Wild Side

by Cynthia Ayman

  “But can he put some in yours?” An amused voice says from the threshold of the bathroom’s door.

  “Reese,” Apa warns when I squeak and struggle to cover myself with the curtain he just managed to free me from.

  Oh no. Oh no, no, no. Reese. His best friend.

  This is bad. This is really bad. His best friend is right there while I’m butt-naked and wet and those damn balls are still somewhere. I squeeze my eyes shut, my whole face heating up.

  The door closes, and I hear a loud sigh. “Baby, he’s gone.”

  “Oh my God,” I whine as I look at Apa. He is sitting on the edge of the tub, a small smile playing on his lips. At least one of us is having a good time.

  “What the fuck happened?” he asks as he picks up the rod that fell when I gripped the curtain.

  I glare at him because, really, this is all his fault. Be into kinky stuff all you want but jeez, do you really have to leave your anal toys hang around?? At least, give the girl a warning!

  I notice he shut off the water, but his T-shirt is wet.

  “I was assaulted by your sex toys.”

  His eyebrows rise. “Excuse me?”

  I shift but it’s not easy as I try to maintain a little bit of self-esteem and keep my body mostly covered.

  “I still remember exactly what you look like, you know,” Apa notes as he stands up and puts the rod back. Apparently, I didn’t break anything and it’s one of those expandable bars that adjust in length. His T-shirt rises a little, showing me his happy trail.

  Yum.

  I manage to stand up while holding the curtain against me and point my finger at the culprits. “Who on earth,” I say in my most offended voice, “stores his sex toys in the shower?”

  He smirks as he bends and picks them up. I’m surprised when the throws them right into the trashcan, though. “Sorry. Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a brand-new pair.”

  I guess that means they’re not for him. “I don’t want you to buy me sex toys.”

  “You will.”

  “I so won’t.”

  “You so will,” he murmurs as he grabs the back of his shirt and pulls it over his head. Damn. I love it when guys do that. It’s really hot.

  His jeans are next, and he throws his clothes in a corner before climbing into the bathtub with me. I notice he’s half hard and that he looks as good as in my memories.

  “You better not touch me with those hands.”

  He rolls his eyes. “They were clean. I wouldn’t have put them back in their box if I hadn’t cleaned them first. Don’t worry.”

  He starts the shower again and gives me the hand sign to make me turn around. I do, begrudgingly. He rinses my hair, then soaps me up. I will smell like him but it’s not like I have a choice. I hope I won’t have a rash, though, because that would be the icing on the cake.

  I’m surprised he doesn’t try anything. Not that I would want to when I’m still thinking about the balls.

  He pats my ass when he’s done rinsing me, and I step out of the tub, feeling a little bit guilty at the water on the floor. It’s not soaking wet, but the lack of a curtain made the floor slippery. I dry myself then slip on my PJs and head to the bedroom with a towel around my hair. I’m surprised to see that the bed is made. Either Apa is extremely quick, or someone else finished the job for him.

  I hope it’s not Pinkie.

  I am untangling my hair when Apa walks in, completely naked. He walks to a drawer and pulls out a pair of sweatpants then sits next to me. “Sorry. If I had planned on you coming to my bedroom beforehand, I would have made sure everything was cleaned up.”

  I shrug. I’m not mad. I mean, I’m not pleased but it’s not like he could have guessed he would bring me with him. We parted ways three months ago, and there was no way he would have remained celibate for so long. That doesn’t mean I have to like it, but it is what it is. “I’m not dumb, it’s not like you did it on purpose. I just freaked out a little, especially with what Pinkie said.”

  “Yeah.” He winces. “I’ll talk to her. Girls here can be… don’t let them get to you. They should leave you alone because you’re with me and you’re not staying, but they can be bitchy.”

  “I just wonder what the hell I was thinking,” I admit as I look around his room. “We had a nice time and I thought maybe we could… I don’t know. It’s just pretty obvious I only had a small part of you and now I’m confronted with the rest and…” I trail off, not even sure of what I’m trying to say. Truth be told, I’m tired. The last few days have been exhausting, mentally and physically. Had I been in better shape, I probably would have said no to his proposition. I can’t help but think that that might have been better too.

