There’s another.
And another.
My passion flies off the charts. I’m only vaguely conscious as I feel my own hands wrap around my breasts as if I can’t hold myself in my skin anymore. All I can see is his brown eyes staring up at me as he drives that finger further into me.
I open my mouth to say something, anything, but instead what comes out is the orgasm of a lifetime. It pours out of every inch of me like water bursting from a dam.
Breaker must sense it, or at least feel it, as he pulls back, watching me as my entire body shakes, tenses, and loosens within a matter of seconds. My hips fall and then turn so that I curl up into a small ball on the side of the bed. He pulls himself up beside me, his unhooked metal belt buckle digging into my ass, but I don’t care. The long arms draped over me and his lips kissing my bare shoulders and nestling into my hair, is all I need.
I reach behind me, placing my hand on his rough, unshaven chin and whisper, “Thank you for that.”
He pulls me into his chest even tighter and says nothing else.
Chapter Twelve
Breaker
Making it to Houston was a damn relief. After all that had happened, after all that we had lost, I thought we would never make it. Yet we arrived at the sunbaked city with fewer men but hungry for action. I was skeptical about Houston. I’m not one for Texas cowboy boots and crappy country music, but the city has something much more important—opportunity.
We found our new headquarters within a rundown bar, Diggers Drinks, outside the industrial part of the city. Paying with cash, we moved in on the same day we signed the lease and instantly go to work. Biggs set up the business side of the business in the event and brewing space with each of the exec members living in their offices while we worked to find a central space for the rest of the crew.
While I should be living there full-time, I spend most of my days at Aimee’s hotel room just a few blocks away. Biggs has her guarded most days and nights, but I manage to sneak in and out by padding the wallets of some of Biggs’ butt boys. The system works, but we know it won’t be long before someone snaps or Biggs himself catches on about where I go when my work is done.
For all the worry and anxiety she went through the first few days, after Biggs took away her old lady designation, Aimee has been relatively settled. When we arrived, Henry volunteered to take over as her guard while she was out conning. He didn’t mind her bratty ways or how she had to be in control of every mark. And, for what it is worth, that system worked. Aimee was bringing in thousands a week for the Gravediggers.
Tonight is no different. Henry walks through the back door of the bar with a sly smile on his face, just like he always did.
“Well, well, well, boys,” he crows, “another good night for our girl!”
Biggs and I follow him into his office where he keeps all of his books. He jots a quick number down in his ledger before looking back up at us. “That girl is killing it out there.” He beams. “I really think she ought to be in charge of training the other girls on how to get some quick cash.”
“Out of the question,” Biggs spits. Henry has been suggesting this for a week now, but Biggs, as always, is an unmovable lump of a mountain. Unless it’s his brilliant idea, he isn’t taking anyone’s suggestions into consideration, especially after the whole meltdown outside New Mexico. It’s his way of gaining back power.
Henry just shrugs him off. He’ll say the same thing tomorrow if he and Aimee go out for a run together. You could say a lot about the guy, but the one thing I will agree on is that he’s persistent.
“How much did she make, Henry?” I ask, taking a seat near him. I couldn’t help but be curious. On her best days, when her adrenaline was still running high, the sex was fantastic. Those lean, tan legs would wrap themselves around me, her wet pussy dripping around my jeans before I could even get through her hotel door. Of course, I wanted her to make the bucks for the Gravediggers, but I had some darker motives when it came to her performance.
“Two thousand.” He passes the manilla envelope to me.
I thumb through the bills one-by-one. Money never meant much to me. On the reservation, my family didn’t have much of it, but what my daddy earned in the oil fields and my mama got from her government check. Everything else was put on card.
Now, as a Gravedigger, I understand and appreciate it a bit more. Money was what got us from point A to point B. It’s what put food in men’s mouths and shoes on their kids’ feet. It’s what paid the gas and the rent. It’s what kept us together.
“Shit,” I mutter under my breath. Visions of Aimee sashaying around the hotel room with that red lace thong bounce in and out of my mind. I have to shift my hips just to avoid the rumble in my pants.
“She could do better,” Biggs says as he takes the envelope from me. “What the fuck is she doing that all she’s bringing in is this dinky amount? You watching her to make sure she ain’t skimming from the top? I don’t want our own, goddamn treasurer to be suckered by a two-bit con artist like her.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I reply with my arm outstretched towards Henry’s books. “The bar’s barely making the bottom line, and our guys haven’t gotten the territory set up yet. The only one that is performing at all is Aimee and her cash grabs. She’s the one paying for everything right now, and she’s not even a damn member anymore!”
“You fucking watch your tone, Breaker. I don’t need your shit. I know what that bitch is capable of, and it’s way more than that. Both of y’all going soft on me is not going to be tolerated. Aimee ain’t a member. She’s ours to use, and if she ain’t living up to her potential, then I’m going to have to figure out a more profitable use for her.”
