Wicked

by KB Winters

  Wheeler stood and said what we were all thinking. “Are a bunch of petty burglaries really worth our time? Or our wrath?”

  The MC had already been through too much shit since its formation, and though Gunnar was confident in our abilities, we had more shit to think about now. It wasn’t just us, just a bunch of beaten and battered vets looking for a place to belong in this fucked up world. No, now it was families as well.

  Gunnar smacked his fist against the table, drowning out words of agreement coming from around the room with one angry glare.

  “We’re here now. And Opey is our town to protect. It’s our job to keep it safe. Opey has opened up its arms to our MC, our members’ club, The Barn Door, and even the police and Mayor are on our side. We don’t want to fuck that up.”

  It seemed a bit melodramatic to me, but Gunnar’s grave expression said he believed it with all his heart.

  If he believed it, then I believed him. I raised a finger to get his attention. “So we have to find these guys. And then what?”

  “We’ll figure that out when the time comes.”

  Gunnar was turning out to be an excellent leader, but he wasn’t one for much advanced planning. That didn’t sit right with me. Growing up in Opey and living on a ranch most of my life before joining the military, plans were a way of life around here. You had to plan the pasture for the cattle, the crops you intended to grow for the new season. Whether it was harvesting, canning, vaccinations, and even meals, you thought everything out, so life ran like the perfect machine.

  Gunnar’s approach would take some getting used to.

  “Problem, Holden?”

  Gunnar was in a mood, and I understood. I’d be in a mood, too, if I had to leave the bed of a warm woman to deal with this shit.

  “Yeah. This lack of planning shit is why we’re in this trouble now. Let’s say we find a pair of burglars tonight. Are we just taking photos? Grabbing one of them? Both of them? Where are we taking them? Because I gotta tell ya, another middle of the night run with a fuckin’ body in the trunk ain’t my idea of a good night.”

  It was a necessary move that last time, burying the dead brother in the desert between Opey and Mexico, but not one I was eager to repeat. Hell, I was a rancher, not a fuckin’ criminal.

  Gunnar looked around the room, seeing half a dozen heads nodding in agreement. He waited a beat, then sighed heavily. “Fine. We find them tonight, we grab them. All of ’em.”

  “All right!” Wheeler clapped his hands eagerly and smiled around the table. “Saint and Slayer had the magic touch last time, so let’s have them take the first shift. Right?”

  “Fine by me,” Slayer added and smacked Saint on the back. “We made a good team, and it’s nice to see the quiet one get fired up.”

  Saint flipped him off, drawing laughter from the rest of the room, because when we weren’t running a sex club or dealing with our demons or keeping our little pocket of Texas safe, we were, at heart, a bunch of silly teenage boys. The only difference? Our scars weren’t just on the outside.

  “Good,” Gunnar said, his deep growl slicing through the muted conversations and laughter around the room. “Holden will take over for Saint at the club. Dismissed.” He lifted the metal-studded gavel and smacked it right over Lady Mayhem’s face, engraved in the table. Then he issued an order. “Holden. A minute.”

  “Oooh, Mah-Dick is in trouble,” Cruz teased, using the nickname I hated, given to me because of all the heat I packed behind my zipper.

  I flipped Cruz off and stayed standing while the room emptied until it was just me and Gunnar left. And his perma-scowl. “What’s up?”

  “What’s your fucking problem?” Gunnar worked hard to be intimidating, and he could be a scary motherfucker. But I grew up on a ranch and then went straight to the US army, which meant I didn’t scare or intimidate easily.

  “My problem is that you want us to risk our lives, but you don’t have a fucking plan, man. Wasn’t the shit last month enough?”

  He didn’t look moved at all as he dropped down in his seat at the head of the table. “That’s what we do, Holden. I thought you understood.”

  “I do. But you have to keep earning that trust we all give you, man. You can’t go off half-cocked ‘cause you’re pissed off. What if something happens to Saint tonight? What will you tell Hazel? Hell, how will you be able to live with yourself knowing you didn’t do all you could to keep your men safe? What if you fucking end up in jail?”

