Throttle's Seduction: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 7)
Page 9
“What the fuck, bro?” Rags said as he came over to his partner. “You’re gonna destroy the tank, and they’re fucking expensive to replace.”
Through his panting, Throttle said, “I don’t give a shit. We just got this fucker fixed a week ago and it’s leaking again. It got all over my shirt and jeans. I’m bathing in weed killer. Fuck!” The tank had dents all over it as Throttle continued to assault it.
When he was finished, he wiped his sweaty face and neck with his bandana, went over to the cooler in the bed of the truck, took out a gallon jug of water, and poured it over his head. Grabbing another jug, he chugged some of it down and poured the rest on him.
“You cooled off now?” Rags asked.
“Not really, but it felt good to beat the shit outta the metal fucker.”
Squinting, Rags leaned against the truck. “We gotta buy a new one since we’re down to one and we have the big job at the Landley Estate next week.”
“Then we’ll get another one. Quit acting like a whiny pussy about it.” He grabbed a bottle of iced tea from the cooler. “You want one?”
Rags shook his head. “You gonna tell me what the fuck’s going on with you?”
“I don’t like taking chemical baths. Nothing more.” His jaw hardened.
“You been ripping everyone’s head off for the last few days. You even got in a customer’s face yesterday when he told us we planted the tree in the wrong place.” Rags held up his hand as if to silence Throttle. “I know, he told us one place and he changed his mind, but the point is you’ve never flipped out on a customer like you did yesterday. Again, what the fuck’s with you?”
“It’s just been damn hot, and all these people are getting on my nerves big time. It’s nothing more.”
“Really, ‘cause I’ve never seen you like this. I’ve seen you pissed, but it’s usually been warranted. You’ve been a royal pain in the ass to be around.”
Throttle gave Rags a hard, cold stare. “Enough. I said nothing’s wrong, so leave it alone.”
Rags held his hands up in front of him. “All right, but if you don’t snap out of it, we’re gonna lose a couple of our good guys.”
Throttle grunted, then picked up the electric trimmer and turned it on. He wanted to drown out Rags because he was afraid he’d lose it and beat the shit out of his brother if he didn’t shut the hell up. Throttle knew he was starting fights with the brothers over nothing; Banger and Hawk had already talked to him about it, but he didn’t give a shit. Now his anger had spilled over to the workplace, and he was beyond pissed at himself for letting Kimber get to him. How dare she tell him she didn’t want seconds. That was his line. And why the hell didn’t she? Further, why the fuck did he want it again? The woman made him feel and want things that he’d sworn a long time ago he’d never go for again.
Kimber messed with his world and turned it upside down. Her pushing him away was supposed to be his part, and he was acting just like a fucking chick, moping about, wanting to see her again, and flying off the handle at anyone who looked at him. Damn. I don’t know why I even want to go near her pussy, but I do. It was probably nothing more than male pride. After all, she loved to argue with him, threw the women’s lib shit in his face all the time, and acted like she didn’t need a man to take care of her. But the sexy noises she made when I kissed and touched her turn me way the hell on. So she didn’t want anything with a man at the moment. So fine. If I find out she’s even looked at that cowboy, he’s getting my fist in his face.
All of a sudden it was quiet, and it confused him. Looking at the trimmer in his hands, he noticed the blades weren’t moving. Now this piece of shit is acting up too? Ready to throw it on the ground, he stopped when Rags pulled it from his hands. “You’ve trimmed the bush too much. It looks like shit, man.”
Throttle looked at the shrub whose fullness was cut away, making it look like a deflated balloon. Now I gotta buy another shrub to replace this. Shit, this woman is in my head too fuckin’ much.
“Why don’t you call it a day? Roy and I can finish up the work. Chill for a while. Tomorrow we got a busy day.”
He blew out a long breath as he nodded. He pulled off his gloves and stuffed them in his back pocket. “You gonna need the truck?”
“Nah. Roy has his.”
