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Phantom looked down again.
Colt suddenly stopped talking. There was a pregnant pause. Someone chuckled. Phantom snapped his eyes back up defensively. And blinked at the screen. It was a photo of Sophie. Stretching out her back, her fingers on her upper bum, pushing her arms back and down, arching. It was a closeup but clear. Phantom shot a breath out of his nose. Ah fuck.
Colt flicked to the next photo. Sophie again, smiling down at a cup of coffee. Next photo. Fuck, a close up of Sophie, ice cream dripping down her hand, licking her finger.
“Phantom, brother, she’s a sweet little thing,” Lyle chimed, tilting his head, his dark eyes dancing with mirth.
Jared scoffed. “Too sweet for our monster of the shadows.”
The brothers laughed. Phantom tried to keep his face impassive, but he looked at the photo of Sophie, and he couldn’t stay neutral. He frowned a little. Colt caught it.
Colt licked his lips. “Phantom, buddy, would you be ready for that? I mean, in whatever capacity, even as a one-time fuck, could you handle that?” he asked, nodding to the photo of Sophie, her lips sealed around her finger, sucking.
No, Phantom knew he was not ready, he would never be ready, but he still burned with want. He wanted her.
Colt continued, “I mean, you’ve not been exactly warm with the sweetbutts…”
He hadn’t been near the sweetbutts. They’d sidled up to him, tried to sit on his lap, tried to touch him, and he’d recoiled. He’d been playing cards with Jared and Ash once, and one of the girls had timidly edged over to him. He’d leveled her with a gaze. And she had unzipped his jeans. He’d yanked her up by her wrist and howled like a werewolf in her face. Spittle had flown and covered her. Everyone had stopped and stared. He knew it, they all saw him for the animal he was. He didn’t mind, he wanted them to know. He had continued playing cards, kept his poker face in place. They meant nothing to him. Then, he’d pushed her off, zipped up his trousers and won the hand.
Ash and Jared had looked at each other. He knew what they were thinking. Cold, heartless bastard. They were more than happy to let the girls paw at them, kiss them, massage their egos and their dicks. Ash was no stranger to the sweetbutts and Jared would frequently pick one of them up, toss them over his shoulder and have his way with them back in his room for the night. They loved the sweetbutts hanging around. April didn’t. The Prez’s ol’ lady, his wife. Phantom liked April, he respected her. If she was pissed off, Phantom was pissed off. The sweetbutts hated April, too, it meant they couldn’t get near Colt. And their President was an attractive man. April hissed at them, and so Phantom barely tolerated them, too. He didn’t want them. He only felt want for the first time watching Sophie, moving about in her new ice cream parlor.
After that, none of the sweetbutts tested him. Their job was to please the brothers of the MC though. All of them, and the girls knew they should please him, too, it was their duty. So they approached him again, reluctantly and he would either turn away without a blink, or growl under his breath like a feral dog, warning them off.
He only pleasured himself in his bed, in the dark. He didn’t want to see his own body. His ugliness. He had tattoos on his shoulders, his forearms. He’d got them done as his only avenue of self expression. He’d been punished, sure, but it was worth it. She had punished him. But then she had forgiven him and everything had gone on as before. The last time he had been with anyone… it had been her. She had owned him and he had to perform for her. That’s all he had known. He knew they only added to his forbidding demeanor. No, the ugliness he hid was not his tattoos, but his scars. On his stomach, scars interlaced on top of scars. Short sharp slashes, each with a story to tell. A horror story. Enough for Hollywood to make a whole franchise out of if he could form the words. But he could not. He was a creature hiding in the shadows from the pits of hell and belonged far away from the light.
Jared widened his eyes. “If you want her, you’ll have to do something about it, brother, ‘cause she’ll get snapped up fast in this town if she’s single.”
Phantom knew that. He stared at Jared, conveying through his leaden stare how much he fucking knew it and didn’t need the likes of Jared telling him.
“Who is she?” Ash asked.
Colt shifted in his seat. Everyone stared back at Phantom. He gazed back. They knew the rules. They had to ask him yes or no questions if they wanted to get anything from him.
“Not someone at the pharmacy?” Colt asked.
Better, Phantom thought. Fine, he’d play ball. Phantom raised his head, cocking it a fraction of an inch to the side. That meant no.
Colt pointed at the photo. “Not there, a shop nearby?”
Phantom raised an eyebrow, and deigned to grunt his response. “Hmm.” Yep, getting close, Prez.
Colt flicked through more of the photos and worked it out.
“The new cafe next door?”
“Hmm.” Phantom blinked slowly with both eyelids, closing them fully for a second longer than a blink. Yes.
“Aha, Sophie’s Soft Scoops,” Ash said. “Maybe I should make a call to her, she looks like a tasty little -” Ash didn’t get to finish his sentence. Phantom was beside him in a heartbeat, his hand had darted out of nowhere and fixed around Ash’s throat.
Lyle snorted with suppressed laughter.
Colt didn’t blink at this sudden violent action, he just sighed. “Ash’s joking with you, buddy,” Colt said evenly to Phantom.
Phantom felt Ash’s pulse quicken under Phantom’s palm. He felt anger. And he felt the power to deal with that anger. All it would take would be to tighten his grip. He knew he could. Yet at the same time, he knew he couldn’t though. He released Ash’s neck. Ash gasped, coughed.
“Fuck, I was just kidding, if you want her, she’s yours. I’m just saying, though, she’s cherryade sweetness itself, she’s missionary and cupcakes on Sundays after Church and rose petals on the bed, if you can land a girl like that-”
Phantom burned Ash with a scorching glare. Fuck you, Phantom thought.
