by Bijou Hunter
“Selfish,” I growl at Maverick before walking to Shane. “Help me.”
“Do what?”
“Help me calm down long enough for Goliath to put his supersized dick in my snatch.”
Shane’s dark eyes reach out to me as he growls, “I will never do that.”
“Then I’ll die of horniness,” I say, plopping down on the ground. Before I can go full pout, Iggy toddles over and shows me the fake tattoo on his tiny arm. “I want a baby,” I coo and show him the fake tattoo on my wrist. “I’ll name him Champion. One day, he’ll be president of the Shasta chapter. And Iggy can be his VP.”
“My boy should be president,” Shane says while River snickers at his son’s demotion.
“Iggy’s too sweet for the top spot. He’ll have to follow Champion’s lead.”
“I want you to have a son,” Ramona says, taking Ozzy from Shane, who is dying to get in my face, “so you can name him that. I want a little nephew called Champ.”
“Nephew,” I say and grin at her. “Shane will be the best uncle.”
My brother’s irritation shorts out at the thought of him being an uncle. “I’ll rock that job.”
“You rock everything,” Ramona says, and I’m jealous again.
“People annoy me,” I tell Iggy, who babbles something about peanuts and possibly jelly. Hmm, I could go for a sandwich myself.
Since my beloved friends and family are too busy staring lustfully into each other’s eyes, I take my nephew into the kitchen, where I slap together a few sloppy sandwiches for us. As a professional cook, Max would be horrified to see the mess I’ve made. She takes food very seriously. I don’t care what shit looks like as long as I can shove it in my mouth.
If only charming a giant man like Goliath was as simple as pleasing my appetite.
THE GOLIATH
Shelby Campbell is a tricky bitch for showing up at my place and filling my head with unruly thoughts. How am I supposed to react once she leaves? What the fuck was that last look she gave me before riding off? She’s conning me. Not for business reasons. It’s a game by a bored, rich girl.
I’m too old to let my dick rule my brain. Shelby’s good looking in all the best ways, and I can’t deny she’s on my mind every time my dick is hard. That don’t mean I oughta let her run me in circles.
Knowing what’s right doesn’t mean my head settles down after Shelby rides away. I could head to the gym the Reapers use for training. Not sure I want to chance running into Shane and River there. What would I say? Nothing. Just like I always say to them.
I can’t go to the Saloon and find a sweet butt to work out my frustrations with either. Not now that Shelby is acting like she’s interested in me. Shit, what kind of hell would that woman unleash if her precious feelings got hurt? Can’t chance my nards for a quickie release. Where does that leave me?
I sit in my trailer, feeling like it shrunk when I wasn’t looking. Stalking my way outside, I find the world still too close for comfort. I need to breathe, and only riding does that for me.
The hog’s roar drowns out the noise of the world. Except I can still hear Shelby in my head. I see her in my mind. I think back to the first time I saw her. I’d just gotten released hours earlier, and I was meeting her brother and River at the Saloon. I didn’t have shit to say to them that day. I only wanted a cold beer, a hot sandwich, and a hotter pussy. Plenty of new sweet butts around the Saloon since I’d last been there.
I sat at a table with my old club brother, Utah. He talks less than I do. Chase was there too. He mostly mumbled about who had a kid while I was gone and who dumped who while I was gone and who died while I was gone and what restaurants opened—two of them—while I was gone and what restaurant closed—six of them—while I was gone. The conversation was as brain-numbing as those I had back in the joint.
Then I saw Shelby and her friend Taylor join Shane and River. The blonde was pretty enough. But, holy hell, the brunette made my dick hurt.
Then the woman climbed over the table, giving the entire bar a solid view of her heaven-sent ass. After years without access to a woman’s body, I instantly memorized her every curve. I didn’t know shit about her otherwise. I figured she was fucking River, Shane, or both of them. Took me a few days to get the story on how the Reapers roll.