  Our worlds are colliding, and I’m not sure it’s for the best.

  Chapter 13

  Apa

  I stop by Reese’s bedroom as I head to the kitchen. His door is half-open, and Lacy is riding him. “Thanks for the bed,” I say as I wave at him.

  His hand lets go of one of her boobs as he waves back. “Anytime. Figured she probably had enough for one night, no need to let her find your used condoms as well.”

  I wince because even though I’m not a pig, we did leave for Arizona in a hurry, so it’s entirely possible I forgot a rubber.

  The house is quiet. It’s Sunday night and usually everyone goes to bed early. We party hard during the weekends but also have jobs during the week. A few guys are playing poker, and I watch them while the pizza leftovers are in the oven.

  “Your girl settled down?” Lee asks.

  “She’s not my girl.”

  A few snorts echo through the room. “Man, you brought her to the clubhouse. Whether you like it or not, it’s a statement.”

  “She’s having a rough time. That’s all.”

  “You plan on fucking any of the girls while she’s here?”

  “No.” I’m not lying. Even if we have a mutual understanding, Abby isn’t part of this world. She wouldn’t understand, and it would hurt her. To be honest, since I’m only getting her for a week or two, I also don’t want to waste my time with someone else.

  “They’re not gonna be happy about that,” Bear says. “I’ll keep an eye on them.”

  “Thanks.” Club girls are used to sharing. It’s never a real issue. What they are not used to is not being included at all.

  “Not doing it for you. Her brownies are fucking delicious.”

  “What does she know about the club?” Lee asks nonchalantly. Except I know better.

  “The official version. I co-own the workshop, we have several legit businesses.”

  “Good. Keep it that way.”

  “Don’t worry. She’s not the kind to snoop.”

  The ding from the kitchen tells me our dinner is probably ready. I grab a tray and some water, then make my way upstairs. It’s weird when I walk inside my room and close the door, as if I just stepped into a different world. It’s still the clubhouse, it’s still the bedroom I’ve had for years, but the vibe is different. I left Abby watching TV, and I’m not surprised to see she picked an old X-Files episode.

  I’m surprised to see she’s fast asleep, though. She did seem tired, but I wasn’t expecting her to crash that way, especially with how nervous she was. She is cuddled on my side of the bed, which I don’t really mind. I managed to sleep on the other side the two other times we shared a bed, I figure I can do it again.

  I eat, and since I’m starving I’m not really mad to have her portion as well.

  I’m fucking tired too and I don’t linger, switching off the TV at the end of the episode and slipping into bed next to her. I pull her into my arms, her back to my chest. I inhale deeply, savoring the coconut scent lingering around me.

  I can’t remember the last time I had a girl in my bed and didn’t fuck her. Everything about today is weird. My impulsive decision to stop by her place, my even more impulsive proposition to bring her home with me, and now I have a girl in my bed who still hasn’t kissed me once s
ince I parked my bike in front of her bakery.

  I sleep like the dead. When I wake up, it’s dawn, and I’m still in the same position I was last night. Abby is warm against me, all soft and sweet in my arms. My nose is buried in her hair, savoring the scent of her shampoo like last night. I missed it. I know it makes me sound like a pussy, but yeah, I admit it, I missed the way her hair smells.

  I’m also hard. I ignore it, link my fingers through hers and let my forehead rest against the back of her shoulder. It takes a while before I’m fully awake, the long run having probably taken its toll on me more than I had first thought. Eventually, I press a kiss on her shoulder and untangle myself from her. She is exhausted and needs to rest.

  Maisie is in the kitchen when I go downstairs for breakfast. She welcomes me with a smile and a hug as she hands me a plate of eggs and bacon. She often comes on Monday mornings to send us off for the week with a homemade breakfast. It’s never anything fancy but it sure makes it easier after the weekend.

