Ryder looked at me for a quick second, before reaching over and grabbing his phone from the nightstand. He punched the screen a few times and held the phone to his ear.
“Hey, Riot, I need you to book twenty rooms at a nice hotel in Portland. For a week.”
He listened for a second and smiled.
“We aren’t going anywhere. All of you are.”
He smiled over at me and my eyes widened in surprise.
“Yep, every single one of you. Beginning tonight,” he continued. “Tell everyone to get packed and head out. Grace and I need a little time alone. And make sure it’s a nice hotel, I don’t want to hear anyone bitching. I don’t care how much it costs. You can come back next week, enjoy a little vacation time on us. Thanks, brother. Love you.”
He hung up the phone with a proud smirk on his face.
“You’re amazing,” I said, brushing my lips against his.
“You’re welcome.”
I laughed and shook my head.
“God, I love you,” I whispered, watching him plant a kiss on Sadie’s forehead.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
BULLET
Being the unending patient lover was growing more difficult by the day. I tried to pass the hours by staying busy — working on my bike, going on hikes, spending time in the woods, but dammit, I couldn’t step one foot in those woods now without thinking of Libby.
My mind was consumed by her, and my body was pretty pissed at me at this point for ignoring it’s constant, raging desire for her. I couldn’t give it what it needed and my own hand was a woeful substitute.
I was like a walking, talking, well of emptiness.
I subsisted solely on the texts we exchanged.
I know, I know, we’ve only been away from each other for a short while, but with each hour that passes it becomes that much more excruciating.
Is this what love feels like?
Love wasn’t an emotion I was too familiar with. Oh, I’d had girlfriends here and there, but once things turned serious, I usually bolted pretty fast. It was too hard to get close to people. If I got close to someone, I’d have to talk. I’d have to talk about a bunch of shit I really didn’t want to talk about.
It was easy to hang out with a bunch of dudes who also weren’t so keen on talking about their feelings. That way, I could push all that shit away and just move on.
But once you brought a woman into the equation, somehow that shit always comes up. They always want to know why you are the way you are, and the reasons that I am the way I am are not something I really wanna explore while I’m nine inches deep inside of someone, you know?
Shit gets complicated.
Somehow, all of that doesn’t apply with Libby.
Libby doesn’t ask questions. She doesn’t pry. She doesn’t even seem like she’s trying to ‘figure me out’. She just lets me be. Hell, she thought we were so different before, and what did she do? Did she try to change me?
No, she walked away.
I mean, shit. I gotta respect that, you know?
She’s wrong, of course. I mean, it’s true that neither one of us needs to change, but I’m confident we can fit into each other’s lives and I intend to show her that.
So, when Riot announces we’re all headed to Portland for the week, I’m as happy as a kid in a candy store.
I immediately called Libby, unable to suppress my happiness.
“A week?” she asked. I could hear her smile through the phone.
“Yeah,” I said. “I know you have your life, though. I know you’re busy. I don’t expect to spend every moment together, so don’t worry. But hopefully, you can spare a few hours.”
She giggled and I couldn’t help but smile.
“I think I can spare a few minutes, at least,” she teased.
I laughed, my laughter echoing through the cabin.
“I miss you so much, a few minutes will probably be all it’ll take,” I said. “At least the first time.”
She laughed again and I reached down, gripping my twitching cock.
“I’ve gotta pack. I’ll text you once I get checked in this afternoon,” I said, practically growling with lust.
“I’ll see you soon,” she whispered, before hanging up.
“Goddamn,” I grumbled, throwing the phone on the bed.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
LIBBY
“All of them?” Julia said, her eyes wide with joy. I swear, her nipples popped up in attention when I told her the Gods were going to be in town for a week.
“Apparently. Well, except for Grace and Ryder.”
“What hotel?” she said, grabbing her phone. “I need to clear my schedule.”
“What does this have to do with you?” I said, laughing.
“Are you kidding?” she asked. “I only had sex with three of them.”
“What! Three!” I cried.
“What? I never got a full count on them either. They just kept crawling out of the woodwork, swirling around like some sort of psychedelic leather parade. Do you know how many of them there are? I might need to partner them up to get through them all.”
“Oh, my god, Julia, you are not fucking every one of the Gods!”
“Well, not all of them, no. I mean, geez, the ones that are all partnered up are off limits, obviously. God, they’re all so devoted, aren’t they? Have you seen the way Riot looks at Lacey? Or the way Wreck makes sure Frankie always has what she needs? It’s enough to make you sick, really.”
“It’s sweet,” I replied. She was right. The Gods were wild, but once they fell in love, they were all in, it was obvious. As for the others, well, they seemed to know how to have a good time, apparently.
They’d certainly put a smile on my best friend’s face.
“It is,” she said. “So, let’s see, how many does that leave?”
“Well,” I replied, doing the math. “There’s Ryder, Riot, Slade, Wreck, Bones, Eli, Nate, Fury and Ziggy, but they all have partners. Who does that leave? Colt, Vick, Storm, Wolfe, Blade, Striker and Shadow.”
“You forgot Bullet.”
