“I’ll figure out who to send,” Mad Dog said, “but you’re correct that we shouldn’t send you. We need to protect Kitty.”
“What will you tell the club?”
“I’ll tell them you’ve done it for nearly three years and it’s time someone else stepped up.”
Chapter Seven
Kitty
Squatch was outside his apartment when I pulled up. He’d changed as well, so his hair and beard were long again. His beard was neatly trimmed and shaped, and I wanted to run my fingers through it.
He pointed me into a parking space, and I backed in. I’d collapsed the dog crate and stored it in my apartment, and I’d driven with the windows down to try to get rid of the smell of the pig, but it’d still been a little strong when I’d loaded the car. I’d solved the problem by spraying hairspray all around where the crate had been, so now there was a different stink.
He coughed and backed away when I opened the back, and I sighed. “I know. It’s bad. I had the windows down on the way over.”
We both stood and looked at everything I’d brought — two huge suitcases I couldn’t take on an airplane because they were too big, two large suitcases that barely met airline requirements, four duffels, and a garbage bag full of shoes.
“This should get me through two weeks, probably. The problem is that you never know if it’s going to be winter or spring, this time of year, so it’s possible this is closer to three weeks of clothes, but I only trust the weather forecast three days out. Beyond that, they’re shooting out their butts.” In the ambush, I’d have been in trouble for that last bit, even if I’d substituted bottoms for butts. Women didn’t speak that way.
“Do you prefer to fold or hang?”
It took me a few minutes to figure out what he was asking. “Pants hang. Most shirts hang, but some have to fold or they get dragged out of shape. Same with sweaters. Why?”
“Let’s get your bags into the house and then we’ll take a trip to the store for some hardware to turn the back wall of my dining room into a closet for you. I’d empty my closet out and give it to you, but it feels like you need more space than that.”
Four hours later, the back wall of his dining room was filled with closet bars to hang my clothes, drawers for my undies, shelves for the clothes that fold, and a large shoe rack. He’d also installed a curtain rod into the ceiling and bought enough panels of floor-to-ceiling cream colored curtains to hide the makeshift closet from view. I wasn’t sure how he could have welcomed me into his home any better until he cleared plenty of room for me in his bathroom, and put an organizer on the vanity for my things.
He pointed to the top right part of the vanity and said, “I’d like this drawer to be mine, for my toothbrush, floss, and shaving things. I use an electric shaver to trim my beard when Daffodil can’t come take care of me, and I probably need to keep that charged up from here on out. The other drawers and under the sink are yours.”
I shook my head. “About that, I’ve been meaning to talk to you, because I don’t want you to stop...” I hadn’t thought the wording through, so I stopped and started again. “It felt like you were worried I’d be upset when I found out Daffodil was here when I called, but I felt the opposite — you kicked her out to come help me. So long as I’m number one in your life, you can have sex with whoever you want. I mean, I assume you take precautions to keep from getting anyone pregnant, and that needs to continue, but as long as you never make me feel as if you’re choosing them over me, it’ll be fine.”
He walked out of the bathroom, through his bedroom, and pulled one of the kitchenette chairs out. With my new closet taking up room, we’d only have space for two people to eat at the little table, but I didn’t figure we were going to be having dinner guests anytime soon.
He sat in the chair and leveled his gaze at me. “Come here.”
I did, and he pulled me into his lap. “As long as Blaze isn’t more shorthanded than it already is, I won’t be there very often. I need to pop in and handle paperwork a few times during the week, but I’ll be in the office. Nothing we can do about the weekend nights, but Dementor will try to keep me on the door or behind the bar. Once Bobcat’s back, he’ll be doing the paperwork, and it’s possible I can get away with only being there one half-shift per week.”
I wasn’t certain how to respond to that, but it felt like he needed me to say something. “I don’t want you rearranging your life for me.”