He turned around and walked to the truck, swinging into the driver’s seat and taking off. Rags was right; he did need to chill. He decided to go back to the club and get his bike. He needed a good, hard ride. Riding was the only thing that chased away the bitterness, the regret, and the recriminations.
* * *
Heat pricked at his skin like coiled barbed wire; it bounced off the road and caused an illusion of wavering images. On the side of the road, the trees stood mute in the summer air. Throttle had ridden over the small roads, climbing up to Jasper Peak to admire the endless wave of craggy mountaintops for miles. This was his favorite place, and he loved the way the sheer strength and beauty of the rock walls made everything seem small. When he looked out over the overlapping mountains, the limitless evergreens, and the quilt of summer colors on the grassy canyon below, he felt as though he were the only person on the planet. It was like this was the real world and nothing else mattered. For him, the mountain was where time stopped.
He’d thought for one bright, shining moment that he’d share his oasis with Kimber, but she’d quashed any chance of that. It was just as well. He hadn’t been thinking straight anyway, imagining bringing a woman with him. He didn’t really want that type of connection with her. It would mean something serious, and he had no intention in getting serious with any woman ever again.
He took one last look and made his way down the peak, heading into Pinewood Springs. Without thinking, he rode to his sister’s house, making sure he didn’t take the shortcut. He wanted to go past Kimber’s house just to see if a cherry-red pickup was in her driveway. As he came down the road before turning onto her street, he saw her living room lights on. He pictured her sitting on her couch, her lovely legs on the coffee table, her dark hair pulled up in a makeshift bun. He bet she was wearing shorts and a crop top, and her luscious lips would be shiny and so fucking kissable. He slowed down as he passed her bungalow; his desire to stop was intense, but his pride kept him away. A quarter of a mile down the street, he turned left and parked in front of Dawn’s house.
He rapped on the screen door. “Sis, the screen’s locked. Come open up.”
Dawn, a cigarette dangling from her mouth, unlatched the door. “I didn’t expect to see you. We’re still going to dinner next week, right?”
“Yeah. I was in the neighborhood. Is Olivia here?”
“No. She’s at camp, remember? You paid for it.”
“That’s right. I talked to her last night on the phone. I hope she has a good time.”
“She will. Ella and some of her other friends are there. It’s good for her ‘cause it gets boring around here.”
“I know. When she gets back, I’ll take her to Arrow Lake for the day. And the carnival is coming in town next month. We’ll all go to that. You got a beer?”
“Sure.” She walked over to the refrigerator. “Mariah called me this morning,” she said as she handed him a can.
He took a long pull. “So?”
She sat cross-legged on the other end of the couch. “So… she wants to get together with you and set things right. She feels awful about how things ended between the two of you.”
He grunted. “Yeah, I bet she does.”
“I think she’s found religion or something.” She giggled when Throttle gave her an incredulous look. “No, I’m serious. It’s like she needs your forgiveness. Like she wants to make amends.”
Throttle stared at the dark TV screen. Picking up the remote, he turned it on, flipping through the channels until he settled on a wrestling match.
“I think she’s sincere. So, what do you say? It could be good for you. I think you’ve been hanging on to all that bitterness for a long time.”
“Why are you so hard? I know she was a bitch to you at the end, but you were both young. She’s changed. I always thought you two were good together.”
“You getting me that beer?” His body tensed and he rubbed his thigh with his fist.
“Don’t go getting pissed at me. I’m just trying to help,” she said as she rose to bring him another can.
“I don’t remember asking you for any fuckin’ help. Leave this alone.” His voice had a steely edge.
“Okay, but you need a permanent woman in your life. Damnit, Throttle, you’re too old to still be living your lifestyle. Aren’t you tired of mindless sex with women who spread on command? Don’t you want a woman who loves only you and not all your club members? You’re going to want someone when you get old.”
