Devil's Girl(19)

“Sorry,” I mumbled, then, “It still hurts.”

“Well, it’s going to be a couple hours. Keep the room for the night. I’ll leave this here.” She set the jug down on the sink. “Lie down on the bed when you can stand it and just keep reapplying for a while.” She scowled. “Foolish girls. Just plain foolish.”

“Thank you, Nella.”

“Well. Just remember.” She tapped the jug.

I laughed. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget. Goddamn.”





I never got the chance to escalate or to take my turn in the little war of ours. Dawn was good - I could give her that much. The girl knew how to push my buttons.

Word of my incident spread. Between that apparently hilarious episode and Dawn’s night on the leash, things were getting very entertaining in the clubhouse bar for the guys, and the bikers suddenly frequented the place in bigger numbers.

Gunner especially was a sore spot for me. I liked to think I was the only girl who could handle what he dished out, who could give him what he needed. It wasn’t affection or a crush or anything like that - it was simply territory. Simply pride in taking on the fierce biker; in sating the beast. It was my job, my place, not hers.

But it looked like Dawn could handle him perfectly well. He chose her over me time and again, so she was doing everything I could do. And then some - then she gave him the one thing I couldn’t make myself give him.

It was just around sunset that Friday. Many of the bikers were slipping out of their legit day jobs early to have a few beers and check up on what the crazy bitches were going to get into next. I was contemplating my next move. Irish had a few awful suggestions involving drugs and/or laxatives.

“I know you helped her with the pepper,” I said dryly. At least he had the decency to turn red. “If you play both sides, one day both of us will realize that neither of us can trust you.”

“I don’t need your trust, I just need your love,” he said, and made an exaggerated kissy face at me.

“Ugh, shoot me now.” I watched out the corner of my eye as Dawn sidled up to Gunner. He was sitting in a chair at one of the small tables, drinking bourbon and shooting the shit with Anchor and the older man’s new lady friend.

“Hey baby,” she purred, sliding onto his lap, “Anything I can do for you?” She made an obscene little show of wiggling on his lap. Anchor and the woman exchanged a knowing smirk. Dawn eyed me as she said, “Unless you’d like Ivy’s company better.”

Gunner’s eyes were locked on her chest. “You’re all right.” He lowered his head and nuzzled between them with a growl. Dawn laughed.

“I’m the best, right?” she said. He grunted an affirmation.She tilted his head up and kissed him, their tongues dancing and tangling for everyone to see. I scoffed and turned back to the bar. Irish was intently watching their little show.

“Really?” I asked him. Dawn still wouldn’t give him the time of day. It only made him try harder to get her attention. At least I’ve been getting more free beer out of it.

He snorted. “She’s gonna fuck him right here.”

My heart sank. There were few things that Gunner - or any of the bikers, really - couldn’t talk me into doing. But I couldn’t fuck them in the bar. Everyone’s got a line they can’t cross, and that was mine, despite knowing that plenty other biker bitches did it, and plenty of college girls passing through would do it, and so on and so on. The room was no stranger to public sex acts, though it hadn’t seen it very much while I was the only bitch there. Maybe it was how I convinced myself that sleeping around the club wasn’t so bad - in my head, if it took place behind closed doors, it wasn’t anyone else’s business. Out in the open air? It was everybody’s business. It was out there for everyone to watch. And what did that make me?

So “no losing your pants at the bar” was my policy and it let me live in just a little denial. Gunner was the only one who really had any complaints about it.

“So trashy,” I said, shaking my head, as if I wasn’t wearing a microscopic miniskirt and tight camisole that barely covered my chest. As if I’d never fucked men ten, twenty years older than me, fucked more than one guy in one night, fucked drunk and high and violent bikers, fucked for cash and favors… At least I’ve stayed off drugs. Mostly. I had a good and healthy fear of that downward spiral.

Sure enough, when I glanced over my shoulder again, Dawn was pulling Gunner’s cock free from his pants and murmuring in his ear. He slid a hand up her skirt to cup her ass and grinned broadly. No undies. Classy. I wanted to get out of there, but I didn’t want to give her - either of them - the satisfaction of making me flee. I didn’t want them to know they were getting to me.