  “What do you suggest? That we do nothing? ‘Cause we tried that shit, and it backfired in spectacular fashion,” Gunnar boomed.

  “Dammit, Gunnar, you know that’s not what I’m sayin’. What do you hope to gain if we find these assholes tonight because you haven’t even said where they should be taken? Back on the property? Someplace else?” I let out a deep breath and dropped down in my seat. “I’m with you Gunnar, and I support you, but this ain’t your old club. We don’t have that history. Half of us don’t even know what the fuck we’re doing. You have to think and plan like a leader. Whatever happens to any of us will fall on your shoulders. It’s a heavy burden, one I don’t wish on my worst enemy. Never mind a friend.”

  He mulled my words over for a few minutes, nodding absently as he collected his thoughts. “You’re right. Shit, you’re right. I need to do better. And I will. Thanks.”

  I flashed a slow grin, the one Wheeler called my Cowboy Smile and stood again. “Does this mean you’ll find someone else to replace Saint?”

  I didn’t have a problem with The Barn Door, but the club wasn’t my scene, and I didn’t like being there.

  “Nah. Watching your big ass cowboy body move through the crowds like they’re contagious and search for a way to turn down all those horny bitches is way too amusing. On the plus side, we’ll be working together tonight.”

  He stood and clapped me on the back like that was a good thing.

  “Great, so I’ll be covering the whole damn place while you steal off with Peaches for an hour or two?”

  “Nah, I know how much you hate working The Barn Door, so I’ll just make it an hour.”

  “Gee, how generous of you, Boss.”

  Gunnar barked out a laugh. He made his way to the door, and I followed. “Hey, we’re trying to make a baby, and it takes plenty of practice.”

  My laugh trailed behind Gunnar as he climbed the stairs to the top level of the club. “If you need that much practice, you’re doin’ it wrong. I got some pointers if you want.”

  Gunnar laughed again as he locked up the doors, turning to smile up at the sun-streaked sky. “My woman has no complaints.”

  “That you’ve heard,” I mumbled, making him laugh as we hopped on the last available four-wheelers and headed to our separate quarters. I had a few hours to myself to handle chores on the ranch before my shift later, which meant I had time for a few fortifying beers before I clocked in.

  Chapter Two

  Aspen

  Date night. It was something every woman looked forward to, especially when their date was a gorgeous blond who drove a BMW the same color blue as her eyes. At least that was how I used to feel about Ken. We’d been dating for about a year now, but lately, things like getting ready for date night felt more dutiful than fun.

  Tonight, for example, I’d be more than happy to Netflix and Chill. What the hell was so wrong with having a night in once in a while, anyway? Sometimes a girl just needed to put on sexy lingerie under a pair of yoga pants and a loose t-shirt, just in case there was more chill than Netflix going on.

  But Ken had other plans.

  The Barn Door. Though we were in the heart of Texas, complete with cowboys, saloons, and people who tipped their hats at me and called me ma’am, this was no line dancing bar. Nope, it was a sex club.

  My boyfriend wanted to take me to a sex club instead of staying home for guaranteed good-time sex. If that wasn’t a sign that something was wrong in our relationship, then I didn’t know what was.

  But with t
hat thought lingering in the back of my head, I dressed carefully for our date. If our problems were sex-related, then the right outfit and a little bit of public fun would turn things right around. I hoped so, anyway. Which is why I opted for the tiniest pair of lace, high-cut red panties I could find. They showed off an ass that was the result of regular Pilates and kickboxing. The matching bra made my tits look big and high and perky, just the way Ken liked them. Now the question was, did I wear something sexy but demure on the outside or just go all out sex kitten?

  In the end, I chose a black lace peekaboo dress that showed more skin than it covered because I didn’t want to hear Ken bitching about me dressing like a school teacher. Last I checked, teachers didn’t wear lace dresses, but he was the expert.

  “Babe?” The front door of our apartment opened a second before Ken’s voice sounded, calling out to me like I was his little housewife.

  As if.

  “In here!”