“Stay the fuck out of my life. And since you’re so great at giving advice, what about you? Why don’t you find a nice man to take care of you? You only seem to fuck losers, and bringing in different men in front of Olivia pisses me off. It makes her think it’s okay to be a slut.” He finished his beer then crushed the can in his hand.
Dawn narrowed her eyes. “Don’t you talk to me that way. I’m a damn good mother, and I don’t bring a bunch of men over here. Pedro and I were together for over six months and I didn’t let him move in. You can be a real sonofabitch. You asshole!” She sniffled.
He stood up and threw the crushed can in the bin. “I didn’t come over for this shit. I’m outta here.” He marched out the door and went to his Harley, then stopped and looked back at the house. Why the hell did he have to go and say all that shit to Dawn? She didn’t deserve it; he thought she was an awesome mother and sister. I gotta fuck the pink-haired bitch outta my system.
He rubbed his chin, then trudged up the walk to the house. Looking through the screen door, he saw Dawn on the couch, blowing her nose. He opened the door slowly, his gaze catching hers when she looked up. “Forget the shit I said. I’m just having a real shitty day.”
She smiled. “Thanks for coming back and telling me that. I shouldn’t have prodded.”
“Yeah, so… We good here?”
“Yes.” She bobbed her head up and down as she wiped the corner of her eyes. “We’re just great.” She started to get up from the couch, but he stopped her with a wave of his hand. He didn’t go in for the hugging and sobbing shit women loved to do. “You still have to go?”
“Yeah. I got stuff to do. Just wanted to come by and see how you and Olivia were doing. I’ll call you about dinner next week. If you need something, let me know.” Then he walked down the porch stairs and climbed on his Harley.
Instead of going straight, he made a U-turn and went back the way he came, hoping Kimber would be outside watering her flowers. When she’d done that before, it led to the best fucking he’d ever had with a woman. She wasn’t outside when he passed her house; she was inside and he wished he were with her, snuggling her in his arms. He continued on his way to the club. He passed by Ruthie’s Diner and spotted Big Tits through the window, thinking maybe he should stop in and ask her to Arrow Lake. He knew she’d jump at the chance, but he drove by knowing that he didn’t want Big Tits or any other woman near his dick, except for Kimber.
Fuck. She’s taken hold of my cock.
She’s in my blood.
Aw, hell.
Chapter Twelve
He walked straight to the bar and slid on the barstool. Puck placed a shot of whiskey and a bottle of Coors in front of him. The club was busier than usual for a weeknight. Most of the brothers were there, and a large number of hoodrats cozied up to them. Against the back wall, he saw a long table set up with sandwiches, corn on the cob, potato salad, and ribs. Normally, food was set up when there was a big party on the weekend, a special occasion like one of the brother’s birthday or a bachelor party, or a family gathering. Maybe something was up that he forgot about. The smoky smell of barbecue made his stomach growl, and he pushed off his seat and moseyed over to the food. As he scooped a large helping of potato salad on his plate, Rock clapped him on the shoulder. “How’s it goin’?”
“Good. Why all the food and brothers?”
“It’s Rags’s birthday.”
“It is? Did we talk about this at church or something?”
“Yeah. It was a few days ago, when all you wanted to do was beat the shit outta anyone who looked at you.” He chuckled.
“I didn’t hear shit about it. I worked with him today, and he never mentioned it.”
“He’s only here for the pussy like most of the guys. He chose Brandi to do his lap dance. I was happy ‘bout that one. She’s fuckin’ hot.” Rock placed three sandwiches and a pile of ribs on his plate.
“She’s got big tits, that’s for sure.”
“And they’re fuckin’ real. I’d love to bury my face between them. Damn.”
“Are you ready to have an old lady?”
Rock looked at him in horror. “Watch your fuckin’ mouth,” he growled.
Throttle laughed. “Didn’t think so.”
“There’re plenty of chicks with big racks around here. There’s no way I’ll ever take an old lady. Fuck all these brothers settling down with one pussy. Not for me. I know you’re on the same page.” He took a bite out of his roast beef and cheddar sandwich.
