Slide: Rugged Skulls MC

by Amy Davies

  I walk back through my house and out to my garden to collect my Kindle, so I can lose myself in romance books that are light, fluffy, and filled with lots of hot sex. But first, I need to finish Wasp’s book because that man is everything.

  A banging startles me. Shit, I must have fallen asleep. How long have I been sleeping? I look at the digital numbers on my Kindle and see that I’ve been out of it for two hours. Shit. Long night for me then. The last thing I remember is reading about a single dad cowboy. Swoon.

  I place my phone and Kindle on the table then walk through the house to the front door. The knocking continues. Huffing, I grip the handle and pull it open.

  My heart stutters when I see that it’s Slide on the other side. My nose burns again at the sight of him, but I know that I need to pull my big girl panties on and face him.

  “What do you want, Slide?” I ask in a flat tone, and fold my arms across my chest.

  I watch as his eyes stay focused on my face, which surprises me, because Slide loves my chest.

  “From the anger pouring off you and the icy stare you’re throwing my way already, you saw the post. I’ve deleted it. Will you let me come in and explain?”

  “All you seem to be doing, Slide, is finding yourself in these compromising situations with all these women, and then explaining. To be honest, I’m getting fed up with it. Fool me twice,” I state, and go to step back and close the door, but his hand shoots out, stopping me.

  He doesn’t wait for me to say anything. He brushes past me into my living area and takes a seat on the floral chair. I sigh and close the door before following him, but I keep my distance.

  I stand, folding my arms, waiting for him to speak. He bites his lip and sighs, adjusting himself in the seat. His gaze locks on my mine, and I feel the intense feeling that passes between us, but I hold firm.

  The thing with Slide is that he’s very good looking, and he knows it, but for me that adds to his appeal. He’s cocky, confident, but not in a bad way. It’s sexy.

  But unfortunately, men like that think they can get away with so much, and I hate to have to lump Slide into the same category, but the evidence clearly proves he belongs there. I have seen way too many friends hurt by men who think they are God’s gift to women and that they should be happy they are with them.

  Fucking idiots.

  “Say what you have to say and then leave, Slide. I’ve told you before that I don’t want any drama in mine or Posey’s lives. We want simple and happy.”

  “I’m not the one causing drama, babe. I didn’t post that photo, but the person responsible for it has been fired. She broke into my office and posted it on my account while I was with Rookie sorting out the stock delivery,” he explains, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, keeping his eyes locked on me.

  I shake my head at the fact that he completely missed the point.

  “So, she got fired for posting the photo on your account?”

  “Yeah,” is his reply.

  “Wow. Okay, so it was okay for her to take a photo of her kissing you, but because she posted it and it got made public, you fired her,” I say in disbelief.

  Shaking my head at him, I move toward the door and go to pull it open, but he comes up behind me, placing his hand on the door above my head. His other hand joins the hand on the door, and suddenly he has me caged in.

  “That is not what I said, and you know it,” he says close to my ear, making my body shiver. “No matter how pissed at me you are, you still want me; my touch, my mouth, hands and cock.”

  Using my ass, I push back against him, and he chuckles, but that soon stops when I spin around in my new space and he sees my face, sees how angry I am. I bring my hands up to his chest and push against him, and this time, he steps away, giving me more room to fume at him.

  “I am beyond pissed at you, Ryan. Beyond pissed. The fact that you stand there and say that you fired a woman for posting a photo of you but haven’t touched the subject that you let a woman take a photo of her kissing you, a man who was not single… I understand the people you work with; I have my insecurities, but they are mine, and I wouldn’t let that interfere in my relationship.”

  “’Was not single’? So, are you saying that I am single now? That you’re done with me over a fucking photo,” he says, angry now.

  I shrug and step away from him again, taking a deep breath. He needs to be told how much seeing that photo hurt me. Walking into my kitchen, I open the fridge and pull out a bottle of water, opening it and taking a sip to wet my lips and throat.

