Page 16 of Dirty Padraig: Dirty Dusters

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a bit of heavy petting and dry humping as an appetizer as much as the next person, but it’s been that and only that for the past two months.

I’m a hormonal teenager. I need more. But I don’t want to push her. I don’t want her to have any regrets when it comes to me. Not when I’m in this for the long haul.

Not when I’m so totally fucking besotted with her.

I roll onto my back, exhaling in frustration, but I don’t make a big deal out of it. If she needs me to keep on waiting until she’s ready, then that’s exactly what I’ll do.

We lie side by side, both of us staring at the stark white ceiling, lost in our own thoughts. Resting on her elbow, she looks down at me. I take in her now swollen, pouty lips. I don’t want anyone else ever kissing them.

Her hand reaches out to trace the birthmark on my inner wrist. “It’s shaped like a horseshoe.”

She’s trying to distract us from what just happened.

I run my other hand through my hair and force a smile. “All of the males in my family are born with it, darlin’.”

“Does it ever bring you luck?”

I don’t answer that question, and she knows the reason why. Because, right now, I don’t feel very lucky. Rejection is an alien experience for me and one I can’t say I enjoy all that much.

There’s a silence. I know I’ll need to fill it before it becomes an awkward one.

I look up at her as I tuck her hair behind her ear. “Tell me about the logo on your leather jacket.”

There’s a brief pause. I already know what it is, but I’m curious to see if she’ll admit it.

“It’s the club patch for the Angels of Hellfire MC in Rising, California. I grew up around their compound. My pop is best friends with their prez, Duke, and he also represents the club legally. I spent most of my time there. Well, at least I did before I left.”

I frown. “Surely, that wasn’t an ideal place for a young girl to grow up. I mean, you must have witnessed some right horror stories.”

She shrugs. “If you’re asking if I’ve ever seen a person killed, then the answer is yes, I have. They’re bikers. Everything they do is illegal, and when they’re not doing that, they’re riding hogs, drinking tequila, and fucking cum sluts.”

“Cum sluts?” I raise an eyebrow.

“You know. The women who willingly sign up to be fucked by multiple bikers at any one time.”

I snort as I laugh, and she chuckles.

“Girls are typically queueing out the door as soon as there’s a vacancy. Most will have just reached the age of consent. They sign up, hoping one of the bikers will fall in love with them and make them their old lady. It’s the equivalent of being a wife but without the marriage license.

I guess for the brothers cum sluts are seen as being part of their reward system. Free pussy from the club as a thank you for all the illegal wrongdoings they’re expected to commit on behalf of their patch.”

“And your da is their lawyer, you say?”

She nods.

“Do you know anything about my family, Jaine?”

She nods again, this time slowly, her cheeks turning red as she admits to having been curious about me beyond our student life here.

“The Hudson Dusters. Your family is the Irish Mob.”

I smirk as I gaze once more at the ceiling. “We do most things legally.”

“Most.” She snorts.

It’s my turn to shrug with a smile. “For the stuff we don’t, well, I guess that’s why my family needs me here, studying the law.”

She’s silent for a moment. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

---