I didn’t get too wound up that first day. Shit, I’d have fucked the ugliest, smelliest bitch after five years without pussy. Focusing on the prettiest belle of the ball wasn’t worth my time. Then weeks later, Shelby, Taylor, and a former sweet butt named Kelsi decided to crank up the karaoke machine and decimate one of those pop hits that make my fillings hurt. I couldn’t take my eyes off the bouncy brunette, which surprised me. I’m usually attracted to blondes. Shelby was too good looking not to put above others, though.
Today, my hog ends up taking me to a trailer park a few towns away from Shasta. My mom has called this place home for over a decade. I offered to get her set up somewhere better, but God said she shouldn’t take my dirty money.
Ursula Midkiff got her Jesus fix after going wild in her twenties and making her bastard son. Sometimes, I think I’m supposed to apologize for reminding her of all the whoring she did back in the day. I’m the product of a hookup with a married man in Tennessee. I long doubted she really knew who my father was. Then she claimed this particular man was a giant. She probably narrowed down the candidates based on my size as a kid.
These days, we don’t talk about him or much of anything. I visit her a few times a month, mostly because I worry that she’ll croak soon. She’s never been healthy, but she and her husband, Hal, only eat junk, never exercise, and smoke like chimneys. He suffered a heart attack while she’s had a few mini-strokes. They ain’t ever gonna change.
What also won’t change is her thinking I was a mistake. But I don’t come here for her. I visit for the man I’ll be in the future. I don’t want him feeling guilty when his mom’s dead and he thinks he didn’t do enough when she was alive. That fucking chump will run me ragged, so I give in to him now.
The Summit Mobile Home Park is a seniors-only setup, meaning my arrival scares the crap out of a lot of the residents. No matter how many times I show up, I get the evil eye from the old coots running around this place.
“There’s a time limit on guests,” claims the tightly wound broad who lives next door to Ursula.
“Nomp,” I say and knock on my mother’s door.
“What?” the woman asks.
I walk over to her and lean down until she’s pissing her adult diapers. “I said, ‘nomp.’”
“Stop harassing Tessie,” Ursula scolds when she opens her door to find me eyeballing her neighbor.
“Tell her to stop hassling me,” I mutter and walk to where my mother sits on the porch. “She always tells me that guest rule.”
“She’s old.”
“I don’t think that’s why she repeats herself. She likes throwing her weight around,” I say and stand near my mother.
“How come you want to see me? I always tell you the same things too.”
“Yomp, but if she dies, I ain’t gonna notice. If you do, I’m gonna notice.”
Shrugging, Ursula lights a cigarette. “You’re gonna die before me, Dean. Hal and I were just talking about that last night.”
“If I was gonna die, I’d have done it right after I got out. Now I’m gonna live a long life. That’s a fact. Hal won’t be around more than two years tops. Hope his will is in order.”
“Stop talking about me,” whines the old spunk-waste from inside the trailer.
“I’m defending you,” Ursula tells him.
“What?”
“I’m standing up for you.”
“I can’t hear you.”
My brain offers me an out from their dumb-shit banter by showing me what I came here to get out of my head. Shelby is probably at her fancy house, plotting her next move to mess with me. While my mother tells stories about a dozen people that I don’t give two brown squirts about, I co
nsider my options with Shelby.
I could do that romancing thing. I bought Becklyn and Jaymes flowers. Usually, when I fucked up or they were hardcore on the rag, but I know how to do that stuff.
No, that ain’t gonna mean shit with a woman like Shelby. She wants something specific. Probably has a checklist in her woman's brain, and I’m never gonna get all the right stuff done without her spelling shit out. It’s not who I am. If that’s what she needs, then I’m gonna have to live with doing without her around.
THE CHAPTER WHERE COURAGE IS BUILT UP
THE WEIRDO
Before Taylor came into my life, I spent most of my time with Shane and River or my parents. The Reapers in Ellsberg are tightknit in a way they aren’t in Shasta yet. My father is close to the club president—Cooper Johansson—and River’s dad, Vaughn. Those people were like an extended family. And there were plenty of girls to hang around with growing up—the Johansson sisters, the Majors girls, Heidi O’Keefe. Some were younger, but so is Shane, and I never felt as if he was a pest. I just couldn’t click with those girls.