“Tough shit. I’ve rearranged my apartment, and I’ll do the same with my life. I should be back in my house come July or August, and I’ll do whatever I need to make you feel at home there, too.”
I’d known the bikers had to live in the apartment complex for security reasons while the clubhouse was here, but I hadn’t known Squatch had a house somewhere. If I asked about it, I’d get us off track, though, so I stayed focused.
“I’m going to be having sex with men at work, and I’m going to be stripping on stage, and dancing on laps in the private rooms. People will be lusting after me and touching me. It’s my job, and I don’t intend to quit. Being a biker is kind of your job, and playing with the sweetbutts is one of the benefits. I get that the wolves probably stop doing that once they’re in a relationship, but I’m telling you that I think it’ll be healthier if you keep doing it.”
He sighed, wrapped his muscled arms around me, and pulled me into the heat of him. Again, with anyone else it would’ve felt claustrophobic, and yet, I leaned into him and felt safe.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” he told me. “I’m not sure the wolf will be okay with it. Are you really saying that if you come home and scent another woman in our bed, you’ll be okay with that?”
“Once it’s our bed, probably not. It’s your bed right now, and I’m a visitor. I guess I was assuming you’d be with her in the clubhouse and then come home alone.”
I leaned back and he let me go enough so I could move. I held his face between my open palms and stretched my spine to make myself as tall as possible. He met my gaze and I held it a few seconds before telling him, “Just don’t lie about it. Tell me who and when, and how it was. It’s possible that I might ask you not to have sex with a particular person, but no one comes to mind at the moment. I promise you that if I have a problem, I will tell you and won’t make you figure it out. I need you to make the same promise to me.”
He shook his head. “The wolf is going to have a problem with you smelling of other men. There’s no need for me to tell you this every time you come home from work. I’m not asking you to quit your job during this trial period.” He pulled me back to him again. “It’s my hope that once you’ve saved up a comfortable cushion, you’ll cut your hours way back, and stop going next door, knowing I will pay for all your needs and most of your wants. I know you want to be independent, so I won’t demand it of you up front, but I won’t deny that I’m hoping you’ll choose to either stop dancing on your own, or only dance one or two nights a week.”
We need more people on the weekends than during the week, so we had several dancers who only worked one or two nights a week. They didn’t do the big numbers with the others, and they weren’t part of the core team of dancers, but they filled a spot when the bar was packed.
However, quitting my job hadn’t been part of my plan. At all. He’d said I’d have to quit when he’d been throwing out edicts, but I figured if he didn’t want to give me permission to speak out, it was his own fault when I chose not to.
“The truth is,” I told him, “I only go next door with the men I want to have sex with. I enjoy that part of my job more than the dancing part, some nights. I’m not sure I’m going to want to give it up.”
He kissed the top of my head. “And maybe the wolf can live with that, maybe he can’t. We’ll address it in a month, once we’ve had time to live with each other and figure things out.”
“When the cat needs to run, I’ll be gone for the night and most of the next day, usually. Sometimes every week, usually every other wee
k. Occasionally, more than once a week, but it won’t be often. You aren’t going to be able to dictate that.” And I’d have to figure out how to fit Brooke into those times without lying. Crap, he’d said I had to be honest. It wasn’t just about telling a lie with him.
“There’s something else I need to do every once in a while. Like, eight times a year. I can’t talk to you about it, either. It’s tied up in my family stuff I’ve already kind of tried to let you know exists. It’ll take all night. I won’t be having sex with anyone when I’m gone. You’re going to scent some stuff on me and I need you to not ask questions.”
He took three deep breaths before he responded. “No promises. I realize you may not answer my questions, but I doubt I’ll refrain from asking them. Will this happen within our one-month assessment?”
I did the math in my head. “Yes.”
“Okay then. We’ll talk about it and figure it out.”
