Page 45 of Red's Peril: Part 1

Wraith stretches, arms held high over his head, and yawns widely. He seems in no hurry to get himself dressed.

Pussy, though, she’s already pulling on her shorts, followed quickly by her top. “Hmm, thanks, boys. Now, I wonder what Beef and Rock are doing?”

With a kiss blown our way, she’s out of the door before I can say anything.

Wraith snorts when he sees my expression.

“That was a joke, right? She’s not going straight to them from us?”

“Haven’t you learned those girls are insatiable?” Wraith reaches for his jeans and chucks me my shirt. As I pull it over my head, he continues, “They want dick. They don’t much care who it belongs to.”

In my experience, women want to be held in these circumstances, not jump into another man, or men’s, bed.

I sit up, grasp my pants from the side of the bed, and slip into them, feeling better now my cock’s not swinging in the wind. “Just sex, huh?”

Pulling on his boots, Wraith shares some of his wisdom. “Make sure it is, Red. Some whores or hangarounds take anything more, kissing or cuddling, as a sign you’re going to weaken. If you give in, you’ll have a woman wearing your property patch before you know it. Pussy knows the score and won’t try anything. But you get a girl who wants romance or intimacy, take it from me, run a mile.”

It’s like going with a prostitute. I frown, then reconsider. What happened just now was nothing like that. It wasn’t a man paying to get off. There was definite mutual benefit, or more geared toward Pussy, she was the one to have two orgasms.

“Oh, and while I’m sharing shit. Those condoms, Brother. Always wear them. Even if a girl says she’s on the pill, never trust her. Last thing you want is a paternity suit. Don’t think there wouldn’t be a girl out to trick you. Now you’re wearing that patch, they’ll be running after you.”

“Of fuckin’ course, Brother.”

Though as I assure him in a tone that suggests I don’t need advice, my mind goes back nine months.I hadn’t worn a condom with Cheryl.I hadn’t broached the subject and she hadn’t asked me to. I assumed she was protected.

But what if she wasn’t?

My brows knit together. Not much I can do now. But from hereon in, I’ll take Wraith’s words to heart.

“Don’t know about you, Brother, but I need a fuckin’ drink.” Wraith slides his cut on and passes me mine.

I give him no argument. A drink sounds fucking good right now.

Another few shots of Jack later, and my fears the relationship with Wraith would now be different are long behind me as it’s immediately back to where it was all along.

As it turned out, it certainly wasn’t the last time we shared a girl, or girls, together. Wraith, while younger, hadn’t spent seven years celibate, looking after a disabled parent. No, he was out getting an education I’d clearly missed out on.

It becomes my life’s mission to take advantage of all that he’d learned.

Chapter Seventeen

Being a full member was everything and more than I’d expected. I’d seen the camaraderie and brotherhood from the outside looking in, but it was so much more from the inside. The patch on my back makes me more than just a member of this club, it makes me family, and that includes with brothers from all the other chapters.

I work, play, drink and fuck beside these brothers. Sometimes I think on what led me to here, my journey to leave my past and make a fresh start. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined I’d end up in Tucson and a patched member of an outlaw MC.

A year has passed since Wraith and I were patched in, and we’re still firm friends. We still share a club girl or one of the hangarounds who come to the club from time to time, but nowadays, I certainly don’t need any pointers. I could fill my bed most nights of the week with a girl who’s heard of my reputation. You could say I’ve been making up for lost time.

Yet however many women I have in my bed, only one remains memorable.

Sometimes I look back at my short time with Cheryl, realising how naïve I’d been then.Would she have stayed if I’d delivered more than bland vanilla sex?It might not have changed the outcome, but it might have made her want to stay with me longer.

When she invades my head, I tell myself it was all for the best. Whether Cheryl would have fitted into this life, there’s no way of knowing. But if she’d come with me, prospecting would have been ten times harder, and I might have failed. I may not have seen it that way at the time, but her going home had done me a favour. I certainly wouldn’t have gained my sexual prowess, and in time, either for her or for me, our sex life would have become dull.

So what if I still dream of her some nights? Dream of doing to that perfect body the things I’ve learned since we’ve parted. I might have been twenty-five at the time, but in sexual experience, I’d been little more than an awkward teenager. Now I’m all man. If I knew then what I know now, I could have had her screaming instead of softly crying out my name.

I haven’t forgotten her. She’s a memory I take out and dust off from time to time. The problem is, I’ve met no one like her. There’s often a niggle at the back of my mind which says I’d made a huge mistake in not making her mine, of not taking her home and not giving her more time.

My introspection comes to an end when the seat next to me bounces as Wraith flops down and wipes a hand over his sweaty brow.

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