  I loved Ken, at least I was pretty sure I did, but we were definitely going through a rut. A big fucking rut about as wide and as deep as the great state of Texas. Maybe this Barn Door place would help. Not that it mattered because there was no fucking way on God’s green earth I was letting him go to that place alone. He’d get lost in the sea of pussy and might not emerge for days.

  Maybe weeks.

  He walked into the bedroom, and his gaze immediately lasered in on my tits, which were almost complete cleavage thanks to the push-up bra.

  “Damn Aspen, you look hot as fuck. How about a quick BJ before we head out?”

  Wasn’t that just fuckin’ romantic?

  “How about a quick sixty-nine instead?”

  We were going to a sex club after all, and maybe that was what we needed, to be primed and horny when we got there. If nothing else, I’d be relaxed, but that wouldn’t happen because Ken had one fatal flaw. He had an aversion to oral sex, giving it, not receiving. Clearly.

  “Ah, babe.” He rubbed the back of his hand, a tell when he was lying, and flashed his most charming grin, the one that had reeled me right in that night at The Dirty Spur. “But you’re all dressed and ready to go.”

  “But you’re okay with messing up my makeup which took me longer to put on than the whole damn outfit?”

  Now it was my turn to smile my best Miss Texas bless-your-poor-stupid-heart smile in his direction, licking my lips just in case he forgot that he was lucky to have me.

  “I guess not.” His shoulders slumped as he pushed off the wall, the posture of a spoiled child being told no. “You ready to go?”

  Hell, no, I wasn’t ready, but it was too late to back out. “Yep. Let’s go,” my tone more upbeat than I felt. But what good would it do me to get all sullen at the start of our big night out?

  We drove over in silence. We didn’t even play music. Well, not on the radio. Ken’s fingers, however, tapped a quick two-step on the steering wheel nonstop. For miles.

  “Ken, what’s wrong?”

  “What do you mean, babe? Everything’s fine.” He shot me a distracted smile. It worried me, but I was more relieved that his late nights without me weren’t because of another woman.

  “You’re tapping your hands like you’re a nervous wreck. Is everything all right?” As soon as the question was out, his hands stopped, and he gripped the wheel hard enough to whiten his knuckles.

  He turned back to me with a wide, sweet smile. It was the smile that made me say yes to a second date, equal parts charming and earnest. “You’re the best, babe,” he said. “You know that? Thanks for asking about my day.”

  “Of course. So?”

  Ken was always vague about his work, but we lived in a nice apartment. I didn’t have to dip into my trust fund to pay for it, which was probably the only reason my daddy hadn’t strung him up by his ankles yet. Ken worked from home, taking business calls at all hours. Some days I thought maybe he was a lawyer or accountant for the mob, but Ken wasn’t that kind of man. He was more J. Crew than henchmen, but sometimes…I wondered.

  “Just some bullshit at work. Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about.” His grin was condescending, but I let him get away with it for now because it was easier than fighting.

  And then going inside a sex club. That was a recipe for bad decisions and deep regrets. “If you say so.”

  “I do, babe.” He reached out and ran his thumb along the line of my jaw in what was supposed to be a soothing gesture, but it just made me feel like a child.

  I jerked out of his touch and turned to face him. It was time for the talk before we got to the club. “We should set some boundaries for tonight.”

  He gave me some serious side-eye and laughed. “Boundaries? Babe, we’re going to a sex club. The whole point is no boundaries.”

  I wasn’t even surprised at his response. Annoyed for sure, but not surprised. “So you’re all right with me taking two guys at once even if neither of them is you?”

  “You wouldn’t do that, Aspen. You never even let me in your back door.” He licked his lips and ground his hips with a groan. “No matter how much I beg.”

  “I already told you I would.”

  He snorted. Derisively. “Yeah, if I lick your pussy. You know I don’t do that.”

  “And you know that I do.”

  It was an argument we’d been having since our fourth date. I’d given him a world-class blow job, the kind that makes a man do that nervous laughter thing uncontrollably, and he’d slipped inside of me and come in two minutes.

  “So…what I’m hearing is that you’ll do what you want and I’ll do the same?” I said.

