“Not yet.” I stood from the couch and checked the mirror behind the desk and smiled. She fucking marked me. The bruise was light and blended with the edges of my tatt. Leave it to Clover to notice.
Lacey glanced up at me. “Who is this girl? And what has she done to you?”
I grumbled and returned to the couch.
“Oh, I think I’m going to like her.” Lacey smirked. “Another kitten but this one has claws.”
“You can like her later. What’s up?” I asked Clover.
“The last couple of days have given us time to go over our accounts, contact our clients, and try to come up with ideas on how we can move forward. Bullet, shit’s been bad for months. I’m fucking exhausted, and so is Lacey. We’ve been thinking. Bristol and Jinx can’t go back to the Landing Strip. Bristol is scared. We’re all scared. There’s been too much heat on the MC, and that puts all of us at risk. We got to thinking maybe it’s time we did something different.”
I sat up straighter and braced my forearms on my knees. “You want out?”
“Yes, and no,” Clover said. “We have an idea where we can make some money. We know initially Bristol and Jinx won’t make as much as they do dancing. We’ll need an investment, and we’ll need your participation. We’ll share equally in the profits.”
Lacey came around the desk, holding a notebook, and plopped onto the couch on the other side of me. “We’ve talked to Bristol and Jinx, and they’re on board. Scarlett and Skye aren’t sure, but I think once you tell them you’re in, they’ll be convinced.”
Clover rolled her eyes. “Scarlett will do whatever you tell her, and Skye will listen to Scarlett.”
Lacey spun and sat with her legs crossed. “We want to be on camera.”
My brows furrowed. There was money in porn and a whole lot of bureaucratic red tape. Licensing, production, distribution. “Lacey, it’s always been about you girls. There’s more to porn than setting up a tripod and fucking on camera.”
Clover smiled and nodded. “That’s what we want to do, but not porn, well, it is, but we won’t have to take clients anymore.”
Lacey flipped open the notebook. “But we won’t be doing pornographic movies. We want to be cam girls. Masturbation, showers, girl on girl, and you’d fuck us live on camera.”
Jesus. Fucking. Christ.
Stormy
Bristol flipped through hangers in Lacey’s closet. “Girl, what was that about?”
I sat on the end of Lacey’s bed, a bed Bullet had probably fucked her in, and tried to tamp down the noxious jealousy polluting my mind. Every woman in this house had slept with Bullet.
He was downstairs now. Alone with both of them. Because I obviously enjoyed tormenting myself with mental abuse, I wondered if he ever fucked them at the same time. Of course he did. Maybe he’d had all his kittens at the same time.
Bristol paused at the threshold of the closet with hangers in each hand. “Are you listening to me?”
I pressed two fingers against my temple. “Sorry.”
“Do you like either of these?” Short skirts, leather tank tops, and spandex spread out on the bed. In the mix was a dress with a lace and leather corset connected to panels of leather, creating a long skirt. One, I couldn’t fill the D-cups, and two, I’d drag the panels of the skirt like a gothic wedding dress train. I set it aside, but underneath it there was a black bondage dress that might work.
“We can try this one,” I said.
“She has more like it.” Bristol went back into the closet, and I stripped out of my jeans and T-shirt.
The dress was a two-panel dress, a front and a back connected by buckles at the bra line and two more at the hip and two at the thigh. Straps made from chains connected to the front and crisscrossed in the back. I wouldn’t be able to wear a bra or panties.
“What the fuck?”
Bristol came into the room with her arms filled with a few more outfits for me to try. I turned to her, and her eyes tracked over my body. Not that I should care. She’d seen every part of me at the Landing Strip.
“Bitch, you are so full of shit.” She tossed the clothes on the bed and crossed her arms over her chest. “I knew something was off. You’re too quiet, and I don’t know who that is downstairs. The BulletI knowis not touchy-feely, but he couldn’t keep his hands off you.” She tilted her head and cocked a brow. “But it looks like a lot more than his hands have been on you. Those are hickeys.”
“I wanted to talk to you,” I said. “But not in front of Lacey and Clover.”
“I’ve known that man for five fucking years, and you know how many times he’s made me coffee? Never. Do you know how often he hovers? Right. Never.” She drew out the ver in never.