Easy blew out a slow breath as he remembered watching Cage get the shit beat out of him with it. He also remembered how the road captain looked afterward.
At minimum, he certainly didn’t want to risk his place in the club. Maybe it was time to put his boot down and make some demands from her.
Or, fuck it, he should just end it. That was what he should do. A clean fucking break and just forget it ever happened.
Yep, that’s what he should do.
Tonight.
He would just need to stay strong when she snuck into his room. He needed to say no.
He huffed out a breath, already knowing that wasn’t going to happen.
Trip pulled Easy from his thoughts. “Let’s finish this meetin’ off right…” Boots stomped and fists pounded chests as the president yelled, “From the ashes we rise!”
“For our brothers we live and die!” rose around them in unison. And like always, it sent chills through Easy.
Best fucking day of his life was finding this club.
If she got caught coming in or out of his room, it might also be his worst.
He only hoped to fuck that didn’t happen.
Easy headed over to the bar and slipped behind it. He wasn’t the only one with the same idea.
“Where’d you find your new ride?” Deacon asked as he took the beer Trip offered him.
Easy leaned back against the bar, waiting for his turn to grab a draft. “Jersey.”
Deacon’s face twisted at his answer.
“Just pickin’ up my new sled, ain’t movin’ there,” Easy assured the club treasurer.
“Who’s goin’ with you?” Judge asked.
“Shade.”
The enforcer nodded. “To be safe, don’t wear your colors.”
They weren’t planning on it. Not with what they were planning on doing.
And what they were doing was only between him and Shade.
His eyes opened as soon as his door did.
Didn’t matter how fucking knocked out he was, didn’t matter what time that door opened, but the second it did, it was better than any damn alarm clock he’d ever used.
And of course, his cock woke up, too.
He needed to send her the fuck away. That was what he should do. Pussy wasn’t worth a potential blanket party being thrown in his honor. Or getting his colors stripped. Or even fucking dying.
Yeah, there were much safer women out there. Like the sweet butts. Like… Jesus… anyone but her.
Absolutely anyone else.
Her routine was the same every time. Slip in, slip everything off and slip into his bed.
Only, her slip-pery shit was making the situation slippery for him, too.
He should demand she get the fuck out of his room and out of his life. Go find some other sucker’s dick to ride other than his.
He opened his mouth to tell her that and nothing came out. He couldn’t get the words past his lips.
To tell her to go. To leave him alone. To stop fucking with his head. To get the fuck out.
Why the fuck did she make him so goddamn weak?
Of course he said nothing as her clothes hit the floor, nothing when she pulled his sheet back and nothing when the mattress shifted under her weight.
He didn’t stop her when she dug into the top drawer of his plastic storage unit next to his bed. He didn’t stop her when she slipped down his body and her hot, wet mouth wrapped around his cock. He certainly didn’t stop her when her hand fisted him as she sucked him hard and fast until her warm saliva dripped down his balls.
He said nothing when he heard the foil wrapper tear, or when the wrap replaced her mouth. Or when his fingers dug into her hair and he used it to pull her up his body.
Tonight he wasn’t so gentle with that handful, making sure to give it an extra hard tug. To let her know things were about to change.
Before she could shift enough to slide down his cock, he twisted until she had to take his weight instead. He pinned her down to the bed and held her there. Not sliding inside her, not kissing her, not touching the tits he now knew so damn well.
Not doing anything she wanted from him.
He ignored the scent of her arousal filling his nostrils, and the soft pants escaping her parted lips and filling his ears.
Her legs circled his hips and she squirmed under him, encouraging him to take her.
And, for fuck’s sake, did he want to. He wanted to slide inside what now belonged to him.
She belonged to him.
At least in his own head.
Because she would probably disagree if he said it out loud.
So, he didn’t.
Instead, tonight he made her wait. If he waited long enough, would it push her to the point where she begged for what she wanted from him, where she demanded him to meet her needs, where she actually said his name while in his bed?