Page 17 of Bounty
He worked my nipple to a hard point. I pushed my boob further into his hand, wanting more. Between my legs felt hot and swollen.
“Fuck, but you’re sweet,” he growled, thrusting his erection against me. He licked the shell of my ear. “I can’t wait to get into your pussy.” His breath fanned my skin.
“I can’t wait either,” I said, desperate to feel him inside me. “We don’t have to dance tonight. Tomorrow night, after we’re done at the dinner, we can go somewhere.”
He snickered. “You like dancing, Effie,” he said, brushing his lips along my jawline. “I want to dance with you.”
My heart sang. He was sweet, kind, and honorable.
My body count was low. I didn’t sleep with the boy I liked in middle school. My high school boyfriend was my first, a relationship that fizzled not long after. A frat boy I went on a couple of dates with during my sophomore year of college was the second and last man I’d slept with. I was eager to make Slice the honored third addition.
“Come on, babe, let’s go inside.”
We came together for a last kiss before he took my hand again and led me to the door.
My legs felt like mush and my mouth felt swollen andworshipped. As he opened the door, he tightened his grip onmy hand and guided me in. A Kenny Rogers song blasted from a jukebox. A huge emblem of a skull atop flowers and dice was painted on the wall near the pool table. The place was bigger than it seemed from the outside, but still not as big as I imagined thanks to Mom’s books. About a dozen four-seat round tables were scattered around the room, most taken by men in cuts. Most stools at the bar were occupied. For every three men, there was one woman.
We were definitely outnumbered. The song ended and the sudden silence unnerved me, especially as the men turned our way.
“Pretty Boy,” someone greeted. “What are you and your woman standing in the door for?”
That opened a floodgate of acknowledgments.
“Why does he think I’m your woman?” I wasn’t opposed to the idea, but it was still disarming despite Slice’s warning. I’d never met these people.
“Cameras,” Slice whispered and pulled me forward before I could question him.
We reached a back table tucked away from view, where a bald man just an inch taller than me stood and slapped Slice’s back.
“Striker,” Slice murmured with amusement. “Still haven’t gotten rid of that fucking name.”
“Fuck you, asshole,” Striker said with a laugh. “Riker was given that fucking name at birth. He should take a road name and leave me in peace.”
“He’s your brother, so take it up with him.”
“I took it up with Mother when that motherfucker told me to change my road name. She said it was okay, so fuck him. Even if she’s not a part of the club, she still gets him in line.”
Slice turned to me. “See what I have to put up with, babe? Sheer fucking madness.” He nodded to me. “Striker, this is my ol’ lady. Effie.”
Unsure of the protocol, I held out my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Striker swept his blue gaze over me, then took my hand and kissed the back of it. “Fuck, I wish he hadn’t claimed you. I’d love a turn in your pussy.”
My mouth formed an ‘O’ in surprise. Snickers floated up. Meanwhile, I wasn’t sure how to feel.
“She’s a civilian, asshole,” Slice snapped, placing his hand on the small of my back and guiding me to a seat at Striker’s table.
“Must be the night for them,” another man called. “Prissy’s showing around some author and four of her fans. She took them around the corner to the trailers. That woman thought we lived on the premises. Our chapter’s not big enough for that.”
“Dorie or Darie. Something,” Striker grunted, swigging from his bottle of alcohol. My heart skipped a beat.
My mother had taken her readers to dinner, then came to abiker club? Horror washed through me. I couldn’t imagine the danger she’d placed herself in. Bad enough. However, if she found us here, I was so fucking cooked.
Striker seemed unaware of my panic. “Prissy’s a big fan of hers, especially since you’re on several of her covers, Pretty Boy.”
“That’s right!” someone boomed. “You’re lucky Riker only wanted you to intercept that drug shipment instead of icing a few motherfuckers.”
“Better you than any of us,” Striker said. “I’m just here ‘til Riker disbands this chapter. We never got the foothold he promised.”
