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“No. I have enough clothes here. I have to have something at my house, too.” Race waited for Dagger to step into the hall, then followed, closing and locking the door behind him. He needed to remember to text Jackson tonight to let him know he could go ahead and make out the paychecks.
Dagger patted him on the back. “I’m heading out, too. The kids are all out of the house until later, so I’m going to go home and take advantage of an empty house. I just might fuck my wife on the kitchen counter just because I can.”
Race laughed. “Well you better hurry up before one of the kids changes their mind and comes home early.”
He waved goodbye at the gate, Dagger going in the opposite direction.
Twenty minutes later and Race pulled his bike into the garage. The instant silence as he turned off his bike was almost as deafening as the sound of it bouncing off all the walls. He hung his helmet from a handlebar and entered through the kitchen. He didn’t immediately turn the light on, moving around by the light of a partial moon. He took off his cut and hung it on the back of a chair, then took a seat and removed his boots. He yanked his socks off and headed for the laundry room. He flipped the light on and curled his lip at the overflowing basket of dirty laundry he needed to wash.
He poured some liquid laundry detergent in the washer, dropped his socks in, then dug through the basket pulling out everything white he could find. Before he started the washer, he went to his room and found another couple pairs of socks and a couple of white t-shirts on the bathroom floor. He went back and added it to the load to wash and started the washing machine.
Before he could forget, he shot off a text to Jackson to go ahead and get paychecks ready.
As he walked past his kitchen window, he noted lights on at Bellamy’s house. He grabbed a beer and went to the living room, taking up his position in his recliner. He left the lights off in the living room and picked up his binoculars. He focused on the kitchen window and spotted her as she turned the light off and reappeared in her living room. Fuck. Watching Bellamy move around her house was a lot more entertaining than watching T.V.
He ran a hand over his face in frustration. The woman took up way more headspace than he cared to admit. Maybe he should just fuck her and get her out of his system. Then maybe his fascination with her would go away.
“What are you wearing tonight, Bellamy?” he mumbled to himself in the dark. Sure he was being a perv spying on his hot neighbor, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t deny there was chemistry between them, but he refused to give in to it. He had no doubt that Bellamy was not a causal hook-up kind of woman. She was the kind that once you had her, you would never let her go.
Unfortunately, he didn’t think someone like her would be the best old lady material, especially for a Sons of Redemption president. It didn’t matter that he admired the way she’d played him when she slipped her phone in his pocket so she and Calliope could track him to a safehouse. A house where the man who had abused Calliope so badly they’d all wondered if she’d survive was being held, waiting for Jackson to get his justice. Even more impressive was when the two women showed up and Calliope had gotten justice for herself. All that aside, it didn’t matter how impressed he’d been in that moment at how she’d had her girl’s back. The fact remained he wasn’t looking to get tied down.
“Here we go.” Tonight, she was wearing pink flannel pajama bottoms and a short-sleeved white v-neck t-shirt. He bet her nipples were poking at the soft material. Yep. Just like he thought. Her nipples were hard little buds and he could barely make out their pink color through the shirt.
One glance at Bellamy’s hard nipples and his dick was getting hard. Damn it. He needed to quit checking out his sexy neighbor because nothing good could ever come of it. Maybe he should evict her so that he didn’t have to be tempted on a daily basis? That idea held merit but would only work if Calliope didn’t bring her to club parties. Since Calliope was married to Jackson, a Sons of Redemption brother, the odds were not in his favor.
The first time he’d laid eyes on her was at Redemption Days and he’d been intrigued. She was a friend of Calliope’s from back in Denver and after her business burned down, she’d moved here, temporarily staying with Calliope and Jackson. His brother had practically begged him to offer the rental property she now occupied, saying he wanted to be able to fuck his woman anytime he wanted. Race wasn’t sure if it was the best or worst idea he’d ever had when he let her move in.
He focused in on what Bellamy was doing now. She was searching for something amongst her couch cushions. She stood up, smiled and did a happy dance, waving the television remote around. From what he’d been able to figure out, she lost the damn thing at least twice a week.
Holy shit. There went her perfect tits jiggling. If she had any idea he spied on her in moments like this the woman would go nuts. He groaned and had to adjust the way he was sitting to allow more room for his growing erection. She stopped dancing and Race’s eyes went immediately to the hint of pink nipples under her t-shirt. He groaned and reached for the button of his jeans. He unfastened them, pulled the zipper down and allowed his dick to spring from its confines.
“Fuck.” He dropped the binoculars to his side at the same time he dropped his head back on the recliner. Now he was good and worked up. He needed relief and his hand wasn’t going to cut it. He pulled his phone from his back pocket, searched for the name he was looking for and hit dial.
“Hello, Race.” Charlotte’s breathy voice came over the line, like she’d been waiting for his call.
Charlotte was a stripper working at Bottoms Up that he’d hooked up with off and on for several months. If memory served, she didn’t usually work on Wednesday nights which would allow him plenty of time to work out this pent-up sexual tension spying on Bellamy had caused.
“My house. Thirty minutes.” He offered no greeting. None was necessary. Charlotte knew what his call meant. He wanted a quick hard fuck and that was it. No strings, no promises.
“I’m on my way.”
He hung up and willed his cock back down. He reached over and flipped the lamp on and then the television. He took a drink of his beer and surfed through the channels, stopping on the evening news.
Twenty minutes later, a knock sounded at his front door. He got up to answer it, pleased with how quickly his entertainment for the night had gotten there. Swinging the door open, he found Charlotte standing in a lime green puffy coat with a matching beanie, wiggling side to side in the cold. He opened the door wider, allowing her to enter then closed and locked the door behind her.
She kicked off her black insulated snow boots with white fur trim next to the door. She wore skin tight black leggings and a white sweater that left her tight tan stomach bare. She was five foot ten inches, had long blonde hair and dark brown eyes. She was long and slim with just enough curve to her hips to make it interesting. Her tits were fake and big; exactly what the Bottoms Up clientele loved to see. Her thin sweater pulled tight across her ample chest, showcasing her hard nipples. He smirked, knowing she wasn’t wearing a bra and he doubted she wore panties either.
“I’ve only got a couple of hours before I need to be at work.” Charlotte leaned into Race, running a red painted nail down his chest.
“I thought you were off on Wednesday nights.”
“Usually I am, but Caroline called out sick and they needed someone to cover her shift.” Charlotte’s hand cupped his erection through his jeans, giving it a not so gentle squeeze.
Smiling down at her, he said, “Then we better get to it.”
* * *
Bellamy finally foundher television remote. She was the only one who lived in her house so she couldn’t figure out how it always managed to disappear. Nine times out of ten, it was stuck either between the couch cushions or under them. One time, it somehow managed to slip through the couch and ended up under it. She had absolutely no idea how that happened.
