Page 34 of Devil to Pay: Cutter

“Hey, beautiful,” Rough calls over.

I laugh, answering, “Hey, Rough.”

“Oh—no,”he says completely straight-faced. “I was talking to the bags in your hand.”

His stupid reaction causes an even stupider smile to break out across my face as I reach into one of the bags, pulling out a cardboard box. “And I was answering for the food.” I wave the box around. “It’s a good thing I like you.” Then, walking over to the men, I hand it off to him.

“Are there any knots?”

“I don’t like youthatmuch.”

Cutter stands from the stool, bending down to kiss my cheek. “How about me? You like me that much?”

Handing him off one of the bags, I answer, “I definitely likeyouthat much.”

“Sorry, Rough, want knots, you need to find a woman of your own.” Cutter’s unoccupied arm snags around my waist.

Rough eyes us. “Maybe I will. You got a sister, Aj?”

“Not that I know of. I can tell you where my mother lives, but she won’t buy you food. At the very least, you’ll have to provide it for her, but she’ll still spread her legs. My guess, twenty bucks, she’ll take it up the ass.”

“Thanks, but I’m not in the practice of paying for sex,” he says at the same time Cutter says, “Twenty bucks? Hmm…” He nods his head several times as if considering it.

“Idiot,” I say, laughing and elbow him in the gut.

He grunts, which only makes me laugh harder. With a smile on my face I turn to Rough. “No skin off my nose. Enjoy the calzone.” Then I look at Cutter. “I’m taking my food to the room so I can change and decompress.”

“You decompressing without your panties?”

Given that I really want to go to that festival with Dusty, I over-dramatically flutter my eyelashes, tilt my head and sickly sweetly answer, “I definitely can do that.”

“Then I’m having dinner with you. Sorry, Rough.”

Roughneck swats his hand. “You got good pussy, you wanna keep good pussy, you pay attention to the pussy.”

“Or, you know, the woman attached to that pussy who has more to offer you than a rush of endorphins,” I say. “You know, a brain for conversation, a personality. Sass.”

He chuckles, shrugging. “Semantics.”

“Come on, baby.” Cutter links his fingers through mine. “I like to pay attention to both.”

It’s crazy but he does. He’s proven that time and again. As we move down the hallway, he asks me about my day. I tell him about his competition the eighty-eight year old Mr. Burdock.

“He’ll have to fight me for you,” Cutter says.

Once we get comfortable in the room, I ask about what he’d gotten up to today. He had a shift at the garage but Vlad pulled him for some club business. I’ve learned not to ask about “club business.” He’ll tell me if he wants to. I mean, it’s not like I don’t know about the gun shipments. Cut turns on the TV to some documentary on the origins of the Hell’s Angels. It’s actually interesting and quite informative. Cutter’s a man of limited interests.

Then, when we’re finished eating, he pays spectacular attention to my pussy. Spectacular attention. Hisotherinterest. Thank you for that!

He traces a pattern on my belly while wearing a very contented smile. This mellow mood seems the perfect time to bring up this weekend. If there’s ever going to be a perfect time, contented afterglow, even if I didn’t give up the ass, has to be it.

“So guess what?”

“What?” he asks.

“Dusty invited me to a concert this weekend. She already has the tickets.”

“A concert?” He turns his still bedroom eyes, or bedroom eyes again? Anyway, he turns them on me. “Who’s playing?” he asks.

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