“You’re damn right. There’s no way in hell I’m aiming to have any woman wear my patch.”
As was customary, whenever a brother had a birthday, the club threw a party and the recipient could pick any of the strippers from Dream House to give him a lap dance. The dancers at the Insurgents’ strip club were not treated the same way as the club girls or the hoodrats; they danced and nothing else. The Insurgents were strict about it, didn’t want the women to be public wells for the raunchy and wild parties at the clubhouse. Mixing business with pleasure never worked out. When big weekend parties were thrown, sometimes the dancers would be asked to entertain the local and out-of-state brothers. They’d perform and then be escorted out of the club right after. Every once in a while, a brother fell for a dancer, like Jax did for Cherri, and she’d become his old lady, but it wasn’t common.
“Did you ever fuck the big-titted waitress at Ruthie’s? Rags said you had a date with her a while back.”
“Nah. I was planning to, but something came up.” Like Kimber.
“You gonna try again?”
He shrugged. “Not too sure. You want some of her? She’s hot for biker cock. I can give you her number.”
“Rags said he’d been sniffing around her for some time, but she didn’t pay any attention to him. I don’t like working for a woman. If she’s not easy, I move to the next.”
“I’m with you.” Then why don’t I forget about Kimber and move on? She’s more than difficult. “I don’t think you’ll have any problems with her. Rags is too skinny. She likes broad, muscular bikers. You’ll do fine.”
“Yeah?” Rock shoved a forkful of potato salad in his mouth as he and Throttle walked back to the bar. “Text me her number. I want some new pussy.”
Throttle chuckled and began shoveling in his food. For the next hour, members came up to him and Rock, joking and talking with them. Soon a pretty, stacked blonde approached Rock. She curled her fingers around his bulging bicep. “Wow, my two hands can barely wrap around your strong muscles,” she cooed.
Throttle smirked as he watched Rock’s eyes light up when he caught sight of her generous cleavage. Like him, Rock was a tit man—the bigger, the better—so it still surprised the hell out of him that he was crazy for Kimber. With her it was more than her tit size; it was the who
le damn thing.
“My friend and I were talking about something real important,” Rock said, winking at Throttle.
The blonde turned and looked at Throttle for the first time, a smile spreading over her lips. “Wow, you’re good-looking. Maybe you want to have some fun with me too?” Her hopeful eyes fixed on his crotch.
“Sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” Rock said as he scooped the woman up and planted her on his lap.
“Could be, but I’m not feelin’ it. Sorry, sweetheart.” He swiveled around on his stool and scanned the crowd. There were a lot of hot-looking women, and he knew he could fuck any one of them. Somehow knowing that made it less appealing. He wanted a challenge, and Kimber was that and more. The only woman he wanted to be inside was the one who said no. How fucked up was that?
He wrapped his fingers around the amber beer bottle and took a drink. From the corner of the room, he sensed someone watching him. He glanced over and his eyes locked with a woman who had dark eyes and hair. For a split second, he thought it was Mariah, but she only looked like her when she’d been young. When she and Throttle had been together.
As he stared, the image of Mariah, her long, dark hair flowing around her, clouded his vision, and he was twenty-two again and in love with her. He’d met her at one of the parties the club had when he’d been prospecting, almost ready to be patched in. She had large hazel eyes, and a smattering of freckles on her nose. She’d hated her freckles but he’d loved them, kissing them whenever they’d been together.
From the moment they’d met, he’d let her into his heart. She’d seemed to have been what he was missing since his mom had died a few years earlier from a brain aneurysm. She’d just stopped talking, her face had contorted, and she’d dropped dead, right in front of him and his sister. It’d been the biggest shock he’d ever had, and he’d been lost. He and his mom had been real close; she’d always been there for him, so when she’d left him, his universe was off-kilter. It’d stayed that way until he’d met Mariah.