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Not surprising, plenty of fruit and vegetables were available to choose from, but when it came to the junk, like snack food and sodas, most of it was slim pickings. She’d have to shake a box or a bag first to see if it was even worth taking. Anything she found completely empty or with just crumbs at the very bottom of the package, she tossed in an already almost full metal trash can.
She probably spent a good ten minutes perusing their supplies and picking out stuff she could use, but making sure she left enough behind for the rest of the guys. Just in case one of them decided to make a fruit tart or a spinach quiche.
She snorted.
In truth, more than enough food was available. And most of it high quality like what Cage had brought back for breakfast two mornings ago.
The deal they had with the Amish more than paid off. It was genius.
And, again, the main reason Trip was so pissed at Cage for getting involved with one of the Amish girls. Women. Hopefully, Dyna’s birth mother had been old enough to be considered a woman and not underage. Jemma never asked.
The whoosh of the swinging door made Jemma jump and almost drop one of the bags of bounty she pilfered.
She turned and froze at who walked in.
Her mouth opened and her breath hissed out as they blinked at each other.
She had long dark hair that looked like she’d freshly rolled out of bed, wide blue eyes with slightly smeared mascara, a little bit of lipstick clung to her upper lip, and pale skin.
The reason Jemma knew she was pale was because the woman—or girl, she didn’t look very old—was completely naked. Oh, wait. That was wrong. She was wearing cute striped socks or stockings—whatever they were—that came up mid-thigh.
Jemma also couldn’t help notice the girl had small perky breasts, a completely shaved pussy, a belly ring and was willowy thin.
“Hi!” Jemma squealed like she was a high school cheerleader, and quickly plastered on a big smile.
Why did she feel guilty about being caught with her fingers in the cookie jar?
She shouldn’t. Both Trip and Judge had told her she had free rein to anything in the kitchen or the bar in The Barn. The club paid or traded for all of the food, drinks, beer and booze. Cage and Dyna were part of the club.
“Hey,” came the answer on a sort-of giggle.
The dark-haired girl inspected Jemma from head to toe. Jemma was dressed way more conservatively, like with actual clothes.
“Are you new here?” the naked woman-child asked.
“Oh, yeah. Just getting the lay of the land,” Jemma answered, trying to keep her eyes above the girl’s shoulders.
“Are you making breakfast for one of the guys?”
She pursed her lips. Was that normal around here? Naked breakfast served in bed? That sounded like a service a five-star hotel might provide. For a big, fat extra fee. “Do you normally make breakfast for them?”
“No... It depends. If they tell me to.”
Jemma hoped to fuck she was at least eighteen. “Do you normally do whatever they tell you to do...?” She let the last hang.
“Angel,” she answered and frowned. “Of course. Didn’t anyone tell you that?”
“Tell me what?”
“You do whatever you’re told,” Angel answered in an exaggerated way that made it seem she thought Jemma was a dimwit.
That slightly amused Jemma, so she decided to play along. “Oh. I... I just thought they meant sexually.”
“Oh no. I sometimes do laundry and dishes. And clean their bathroom. Whatever they need.”
“Do all the... Do all of you do that?”
“Pretty much.”
Jemma was no longer amused and decided she didn’t like this game. “And then if they want to fuck you, they just point at you and crook their finger?”
“Crook their finger?” Angel somehow made a confused expression look cute. Jemma wondered if she practiced it.
“You know. Like this.” Jemma demonstrated by crooking her finger at her.
“Well, yeah. But that’s the whole point of being a club girl. Except for the prospects. They can’t order us around or fuck us.” She plugged a hand on her bare hip, which, unfortunately, drew Jemma’s gaze downward, something she was trying to avoid. “Who brought you in?”
Brought her in? “Cage.”
Angel’s voice had gone from high-pitched to husky when she groaned, “Oh God, yessss. Mmm.” She closed her eyes and bit her bottom lip. She even did a cute little shudder.
Jemma might have imagined it, but did Angel’s perky boobs get even perkier? Maybe she had a mini-orgasm or something.
“That good, huh?”
“Most of them are really good.”
Most. She assumed with Angel’s reaction, Cage was included in that “most.” That meant Cage had crooked his finger at Angel. Presumably more than once.
That shouldn’t annoy her, but, damn it, it did. “That right?”
“You’re definitely new here if you don’t know yet.” Her blue raccoon eyes went wide. “Wait! Are you his new house mouse? I heard he got stuck with that Amish bitch’s brat.”