  “I’m not sure I can keep being put in these situations, Slide. What would I tell Posey if she saw the photo? She would want to know why her mom’s boyfriend is kissing another woman.”

  “I wasn’t kissing her; she kissed me, and I pushed her off. For fuck’s sake, Farrah, this isn’t my fault. I was pissed that she took the photo, but what I didn’t know was that she took it on my phone. I kicked her out of my office and went to help Rook. I left my phone in my locked office. Locked. She broke in and posted the photo.”

  He huffs and leans against the counter opposite me, crossing his ankles. I don’t miss the way his jeans mold to his thighs, or how the sleeves on his t-shirt stretch to capacity from his muscles bunching as he folds his arms.

  “So, I’m supposed to sit around and wait, just watch women throw themselves at you? I know you weren’t a saint when we met, Slide—hell, enough people told me that you liked sex and you weren’t afraid to talk about it, hence the stupid chat group that you guys use.”

  “Everything posted in that group was consented to, and I will not fight with you on that. I have never posted a photo of you in there, and I never will. I have also never posted a photo of a woman who didn’t want it posted on there,” he explains, and I don’t miss the anger in his voice.

  “Honestly, I don’t care about the group chat. What I care about is the fact that you allowed a woman to kiss you and take a photo. You say that you didn’t know she posted it, and I believe that, but you still allowed her to kiss you. I can tell you right now, Slide, that if a guy tried to kiss me, he would be on the receiving end of a throat punch,” I spit out, once again walking over to the front door.

  “You want me to hit a woman? Wow, Farrah, and here I thought that you would be against men hitting women. I guess I was wrong about you,” he says from behind me.

  “Now you know I didn’t say that,” I spit his words back at him. Clearly, we aren’t getting anywhere with this argument. “You could have removed her from you, stepped away.”

  We are both angry and breathing heavily as Slide steps up to the open door. He brings his gaze to mine, and his anger and despair mirror mine.

  “I’m going to go before we both say shit that we will regret. Just remember, we are far from fucking over.” With that, he storms out of my house with heavy steps that carry him to his bike. I stand there, not sure what to do or say as he straddles his bike and kicks it alive. He gives me one long look, then rides away.

  I stand there for I don’t know how long, staring at the point I last saw his taillights, thinking about his last words: ‘Just remember, we are far from fucking over.’ I know he means those words. Slide has never given up on anything in his life. He told me that he’s too stubborn and selfish to quit anything.

  A car horn startles me, making me jump. I sigh and take one last look before stepping back into my house, closing and locking the door behind me. Since Posey is now staying with Chris again tonight, I can wallow in my misery of possibly losing Slide.

  With a glass of my virgin cocktail in hand and my Kindle open, I’m going to relax and enjoy my night, losing myself in book after book until my eyes can’t read anymore.

  Twenty

  Slide

  Gunning the throttle, I race down the road toward the Tower. I need alcohol, lots and lots of fucking alcohol. The way things just went to shit with Farrah plays over and over in my head as I head to my destination.

  Why the
fuck does she have to be so stubborn? Fuck, I explained what the hell happened with Eva. It isn’t my fault the bitch posted the photo. Arriving at the club, Joel opens the gate when he sees me, and I give him a chin lift in thanks before parking my bike in my space.

  I climb off and head inside, getting out of the Florida heat, pulling off my leather jacket as I go. I drop it down on the bar, signaling to Abe to bring me a drink. He drops a beer in front of me.

  “And the whiskey,” I inform him.

  “Whiskey? What happened to you and the vodka?” Opal says, as he sits next to me. Looking at him over my hunched shoulders, I see recognition set in his eyes.

  “Ahh, woman shit, yeah?.” I nod and take a long pull of the fiery brown liquid. “They will be the death of us, brother, but fuck, what a way to go,” he tells me, smiling proudly at the fact that he has an amazing woman at his side.

  Hell, I did, until she decided to end things—not that I’m going to let that shit fly. I’ll give her time to cool off, then I’ll make sure she knows that she’s the only one for me, that she will never get rid of me. How will I do that? I will fuck her into submission. Easy.

