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“She’s resting. It was a long trip.” Winter didn’t smile at the younger man. The prospect -- Deacon -- wasn’t deterred. He got himself a beer and opened the top, then clinked the neck with hers.
“Glad you ventured out. I was hoping I’d get to meet you.”
Winter turned her full attention to him then. “You were? Why?” She didn’t make it sound like a question. More like a demand. Like she sensed a trap and was determined not to fall for it.
Deacon shrugged. “I always enjoy meeting beautiful women.”
“Looks like there’s plenty of women here for you without me or my sister being on your radar.” Her face hardened. “Stay away from my sister.”
Deacon raised his hands in surrender. “Hey. I’m not interested in hurtin’ anyone. I just like havin’ a good time. Someone don’t wanna party with me, I won’t be forcin’ ‘em.” The only reason Deacon got to live was his tone of voice and his expression. He didn’t laugh her off, and he wasn’t making fun of her or her fears. “Just wantin’ the two of you to feel welcome.”
“Uh-huh.” Winter eyed him as she took another pull from her beer. “I don’t see you trying to make Iris feel welcome.”
“That’s cause Iris is our prez’s ol’ lady. You don’t mess with a brother’s woman. I’m nice to her. I respect her. I’ll protect her the same as I’d protect our president. But I ain’t gonna get cozy with her.”
“And you were trying to get cozy with me?” Winter scowled at him.
He gave her a charming smile that had me wanting to beat him to a bloody pulp. I had to force myself to stand there and listen to the son of a bitch and not act on my instincts.
“Honey, any man in this club who don’t wanna get cozy with you is a Goddamn fool. You’d make a fierce ol’ lady.”
“You don’t know me,” she snapped, looking angry as hell. “If this is some kind of bet where you try to get in my pants so your brothers can laugh at me when I make it easy for you, you’re wasting your time. I have no interest in sex with anyone here.” She snatched her beer. “Excuse me.”
“That’s not what this is,” Deacon called after her as she stood to leave.
Winter moved to the other side of the room, where she stood by herself and continued to try to read the room. She was close to a group of club girls, and I knew there would be a confrontation soon. The only question was how many fireworks would be set off.
I kept my eye on her but moved to the bar where Deacon shook his head as he stared at her. “That woman’s a biker’s wet dream.” He was talking to himself more than me, but I felt the need to respond.
“She is. I’d suggest you treat her like you would Iris, though. Her man might get the idea you’re encroaching on his territory.”
Deacon didn’t take his eyes off Winter. “Oh? Who’s her man?” I doubt the pup even knew who he was talking to.
“Me, you dumb shit.”
He whipped his head around in surprise, his mouth open. “Roman? I’m sorry, man. Didn’t know you’d claimed her.”
“Ain’t yet. ‘Cause she just got here. You pass the word around. Anyone thinkin’a movin’ in on her, better be ready to tangle with me.”
“I’ll spread the word.” The other man nodded gravely, taking everything I said seriously. Because of that, I decided to not give him a beat down. For now.
I watched as a club whore approached Winter, looking her up and down. Jezlynn said something that made Winter’s face harden. She didn’t back down from the other woman but didn’t respond to her either. Just gave her a steady gaze. When Jezlynn continued, the other women laughed and spoke amongst themselves, obviously supporting Jezlynn in whatever mischief she was causing. I saw the exact moment when whatever they said to Winter hit their mark.
“Ah, hell…” Deacon saw it too.
“Yeah. I think you’re right.”
* * *
Winter
“Bet it hurts to look in the mirror, don’t it, honey? I know a good cosmetologist who could probably do something with your face.” The bitch didn’t sound like she cared one way or the other. I knew she was just trying to hurt me. She succeeded. I’d known this would happen. It was the only reason I was out there now instead of helping Serelda get settled. I wanted to get the women in the club used to seeing my scars so maybe when Serelda joined me away from our room they’d leave her alone for the most part. Instead of rising to the bait, I just looked at the woman and let her and her friends continue.
“That why you wear long sleeves and those hideous pants? You got ‘em all over you?” That came from one of the women behind the first one. A gaggle of club whores. Lovely.
“No competition there,’’ another of the women commented. “No biker around here’d want a used-up whore.”
“Yeah,” the first one continued. “Bet whoever put those scars on you got tired of your bitchin’ and whinin’. You know, if you’d learn how to suck cock and fuck a man properly, he won’t cut you.” They all laughed.