He lifted me on his lap and rearranged me, so I was straddling his legs, facing him. “You’ve done your best to be honest with me, even about stuff you can’t tell me. I can’t make the same promise to you about the club. There’ll be things I’ll have to lie about, at least at first. I promise not to outright lie about anything involving you, and I’ll tell you a truth about myself, to try to show you how much I appreciate your honesty.”
I touched his chin. “I know there will be exceptions, but I have this idea that ya’ll mostly only do really bad things to bad people, and not to good people. Can you at least verify that for me?”
He shook his head. “I can tell you that’s the goal, but it’s an idealistic one, and it isn’t always possible to follow it.”
He waited for my reaction, and I wasn’t sure I had one. All I could manage was an, “Okay.”
I’d already known his answer, I’d just been hoping for something better. It didn’t matter though. I wanted him. End of story. I wanted to spend a month with him. Maybe two. Possibly three. For sure not longer though. Three months would probably be pushing it. I knew I risked my job by doing this, but I couldn’t help myself. He’d awakened something in me, and at least for now, I needed Squatch in my life like I needed oxygen. I’d have probably done okay with the once or sometimes twice a week he paid for my services, if I hadn’t needed help with body disposal, but I’d fallen the rest of the way for him while he helped me.
He hadn’t treated me like a helpless female. When I’d been in danger of falling apart, he’d bolstered me and helped me get through it with strength. He’d shown confidence in my ability to handle shit. I knew, without a doubt, if he hadn’t thought I was up to the task, he’d have called in one of his brothers to help him prepare the bodies, dump them, and then drive the van while he drove the Pathfinder. Also, if he didn’t one thousand percent trust me, I wouldn’t know what he’d done with the bodies.
But he’d treated me as competent, and when I’d been in danger of falling apart, he’d said exactly the right thing to help me focus and do the job.
“That’s it? Just okay?” He asked. I saw the hint of a smile, but his eyes were serious.
“Yeah. The supernatural world is all about survival of the fittest. It isn’t like I’ve been shielded from it. Maybe I’m seeing things through rose-colored glasses, but I don’t think ya’ll are the bad guys. Not the good guys either, but more good than bad. You follow your own rules and your own morals, but so far, I haven’t had a problem with either.” I took a breath. “What’s this truth you want to share with me?”
“I’ve never claimed not to be a total caveman. I prefer sweetbutts and workin’ girls because I don’t want to have to negotiate for sex. I like it my way, and I won’t apologize for that. I rarely do relationships, but when I do, it’s not at all equitable. It isn’t even BDSM, because there are too many rules to that. It’s just me fucking you when I want and how I want. Sometimes, it might amuse me to give you orgasms and make sure you enjoy it, other times, it will amuse me to hurt you and make you cry. You are never going to confuse normal sex with punishments. What happened earlier was a punishment, and you have to do something wrong in order to get those.”
Call me crazy, but the fact he used words like equitable while explaining that he’s a caveman just endeared him to me even more. Brains and rough sex. Could it get any better?
He brushed a hand over my cheek. “It won’t always matter whether you knew it was a rule ahead of time. I expect you to use common sense. If you know I won’t like something, don’t do it. If your instincts tell you it might be a problem, ask.”
“Have you ever had a normal relationship?”
“High school. I went to college for a business degree, but didn’t finish. I took the relevant classes, but didn’t have time for the bullshit classes, so...” He shrugged. “No degree, but I know what I need to in order to help Mad Dog run the club.”
“Nothing normal past high school?”
“Nope. I found someone smarter and older than me in college and kind of blackmailed her into doing my English papers my freshman year. I now understand I found a submissive in need of someone to boss her around. At the time, I just knew she’d do my homework and give me a blowjob when ordered to. Eventually, she gave me a lot more than blowjobs. I haven’t had a normal relationship since her.”
“Are you still in touch with her?”
“No. We went to Auburn. Last I heard, she married a gazillionaire, and I’m sure he’s keeping her naked and plugged when he isn’t using her. Or I hope he is, since that would make her pretty damned happy.”
