Page 70 of Sully

“You didn’t have to tell me that.”

“It’s not exactly a secret ‘round these parts. That’s how the club makes money. But there are a lot of legitimate businesses going on too. Car businesses, a shooting range, shops the wives have opened with club money. Some of it all circles back in for distribution.”

“Have you ever considered opening a business?”

“No,” I admitted, making her smile. “Still on the newish side around here, all things considered. Just enjoying what this is before I start thinking of anything legitimate. But to answer your question, yeah, we make good money. And it doesn’t hurt that we have no living expenses. We get to pocket just about everything. Most of the guys, when they find their girls, end up just buying the house outright.”

“In this market?” she asked, eyes going round.

“Yep. I mean, they’re not mansions. But, yeah.”

“Who wants a mansion anyway?” she asked, shaking her head. “I just want something with a fenced backyard. And maybe a dedicated craft room. Even if it’s in the basement.”

Suddenly, I was picturing houses, fences, and a craft room of anyone’s dreams, with a ton of built-ins and organization, work surfaces of equipment, and other ones left empty for working on projects.

I had that shit all mapped out in minutes.

That was… some wild shit.

“When do you think we will be able to take her for a walk? Like… outside of the grounds here?” she clarified.

I was a little too busy enjoying the way my stomach flipped with how casually she used the ‘we’ word right there to come up with a possible date.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “I know it sucks being stuck here…”

“What? No. No, I didn’t mean that at all,” she said, looking horrified that I thought she was unhappy here. “I was just kind of worried about her socialization. I mean, if she was on the street, I’m assuming she’s used to cars and bikes and stuff. I like it here. Really.”

“Like it here too,” I said, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “But I’m still looking forward to taking you out somewhere nice. And getting you just drunk enough to sing karaoke with me and the girls.”

“I don’t think there’s enough tequila in the state for that,” she said, eyes warm.

“I can be… very persuasive,” I told her, leaning down to press my lips to her neck.

A vibrating sound moved through her.

“I believe that,” she agreed, angling her head over, a silent invitation to explore her neck a little more.

“Oh, we are gonna take a little outing sometime this week,” I said, pulling away when my cock started to get all sorts of ideas for shit I couldn’t be doing with Bonnie in the common area.

“Really? Where?”

“Hailstorm,” I told her. “Fallon told me I have to go. I figured you’d want to come and play with all the dogs.” And if we found a quiet corner in the labyrinthine interior of the shipping container compound for me to pull down her pants and fuck her hard and fast… then so be it.

“It’s safe?”

“Safest place in Navesink Bank,” I assured her. “It’s an interesting place. Lots of shit to check out, if you’re interested.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

“You could stay here if you don’t wanna go. Read something smutty. Think of me.”

“No, no. I want to go. I’m sorry I’m gonna come home smelling like other dogs,” she told Zima, who was busy turning in circles on the couch, trying to find the best position.

“Seems real broken up about it,” I said, smiling at her as she let out a deep, long-suffering sigh when she finally got into her spot. “Oh, she doesn’t like birds, by the way.”

“Birds?”

“I mean, I don’t know her feelings on doves and chickadees or shit like that. But Niro said she doesn’t like the macaws at her foster home.”

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