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I look to the ceiling, praying to a god I don’t believe in to save me from another fight with this immovable man. Every single argument ends with him getting his way. Granted, everything he wants is for my benefit, but still, a little free agency would be nice.
“Yes. I’m not going to bend on this. I need to see Mom with my own eyes and spend time with her. Weekends are best since Ray is at the casino or doing whatever he does that gets him covered in blood.”
He’s almostgrowlingat this point. “It’s not safe.”
“Jesus Christ, Colin. You’re not my babysitter or my parent. I’m going, like it or not.”
“The hell you are.” He storms out of the room before I can argue.
We’ll see about that.
CHAPTERTHIRTEEN
RIGGER
As I ride to the Honey Pot, my mind replays the scene in front of the Nature Room like it has a million times over the last few days. Watching Betty do her thing was hot, but what had me going was the way Vivi was reacting. Her pale cheeks were flushed, her lips parted, and whether or not she realized she was doing it, she clenched her thighs together so tight, she could’ve made a diamond out of coal had one been between them.
I was captivated, and that was confusing as all hell. I should’ve been grossed out, but I wasn’t, not even close. If that wasn’t enough to fuck me up, the rage I felt when that Tarzan motherfucker eyed Vivi up threw me over the edge. Not because I wanted to protect her, but because I was. . . jealous. I was fucking jealous.
Ain’t that some shit?
What’s even bigger shit is that each night I go back to the clubhouse, full of hot chicks looking to suck my soul out of my dick, and I haven’t touched one. Ever since Vivi came back into my life, my hand has been the only thing getting action from me. And even then, the only thoughts I have while I blow my load are of my stepsister.
The sound of someone laying on their horn brings me back to the here and now, and I shake my head to clear the memory when I realize I’m flying through traffic, weaving around cars, lost in thought. Easing back on the throttle, I force my attention back on the road.
As I ride through the iron gates, pride washes over me the same way it always does when I pull onto the property. My eyes catch on the marble fountain out front that features a naked woman, one hand cupping a breast, the other cupping her cunt, a steady stream of water falling between her legs. Some might see it as crass, but I think it’s goddamn beautiful.
Who else can say they took their love of women and turned it into a fucking Disneyland for adults?
I park and enter through the side of the building. It’s Friday, and according to Vivi, she’s going home. Unfortunately for her, I have different plans, because there’s no way in hell I’m letting her anywhere near Ray. Until this order to stay away from him lifts, Ray can get away with murder. Now that he knows Vivi means something to me, I know he’ll fuck with her just to fuck with me. I can’t let that happen. She needs a distraction, and I have the perfect one to offer. I just hope her stubbornness doesn’t stop her from joining me.
“Hey, Vivi,” I yell as I knock.
“Hold your horses,” she calls back. A couple seconds later, she swings the door open. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to take you to a party.” I reach my arms overhead and grip the top of the doorframe.
“I told you, I’m going home.”
I shake my head with a smile. “Not tonight. The Prez and VP of our founding chapter are in town, and there’s a party at the clubhouse. Thought you might want to check it out.”
Her head tilts. “I don’t know what any of that means.”
“The Sons of Erebus are nationwide, but the original club was started in Phoenix in 1978 by a guy named Tripod. Occasionally, he pops into the other chapters to check in and make sure everything’s good. He’s in Reno tonight, and that means a huge party.”
She gives me an exasperated look. “You thought I’d want to go, why?”
“Because I want to introduce you to my family, and most of ’em will be there.” I reach through the door and give her shoulder a little shove. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“I need to change,” she says.
I look down, only now noticing that she’s in a pair of holey cut-off jeans and a baggy tank top. My eyes catch on her tits. She’s not wearing a bra, and her nipples are pebbled tight. Jesus fuck.
She’s your sister.
She’s your sister.
Not even chanting that over and over in my head stops me from noticing how long her damn legs are and how creamy all that bare skin is. It can’t be normal for me to think like this. If she could hear the thoughts running through my head, she’d take what little money she’s earned and hightail it to Henderson as fast as she could.