I fell hard for Taylor, though. She was a scrappy kid with a terrible mullet haircut and the typical redneck trash family. We didn’t have much of anything in common, but chemistry doesn’t have to make sense. Taylor and I just got each other. Fortunately, River and Shane fell in love with her too. The four of us remain inseparable even now that everyone—except me—is in love and making babies.
“Last night, Kelsi, Hugh, and I were talking about having a kid together,” she says as we stand outside the Dirty Toes Saloon—aka the Reapers’ local clubhouse.
“How would that work?” I ask, fixing the collar on her flannel top.
Taylor’s always dated both guys and girls. Though she never showed a preference, I always believed she’d land on vagina when it was time to settle down. Mostly because she can be a bit of a ballbuster, and any man willing to be her bitch wouldn't be someone she’d want around. I was proven right when she fell hard for the cute, bouncy blonde Kelsi.
The Fearsome Foursome met its romantic match with the Band. Ramona, Max, Kelsi, and sole dude, Hugh, go way back. They’re tight like I’m tight with my friends. They like shitty music, good food, and okay movies. Shane falling for Ramona brought the Band into our circle. Then River fell hard. Next was Taylor. If Hugh wasn’t gay, I’d have jumped him just to make the foursome-on-foursome thing work. But he is, and I suspect he might be too quirky for me. Only one wackadoodle per relationship is my rule.
Now Taylor and Kelsi live in a rental house as a couple while Hugh shacks up in one of the spare bedrooms. It’s a nice fit for the threesome. Scratch that, apparently, they’re going foursome. Makes sense. We’re people who prefer quad scenarios.
“Kelsi and I were talking about who should carry the kid,” Taylor explains as the sun disappears, and the temperature drops around us. “I’m not against it, and I’m taller, so that bump wouldn’t slow me down like it would on her small frame.”
“But?” I ask, knowing there’s no way Taylor is planning to have the kid.
“My family’s trash. We have all the diseases. Why pass that on to my kid if I don’t have to? Kelsi’s family is normal. Not amazing, but not a petri dish of despair like mine.”
Hugging her tight, I’m excited to be an auntie to her future baby. “So, are we talking turkey baster?”
“Sure, or they can just do it. They’ve fucked before.”
“But he’s gay,” I mumble while stepping back, confused.
“And there are like three gay dudes in the entire county. That doesn’t give him many options. Sometimes, any hole will do.”
Feeling too virginal for my cool friends, I sigh. “I wish I was casually sexual. I bet I’d be good at it.”
“Most definitely,” she says, smirking and wiggling her eyebrows. “Anyway, it’s not a done deal. Like we’re going to let the idea settle. Though if we wanted to add a kid to the mix, it’d be most fun while our friends are making babies. Just think of the kiddies of the Foursome and the Band all chilling together.”
“What about me?” I say, pouting now since I feel as if they’re all leaving me behind in their sprint to happily ever after.
“You can fuck a guy and then raise your kid alone.”
“Why am I alone?”
“Because you have that ‘men stink’ problem.”
“Oh, yeah,” I say, sighing dramatically. “Well, if you do have a baby, I have no doubt you’ll be an amazing mother. You take such good care of me. Kelsi’s also sweet and has gotten a lot of practice with Iggy and Ozzy. You two will be awesome parents. Oh, and I’ll babysit a lot. Sometimes, you won’t see your baby for days because of how I stole it and forgot to bring it back.”
Taylor narrows her eyes. “Don’t eat my baby.”
“No, I’m not that kind of evil witch. I’m the sort that fattens the kid up with goodies and then lets them live. I’m a nice evil witch,” I say, and Taylor laughs. “But I have a question about making the baby with Hugh. Will he just be the spunk donor, or will he be parent number three?”
“That last one.”
Shaking my head, I grumble, “So your kid has three parents, and mine will have one? That seems like bullshit. I need one of you to be a second parent to my kid. I pick Hugh because he’s sensible. You and Kelsi are just too much drama,” I tease since Taylor is well-known to be the more rational one between us. “Man, Kelsi and Hugh would make a super cute kid. Her big eyes on a baby is some Disney-level shit.”
