Page 9 of Clear Your Mind

I am definitely going to test those waters deeper after the blow job she all but promised. The thought of my cock deep in her throat has me harder than before.

She turns to leave with a harrumph. I expect she’ll be waiting eagerly on my bed, so I take my time. Lazily, I dry and swig mouthwash before returning to my bedroom.

“Time for my blow job, love,” I announce with humor as I enter, only to realize she isn’t there.

I notice the door is ajar. “Fuck.” Ripping a pair of sweats out of the dresser, I hop and stumble into them as I make my way out of my room. The last thing I need is my brothers getting the wrong idea about her.

They know why Dude and I headed out earlier. A woman wrapped in a towel wandering around in the morning sends the wrong message to anyone around. Especially since both Kilt and Cowboy were downstairs when we came in last night.

The wrong fucking message for sure.

Once my ass is covered, I check down the hall first. No sign of her.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” I mumble as I approach Dude’s room. Not one to cockblock, I listen for a second at the door. My girl’s definitely not in there, those two are fucking loud or loud fucking.

Whatever.

I’m halfway down the stairs when I realize I thought of her as my girl.

Mine.

A long-dead part of me wonders if it would be so bad. For a second, I think it would, but then right on the heels of that thought, comes another…maybe it wouldn’t be.

Maybe.

And just like that, Bella and Jeff enter my brain. Not that they’re ever very far from my thoughts, but contemplating letting someone else in brings them to the fore.

As I’m rooting around my brain with an imaginary rusty paring knife in an effort to dislodge the old images, I hear voices, one being a familiar husky feminine voice. One that sounds both scared and pissed.

The words spoken in Cowboy’s voice have me sprinting forward.

“Come on, babe. You’re going to have to eventually to get the thumbs-up from me too, so why not right now?”

Fucking Cowboy.

“I have no idea what fucking crack-meth-hybrid drug you’re on, but if you touch me again, I’ll knee you so hard, you’ll be giving yourself that blow job.”

That’s my girl.

Pride and anger are warring within me. My woman’s a firecracker.

Again, with the possessiveness.

“You’ve clearly already taken care of Buddy, maybe Dude too, so one more is all you need to claim your place here.”

Fuck. I curse as I’m forced to play furniture frogger to get to my destination. “We’re an MC, not a fucking construction crew.” I curse at the pile of wood by the bar I have to hurdle to get to the kitchen. First thing in the morning, I’m going to hire a professional.

The sound of skin against skin reverberates through my brain. I see the tail end of the slap. Not able to glean anything but Cowboy’s profile through the tiny porthole in the kitchen door, I still know shit is about to go downhill fast.

“Club girls have a place here, but only if they fucking know what that is.” Cowboy’s voice rises a bit as I push through the swinging door. I’m one-hundred-percent positive he won’t hurt her, not outside of any agreed-upon methods. But she hasn’t agreed to any of it. Hell, she isn’t a club girl and never will be.

I freeze as I take in the sight before me. Her towel is puddled on the floor and Cowboy has her pressed against the counter.

“STOP.”

My voice draws both of their attention, but Cowboy doesn’t budge other than to look at me.

“Hey, veep, just introducing myself to the new girl.”

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