  “What did you do?” Opal asks, taking his beer and my bottle of whiskey over to the couch, nodding for me to follow. I slouch down in the chair, taking the bottle off him and bringing it to my lips to down more. The burn is lesser than before, but fuck if it still doesn’t light a fire in my belly.

  “One of the girls from the studio took a selfie with me. I thought she took it on her phone, but she took it on mine, then broke into the office and posted it on my Instagram account. So, I fired her for the image and breaking into my office,” I tell him, as the boys join us. Magnum, Sarge, Rookie and Slade. Then Jase walks over, taking his seat next to Slade. They kiss hello, and my gut tightens. I want what they have. The love they have for each other and Ida is fucking crazy intense—hell, it is with Magnum and Risky, and Opal and Jodie.

  “So, you fired her because she broke in and posted the image?” Magnum inquires, and I nod.

  “But you didn’t stop her from taking the photo with you in the first place, knowing that you have an old lady?” Slade pipes in. I shake my head.

  “Are you guys on my side or what?”

  “Nope. You fucked up, bro,” Rookie adds, so I flip him off.

  “Rookie is right. You have always been the wild one, Slide, fucking anything with a pussy and a pair of tits. You started Snatch-Chat for bragging rights. Yeah, it was good for a time, but now that time is up. Even with Rookie, Sarge and the prospects still single, no fucker is posting in there.

  “I got no need to. I’m waiting for my old lady to come home,” Edge adds, as he walks over to us.

  “Where’s Drix?” Jase asks.

  “With Risky. She wants baby time. I think you need to knock her up quick, brother.” He winks at Magnum, who just gives him a mischievous smile.

  “I’m trying, brother. Lots of fucking trying,” Magnum replies, before taking the bottle off me and drinking some, then passing it back.

  “So, anyway, back to you and the fuck up with Farrah,” Opal chimes back in. “Did you apologize for the selfie?”

  “No. To be honest, we were both on the defensive. Her because this is the second time shit got messed up again. And me because she didn’t really want me to explain again. She said that I shouldn’t be allowing myself to get into these situations that I have to explain myself out of. It pissed me off. Neither time was my fault,” I whine, and swallow my whiskey.

  “The Nadia thing, yes, I agree that wasn’t your fault, but the thing over at the studio, Slide, you have to take partial responsibility for that one. You know how catty and sly these porn stars are. You should have never let her take the photo in the first place. You’re an old man now, brother,” Opal points out.

  His words settle in my foggy brain, the alcohol taking the desired effect. I shake my head to try and clear my thoughts, but it doesn’t work. Shit.

  Fuck it, might as well get smashed and sleep the rest of this shitty day away and start fresh tomorrow.

  “How pissed was she?” Slade asks, as he rests his hand on Jase’s thigh. I love how they aren’t afraid to hide who they are.

  “Let’s just say that she was talking like she had already broken up with me. Fuck, I sound like a fucking teenager right now. She was pissed because Posey is a factor as well.”

  “She is right though, man. That baby is a big factor. You’re not only going to lose Farrah but Posey too,” Sarge speaks for the first time. I know he has a soft spot for Posey. The big, broody bastard does have a soft side. Who would have thunk it?

  MAGNUM

  This fucking asshole is three sheets to the wind, but I have to say, me and the boys are having a blast winding him up. He’s fucked up over possibly losing his old lady, barely before they’ve even started. Risky would have cut my balls off and fed them to me if it had been me in that photo.

  Slide finishes off the whiskey, dropping the bottle on the floor beside him.

  “Bring me more, bitch,” he slurs at the prospect, Joel. The prospect looks at me, but I shake my head, deciding to cut off Slide and his binge drinking tonight.

  “I think you’re done for the night, brother,” I tell him. He tries to sit up straight but fails miserably, almost falling over the side of the chair.

  “Nah, Mag, I’m good. I mean, look at me, I can see all twenty of you.” He waves his hand at us with a drunken smile on his face.

