Page 72 of The Good Girl

“I really hate that word,” she growls, but the flush of her skin and the speed of her pulse makes a liar out of her.

I lick her hand, making her pull it away. Using her distraction, I slide my fingers through her pussy.

“Well, look at that,” I say, lifting my wet fingers. “My good girl’s a dirty liar.”

She starts to protest, but I cover her mouth with mine, lifting her off the counter and carrying her into the shower, where I fuck her again just to remind her who she belongs to.

She dips her head, ignoring my brothers’ grins as she sits curled up in the corner of the couch, eating her reheated Chinese food. When I finally finished fucking her, I let her shower and brought up our bags so she could put on clean clothes. I take in the short, pleated skirt in dark purple and her Rainbow Brite T-shirt and grin. The only thing biker about my woman is the dick she rides.

I focus back on Toot and Mac, who look tense.

“Alright, spill it. I know you wanted us to eat first, but we can all tell how pissed you both are.”

Mac sighs. “People are scared. And I’m not talkin’ about the kinda scared you’d expect when you have an MC in the area. We”—he nods to Toot—“grew up in a town where a one percent club ran things, and everyone lived in fear of them. That’s what this feels like.

“I bumped into a woman when I was coming out of the restroom, and she started bawlin’ her fucking eyes out. She was shaking so bad, I thought she was gonna pass out.”

“What the fuck? The locals were wary of us, sure, but that makes sense. But fear? That’s fucking new. You get anything out of anyone?”

“Talked to the fry cook from the diner on his smoke break. The guy was built like a brick shithouse and looked ready for a fight until he realized we weren’t from this chapter and had no clue what was going on. He was happy to spill his guts then. He said the restaurant’s a family business that’s been here for over fifty years. He started working there ten years ago, back in high school. His uncle runs the place now, but they’re thinking of selling and moving, even though they’re making a killing.”

“Why do I feel like I’m not gonna like this?”

“’Cause you’re not. I mentioned your name. Dude remembered you. The whole town was pissed with how things went down—seems they knew the truth.”

“I’m not surprised. What happened wasn’t my style. Easy to guess something else went down.”

“Maybe, but I got the feeling they were getting solid intel from somewhere,” Mac adds.

“You mean from the club? But why?”

“Maybe the club wasn’t as onboard with things as Khan made it seem. Either way, someone didn’t want the town turning on you. Whoever the source was, they’re well protected. I couldn’t get the name out of him. All he said was you weren’t the only one, then he clammed up tighter than a nun’s cunt.”

“Oh for the love of God, can you all please stop using that word?” Nevaeh complains, lightening the mood as she makes us all laugh.

“I’m sorry, Tinkerbell. Perhaps you’d preferlady garden?Orpetting pearl,” Toot teases her.

She stands up and walks over to where we’re sitting at the table. “Don’t be mean, or I’ll tell Havoc I caught you sniffing my underwear earlier.”

It takes a second for my brain to process her words. When it does, all I see is red and all rational thought goes out the window. It isn’t until I feel Nevaeh’s hands on my face that I snap out of it and realize I have Toot pinned to the floor with my knee pressing against his chest and my hands wrapped around his throat.

“It’s okay, Havoc. You can let the mean boy go now.”

“Man, she got you good,” Crane laughs, clearly enjoying the show.

I release Toot before turning to Nevaeh and burying my face in her hair. “Nobody sniffs your panties but me,” I growl.

“Wait, what?” She pushes me away. “Ew, Havoc. Just when I think I’ve got you housebroken, you go and act like an animal again.” she huffs, placing her hands on her hips.

I grin because her attitude is taller than she is. Still on my knees, I grab Nevaeh and pull her closer, her hands flying to my shoulders to stop herself from falling. Once I have her where I want her, I reach under her skirt, ignoring her protests as I grab the lace of her panties and rip them from her body. She stares down at me in shock as I pull my hand free from her skirt, holding my prize. I bring the scrap of fabric to my nose and inhale deeply.

“You’re crazy,” she hisses quietly.

“There isn’t a guy in this room who doesn’t wish he were me right now.”

She whips her head around, taking in the hungry looks of the others before she flees back to her spot on the sofa.

“You’re a lucky bastard.” Kruger says with an envious sigh.

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