Page 52 of Riding Bare

Only one woman I want hanging on me, and that’s my woman.

Following Hippie, I sway with each step I take, and it feels like I’m walking through goddamn chocolate pudding. The air is so thick, or rather, I’m just that goddamn drunk. I stop when I see him standing with his back against the wall.

Leaning against the wall opposite him, I plant my feet wide in an effort to stabilize myself as I cross my arms over my chest, because I’m ready to fall the fuck over at any given moment. I hope that whatever this conversation is, I remember it in the morning.

“Everything good?” I ask Hippie.

“Aside from that girl being plain fucking trouble?” he asks.

“Yeah, aside from that. Minty wants to be the big bitch in charge. She thinks if I keep her as my personal whore, it’ll happen. Rocky thought the same shit, and see how well that worked out for her.”

Hippie shrugs a shoulder, then clears his throat. “I just got a feeling. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve got one, and I want to go through our weapons stockpile, do an inventory.”

“This is a serious conversation for me right now,” I slur.

He chuckles, then lifts his hand and wraps his fingers around my shoulder before he jerks me slightly. My attention snaps up to meet his again. My gaze focuses on his as much as I can. Granted, I do see three of him right now, so I try to pick the one in the middle.

“It’s not that serious. I just wanted to let you know what would be going on tomorrow. Is there something happening with the club I need to worry about?”

“Yeah,” I hiss. “I’m afraid I’m going to start a war.”

CHAPTER

FORTY-ONE

CHASSIS

The clubhouse is in the throes of a party. It doesn’t surprise me. I’m pretty sure it’s always in the throes of a party of some kind. I know my dad’s is, at least. But tonight feels different. I survey the room, my gaze scanning the people who are around: men, women, nakedness everywhere, but that’s not what catches my eye.

I watch as that woman, Minty, walks out of the hallway, completely naked… my husband right behind her. My heart doesn’t slam against my chest the way I think it probably should, because it stops beating.

I’m not sure how in the hell I’m still standing. I can’t breathe, I can’t think, my feet are frozen to the floor below me. I don’t know what to do, but what I want is to vanish right here and now. I pinch my eyes closed, wondering if it could be possible to just disappear.

But when I open my eyes, I glance around and realize I can’t disappear. I’m here, in the middle of a room full of people. I remind myself to breathe, forcing my eyes to open and fight back the tears that threaten to fall.

With every ounce of courage in my body, I find Amos again. He’s standing, only his profile in view. He’s turned slightly, and that naked bitch is standing in front of him. She’s completely naked except for a pair of too-high high heels.

I watch as she reaches out, her fingers curling around his bicep. She leans in close, her gaze searching Amos’s. I can’t move. I don’t want to. I stare at them, waiting to see what’s going to happen.

Nothing does, at least not immediately. It’s as if everything is happening in slow motion. She lifts to her toes, he bends his head, and then their mouths touch. I suck in a breath, lifting my hand to my lips and taking a step backward before I spin around and begin to walk out of the clubhouse.

I don’t know if anyone can see me, and I don’t care. I need to get out of here. I need to drive home, lock myself inside, and pretend that this never happened, that I never witnessed this. I knew something was going on. I just knew it. And now I’m sorry I came down here at all.

Hurrying toward the door, I hear my name being called. I recognize the voice, and since I’m in his space, I should stop and listen to him. But I’m not thinking straight. Hell, I’m not thinking at all. Not a single rational thought actually floats around in my brain.

I don’t turn around. I don’t stop. Instead, I wrap my fingers around the door handle and wrench it open. The warm air slams into me, the darkness consumes me, but I step outside anyway. I hear my name again, but I ignore that, too.

I start to walk faster toward my car. I don’t want to run. I’m afraid I might trip, especially considering the tears that have started to flow down my cheeks are blurring my vision. Unfortunately, when I don’t run, it gives Amos enough time to catch me.

I feel his fingers curl around my bicep just as I reach for the handle of my car. He wrenches my body around, moving forward, and I’m forced to step backward until my back and ass slam against the side of my car.

Amos leans close to me, his arms outstretched on either side of me, pressing against the car, effectively caging me in. Then he shifts forward, his lips grazing mine before they slide across my jaw to my ear.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

Tears continue to stream down my cheeks, and I wrinkle my nose at the scent of beer and whiskey that consumes me. I’m disgusted. He’s disgusting. I hate myself for believing there could be more. That he could be different from the men I’ve known my entire life. He’s just like them, and I let myself believe he wasn’t.

I’m the problem here, not them. I expected more than he could possibly give me. I’ve opened the door on something that I’m regretting. I’m not sure I can forget the way he touches me, the way he feels inside me, and I also don’t think I could accept him with another woman.