“You’re not fucking Bullet, Julia!”
“I wasn’t saying that, I was just helping you with your list!” she insisted. “Jeez, you’ve claimed him completely now, have you?”
I rolled my eyes.
“No,” I shook my head. “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know!”
She laughed.
“Okay, so Colt, Vick, Storm, Wolfe, Blade, Striker and Shadow are all up for grabs,” she said. “That’s one for every night for a week. I’ve already fucked Colt, Wolfe and Striker, but I don’t mind fucking them again.”
“Jesus, Julia,” I said, shaking my head.
“Tell me something, Libby,” she said. “Would you rather me go and have a great time this week, taking advantage of a once in a lifetime opportunity, or would you rather hear me bitching about how I listened to you and it was the biggest regret of my life. Seriously, do you want to hear about this when we’re seventy and sipping tea on a porch swing somewhere?”
“I have a feeling I’m going to be hearing about it whether you do it or not.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right. So, when are you seeing Bullet?”
“I don’t know. Tonight maybe.”
“If I were you, I’d be jumping on that train as soon as it arrived to the station.”
“He’s a man, Julia, not a locomotive.”
“Don’t mean it’s any less of a ride!”
“Do you ever think of anything besides sex?”
She paused, staring up at the air.
“Let me get back to you on that,” she said. “I need to cancel all my other dates and make an appointment with my waxer.”
She ran into her room and left me with an unfortunately overactive imagination that decided to torture me with scenes of Julia fucking all the Gods. She was exactly the opposite of me, but boy, did I love her.
The irony of me thinking Bullet was wrong for me because he w
as also the exact opposite of me was not lost as I went to my room to take a nap.
I had a long night ahead of me, I suspected.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
BULLET
I looked in my closet with dismay, feeling like a bad caricature of a woman demanding she had nothing to wear.
Only, for me, it was true.
Jeans, t-shirts and my cut and black leather boots. It was basically my uniform and I didn’t have much of a need to stray too far from it. Every now and then, I’d throw on a leather jacket or a long sleeve sweatshirt.
“This is pathetic,” I said, closing the closet door. I made my way over to Riot’s cabin and stated my case.
“I want to take Libby somewhere nice,” I said.
“I got you, man,” he said. “Come with me.”
He led me to a small storage room and turned on the light. It was filled with all kinds of stuff. Wigs lined the shelves and racks of clothing were pushed up against the wall, with a huge variety of shoes stacked on the floor.
“What’s all this?”
“Just a bunch of stuff we’ve collected over the years. Sometimes, we need a disguise. Sometimes, we need to dress up.”
He pointed to a rack of tuxedos in the corner.
“How fancy do you want to get?”
“Wow, good question,” I said.
“Well, where are you taking her?”
“Shit, I don’t know, dinner, I guess.”
“No, man. That’s so basic. I mean, yeah, dinner’s great, as long as it’s somewhere nice, but you gotta go farther than that. What does she like?”
I thought about it for a minute.
“Art, I guess.”
“Well, there you go! Take her to the art museum. The museum in Portland is amazing. She’ll love it there and you’ll get serious points. Maybe they have some night exhibits you can go to. Sometimes, they have fancy parties there and stuff. Just check out their website.”
“That’s actually a really great idea, Riot, thank you.”
“Sure, man. So, tuxedo?”
I hesitated. “That might be a little extreme. How about a nice suit?”
“Good call,” he nodded, patting me on the back. “Grab whatever you want. I need to get Lacey moving before she packs up her entire closet and I gotta lug that shit up to the hotel room.”
I laughed and nodded, thanking him again, before he left me alone in the room.
After a few minutes, I left with my arms piled high with a bunch of fancy clothes that I hoped like hell impressed Libby.
CHAPTER FORTY
LIBBY
When Bullet called me and told me to get dressed up for our date, I didn’t know what to expect. He didn’t exactly seem like the dressing up type.
I was well aware that ‘dressing up’ consisted of many different levels. He refused to tell me where we were going, so I played it safe and put on a little black dress, black heels and some nice jewelry, sweeping my hair up in a loose twist and taking a little extra care with my make-up.
My stomach was doing flips while I waited.
When I opened the door to find him decked out in a fancy tailored black suit, shiny black shoes, and a deep blue tie that matched his eyes, his hair slicked back away from his handsome face, I almost fainted.
“I’m sorry, do I know you? I was waiting for my date?” I asked, heat rushing to my cheeks.
“I take it you approve?” he asked, flashing me a smile that threatened to do me in completely.
“You look incredible,” I said. The suit was tight. So tight it hugged his broad shoulders, and left absolutely no room for imagination when my eyes trailed down and landed on the bulge between his legs. “I love it,” I purred. “Although, I didn’t mind the old you, either.”
“Don’t worry, that guy will be back tomorrow,” he winked, before growing serious. “You look so beautiful, Libby.”
“Thank you,” I blushed. “Sure you don’t want to tell me where we’re going? Seeing you like that is making me second guess this outfit.”
