Page 3 of Devil to Pay: Cutter

“Fuck me or fuck me over?” she asks then takes a sip of her coffee as if to feign a nonchalant attitude to the entire conversation.

“Not in the habit of fucking women over, darlin’. But I sure as shit can make you feel good tonight. Get you off by making you come hard. Truthfully, you look like you could use it.”

She licks her lips. “That sure of your skills, are you?”

“I might not have the legendary dick of Vlad, my president, but the women always want more when we’re done.”

“Do I get to know your name before you fuck me?”

“Cutter,” I say, pointing out the patch on my cut.

She arches an eyebrow. “Cutter? That’s a rather violent name.”

“Never with a woman. I can promise you that.”

It takes her a beat to answer, almost like she’s deciding on whether or not I’m being truthful. “I believe you,” she says, and thank fuck for that. I’m not a man to beg so if she’d said she didn’t, I’d bounce. Plenty of pussy in the world, though admittedly, not many as hot as this chick. “though I’m not sure why,” she continues. “You just don’t give off that vibe. But you’re part of the Bedlam Horde? That’s interesting. I’ve heard of you guys.”

I’m not surprised. For years, our club went down a dark path. Guns. Drugs. Wars with rival clubs. I’ll admit, I got off on that shit in the early days. But as our path continued to darken, our old president had us hurting innocent people—women and children. Fuck. No. That’s a line I don’t cross.

We staged a coup, a violent and bloody coup, ousting the brothers who followed our old president. As for him, let’s just say, his antics got him dead. We’ve been on a mission to clean up our image since then. And then we got involved with the FBI trying to capture the Bible Belt Killer when he went after our own. Shit got real crazy for a while. That story’s not completely over, but it’s out of our hands for now.

“I’m Aja,” she says.

“Good to meet you, Aja. You giving me your name mean you’re down to eat, then fuck?”

She looks over to the table with my brothers. “This is a solo fuck, right?” She has a vulnerability to her voice before she clears her throat. “Because I’m not down with gang bangs.”

“Yeah, darlin’. Just you, me, a bed, and a box of condoms.”

Aja smiles, snickering through her nose as she scoots out of the booth, picking up her cup of coffee. “Then you should feed me.”

I’m not about to lie. The way her sumptuous ass sways the whole way over to our table has me aching to be in there. Then to hear that soft, husky hitch to her voice when she stops to greet my brothers—I don’t even know what that feeling is that it brings out, but I know that I like it.

“Hey, gents. I was invited to enjoy your company while we dine.”

She’s met withhellos and a couple of low whistles.

“I’m Roughneck,” Rough introduces himself. “You don’t need the rest of their names. I’m the only important one here.”

“Really?” she asks, laughing. “I thought that was Cutter here.” She pats my stomach.

“Ooo—”

“Ouch.” The other brothers got their laughs in while grimacing.

“This is Aja,” I introduce her. “Don’t be jackasses while she’s with us.”

That’s when the server approaches our table dropping off drinks, including a coffee for me that I didn’t order but Rough knew I’ve been jonesing for.

“Do you know what you want to eat?” the server asks. She’s pretty. Dark blonde. Blue eyes. Average tits. Total antithesis of Aja. My cock squirms looking at—I read her name tag, which says ‘Nancy.’ That’s odd. She seems young to have a name like Nancy. But my dick twitches because of her. It outright jumps in my pants, aching to tear free and hunt down her pussy when I look at Aja. I haven’t been this turned on by a woman in years.

“Steak and eggs,” I order.

The other brothers give their orders and when Nancy’s eyes land on Aja, Aja slowly smiles. “Steak and eggs. Steak, medium. Eggs, easy. Sourdough toast, extra butter. The real butter, not margarine.”

Fuck, that’s sexy. A woman ordering real food instead of granola and a fruit cup.

“Mine exactly like hers,” I finish, dropping my arm around Aja’s chair. Then, turning to the woman sitting next to me, I ask, “So what’s your story?” She agreed to fuck, so I figure she might be comfortable enough to spill.

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