Page 26 of Property of Thrasher
The compound never really slept as a whole—the men seemed to pass out in shifts rather.
That particular morning it felt as if the damn building was still shaking off a hangover. I rolled into my usual spot, the rumble of my bike echoing off the side of the building until I killed the engine. The air was heavy with the lingering smell of burned rubber from last night’s burnouts.
Three and Thrust, another prospect, sat on the far side smoking and pretending like they weren’t on edge waiting for another order. Still, I gave them slow nod, the kind that said, I’ll be sure to find you something to do real soon, fucker.
Entering the space I shook my head. The open space of our clubhouse main room looked like someone hosted a fucking war and forgot to clean up the dead bodies. An open empty pizza box sat open on one of the pool tables, two bunnies were naked wrapped in each other asleep on the floor. Spare laid sprawled out on the couch naked with his hands covering his junk but his boots still on. How the fuck he managed that I didn’t want to know. Another brother, I couldn’t discern who for sure, but I thought it was Widower but with his hair in his face, I wasn’t getting close enough to make sure. He was crooked in a chair with a bottle clutched to his chest like a fucking stuffed animal.
The TV in the back was still on, muted, and the porn still playing. I kept walking not bothering to change it. I was halfway to my room, thinking about the day ahead when I heard it.
A low hum of voices, muffled but close. Then the laugh, feminine and light. Not a laugh I recognized.
We didn’t get new sounds around here often. Most of the brothers if they wanted strange pussy they kept it off the compound. It was easier that way. Our bunnies and old ladies were vetted, random bitches, well, it could get complicated once they had been tempted by a King.
I followed the sound down the hall toward the back rooms which so happened to be on my way to my room anyway. My boots scuffed the floor in a casual rhythm, no rush, no pressure. Tiny’s door was wide open allowing light to spill across the hall. I paused letting my own eyes adjust as I took in what was right in front of me.
Tiny was crouched down with some woman’s legs over his shoulders pressing her back into the side of his bedroom doorframe while he ate. Her skirt was hitched high leaving full view of her bush. Her head was back, eyes closed, and the bitch was in fucking ecstasy while my brother devoured her.
She was new. She was different. Not painted up in the heavy makeup shimmery shit the usual club girls liked. Her makeup was soft, subtle. Even though she clearly was in the heat of passion, her mascara didn’t run. Her hair was mussed up, most likely from Tiny’s hands, but you could tell she started her day put together.
She blinked, her gaze going directly to Tiny. When she looked at him, she was locked in. She wasn’t just hungry, she was memorizing this moment of him for later.
This wasn’t club bunny behavior.
This was a woman building attachments.
And in my world attachments could be dangerous.
She tried to play her part, her hands gripping his head, then her nails dragging over his shoulders. She shifted pressing her hips toward him like she’d either been watching too much porn or talked to a bunny. This wasn’t practiced ease for her. While she was turned on and enjoying herself, it was evident she was holding back trying to give to Tiny as much as he was giving her.
She didn’t have the sharp edges of the others. She was soft. Guarded in a way. It was like she was trying on a role and it didn’t quite fit or she hadn’t figured out the method to it yet.
Now, I was intrigued. What brought her here? What was she before?
Who was she?
I stayed in place, arms crossed, letting this play out. Not because I got anything out of it. In a way, I’d seen enough to be immune to sex. However, I liked knowing everything about the people who surrounded me and my club.
Tiny sensed me first. He moved just enough to turn his head from her heat and face me. He froze for a split second before a spark of irritation lit his face.
“Thrasher,” he muttered removing his head from her pussy and guiding her legs from his shoulders safely to the ground. Using his body to cover hers I watched a man who has literally fucked more than one woman at a time in front of the entire club suddenly become protective.
“Don’t mind me,” I retorted with a smirk.
Tiny growled low, “can I help you with something, brother?”
“Nah, just passing through,” I casually remarked knowing this was pissing him off even more.
The woman, though, she didn’t say a word, just tried tugging her skirt down and covering her tits with her arms. Clearly, she wasn’t used to being caught. She kept her eyes on me though, it was like she couldn’t figure out if they were in trouble or I was simply an asshole.
She would be right about the asshole part.
“Got something goin’ on, Pres?” Tiny asked clearly wanting to be done with me.
“Yeah, got a run. Warehouse ride. You in or you gonna play house today?”
His jaw tightened.
That’s when DK’s voice came from the far end of the hall. “Thrasher?—”
