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She was turning thirty-five next month, not fifteen.
She sighed and opened her eyes. Setting her sore jaw, she strode across the barn and stopped just a couple feet behind Deacon. Close enough to see Brandy press her perky breasts into Deacon’s arm and purr, “Hey, baby, where’ve you been?”
Deacon turned on the stool to face his visitor, breaking the nipple to bicep contact. “Not tonight, Brandy.”
Lithe, young Brandy did a sexy little pout. “You already have plans? I bet mine would be better, handsome.”
She reached up to touch his braid and he jerked his head back. “No plan yet. Just chillin’.”
Reese did not miss the moment Brandy noticed her standing just outside of Deacon’s radar but watching the exchange.
The younger woman’s eyes slid from Reese back to Deacon and her smile got even bigger. “Have a question for you, handsome.”
“What’s that?”
She plucked at both of her perky, tight nipples and said, huskily, “I’m thinking about getting my nipples pierced, too. D’you think that would look good?”
“If that’s what you want, Brandy.”
She reached into Deacon’s open cut and planted her hands on his chest. Right over his nipples. “Does it hurt?”
“What d’you think it feels like when you jab a big needle through a sensitive part of your body?” Deacon asked her.
Brandy cringed and dropped her hands.
“It also hurts when you hit them with a stun gun,” Reese announced as she took the final two steps up to the bar to stand at Deacon’s back.
His head twisted toward her, but his face remained unreadable. “My plan’s arrived.”
Brandy stared at Reese but directed her question at Deacon. “Is that your mom? What happened to her face? Your daddy beat her?”
Deacon’s face was no longer unreadable.
Reese smiled despite the sharp pull of her injured lip. “He does call me Mommy sometimes when I twist those barbells.”
Deacon surged to his booted feet, almost knocking Reese backwards. “Stay here,” he ordered her. He turned back toward Brandy, who looked like she was about to jump Reese with her claws out.
Reese already had a bunch of bruises, what would be a few more?
But Deacon grabbed Brandy’s arm, growled, “You. Come with me,” and dragged her down to the other end of the bar. When they got there, Reese watched Deacon say something to the young woman she did not like because, once again, she pouted and even stomped her foot slightly while she did it.
Deacon said one more thing to her and finally Brandy nodded, glanced around The Barn and zeroed in on her next victim.
Deacon remained where he stood, his beefy arms crossed over his chest as he watched her. After a few seconds, he turned and came back to Reese who had taken his spot on the stool.
When he stopped in front of her, she said, “She’s cute. She has a really perky... personality. Did I screw up your plans?”
“Nope,” he grunted.
“Just curious on how she knows your nipples are pierced.”
Deacon stared at her for a few long seconds, then grinned. “Yeah, she’s cute and perky as fuck and she gives great head. She also loves anal. Not gonna lie. Anything else you wanna know?”
Actually, that had been too much. “Is she legal?”
“Everybody currently standin’ on this property is legal, Reese. Trip don’t tolerate jailbait slippin’ through the cracks. He’s real particular about not lettin’ this club crash and burn a second time. And underaged girls will do that.”
Reese rolled her eyes. “Well, it’s good you guys have some morals, then.”
“Yeah, Mommy, we do got a few.”
The little bit of annoyance about Brandy quickly disappeared. “You like that, do you?”
“Never was my thing, but if it’s yours, might be willin’ to play along.”
“Just so you know, Reilly offered up Ozzy to me, said he was closer to my age.”
“She did what?”
“Yes, apparently, you all are like a biker buffet, and if I get tired of one dish, I can try another.”
Deacon scratched at his eyebrow with the tip of his thumb, then dragged his fingers down his bearded jaw.
“I didn’t think you could be speechless,” she teased him. “Now I know. Also... just so you know, I won’t be thirty-five until next month. I’m not old enough to be your mother.”
“Thank fuck for that. But even if you were, I’d still do ya. You’d be like a sexy MILF.”
“Not if I’m your own mother.”
“Fuck no... Fuck. Never mind.” He shook his head. “Let’s stop talkin’ about mothers, for fuck’s sake.”
“That’s a good idea.” She turned toward the bar which didn’t have anyone standing behind it like at the Mill Creek. “There’s no bartender.”
“Nope. It’s help yourself.”
“Apparently,” she murmured as she watched another woman—this one totally naked with a set of red handprints on her ass—walk behind the bar and get on her very tiptoes to finagle a whiskey bottle off a shelf she could barely reach. When she finally got it without it crashing to the planked floor, she cracked open the full bottle and put it to her lips, taking a long swig like it was water.
