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Scar glanced over Rook’s shoulder toward the door, then back over his own shoulder toward the woman he just laid pipe with. When he turned back to Rook, he nodded.
“Good choice,” Rook answered and offered Scar his hand. The prospect clasped it and they bumped shoulders.
Crisis averted. The club needed prospects, but only ones who wanted to be there. The second they didn’t want to be there they needed to be cut out like cancer. Because cancer had the ability to spread, so that shit had to be dealt with a quickness.
Disease had spread through the Originals, causing their demise.
Trip wasn’t the only one who wanted to avoid that mistake being repeated. All of them had been working hard to keep that from happening, to build a strong brotherhood. What started on shaky ground had settled and only became stronger each day.
No one wanted to see that get fucked up. So, the prospects needed to keep their asses in line or they were out. It wouldn’t be a debate but a reckoning.
“You can fuck her anywhere but up there or in my bed.”
“Got you,” Scar grunted before turning on his boot heel, grabbing the woman by the arm and hauling her into the bunkhouse. As they were going out, the next possible problem walked in.
Billie.
He could do a round with the crazy-assed woman to try to purge Jet from his thoughts, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. He’d just end up on his knees, hurting and crying for nothing.
He wondered who she just got done working over because she appeared pleased with herself. He recognized that look. It meant she got off the way she liked getting off. The only two brothers unaccounted for right now were Easy and Dodge. Maybe he needed to start a rescue mission. Or a search party.
“Who’s havin’ second thoughts right now?” he asked her when the sadomasochist went behind the bar and poured herself a beer.
Billie looked up from filling the red plastic cup from the keg tucked under the bar and gave him a smile that made Rook’s balls contract in fear. “Who do you think?”
“Please don’t fuckin’ tell me Dutch moved on from that sweet young pussy to your abusive ass. Though, I might pay well if you force him to wear a red rubber ball gag while he’s tied up and let me take pictures. Could use some blackmail material against my old man.”
“Nope,” answered the woman with the dark short hair, her signature leather collar and heavy goth makeup. “But I doubt Dutch would care if such proof was out there. He’d probably want a copy for his wallet so he could show it to everyone. Just like he shows Dyna’s picture.” She lowered her voice and made it gruff. “‘Here’s a photo of my Duchess and here’s one of me naked, gagged and bound. Har har har.’”
Rook snorted. No truer words had ever been spoken. But it also made him stare at Billie wondering if she actually had worked his father over at one time or another.
He shuddered at that image now embedded in his head. Well, that was a good fucking way to evict Jet from his fucked-up brain.
Even so, no one understood what Whip had seen in the woman, now leaning on the other side of the bar, to make her his girlfriend, even for the hot minute it lasted. The woman didn’t hide the fact she liked dick too much—and also took joy in making whoever was attached to it hurt—to stick with one man. Especially a quiet one like Whip. But it was smart to be suspicious of the quiet ones and Rook figured Whip might have some hidden kinks none of them knew about.
If he did, Rook didn’t want to know the details, either.
It was bad enough when they all found out what shit Sig was into, what the man craved. What he needed to hold on to his sanity. But what he no longer got because of Red…
The VP made a huge sacrifice to be with his ol’ lady. But seeing their intense bond, everyone knew Sig didn’t mind making it. Rook had never seen a couple live for each other like those two did.
If one stopped breathing, so would the other.
Rook came back to the present when Billie moved around the bar, beer in hand, and stepped in between his spread legs, running her hand from his knee to the top of his thigh. He froze, worried she’d grab his sac and squeeze it so hard it would drop him to his knees.
“You’ve been pretty cranky. You need a good fucking?” Between her hand and her commanding tone, she was clearly offering herself up, even though she’d just worked over someone else.
He still didn’t know who the “victim” was. Not that it mattered. Because, in truth, he was not in the mood to go a round with Billie tonight.