“Don’t you dare change! You’re perfect,” he said, pulling me into his arms and kissing me. I melted into him, his touch warm and familiar and so needed. I moaned into his mouth, pressing my body into his, our kiss deepening for just a moment, before he pulled back.
“I missed you,” he said, smiling down at me.
“I missed you, too,” I said, pressing my hips into his growing erection.
“I have plans to re-introduce myself to your gorgeous body,” he growled, “but first, we have some places to go.”
“Trust me, my body remembers yours very well,” I laughed. “No re-familiarization necessary. I don’t think it’ll ever forget, in fact.”
“Excellent,” he said. “My job is done.”
“I hope not,” I teased.
He kissed me again, firm and hard, before pulling back.
“I’ll never be done with you,” he said.
I took a deep breath, my stomach full of butterflies.
“You sure know how to say hello,” I said. “Let me get my purse.”
I turned away from him, walking to the couch and picking up my handbag. He whistled as I leaned down and I turned, throwing him a smile over my shoulder.
“Catcalling?” I asked.
He nodded, raising an eyebrow.
“Your rough biker side is showing,” I teased.
“You can take a biker out of his cut, but you can’t keep him from appreciating a spectacular ass.”
I burst out laughing.
“Let’s go,” I said, locking up. “I can’t wait to see where we’re going.”
We strolled down my sidewalk towards his bike.
“Shit,” I said, stopping. “I forgot about the bike. My skirt is really short.”
“That was my plan all along,” he laughed, handing me a helmet.
“Oh, the perils of dating a biker,” I said, trying not to ruin my twist as I gently placed the helmet over my head. Bullet jumped on the bike and started it up with a roar, shooting me an expectant look.
“Oh, fine,” I said, hitching up my skirt and throwing a leg over the seat behind him. I wrapped my arms around him and couldn’t help but smile. The vibrations of the bike were intense, with nothing but a small wisp of the cotton thong I was wearing between the seat and my vulva.
Bullet nodded approvingly, reached back and firmly squeezed my exposed thigh before driving away.
We roared off into the night, my life entirely in his hands.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
MONA
So, there’s Bullet.
Libby hadn’t seen him since I’d started following her again. I was wondering if she’d rejected him, but by the size of that grin on her face as she climbed onto his bike, she was doing just the opposite.
I didn’t like it.
She deserved someone better than that.
I mean, sure, I wanted her to be happy and she definitely looked happy. But as my Ma always told me, it’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor man.
Or, no man at all.
That’s basically what I’d chosen, and I was fine with it.
But I did want love for Libby, not just money. I just wanted to see her end up with someone different than that gruffy biker.
I’d love to see her with someone like a pediatrician, or an immigration lawyer, someone with a kind heart like hers. Someone a little more refined than Bullet, you know?
Although, he was obviously into her. My God, I could tell that by his behavior back at my cabin. I felt a little guilty about that now. I mean, at the time, I didn’t know Libby was my daughter. Fuck, it’s all creepy now, honestly.
Maybe that’s another reason I don’t want her to be with him.
He’s just a reminder of what I did to her.
And besides, when she and I make up and start being in each other’s lives, I don’t want to have to face him, considering what I did to him and Slade.
It’s a lit
tle embarrassing.
Just a little, though, and only because of Libby’s involvement. If that weren’t the case, I’d just give him a big middle finger and move on with my life.
But I can’t. Too much is still left unresolved.
So, here I am, following them through the dreadful Portland traffic and watching Bullet’s hand reach back and rub Libby’s thigh at every single stop light. It’s excruciating.
I comfort myself by sipping on my water bottle — full of Maker’s Mark whiskey tonight — and imagine running Bullet over with my car.
I mean, how easy it is to get rid of problems sometimes, you know? The solutions are extreme, sure, but it sure would be easy. Just a bit of gentle pressure on a gas pedal and voilá! No more Bullet!
Of course, I’d never do that with Libby on the back.
I’m not a monster.
I laugh out loud when Bullet pulls his bike up in front of Le Pigeon, one of the most bougie places in Portland to dine. I grab a parking spot across Burnside to get a good view, and settle in for what I know will be a long dinner. Luckily for me, they’re seated at a table by the window so I have a clear shot of Libby’s face.
She’s so beautiful. Smiling, happy, relaxed.
Maybe I didn’t fuck her up too badly, I think, as I sip my whiskey.
As they peruse the menu, I see them whispering to each other and giggling. Bullet, surprisingly, looks half-way comfortable in his monkey suit, seemingly unfazed by his fancy surroundings. Libby looks excited. I wonder if she’s ever been there before and if so, when and with whom.
I’ve missed so much of her life.
There’s so much I don’t know.
We have a lot of catching up to do. I can’t wait to get started. In fact, I’m getting a bit anxious about it all. I was never a patient person, not at all. My original plan was to give her plenty of time, to give her time for her feelings to settle, for her to recover from everything, before I tried to contact her again.
But each day that passes is harder and harder.
I yearn to see her smile at me. To see those big hazel eyes, so much like my own, reflecting love and kindness back to me. She’s never looked at me like that, not once.
GODS & ANGELS: GODS OF CHAOS MC: BOOK ELEVEN Page 9