  “Poe told me you’d like me to meet someone?” she attacks as soon as my mouth is full of bacon.

  I roll my eyes. “Of course, he already told you,” I reply after having swallowed.

  With a grin, she takes a sip of her coffee, ignoring the other guys around the table who imitate the sound of a whip and a cat mewling. “She made the peanut butter cheesecake I found in the fridge?”

  “Yup. Everything.”

  “Tell her I want one like that. As for the rest, I’d like a selection. Roughly around thirty individual portions. If she can start delivering by Wednesday, eleven, that would be perfect. I make no promise, but that shit was good so I’m willing to try.”

  Maisie is a straight-to-the-point kind of old lady. That’s also probably why she fits in so well.

  She finishes her coffee while I polish off my food. She stands up and messes with my hair, something she knows annoys the crap out of me. “I have to say it’s good to have another old lady around.”

  “Abby is not my old lady,” I snort. “She’s not staying, just needed some fresh air. We get on well, so I figured I could keep her around for a week or two.”

  “If you say so.”

  Chapter 14

  Abby

  “The key is to have a supple hand,” I tell Bear as I show him how to scoop frosting and make it a nice dollop on top of the cupcake.

  “I’m just not good at this,” he grumbles, and I have to bite back a laugh at the way he frowns, like a kid forced to do his homework.

  To be fair, it’s a little bit accurate. I made a deal with him. He helps me, he gets free goodies before the rest of the guys can get their hands on them. I do feel a little guilty, though, because his gigantic paws do not make the job easy.

  It’s been four days since I woke up, alone, in Apa’s bed. My first delivery to the diner was two days ago, and Maisie called me later that day to tell me her customers loved what she had made them try. I’ve been crazy busy the whole week, which definitely helped my mood. I’m baking, people are enjoying what I make, and I’m making decent money too. It’s temporary and not a viable career but for now? It works for me. Apa was right. Getting away from Huntington and what I still see as my big failure - no matter how many times I’m told that I did nothing wrong - was exactly what I needed.

  It’s not easy to adjust, though. I am lucky because apparently everyone is working a lot this week. I have no idea where exactly, and I don’t ask. I’m not stupid. But that means I’m often alone. I wake up around three in the morning to use the kitchen when no one needs it, then I get ready for my day while they’re having breakfast. Once they’re gone, I head back downstairs and work on my order for the day for Maisie as well as a little extra for the clubhouse.

  I’m relatively alone, which fits me just fine.

  Except for one thing.

  I barely see Apa. We have completely opposite schedules. I go to bed around eight, while he’s usually busy in that room they call church, doing badass biker things I assume.

  We haven’t even had sex yet. When I wake up, he is sleeping next to me, but I have no idea if he just prefers to spend the night in his bed, or really hasn’t been with anyone.

  I also don’t dare to ask. And it holds me back. I could wait for him when I go upstairs, but I never do. I don’t want to risk seeing him coming to bed wearing another girl’s lipstick or smelling like her. Stupid me, I know. I just can’t help but wonder why he asked me to come with him if it’s to basically ignore me. I’m getting a little worked up thinking about Apa, and I take it out on the dough I’m kneading for the cinnamon rolls I plan to bake before heading to bed.

  OK, he doesn’t ignore me. He smiles at me, winks at me, makes sure I have everything I need, but I can also sense a distance. Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe he feels like me being asleep every time he walks into his room is a clear “no” signal and he respects it. Which is good. Respect is good.

  Confusing, but good.

  “Ugh,” I groan as I slam the dough on the counter. I turn around to face Bear, my head tilting in a scowl when I see he is mostly busy eating the chocolate frosting.

  “Sorry,” he mumbles as he makes a show of getting back to work.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Does Apa have an old lady or a regular girl?”

  Bear glances at me. “It’s not me you should ask.”

  Ouch. “Why the hell did he ask me to come if he has someone serious in his life?” I exclaim, lifting my flour-covered hands in the air.

