The Outlaw's Obsession(8)

“Here you go, Prez.” Darren “Squeaks” Boon slid a shot of whisky and bottle of beer his way. Jagger threw the whisky back, loved the fucking burn as it went down his throat, and grabbed his beer to chase it down.

“Hey, big boy,” DeDe said and sidled up beside him in nothing but a string bikini top and a pair of cut-off shorts that damn near rode up her cunt. “You want to play in the back?”

He tipped his beer back, looked over at DeDe and eyed her up and down. She would let him do whatever in the hell he wanted to do to her. It was one of the reasons he mainly fucked her, but right now he wasn’t feeling up to it.

“Nah. Go spend some time with the other guys.”

She stared at him, and the scent of her surprise filled his nose. Club pussy liked to fuck, didn’t care who it was with, and did it because their end goal was all the same: becoming an old lady. They services the club members in any way they saw fit, helped relax his boys so they weren’t so strung up, and were crucial to the way the club ran.

“Go on.” He tilted his bottle toward the other members.

She made her way toward them, and he knew why she was surprised by him turning her down. There weren’t many times Jagger passed on pussy, but for some damn fucked-up reason he just was sick of all this shit. Not the club life, but the constant random hook-ups. God, now he was sounding like a fucking wimp for thinking about claiming a female for his own. But it wasn’t like this was the first time he had thought that. Jagger had those thoughts cross his mind before, but had pushed them so far down inside of him that it was hard to find them once again. But the little bastard had found its way to the surface, and here he was now, thinking of having a female of worth by his side, like that was really what he needed in his life. Jagger could even imagine having her ride on the back of his bike, and being able to call her his. But decent females didn’t want an outlaw biker, not with his past, the violence that surrounded the club, the way they lived their life, and the things that they were balls deep in on a daily basis. It would take one strong ass female to put up with that shit, and Jagger didn’t know if he would ever find one. He finished his beer, stood, and headed to his room. He just wanted to crash, because the way he was feeling wouldn’t do anything but make everyone twitchy as fuck.





Chapter Three



Although Sonya wasn’t privy to club business, and didn’t have the senses like a shifter did since she was a human, she still knew something was up by the tension that was in the air. It felt so thick she could have suffocated on it. She stayed out of the way as MC members moved around the clubhouse like shit was about to go down. Most of the time she hid in her room, not wanting to get involved in any of this crap, but she was almost afraid to move and draw attention to herself since she was on the other side of the room. For whatever reason, everyone seemed on edge to the nth degree. Sonya wrapped her arms around herself and pressed her back further against the wall when the Wolverine club members started getting their guns out and checking their bullets.

“How long are they out?” The VP called to Trick who was in the backroom. Trick came out, and her skin tightened instantly.

“They are thirty minutes away. This should be easy enough, but with the shit that went down the last time we were in Grizzly MC presence, I’m not about to take any chances. Who knows if that Brick fucker will go off the deep end?”

“But it’s been years. Why in the hell would he still be holding a grudge?” A new patched in member asked.

Trick snapped his head in the other male’s direction and snarled. “Because his face is all jacked up and we killed a shitload of their guys, you dumb motherfucker.”

“Jagger said shit was cool, though.”

Trick gave his VP a scathing look. “I don’t give a fuck what Jagger said. The Grizzly MC has a pretty heinous fucking background, too, and I wouldn’t put anything past them. But to be honest, I’m hoping one of them starts some shit. I’ve been raring to go another round with that Brick fucker and finish what was started.” Trick cocked his gun and tucked it at the small of his back. He inhaled deeply and zeroed in on where Sonya stood. Trick was scary as hell, the way he ran his MC was even scarier, and she was right in the middle of both of them. “Get your ass over here, Sonya.”

She swallowed and moved away from the wall, but pulled on her inner strength to get her through. When she stood in front of Trick, all she could see was the cold, hard look of the devil staring right back at her.

He reached around and gripped her hair, yanking her head back so her neck was bared. “Who do you belong to, female?” She hated when he did this, made her feel like she was degrading herself by telling him something that was far from the truth. But he felt like he had some kind of ownership on her, like she was nothing more than a piece of his property that he could use and abuse whenever he felt like it. But she had learned to go along with what he said, and then at least he wasn’t as abusive toward her. It wasn’t the coward’s way out, but the survivor’s way. But even then her behavior wasn’t enough to stop him. He tightened his hold on her hair, and a sting of pain speared right through her head. “Don’t make me repeat myself, Sonya. You know what happens when people don’t do what I say.” He didn’t phrase it like a question. Yeah, she knew personally what happened.