  Clearly, he’s smashed. There’s only four of us here: Opal, Rookie, Sarge and me. Edge left to take Drix home, while Slade took Jase to his room because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. I have no doubt they will Facetime with Ida, who’s taking care of her mother tonight.

  “Where the hell did you go to school, brother? There are only five of us here, including you,” Rookie pipes in, laughing, before draining the rest of his beer.

  “Fuck off, you sexy bastard Irish fuck,” Slide slurs, and we all burst out laughing at him. It’s very rare that Slide drinks enough to kick his ass.

  Yeah, he may be the joker and the biggest slut of the club, but he’s as loyal as they come and takes his seat in the club as seriously as the rest of us. At Opal and Jodie’s wedding, when he called dibs, I swear every brother choked on their drinks, because Slide has never talked about settling down. Ever. Yeah, he believes if it happens it happens, but he doesn’t look for it. Until Farrah.

  “Aww, you think I’m sexy, Slide,” Rookie coos, and Slide flips him off, or should I say attempts to flip him off. He can’t actually decide which is the right finger to do so.

  “Fluck off, you,” he says, not quiet getting the right words out.

  “You’re not my type, brother. My old lady is at home right now, ripe and ready for me to fuck her, yet here I am with you, numb-nuts, making sure you don’t do anything fucking stupid like you did today.”

  “Oh fuck, Prez. I flucked up. She doesn’t want my sexy ass now. Farrah will Farrah-away from me forever,” Slide groans.

  “She’ll forgive you, brother. They all do. Just flash her a Ryan Stern smile and she’ll be putty in your hands,” Opal tells him with a smile.

  “No one can refuse the Slide for long, man. You know that,” Rookie adds, tipping his beer bottle in Slide’s direction.

  Slide huffs and reaches for the bottle of vodka on the table in front of us, but Sarge beats him to it, shaking his head.

  “Enough for you, fuckface. Your liver will thank me in the morning,” he says, and takes a large swig of the clear liquid, not even pulling a face at the taste. Sarge likes his liquor, and he can hold a fucking ton of it. As my old man used to say, he can drink us all under the table.

  “I won’t be thanking anyone in the morning. I’m planning on blocking all yous fuckers out for not being my boys and sliding up with me,” Slide manages to say, not fully making sense.

  “I wanna fuck,” he suddenly says, going to unzip his jeans.

  A round o
f ‘whoa’ and ‘hell fucking no’ goes around, but it’s Rookie who pulls his hands away from his dick. I shake my head at him before fishing my phone out of my pocket.

  Me: I need you to come and get your old man. He’s you’re responsibility.

  I look at the clock on my phone and see it’s after 1am. Oh well, hopefully she’s a light sleeper and the phone wakes her. Then a thought hits me: Posey. Fuck, she’ll have to drag that little girl out of her bed.

  Farrah: Why?

  Me: He decided it would be fun to drink a bottle of whiskey.

  Farrah: Put him in his room. He can sleep it off. I’m in bed.

  I shake my head at her response. Surely she knows the ways of the club: you look after your old lady and she looks after you. I tap out my reply, making myself clear.

  Me: You’re his old lady, sweetheart. He takes care of you, and you take care of him. Simple. Now get your ass here and take him home.

  Farrah: What if I had Posey?

  Me: I don’t need to answer that question because you just told me you don’t. Get a move on, because if he pukes, you’re cleaning it up.

  Farrah: Fine.

  Smiling to myself, I tuck my phone away and look across to my VP, who smirks at me.

  “You call in the big blond gun?” I nod.

  “Yep. She can deal with his drunk ass. I have a visit to P-Town booked.” I laugh and sit back, sipping my beer, waiting for Farrah to come here and get this dipshit. To be fair, it’s nice that we all got to have a laid-back night. Shit has been way too fucking intense around here for a while now.

  Seeing the boys sitting around tonight, drinking and laughing, shows that the club’s motto is seated deep within us. No one stands alone.