Taylor reveals one of those smiles she saves for just the right moments. That’s how I knew she loved Kelsi and wasn’t just hooking up. Months ago, I asked if Taylor and Kelsi ever spooned. It was one of those random things I ask people when I want to hear myself talk. Well, Taylor responded with a sunshine-filled smile, and I knew she was in love. For the first time in my life, I hated Taylor a little. Jealousy is a tricky bitch.
But I’m also in love with how in love my favorite people are. I want for them what I saw growing up with my parents. In some ways, Taylor’s happiness matters the most because she wasn’t born into a good family. She deserves to create one as an adult.
Looping my arm with hers, I guide Taylor into the Saloon while thinking of her holding a little Kelsi-Hugh cutie. That’s going to be a sweet sight one day.
Inside the Saloon, I instantly spot the man I can’t stop thinking about despite the buckets and buckets of ice I’ve shoved in my crotch. Goliath’s muscular body is shoved into a booth away from the one my group usually haunts. Sitting across from him, a sweet butt named Dione bounces in response to whatever she’s saying. Goliath doesn’t stare at her boobs despite them shoved out in a push-up bra and emphasized with a tight top. She either misses his lack of interest or doesn’t care. A lot of the sweet butts are only here to fuck big, tatted men. They’re not looking to make friends.
Which is good because I decide to ruin her good time. Max and Ramona claimed I needed to get to know Goliath as a person. Basically, we needed to date. Then I’ll either get over him or feel comfortable enough to ravish his giant, sexy body.
Taylor tries not to sigh with disapproval when I say I’m planning to eat with Goliath. I think she might break a rib in that endeavor. Or at the very least, she gives herself indigestion.
Despite thinking I’m an idiot, she gives me the go-ahead with my appearance. I stroll over to the table where my giant crush and his wannabe Betty Boop sit.
“Hey, doll, please go elsewhere,” I tell Dione in my most cheerful voice.
Goliath leans back, looking immediately amused by two women wanting his company. Dione, though, doesn’t even glance in my direction before saying, “We’re talking.”
Losing my casual smile, I snarl at Dione, “Bitch, I said please. Are you asking me to punch you?”
As if remembering the fapsocks I’ve beat up in this very bar, Dione awakens from her horny haze and rushes away.
“Thanks, doll,” I call out after her before shovi
ng my ass into the booth and smiling at Goliath. “Hello.”
“I wanted you two to wrestle.”
“It would have been a short bout. She can’t take a punch.”
“How would you know?”
“Did you see how hard she flinched when I called her bitch? Dione’s got a tender heart.”
“Not like you.”
“No, I can take a punch. Taylor nailed me in the pussy the other day. So, can we share a meal and talk casually about ourselves?”
Cocking an eyebrow, the giant mountain man asks, “Like a date?”
“No, like Reapers bonding over food and conversation.”
Goliath’s look implies he doesn’t view himself as one of the Reapers. Or that I can’t be a member because of the pussy that Taylor punched.
Either way, his reaction puts me in a sour mood. The Reapers let him live. He was tight with those assholes—Swamp Thing, Grabby, Cum Shot—who fucked with us. Goliath seemed like a threat, and Shane wanted him dead. River showed mercy, though. Goliath should feel indebted to the Reapers. Even if he doesn’t know his new president and VP well, this giant crotch-stain is aware that he’s been treated well.
“What’s wrong with your face?” he asks when I think of ditching his ungrateful ass.
“I’m thinking of how lucky you were to get paroled after all those Skullz died.”
“Don’t you mean how lucky you got?”
“Are you relieved you didn’t get iced?”
“I’m gonna die eventually. Shit happens,” he says in a voice laced with bitterness.
“So, you don’t care?”
“You’re the one thinking stuff. You can feel like we’re both lucky.”
“How am I lucky?”
“You can’t fuck a dead man.”
Frowning at his lack of emotion, I don’t know what I want him to say. No, I guess, I do. Goliath should turn on the charm for me like River did with Max and Shane with Ramona and Taylor with Kelsi and my dad with my mom. It’s not that fucking difficult!