Henry and I eye one another. He’s mentioned her being sold off pretty frequently since we arrived in Houston, but I’ve just ignored it. It’s pretty clear to me that Biggs is going through some crisis where he thinks I’m going to stage a fucking coup or something. Aimee is his only bargaining chip against me, and even I know that I would give her up if it meant the club sticking together.
Still, I hold those words tight to my chest until I see her later.
Coozy is on guard tonight at the Great Ace Motel. Luckily for me, he just wants a few bottles of cold beer and some snort to get him through the night. I pat his back as I pass him the Miller and baggies before knocking on her door.
Like I predicted, Aimee yanks me inside the room, slamming the door behind her. She stands back, staring me down with an expression I can’t exactly read. Finally, after her pause, she begins to walk toward me, her arms reaching out for me. I try to hide the knowing smile, but it breaks away as she lowers her voice to say, “I need to know you’re with me, Breaker.”
“What?” I ask, scratching the back of my neck. Something about the way she’d whispered it makes me uncomfortable.
“I need to know you’re with me... because I need your help for something.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “We’ve been over this a hundred times now. I’m not going to help you escape, Aimee. You’re Gravedigger territory, but I’m working on getting Biggs to—”
She places a finger to my lips and then pulls me down by the neck to her face. I feel the warmth of her breath on my skin as she continues on. “No. It’s not that, Breaker. I need your help because Biggs is going to pull something soon. I know it.”
“How? How do you know it?”
“Henry, he told me that he’s been mentioning that he was going to change my job if I didn’t pull in more money. Is that right?” She looks up at me with those big, doe eyes of her, and I can’t hide the truth. Slowly, I nod my head. “Well, I asked some of the girls, the street girls, and they mentioned that Biggs came over a few nights ago asking for client information. He was telling them he had a new product to sell and that head club guys were going to be clamoring to get it.”
“What does that have to do with you?” I ask. “I would know if he was going to sell you or som
e shit.”
“No, you wouldn’t. You’re too close to me, and he knows that. He wouldn’t fill you in on that plan unless he planned on using it against you. Let’s be honest here.” She slumps on the small couch in the corner, her knees pulled into her chest as she begins to rock back and forth. With her head ducked down, she adds, “There’s something I haven’t told you about him, Breaker. That night when we first hooked up, Biggs… well, he propositioned me. He told me he could protect me if I fucked him.”
My face goes warm as my hands tense up into big balls of fists. “Did you?” I spit out through gritted teeth.
“No!” She shouts back while looking me dead in the eyes. “I could never, ever be with a guy like him. I already did that once, and I got so many black eyes for it. The only one I’ve ever slept with is you. And that’s why I need you. We have to get into Biggs’ office and see what he’s up to. Please, Breaker. You have to help me with this.”
I walk towards the bathroom, my back towards her so she can’t see the indecision spelled out on my face. My loyalty pledge was to Biggs and the Gravediggers. I took it every single year around a firepit with my men looking on. I was a Gravedigger for life with the patches to prove what I have done to wear our colors.
But, on the other hand, he has broken so many unwritten and written rules. He had taken away my property when he released Aimee as a punishment for just trying to protect the club and its members. Aimee had pulled some shit breaking into our headquarters, but she has proved her worth over and over again. She was acting more like a Gravedigger than our own president was, and that deserved some loyalty too.
Torn between the club and the body that slept next to me each night, I had to make some decisions and quick. She wouldn’t wait long to take matters into her own hands if I didn’t assist her myself. I turn back to face Aimee who stares at me with wanting.
I take my phone out of my pocket and place it to my ear as I wait for the other line to answer. “Hey... Henry? I need to ask you a favor. Is Biggs out yet or is he still working?”
***
Aimee stands next to me as I turn my back to Biggs’ office door. To our surprise, the bar is actually making a killing tonight with the live band some of the boys booked. Drunk men meander around with their bottles slightly tipped towards the ground, while young girls in boots and short-shorts lean into them, looking for free drinks.
None of the guys walking past Aimee and me to hit the bathrooms are with our club, but you can’t be too careful when you’re breaking into a motorcycle club president’s office. We stare at one another, smiling; trying to look convincing as a couple just getting some air from the noisy, smoke-filled bar.
When it clears, I use my basic lock picking skills to use a credit card to slide open the basic bolt lock, making a mental note to replace the lock on my own office when I get a chance. The door opens, and I slide into the darkness with Aimee following behind me.
“Stand by the door and play lookout,” I command her. She stays put, peering through the small crack in the door with her ear pressed against the wall.
Biggs computer is still up and running. The man knows nothing about basic security. Even I, who fucking hates anything technology, have a passcode on my devices.
