Claiming the Biker (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV 9)

October

Beep. Beep. Beep.

My alarm blares from the nightstand as Winston scratches at the bedroom door begging to be let out. “Dude, chill,” I grumble, throwing my covers back and planting my feet on the floor. My right foot glides through something warm and mushy. I automatically know without looking. The fucking dog shit right next to my bed. He does this crap on purpose because he’s a little asshole. “I’m dropping you at the pound, bro.”

His response is a grunt and snort as his pink little tongue hangs out the left side of his mouth. Winston knows my threats are empty. I’d never go through with it. I love him as though he’s my child. My annoying, disgusting, fury child with bug eyes who slobbers and snots way too much. He usually pulls stunts like this when Viking sleeps over. He’s a jealous little asshole. They both are.

I haven’t been sleeping that great. One of my former classmates has gone missing. It’s been blasted all over our local news. Mariah was always a sweetheart. I just hate the thought that something terrible has happened to her. I know she has a kid, and I can’t imagine how worried her family must be. I went as far as calling my friend Bianca and asking her if there was anything she can do to help. She has a reputation for having what I’d refer to as special intuition while others would straight up call her a witch.

I bought some perfume from the shop she runs with her grandma for Hazel to spice things up with Holy when they were having issues. Supposedly it contains mood boosting pheromones to make a man desire you. I’m not saying I’m a believer, but it seemed to do the trick.

I hobble to the door, careful not to track dog shit across the hardwood flooring as I open it to let the little devil out so he can go destroy something in the living room until I feed him. I’ve gone as far as having cameras installed so I can keep an eye on the shithead when I’m at work because he gets bored and lonely and is creative in letting me know he’s mad at me.

I know I should crate him, but I’d feel terrible with how many hours I work. Plus, I can’t always count on my mom or Viking being able to let him out.

I showered before I crawled into bed last night, so I stick my right foot in the tub and get to scrubbing trying not to vomit. Being a nurse, you wouldn’t think a little dog shit would perturb me, but it turns my stomach.

My mom bought me a t-shirt when I graduated from nursing school that read, 'I’m a nurse. I’ll touch anything as long as I’m wearing gloves.'

I snort remembering it. She was so proud of herself for finding it online and receiving it in time.

I pat my foot dry while Winston tugs on the end of my towel wanting me to play with him. I spy one of his favorite balls and toss it out the door. He takes off running doing a skid across the floor as he loses his grip. He snatches the ball with his teeth and darts back to the bathroom as I try to brush my teeth. Getting ready always takes longer now that I have this booger demanding ninety percent of my attention.

I get the dog fed and throw on my workout clothes for Zumba at Viking’s gym.

I started out taking the class for an excuse to see him but now I look forward to it. My ass has never been so firm.

I’ve never been this size in my life. I still have curves but now I’m tone. Viking says he’d like me either way as long as I don’t lose my tits. Such a freaking man.

At the gym Viking is busy talking to the dude who delivers his water, and I don’t want to interrupt him. I give him a small wave and go on to my class.

The side of the gym that has the room for the Zumba class has a two-way glass wall. I know exactly why he had it designed this way. So the guys working out can watch all the women jiggling their asses around.

Our instructor gets in place while the rest of the class files in and takes their positions. She starts us off easy with the basic stretches to warm us up. Behind the instructor is a mirrored wall so I catch glimpses of Viking while he works. He’s always answering questions giving fitness advice. I had no idea that he actually took classes for this stuff until he told me.

He’s really proud of his business and he’s good at working with the guys who come in and train to box and stuff. I was shocked at all the different classes he offers and that he employs a few instructors and trainers. When he first brought up that he owned it, I was picturing a bunch of dudes beefed up on steroids fighting in a cage or something.

Halfway through my class he motions me over. I grab a complimentary towel and wipe the sweat from my brow. He must need something important for him to yank me out during my workout.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Got a medical emergency in my office.”

“Okay, you should probably call emergency services.”

“It’s not that serious. You’ll see.” He has this weird grin on his face that confuses me. If he’s trying to drag me into his office for a blow job or something I may kill him.

“Do you have a first aid kit?”

Viking closes the door behind me. Sandman, one of his club brothers is standing by the desk looking all antsy. I’m about to ask what the problem is when he drops trow right in front of me exposing himself. “Penis,” I shout and put a hand over my eyes.

I’m going to kill Viking for this. Like murder him.

“Think you could have warned me?”

“Does it look normal?”

I discreetly peek through my fingers at it. I don’t know how else to describe it other than maybe he has a bad case of blue balls. It’s so purple, veiny, and well angry looking. “What did you do?”

“Went and got himself cursed by a witch,” Viking volunteers.

“A curse?” I immediately think about Bianca always threatening to curse boys in school. “Are you talking about Bianca?” My gaze drops to his dick again. “Can you put that thing away?” I fight a giggle and snort. “Why did she curse your dick?”

He jerks his shorts up. “You know it’s very offensive to laugh when a man shows you his pork and beans.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t.” I shake my head as blush spreads over my face and down my freaking neck. “Whew.” I let out a breath afraid I’m going to cry because the way he’s looking at me and thinking about his angry purple headed yogurt slinger. Now I know what that saying meant in school. “Um. No. You’re right. I apologize.” I clear my throat and pull it together. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Shiloh called it lumpy.” Viking chuckles.

“Lumpy? If his dick is lumpy, he may want to get that checked out.”

“I was trying to get a blow job, and I was thinking about your witch friend. Bitch has been in my head for days. My shit wouldn’t get hard. It was semi hard. And that cunt said my dick felt weird. Then I saw Bianca again and she grabbed my dick and said something weird in another language. She’s cursed my dick, I’m telling you.”

“Okay…but what am I supposed to do about it? You’ll have to ask her to remove the curse.” He can’t seriously believe she put a hex on his dick.

“I was afraid you’d say that,” he grumbles, shooting me a dirty look so I give him one back.

Jerk.

“Sounds like a personal problem.”

“Smart ass,” he mutters.

“Not my fault you crossed Binx. And you… what the fuck?” I slap Viking in the shoulder as he laughs. “You could have prepared me to see your pal’s dick.”

“I can show you mine too if it’ll help, princess.”

“Absolutely not.” I mean don’t get me wrong I’m all for his dick but not after what I just saw and not in front of Sandman.

“It’s only fair.” His hands go to the drawstring of his grey sweatpants.