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I tugged her hand to lead her through the upstairs doorway. The small lounge was thick with smoke, and the music was loud.

“Why?”

“Because every time you bent over to take a shot, there were a dozen sets of eyes on this.” I slapped her ass.

Her eyes lit up.

“Want me to grab drinks to bring to our room?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “Vodka cooler for me.”

“What if we’ve got none?”

“I’ll come with you and see what the options are.”

Eyes landed on us as we made our way through the larger lounge to the bar.

Scott and Bront were playing foosball. I spotted, but ignored Skip on the couch, that redhead from the other day on his lap. Blow was at the bar, three lines of cocaine on the bar top while he made out with Dina, who was back and dressed even sluttier than the night before. Marlena was still in the hospital.

Fucking turd. One of the waitresses downstairs was seen coming out of his room one morning this week, too. I heard Spencer bitching to Deacon, saying his girl had a fit about seeing her on his lap. That led to a fit Blow had pitched during the following church sesh about the attitude he got from Spency’s woman, sayin’ maybe wives and girlfriends should be kept out of the clubhouse other than for family parties. That got shut down so fast it never stood a chance of making it to a vote, and I saw the disappointment in Skip’s eyes at that. It’d work well for him if his woman was never allowed around unannounced.

I reached into the fridge behind the bar and grabbed a beer for me, a berry vodka cooler for her, then passed them to Gigi before I bent and hauled her up over my shoulder and paddled her ass again as I made my way down the hall.

Edge passed us coming out of the john and let out a wolf whistle.

She squealed with glee.

***

When we got into my room, I divested her of the drinks and then after setting them on the dresser and setting her on her feet, I immediately worked to divest her of her clothes.

“Mm. Can’t wait to taste you. Fuck you. Hear you whimper my name. Not stopping till you’ve come five times.”

“Oh my God, yes!” she drunkenly, happily exclaimed, then whipped her shirt off and tossed it.

I slapped her ass. “Whose job is it to undress you?”

“Yours. Sorry, baby. I forgot.” She smirked. And then she undid her pants.

I looked her in the eyes and raised my eyebrows.

“Guess you gotta spank me again, huh?” She snapped the strap of her underwear by her hip.

Her voice and that vision? Both went straight to my cock.

Fuck, this girl could make a mint as a phone sex operator.

I rolled her leather pants down below her hips and finding she had on just a tiny red thong, slapped her ass cheek.

“Ooh!” she went for my mouth with hers. “I like spankings.”

I laughed, then sobered a little while I squatted, taking her pants to her ankles. “Kinda got that last night, baby. Not to mention that face you make every time I slap it.” I decided not to mention any of the things Edge said to me. I just filed it away and was trying to forget about it. “Wait. What’s this?”

She went rigid when she realized what I was looking at.

Three little scabs on her calf.

“You get hurt?” I asked, touching them. They were evenly spread apart and exactly like the scabs I’ve seen on her before. These looked fresh. Nowhere near ready to fall off.

She bit her lip and shame filled her features.

“You hurt yourself?” I amended. “Since our last conversation about this shit a few days ago?”

She gulped down a swallow, eyes dropping to her feet. “I…” She stepped out of the pants and sat on the bed.

I backed up, hands raised, then I clasped the doorknob behind me.

“Jesse?” she stood, panic in her eyes. “No, don’t go.”

“I need air.”

She burst into tears. “Oh my God. I’m fucking this up.” She grabbed for me.

“I need air, woman.”

She clung to me. “Jesse, please…”

“Let me go, G. I need a fuckin’ minute.”

She released me, fear in her eyes. “You’re coming back?”

“Gimme a goddamn minute. Fuck.”

I slipped out and went left. There was too much fucking noise in here. Too many people. People even in the kitchen. A couple on the verge of fucking against the wall beside the fridge. The Roadhouse was closed by now. The last of the staff would’ve cleared out, I hoped. Why did we have so many fuckin’ non-club members up here while we’re under lockdown? Fucking Blow.

I ignored the tangle of bodies fucking on the couch in the little room at the back, particularly because a voice I was sure was Dina’s beckoned me to join in. I went down the back stairs and found Coco mopping the floor, all the chairs upturned on tables.

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