Stash pats his brother’s shoulder. “Cool story, bro. Now, which chapter is the one where you finally shut the fuck up?”
Chapter Sixty
Shelby
We arrive at the upstate clubhouse late the next day.
“Woo…brrr.” My teeth chatter as I climb off the back of Rooster’s bike. “That last stretch was chilly.” I hug myself, rubbing my arms.
Concern darkens Rooster’s face. “Why didn’t you say something?”
I shrug. “Didn’t want to break up the whole formation and everything.”
“You all right with staying here tonight?” Rooster asks me as everyone else dismounts from their bikes, stretches, and rehashes the ride.
“Sure.”
“I think we’re all staying here tonight,” Steer says.
Z slaps Rooster’s back. “You should park your little flamingo camper up here.” He jerks his thumb toward the woods. “I’ll rent you a space next to my house.”
Lilly elbows his side. “You can’t make money off your brothers.”
“Sure I can.”
Laughing, I follow them inside.
“Tired, chickadee?” Rooster asks.
“Actually, yeah.”
“Come on.” He slips his hand around mine and leads me upstairs. It’s noisy as brothers traipse in and out of rooms, setting their gear down and yelling to each other in the hallway.
“Jesus, knock it off,” Rooster grumbles as we pass Ravage’s room.
“I have a feeling I’ll be saying the same in about twenty minutes.” Rav twists his fist in front of him in a jerk-off motion.
Rooster doesn’t take the bait. He keeps moving, finally opening the last door on the left.
He locks the door behind us as I set my bag on the floor and stretch, letting out a long yawn.
Heavy hands settle on my shoulders and warm breath caresses my ear. “He’s not wrong.”
“You wanna jerk off?” I tease. “Have at it.”
He snorts and turns me to face him. “That’s not what I had in mind.” He runs his finger over my vest. “You look hot in this.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank you for wearing it.”
I glance down and slide my finger over the smooth leather. “I kinda liked everyone knowing who I was with. I’d prefer if it said ‘partner of’ instead of ‘property of’ but I like having your name on me.”
His mouth twists as if he’s trying not to laugh. “I’ll bring that up for a future vote.”
“Sure you will. How gullible do you think I am?” I push him toward the bathroom. “I need a shower before I take a nap.”
“No complaints here.”
He might be feeling frisky but he’s gentle and focused as he slides my vest off and hangs it on the back of the door.
“Go on. I’ll join you in a minute,” he says, motioning to the shower.
After being chilled for so long, the warm water stings my skin. I stand under the spray for the longest time warming myself.
“You all right?” Rooster opens the door and steps in behind me.
“Having myself a warm water trance. Feels too good to move.”
“Come here.” He pulls me against his big, warm body and reaches for a bottle of shampoo, holding it in front of my face. “This okay to use on your hair?”
My throat tightens. It’s a simple but thoughtful question. I stare at the bottle. A fancier brand than I’m used to, but I doubt Logan knows the difference. “Sure,” I answer.
He lathers a healthy dollop between his hands and rubs my scalp, gently digging his fingers through my heavy layers of wet hair.
“Feel better?” he asks.
“I’m defrosted.” I sigh as he pours shower gel into his palm and slides his hands over my shoulders.
“Mmm.” He slows his movements, turning our shower into a decadent massage. “I’m looking forward to earmuff weather.”
I turn my head enough to see him in my peripheral vision. “Earmuff?”
He glides his hands down my back, over my hips and squeezes. “I want to spend a lot of chilly nights wearing your thighs as earmuffs,” he explains.
It’s so sweet and silly. I burst into laughter that echoes in the shower and turn to face him. “I’m going to love living in New York, aren’t I?”
“You’re going to love living with me.”
I touch his bristly cheek, sliding my thumb over his lower lip. “Already do.”
He kisses my palm and continues washing me, working his large hands in firm circles over my shoulders, to my breasts.
I gasp as his thumbs graze the hard peaks but he keeps moving lower, hands swirling over my stomach until he’s crouching before me.
He lifts one of my feet to his shoulder, opening me to his penetrating gaze and thorough washing.
My back hits the shower wall. I’d be afraid of slipping but we’re so crowded into the confined space, there’s nowhere to go.
“What are you doing?” I run my fingers through his hair, needing to touch him too.
“Washing you.” He catches my eye and gives me a wicked grin. “Riding’s dirty business.”
His soapy fingers glide over my foot and circle my ankle, where he stops to press a kiss. He pours more shower gel into his hands and slides up my calves, tickling the sensitive skin behind my knee and setting off a throbbing as he grazes my inner thigh.