Diamond in the Dust (Lost Kings MC 18)

“Honestly, it almost seems like a waste,” Shelby says. “Y’all should be filming it for your porn sites or something.”

Dex, Pants, and even Jiggy all shake with laughter.

“Maybe you can set them up while we’re here,” Shelby says to me.

Z did want me to explore that with Pony while I was here. Help get the Washington charter fully on the right side of the law and off Priest’s shit list.

Pony finally swaggers into the main room to greet us. “New York paying us a visit! And Virginia. Full house this week. Welcome.”

“Good to see you, Prez.” Pants jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Is it too late to sign up for that?”

Pony eyes the pool table and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t if I were you. Foghorn only shares his ol’ lady with prospects.”

“Prospects get a crack at his ol’ lady?” Pants says.

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter at the ceiling.

Pony shrugs. “His old lady. His rules.”

“That seems unfair.”

Unfair isn’t the word I would’ve chosen, but I’m quickly running out of fucks to give about this situation.

“We’ll have plenty of girls here later,” Pony assures us, his gaze straying back to Foghorn.

“All right, first thing—the clit isn’t a doorbell,” Foghorn announces with a completely straight face. He uses both hands to spread his ol’ lady wide. The prospects continue staring at him with rapt attention. Or they’re afraid to look at his old lady’s clit, which is on full display to the entire room.

“You know, I think he’s onto something,” Shelby says. “They ought to teach this in high school.” She lifts one finger, stabbing it in the air like she’s ringing a doorbell. “Sure would prevent a lot of disappointment and probably make the world a happier place.”

Pony chuckles. “This your ol’ lady, Rooster?”

I shake off Shelby’s vision of world peace. “Pony, this is Shelby. Shelby, Pony’s the president of our Gold Falls, Washington charter.”

Should I add that if anyone attempts to ring her doorbell, I’ll beat them to death?

“Welcome, hon.” He shakes her hand. “You’re all stickin’ around, right? We’re supposed to head out to the state park in a bit. Be a nice ride. You can show your lady the scenery, Rooster.”

“Yeah, definitely,” I accept. Pony’s not expecting any answer to his invitation other than yes.

“Good deal.” He pats my back. “All of us riding together will give the local citizens something to gawk at.”

“Don’t stop!” Foghorn’s old lady wails like a siren. “I’m gonna come!”

Pony chuckles. “I’d like to tell you that we’re usually more sophisticated than this.” He waves his hand toward Foghorn. “But I don’t believe in lyin’,”

“No worries,” Shelby says. “After Virginia’s pussy patch challenge, I’m shock-proof.”

Pony cocks his head. Guess word hasn’t gotten around about the patch challenge yet. Pants rubs his grubby hands together and explains the whole competition to Pony.

I slowly back out of that conversation, leading Shelby over to the bar, claiming a stool in the corner.

“You all right?” I ask against her ear.

Soft moans from the pool table can still be heard over here. I can’t help noticing Shelby’s having trouble keeping her gaze away. I hook my arm around her waist and lift her into my lap, turning us so we’re both facing the pool table. “I don’t think they’ll mind us watching.”

“Seems rude.” She slowly swishes her ass against my semi-hard cock. “Is watching them doing something for you?”

“I’m only a man, Shelby.” I drop a kiss on her shoulder. “But you’re the one I want to practice my technique on. Alone. With no other spectators or participants.”

Her nipples press against her shirt like bullets. I brush my thumb over one. “Is it doing something for you?”

A bolt of cold doubt strikes me when she doesn’t answer some version of no right away. As much as I want to do everything possible to make Shelby happy, I couldn’t let another man touch her. I wouldn’t even want my brothers watching me get her off. Jigsaw’s unfortunately overheard us more often than I want to remember—he’s lucky he’s still got his ears attached to his head.

While I’m working that out in my overheated brain, she seems to be trying to come up with an answer for my question. “The idea is kind of hot. The fantasy of a bunch of men completely focused on her pleasure.” Her gaze skips to Pants and Jigsaw, hovering like vultures. “More men admiring her.”

“Waiting to pounce is more like it.”

She nods. “Her partner’s taking the lead, only letting them touch her under his direction, so she knows she’s perfectly safe.”

“That’s part of the fantasy?”

“Sure.”

One of the prospects does something to elicit a cry of pain, not pleasure. Foghorn shoves him out of the way and sends him to the back of the line.

“See,” Shelby says.

Her observations aren’t exactly reassuring the possessive beast inside me, but her analysis has the rest of me completely hypnotized. “Go on.”