It’s just too easy to hit his email. I do a search for Aimee’s name, and it comes back with at least twenty emails from the past week. I find the first one; an email that Biggs sent.
I have an opportunity you won’t want to miss. This chick is fine. On a scale of 1-10, I give her a solid 8. Nice C size tits, perky ass, dark skin. She’d make a good addition to your group of ladies and is submissive when put in her place. Not only does she have a pussy worth getting your dicks in, but she also has skills that could earn you big bucks. She’s known all over the west for grifting even the biggest clubs. Just this week, she earned our club nearly $6k.
Pics included. You don’t want to miss.
Interested in getting your hands on her? I’m taking the highest bidder. Make your offers for cash or trades.
—Biggs McGuire, President of Gravediggers MC
My mouth goes dry as I open the attachments—a slideshow of shots of her pops up. I recognize a lot of her outfits or the backgrounds in them. They couldn’t have all been taken just by him, especially not the upskirt ones from the funeral.
“Aimee…” I begin to whisper, but she’s already behind me, her hand wrapped around the metal of the chair.
She gasps. “Is that me?” I stop on a picture of a headless woman, her breasts hanging out of her shirt. “That can’t be…” She goes silent when I find another picture of her smiling as she squints from the sun.
“It gets worse,” I say with a stiff jaw and a pit in my stomach growing larger by the second. “You were right. He’s trying to sell you. These emails are all bids from club leaders. I recognize a few of the names.”
“I— I— don’t…” She races back to the door of the office and sneaks out. I click out of all of the tabs before running after her, following her through the maze of people back to the parking lot.
“Aimee! Stop!” I manage to grab her arm, pulling her back towards me. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“Away, Breaker! Away! I have to go!”
“At least let me take you back to the hotel,” I offer, knowing that there was nothing else I could do right now. By the look of the last email I clicked on, it seems as if Biggs is still taking offers, but isn’t planning on selling her tonight.
She wraps her arms around herself as if she’s chilled to the bone. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go now.”
We begin to walk back to my Harley when I feel the buzz of my phone against my leg. Biggs’ name pops up on the screen, stopping me in my place. Aimee watches as I answer it.
“I need you at the Naughty Spot, Breaker. Can you get here?” He’s already at the strip club from the sound of it; pounding music blasts through the phone as a woman shrieks in the background.
Holding back all the anger festering in my head, I reply, “Yeah. I can get there. Give me about twenty minutes.”
He hangs up, and I’m left with Aimee staring me down with a glare so icy I could freeze in place.
“You’re not. You can’t,” she stutters.
“I have to Aimee. Biggs is my club’s president. And when he calls, I have to come.”
“But… did you see?”
“Yes! I fucking saw it. Do you think I’m not pissed about it? I’m livid. But this is the reality, Aimee—it’s not all rainbows and sunshine. This shit happens when you mess with a fucking club like you did.” The words spill out of me before I can control them. I can tell I’ve wounded her by how she bites the corner of her lips and takes a step back from me.
“I was doing what I had to do to survive. If I would’ve known I was going to end up here, with you, I wouldn’t have done it.”
The with you is like a dagger right to the gut. I walk past her without another word and get on my bike. She follows and positions herself on the back, but this time, she doesn’t put her arms around me or press her chest against my back. She sits straight up, looking forward at the road ahead. Fine. She can have it her way then.
I drop her back at her motel room, walking her past the few drunk club members sitting outside the parking lot and her guard still high as a kite. She unlocks her door and heads inside without speaking to me, not that I’d expected her to. We’re even. I don’t have to deal with her prissy girl attitude when I already have enough with Biggs to worry about.
The Naughty Place is only a few miles from the motel, but I take my time getting there. A little time on the road helps to clear my head and get myself in a good mindset. Knowing Biggs, I’m either walking into a normal night at the club or a trap that’s been set for awhile. Given tonight’s activities with Aimee, something tells me that I need to be on my toes and stay on alert for this.
The club is just as I expected; an ordinary strip club. We go to them a lot when we’re on the
road, and the scene is the same in just about every dive. Leather couches, neon lights, girls gyrating on objects as they stare down with blank expressions at their marks. The nudity is nothing. These girls are as cold as corpses when you get your hands on them, even the prettiest of them.
Biggs sits alone at one of the booths. Two girls flank him as they rub their curvy tits into his face and chest. He looks ahead towards the stage, occasionally throwing up a few bills towards his private dancers.
I clear my throat and interrupt his little threesome. “You wanted to see me, Biggs?”
He shoves one of the girls to the side, clearing a spot for me next to him. “Sit down. Have a shot or two.”
I can smell the bad tequila from a mile away, but I still knock it back. Everything instantly feels warmer. Even the lady next to me, touching the neckline of my shirt, appears more attractive to me with her sparkly G-string and black silk bra.
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