Page 24 of Stone

“Mr. Stone,” she snaps back, uncrossing her legs, stomping her feet to the ground as she goes to stand. “I’m sorry that I interrupted something so important to you as a bunch of overgrown, padded up, assholes standing around, occasionally catching and running with a ball.” She picks up the TV controls from the coffee table and drops them in my lap, smacking me right in the junk before hot tailing around to the back of the couch and out of my reach. I hold in the grunt from the bang on the bollocks, not wanting her to have the gratification of knowing that it fucking hurt. Instead, I grab the controls and start to set up the playback. “You should give British Rugby League a go, now that’s a real man’s sport,” she snipes from behind me.

“Go to bed, Oriana, before I change my mind about looking for an alternative nanny.” I warn with a smirk on my lips. Not that she can see that I’m teasing, which is obvious when she lets out a loud huff, and starts to stomp off towards her room in the same manner I’d expect from Sasha in ten years time. “Oh, just one thing before you go and boo hoo in your room.” I turn my head towards where she’s stopped halfway down the hall. “Stop calling me Mr. Stone in front of Sasha. When she’s around, you call me Gabriel or Gabe.” I hesitate for a moment waiting for her reaction.

A smile plays on her lips, her previously crossed arms drop to her side as she gives me a polite nod. “The rest of the time it’s Mr. Stone.” I hold in another snigger when her mouth drops wide open, and she stops and glares at me before spinning around and speed walks to her room, slamming the door behind her.

I laugh my fucking socks off while giving my poor dick and nut sack a soothing rub to ease the lingering pain from the handset slam.

Oriana sure is pretty, and I won’t deny that there’s something about her that gets my pulse kicking up a notch, but like I said, not going there. Too messy. Besides, she comes across as the type of woman who’d want fucking romance and flowers, which is something that I do not do. I can’t ever envision myself being the monogamous type, not that I condone cheating either, and that’s why I don’t get attached.

I’m a fucker, not a lover.

Zero emotions when it comes down to romance and all that fluffy shit.

Only the club whores and unclaimed sweetbutts get to ride my ass multiple times, and that’s because it’s convenient to me if I need to get my rocks off. On those occasions, I tend to gravitate to Ginger. They all know the deal with the rest of the brothers and me. If one of those fuckers decides to claim them as their own, make them their old lady; good on them.

Me? That’s never going to happen.

When it comes to outsiders of the MC, those women think they have magic pussies that will land them a bad-boy biker. When to us, it’s just another hole to rut into when you fancy a different cunt to fill.

The trouble is those chicks get too clingy, and Oriana doesn’t seem to be any different. Even though you warn them that it’s going nowhere, they’re still harder to shake off than a bad case of crotch crickets. That’s pubic lice if, you were wondering.

She’s a Savannah. I’m not, and I repeat, not a Jacob.

She’s also going to be so important to Sasha. Fucking her, crossing the line between employer and employee would mess up the whole living and working together situation.

So, my dick will just have to be content with the club whores and be done with it.

I focus back on the TV screen. Great timing, as it’s coming up to the part where I got rudely interrupted. Although I have to admit that the talk we’ve had was good, and only confirms that Oriana is all in when it comes to Sasha.

The kick is made, and I feel the excitement build in my gut, knowing that the Longhorns’ first play has them so close to the ten-yard mark.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I shout out to nobody but myself when my phone vibrates in my pocket. I pause the game once again while pulling my phone out to see who I need to bitch slap. Maybe not, it’s Smoke.

“Hey, what’s up?” On the other end of the line, all I hear is Smoke coughing up his guts. I wait until he stops, but I can tell the son of a bitch is taking another deep draw from the tab before he answers me.

“Thank fuck, you’re still up. There’s somewhere we need to be, like now. You good to go?” More coughing.

“You really need to cut back on that shit, you know,” I chastise him.

“I didn’t ring you for a fucking lecture, you cunt,” he growls back in his usual indignant way. I don’t take it personally; Smoke is just Smoke. “I’ll meet you at the front of the clubhouse in five. We’ll be taking the van.” He cuts the call, not waiting for me to respond because he knows I’ll be there.

I switch off the TV and go upstairs to my room. Quickly I change into some black combat pants, long-sleeved T-shirt and pull on a pair of black running shoes. Next stop is the safe that’s in the back of the wardrobe. Once I’ve keyed in the code, I open it up and grab my knife, Glock that’s fully loaded, and the two extra magazines beside it. I drop the cartridges into the leg pocket, tuck the pistol into the back of my pants then make my way back downstairs and towards Oriana’s room.

I rap my knuckles against the door, wondering if she’s asleep. When I don’t get an answer, I go to knock louder, only the door opens before I get the chance.

“What?” she says gruffly. Her arms are wrapped tightly around her body, pushing up her tits, and my eyes are instantly drawn to them. When I do raise my gaze to her face, I can see that her lips are swollen, her eyes red-rimmed and she has a puffiness to her skin. Fuck, has she been crying? Not sure why it makes me feel like a grade-A asshole, but it does. “Well?” she prompts me when I don’t answer straight away. Too busy letting my dick rule my head.

Get a grip, Stone.

“I gotta go out. You need anything before I go?”

“No, I have the baby monitor in here in case Sasha wakes up.”

“Okay, I’m not sure what time I’ll be back so if you could take care of breakfast in the morning if I’m not around, that would be good.”

“No problem,” she nods in agreement.

“Better go, Smokes waiting,” I point in the direction of the front door. I’ve no idea why I’m hovering rather than moving. Maybe it’s because it’s the first time I’ll be leaving them both overnight.

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