Page 96 of Romeo

“Is it because I won’t kowtow to you?”

“Kowtow? That some kinda new sexual fetish I don’t know about? ‘Cause I’m game for new shit.”

Her spoon scraped the bottom of her bowl as she finished the last of her chili. “For most bikers, it’s not a new fetish.”

This was news to him. “It involve bondage or somethin’?”

“Sort of. But not in the way you’re thinking.”

“Fuckin’ explain, then.”

She shrugged and set her spoon in her now empty bowl. “Bikers tend to like their women submissive. They want them to do whatever they say.”

He stared at her. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me? You might not know any of the Knights’ ol’ ladies, but you damn well know the Fury’s and probably most of the Angels’. How many of their ol’ ladies are fuckin’ submissive? How many of them talk back to their ol’ man?”

He was spitting out facts she couldn’t deny. The only ol’ lady he knew was truly submissive to her man was Syn. But that was more of a sexual dynamic between the two. “Even Dodge don’t stop Syn from havin’ an opinion and sharin’ it. So, not sure where you get that submissive bullshit.”

“What about the sweet butts? They have to do what any of you demand.”

“But they ain’t…” It was probably better if they dropped this conversation. He wanted to get laid tonight. If this discussion went sideways, that might not happen.

“Aren’t what?” she prodded. “Women with valid thoughts and feelings?”

“No one’s forcin’ anyone to be a goddamn sweet butt. Their choice. They don’t like it, they can leave.”

The second she tipped her head to the side and raised her eyebrows at him, he realized he fell into her trap.

“Boy, that ultimatum sounds familiar. But they don’t leave, do they? Why?”

“‘Cause they wanna be there. It ain’t a fuckin’ career. If they were abused, they’d?—”

She cut him off with, “Skull fucking them to the point of tears running down their faces, snot coming out of their nose while gagging isn’t abuse?”

“They…”Fuck.He scraped his fingers through his beard and sighed. “Chili’s damn good.”

She slid her chair back and stood. “Nice deflection.”

He focused on the sway of her hips and the luscious curves of her ass as she walked her dirty dishes over to the sink. When she turned, she noticed him eye-fucking her.

Not that he gave a shit.

He came over to her apartment for two reasons. To find out what happened after he left and to plant his beard between her thighs. If she wasn’t aware of the second reason, she would be soon.

Long gone was the polo shirt with the embroidered “Smith’s” logo above her left tit. Or the nerdy tan pants she wore earlier. Or the plain white sneakers. She had changed into plain cotton shorts that showed off her smoothlegs, one of those snug camisoles that framed her tits so perfectly that he wanted to smother himself between them and her pink-tipped toes were bare.

By the time she finished the short walk to his side of the small table, her nipples were poking through the stretchy cotton.

He suddenly lost his taste for the chili and had a hankering for something else.

“Finished?”

The huskiness in her voice made him believe she’d be fully onboard with his after-dinner plans.

When she reached for his partially empty bowl, he scooted back his chair, grabbed her hips, and yanked her into his lap.

Instead of pushing him away, she settled in, hooking an arm over his shoulders and combing her fingers through his thick beard. “I guess you’re finished.”

“Yep. Soon time for dessert.” Especially since his idea of dessert had nothing to do with food.

---