Misfit(46)
“I ain’t encourage fuck all. Ask him what the fuck I told him.”
“You allowed him to go with Cash and Daphne and he’s supposed to be in a relationship with Mindy. If that’s not encouraging him to cheat, what is?”
The more she spoke, the more rigid her muscles got. If she kept talking, she’d work herself up so much she’d lock him out her pussy for a fucking month.
“I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.”
“You goin’ to sleep now?” He fucking prayed she would. It would shut her thoughts fucking down.
She huffed out a breath. “Don’t let Daphne go, Christopher. Women are always going to want you. You’re the president. You’re beautiful. You’re sexy. You’re everything,” she whispered. “My everything.”
He smirked at the back of her head, not feeling quite so low at hearing how she saw him. Closing the distance between them, he nuzzled her neck.
She elbowed his chest. “I said don’t touch me.”
Blowing out a breath, he slid back, his smirk turning to a glare. His hard cock taunted him. “So every time that bitch near me, we goin’ through this?”
“No.”
“Would you fuckin’ answer me with more than one or two fuckin’ words like you was before?”
“Nope.”
“Jesus, Mary, and all that’s fuckin’ holy.”
“Christopher?” she said a moment later.
“What?” he snarled, angry with her spoiled behavior.
“Don’t beat up Cash. He didn’t make you get an erection over what Daphne said. And he didn’t force you to let Diesel go with her. And he didn’t stay at the park with our sons, instead of leaving with them when she arrived. So, unless, you want to punch your own face in, leave him alone.”
At the present rate, beating the fuck out of himself seemed like the perfect solution. Maybe, he’d knock himself the fuck out and escape her wrath.
One thing he was certain of: Cash didn’t make him do fuck all, but he’d been the one playing goddamn games.
Well, checkmate, fuckhead.
“When Outlaw kills you, don’t say I didn’t warn you, Cash,” Stretch hissed later that night, once Daphne had been dropped off at her house, Diesel returned to Outlaw and Stretch got his motorcycle back to have his own transportation. He’d followed Cash back to Portland, although he wasn’t sure why. The day had exhausted him and his entire body ached.
Now, they faced off in the privacy of Cash’s home.
Cash sat on the sofa in his living room, his unconcerned expression both alarming and infuriating, working his way through the six pack on the coffee table. “Outlaw isn’t going to kill me.” He drank his beer. “You take shit too seriously.”
“You don’t take shit seriously enough. How could you do what you did?”
If Stretch had known the extremity of Cash’s plan, he would’ve stayed at the club.
More beer. “Lighten up. It ended well enough.”
Stretch was at his wit’s end with Cash’s attitude. He didn’t seem concerned with repercussions. He sat with his gorgeous, massive chest out, in only a pair of boxer briefs, his cock nestled between his powerful thighs. “Your dick won’t last forever. When it gives out, you’ll be all alone. What then?”
A quick flash of misery flashed in Cash’s blue eyes. “I’m doing what I was taught to do with those girls. Review them. I wanted Outlaw to give the final exam.”
“Any excuse is better than none.”
Cash finished one beer, and lined the bottle up at the edge. He opened another, and drank deeply. “What the fuck’s your excuse for how you live? What you’re willing to let me do to you?”
Stretch drew in a sharp breath.
“Is it love? You love me more than you love yourself?” Cash laughed without humor. “Just like dicks don’t last, love rarely does.”
It had been a long time since Stretch had loved himself. Once, he’d pretended to be straight, when he’d first joined the Death Dwellers. He’d still been miserable, afraid Outlaw would find out and kill him or cast him out as his father had. He also hadn’t been fulfilled by sleeping with only women. It all combined to make him hate himself and the shame he felt. The shame he’d brought to his father. But Stretch could do nothing right. After patching in, he’d called his dad and explained his new lifestyle. It hadn’t helped. His father had still been upset.
“Get over it, Stretch. As a matter of fact, get over everything. You’re living in the goddamn past while life’s passing you by. You’re scarred? So what. You’re alive. Get fucking surgery. You’re in pain? Take Oxy. Wear your goddamn brace.”