I’d never had any kind of relationship. Ever. There was one boy in the ambush I probably would have liked, had it been allowed, but it wasn’t, so we didn’t. When my dad realized how much we talked, he gave the boy to one of my friends. Sex is done in front of watchers when the girl is ovulating. Four times a day. There was no doubt he was having a lot of sex with my friend, and it hurt my heart, even though it wasn’t his fault.
However, I’d had enough sex since I started working at Blaze to know what I like and don’t like. I also knew I wasn’t interested in being bossed around for stuff other than sex. I couldn’t tell whether Squatch understood that or not.
“I like being bossed around when it comes to sex, but I’m not sure how it’s going to work day-to-day, and I’m pretty sure it won’t work for anything outside of sex. If you try to boss me around about everything, we probably won’t last the month, so if I need to talk to you about it before then, you’re going to need to listen to me.”
He grinned. “If I wanted a doormat, I wouldn’t be moving a fucking tiger into my apartment. It’s going to be fine, Kitten.”
I’d never let anyone call me kitten before, but I’d chose Kitty for a stage name, so I couldn’t really bitch about it. Plus, if I was honest, I loved the way it sounded when he said it. I didn’t mind being his kitten.
I like the name Brooke chose for me as well — Natalie James. I never wanted to be called by my real name again. I had a deal with the MC that my face wasn’t in any public promo. When they needed all of us in a picture, I wore a sexy cat mask. I couldn’t take the chance that my family would find me with an image search. I can slightly alter my face for a short time, and I’d done so to get my driver’s license picture. I’d listened in when one of my male cousins was taught how to do it, and I’d secretly learned.
I know there are some shots of me out there, online. The MC doesn’t let people take photos or videos of us on stage, but they don’t stop them from taking pictures in the bachelor party area, and sometimes I’m unknowingly in the background. I was pretty sure none were detailed enough of my face to matter, but there was no way to know for certain. Also, I wear a lot of makeup when I work, so it’s possible the facial recognition might not work anyway. My family has no pictures of me with makeup.
There are signed promo shots of us available for purchase, and those have me with the cat mask.
“You seem deep in thought.”
“I have secrets. I can’
t tell you my secrets. If you can be okay with the me I am now, without knowing about my past, then we can work. If you need to know about my past, we won’t. If you go digging around in my past, I’ll have to leave town. Probably the country. Please don’t do that.”
“I expect that eventually you’ll trust me with your secrets. Probably not a month. Maybe not three months.”
“And if I can’t at six months?”
“We’ll figure it out.” He kissed my forehead. “Enough talk. Stand, strip, and bend over my lap.”
My heart fell to my stomach. “What did I do?”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. I thought I’d made it clear that regular sex spankings will never be confused for a punishment spanking. You’ll go to your knees and we’ll talk about punishments before they happen. Always. I may send you to your knees for a talk when you aren’t in trouble, so it won’t always mean there’s a problem, but you’ll never be punished without a full explanation first, and that will always happen when you’re on your knees before me.”
I leaned left, put my weight on my foot, and swung my right leg off his lap. My pulse raced, but I couldn’t slow it, so I ignored it. I took my shirt off and started folding it, and he said, “No. Don’t fold it. If you want to drape it over something to keep it from wrinkling, that’s fine, or you can just toss it on the floor. Folding is part of the ritual of punishment.”
The ritual of punishment.
My entire body relaxed. My heart rate slowed. Caveman or not, Squatch was never going to strike me in anger, or for an unknown reason. This changed everything.
I grinned and tossed my shirt onto the table, turned around, and wiggled my ass at him as I pulled my jeans down. I left them on the floor, kicked them out of the way, pulled my bra off as if it were nothing, flipped it across the room like a slingshot, and settled a finger inside the waistband of my thong. “Seems to me, you might want to unwrap part of your present.”
Squatch (Rolling Thunder MC Birmingham Book 4) Page 6