  I didn’t want to have sex with another man, but maybe that was what this relationship needed. Maybe it was the reminder I needed to figure out what to do and where to go next.

  “What I’m saying is we should both do what feels right.” He gave me a smug grin that almost made my skin crawl.

  He’d probably try to push me into some girl on girl action for his viewing pleasure. I wasn’t opposed to having a little fun with another woman. I experimented in college, just like everybody else, but it was the pressure I objected to. Some days I dreamed about leaving him for a woman just to piss him off.

  “Good,” I said, ending the talk. “I think so, too.”

  In fact, the more I thought about it, the more that sounded like an excellent idea.

  ***

  The Barn Door wasn’t so bad. It didn’t look like a sex dungeon or any weird shit, well if you didn’t include all the people in various states of undress. I was probably overdressed given all the women bouncing around in nothing but lingerie, mostly leather and lace. A few brave women wore a combination of both, giving off the perfect Madonna-whore vibe.

  The music was loud, pulsing, throbbing. Sexy as hell, in fact. The lighting was dim enough to lower my inhibitions without being creepy or making me feel unsafe. Actually, it was kind of fancy.

  So far, I wasn’t regretting the decision to check out The Barn Door, then again Ken left to go to the bathroom as soon as we got here. I knew public restroom lines could be insane, but this was ridiculous.

  But I refused to be one of those girlfriends. Not tonight, damn him. So I strolled over to the long wooden bar up front because it had beautiful brass embellishments and a big burly bartender who looked like he wouldn’t take any shit. That was exactly who I wanted nearby in case any of these horny men got the wrong idea.

  Five minutes later, I managed to slide up to the bar. And waited. And waited. The petite, dark-haired woman laughed and bantered while she mixed drinks for a middle-aged foursome. The big burly guy had his head down as he pulled a handle on a draft.

  “What can I get ya?” he asked, his voice deep and alluring with a touch of gruff.

  “I’ll have a cosmopolitan and a Jameson, neat.”

  A smart woman would make Ken get his own damn drink for leaving me alone like this.

  “A Cosmo,” he grumbled and looked up with a smile that was more of a grimace a
s he handed two beers to a young couple. “Of course. Comin’ right up.”

  The good looking ones were always assholes, and I already had one of those, but there was something about the big man that wasn’t just appealing. He was familiar. Vaguely familiar, like maybe we crossed paths at a bar or coffee shop.

  He was tall, well over six feet with broad shoulders that tapered down to a very slim waist. Even though his chambray was half un-tucked, the big man moved like he was well-built, like he used his body to earn a living. An athlete maybe, though in these parts it was more likely he was a cowboy.

  I gave up cowboys a long time ago, yet in a strange twist of irony, ended up a stone’s throw away from hometown. “What’s wrong with a Cosmo?”

  Still, he didn’t look up, just mixed the drinks and slid them across the bar.

  “Nothin’ at all. Cash or tab?”

  It took a moment for his words to register, and even when they did, I didn’t understand. “Excuse me?”

  “Are you paying cash or putting it on your member’s tab?” His tone was annoyed and when I looked up, and up, and up, it was into a pair of dark, sapphire blue eyes that looked more than a little familiar. Especially when they were filled with intense emotion like they were now. His nostrils flared. “Well?”

  “Um, cash, I guess.” I didn’t even know if Ken had a membership here. I wondered how he got us in here in the first place.

  My dress contained one little pocket that was just big enough for ID and three fifty-dollar bills. Not even lip gloss. “Just a second.”

  “Hazel. Cash.” That was it, just two barked words, and he walked to the other end of the bar, leaving the brunette to finish my transaction.

  “Sorry about that.”

  The girl named Hazel said, “No worries. A dress that gorgeous shouldn’t have to deal with messy lines.” She winked and quickly made change, leaning in close as she handed me the change. “First timer? Take one big sip and then start walking around. Every time you feel overwhelmed, take another sip until you relax. You don’t have to join, just watch the action around you. And have fun.” She smiled and turned to take care of the next customer.