  Bear sighs as he gently puts a cupcake on the tray next to him. I can see from the distance that he completely messed up the edges. “I say that because it’s a rule, here. We don’t get involved in people’s personal business. But I didn’t mean it as he does have someone. As far as I know, he doesn’t. Sure, we all have our usual club girls but… nothing serious. Better?”

  “No,” I say as I take a seat opposite him. “Why is he avoiding me?”

  “Jesus, who am I, Oprah?”

  “You want your brownies tomorrow?”

  “You’re kinda bitchy, you know.”

  “I know.”

  “He is a bit distracted. Club business, don’t ask,” he warns me sternly, and I understand it’s really better if I don’t push on that one. “Talk to him. He’s straight-forward, you know.”

  “That’s what worries me,” I admit as I grab the cupcake he ruined and unwrap it. I take a bite of it, nodding in appreciation. Perfect, not too sweet, with the good punch of dark, bitter chocolate.

  If the house is unusually empty, it’s not that no one is around. It’s just that compared to the evenings, where you easily have more than twenty people around, it seems eerily quiet with only a couple guys. Bear is often the one who stays, and I assume he has to be like the Hagrid of the Sinners. At least one prospect is always around too, and another brother, a different one every day. Except Apa.

  “I think he regrets having me here,” I say in a small voice.

  “Women,” he breathes out as he rolls his eyes. “If that were the case, your ass would be at the motel right now. Or at Maisie and Poe’s. I told you. He is straight-forward. You’re still here?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You still sleep in his room?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then he wants you around. End of the story.”

  I jump to my feet when I hear the sound of bikes and go back to my dough. The men seem cheerful, judging by the laughter and good-natured teasing that is making its way to us.

  “Bear, church. We got good news,” Poe says as welcome. “Hi, Abby.”

  “Hi,” I reply with a small wave. I see Apa behind him and my heart skips a beat.

  That makes me pause. Since when does my heart skip a beat when I see him?

  By the time their little meeting is done, the rolls are in the oven and I’m preparing the frosting. It smells delicious, and I hope the guys will like them. I’ve grown attached to them in a few da
ys. They keep a distance with me, which I understand because I’m not exactly part of the group. Still, they are nice and polite, and I already have my favorites. I have only seen Pinkie once or twice. Apparently, she spends most of her days at the workshop. Where Apa also is.

  Not that it drives me nuts to think about it. Nope. I’m not about to be jealous of a club girl. I’m a modern woman, we are not in a relationship. I’m cool. Everything is cool.

  I might want to slap the bitch every time I see her, but I swear it’s only because she said my banana muffins weren’t that great. I’m protective of my muffins.

  I startle a little when two strong arms slip around my waist. Apa drops a kiss in the crook of my neck and I relax against him.

  “I love cinnamon rolls.”

  “I know.”

  Am I making cinnamon rolls for him?

  Nah.

  Ha. Kidding. Of course, I am. He told me the way to a man’s heart is his dick or his stomach. I haven’t had access to the dick, so stomach it is.

  Wait. Since when do I want to get his heart? I think all these winks and smiles he gives me are going straight to my head. He’s way too charming for my own good.

  I’m saved from thinking too much about it when Apa presses a last kiss on my head then leans against the counter, watching me. He has one of the oatmeal and raisin cookies I left cooling on a rack in his hand. “These were not for you, you know.”

  He grins and shoves half of it in his mouth. He’s clearly in a good mood.

  “There’s a party tonight. It’s usual on Friday nights. I set the prospects to clean up the kitchen, but I’m not sure how well it’s going to work out for you. Thought I’d give you a warning. You might also want to get some earplugs, it gets crazy loud.”

  I stop then because… I know what kind of party he is talking about. I read all about it in my romance novels.

  “OK. Are you… are you going to attend?”

  “Attend,” he says with a laugh. “You sound so proper. The party starts as soon as everyone is home, which means in about thirty minutes. So, to answer your question, I am going to attend. And so are you.”