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“I don’t doubt there were things he’s seen in that house; regardless, it is odd that he took you there. That location is secret and no one outside of the club is allowed to know about it. I don’t think he’s taking his hook-ups out there though…Killian doesn’t exactly go all the way with women…I mean as far as I know.”
She had my full attention now. “What do you mean exactly?”
I was being greedy, knowing what Killian had told me himself, but ravenous for an extra perspective.
Her face flushed while her eyes flicked over to Harris, who was a few tables away. Then she lowered her voice and leaned in.
“Sweetbutts talk. I’ve been gone for seven years, so who knows if any of it’s true, but I’ve heard a few call him the ‘suck-off-king.’ The girls have a bet going to see who can get him to cave first. I guess he talks about fucking and all that, but in the end, the girl just sucks him off, then he loses interest, or just doesn’t want to go all the way. I have no idea, but back in the day, Kil would always stay in the club. Girls would try to kiss him; he’d dodge them, until eventually one would just settle for getting on her knees.”
The image of girls kneeling in between his knees was like a knife in the chest, but somehow it was a thousand times better hearing that he didn’t have as many oral hook-ups as he made it seem, and that he’d been telling the truth.
Callie waved her hand as though she was dismissing the whole thing off.
“The only thing I know for sure is that he doesn’t kiss, the rest is all hearsay and a bunch of rumors.”
“He doesn’t kiss?” I scrunched my nose while my heart was thundering in my chest.
Kiss me.
He’d ordered me.
It wasn’t something we’d fallen into; he wanted it. Demanded it.
Twice.
My best friend’s dark hair swayed as she shook her head. “That’s a definite no. Even Wes commented on it a few months back when one of the Sweetbutts had a fit over his rejection. She snuck into his room in the club house and said all she wanted was a kiss. Kil didn’t do it. Even as we were growing up, he never did. Always said kisses were like pebbles, you give one and suddenly you’re being buried six feet deep because you’re fucked in the head and in love.”
My fork clattered to the plate.
Callie flinched at the sound.
“Sorry.”
He’d shared an even deeper sentiment regarding pebbles…and said he didn’t want to lose himself to me…and yet he kissed me, and then he fucked me.
Suddenly I needed more. I was desperate for details about him, and I needed to understand why he changed his rule for me, of all people.
I was about to prod further into Killian’s life when there was a commotion happening outside. Turning in the booth, I watched through the glass as a familiar looking red car was flying down main street with its tires screeching as it took a turn onto our side street.
I watched in horror as the car stopped next to Callie’s and the person in the passenger seat jumped out, wearing a mask. It was one of those hairy wolf masks with the exaggerated jaw and fake teeth, but it covered the person’s identity completely.
They took out a white bottle and began spraying it all over Callie’s car.
“Oh my god.” Callie gasped.
“Harris!” I screamed, jumping out of the booth.
The biker ran over and grabbed Callie, tugging her away from our table.
“Laura!” I heard Callie screaming as Harris lifted her off her feet and carried her out.
The fucker outside had a Zippo lighter.
I was at the door before I heard people screaming for someone to call 911.
It swung open for me with a whoosh, and I was running toward the car.
“What the fuck are you doing?!” I screamed, flying toward the guy.
