“You are a real dick,” Kat says from next to me.
“Didn’t say I wasn’t.” Putting the new beer to my lips, Kat gets up next to me and walks over to the newly engaged couple.
I try not to throw my drink back up as I watch the sick love fest taking place right in front of my eyes.
What has this woman done to my brother?
“I’m out.” The beer in my hand goes to the counter with a loud tap, and they all turn to me.
Marcus, the only constant thing in my life, narrows his eyes. He’s never cared this much about anything. He is silent and deadly. It’s the way we know him.
“You can’t stay for dinner?” Rochelle asks as Marcus’s mouth thins. He’s clearly fucked off with me.
“You should stay. Don’t be such an ass,” Kat says, stepping away from cuddling the newly engaged couple. Well, her sister. She doesn’t hug Marcus.
Rochelle’s the only person I’ve ever seen hug him.
“I have work to do.”
“You’re the president of a motorcycle club. Delegate and stay, you ass,” Kat says, walking over to the couch. She sits, pulls a blanket out, throwing it on the floor with some toys, and places her daughter on it. When she stands, her blue eyes lock onto mine. “I’ll sit next to you and hold your hand if you’re that scared of my sister,” she states, getting on my last nerve. When she walks over to me, her hips sashay, and I want to bend her over and slam my cock straight into her pussy.
But I don’t.
I won’t.
Strings are attached to her, and the last time I got close to a woman, she killed herself.
That cannot happen again.
Ever.
“Blaze.” I look up. Marcus is now standing in front of me, the girls have disappeared. “She’s the one, be fucking nice.” His hand reaches out and smacks the back of my head as he walks to the table.
“I’m always nice,” I say, pulling a seat out and sitting down. Whatever he’s cooking smells good. Roast and veggies, I think. I never learned to cook because Marcus did it all, and now that I’m older, the women love to cook for me, or I order in. It’s never been a necessity to learn.
“So, you really believe in all that shit. The one?” I laugh, shaking my head.
“She’s the only thing I want and think about. So, yes, I do.”
The girls walk back in, both with a glass of wine in hand, the baby is not with them. Kat walks over and purposely sits next to me as Marcus pulls out Rochelle’s chair and she sits next to him.
“No people to annoy tonight with your little gang?” Kat questions, picking up a breadstick and placing it in her mouth.
“No people you have to annoy tonight, other than me?” I send straight back at her.
“Just you, which is fun. You bite so hard and fast. Tell me, Blaze, how is that little bike of yours? You take that to show off to all your friends?” Kat takes another bite as she stares at me, the room is now silent as she watches me.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
“Yes, actually, I would. I would like to know what makes a grown-ass man form a little club, think he’s all that, and that he runs this city. Because when I look at you, Blaze, I don’t see any of that. Granted, I would take a night in the bed with you. But that’s all you are, right? A night in the bed…” She pauses.
“Kat,” Rochelle says from across the table.
But that doesn’t stop her.
Kat clicks her fingers in front of my face as she leans in close. “Do you all play dress up too? You know, with your man toys. I mean, we all know you wear those ridiculous vests and have little parties to sleep with women. But do you dress up for each other too?”
I push my chair back with a gigantic scrape across the floor.
“Hit a nerve I see. Was it the dressing up part? I mean, because right now you’re wearing normal clothes. Can’t be that hard.” Kat smirks up at me as she bites another piece of bread. Reaching down, I take it from her hand and shove it in my mouth, chewing with my mouth open as I watch her. “It’s okay, I was finished anyway,” Kat says.
“I’m sure you were.” Turning away from this annoying but crazy good-looking woman, I see my brother watching us, or should I say assessing us.
“I’m out. Don’t invite me again, unless it’s just you. One redhead is enough. You had to bring in two?” I say while shaking my head.Chapter FourKat“You made it,” Steve, my assistant manager, says, jumping from his seat. Steve is in his mid-forties. He’s decent looking, a nice guy—if not a bit of a pushover—is reliable, and the best part is he’s not a sleaze like the guy before him. Thank God.