“I don’t want to talk to you,” she said, doing her best to appear unfazed, even though anxiety was grabbing at her throat. If the guy hurt her, he’d have to deal with the wrath of the Coffin Nails, but what difference would it make if she were hurt already?
“Why not? You seemed very eager for my cock the other night.” He leaned on the fence and grinned so widely his gold tooth showed in the weak glow coming from a few windows.
“Not anymore, and for your information, I’m the daughter of your new club president, so you better leave me alone,” she said, crouching behind Beast and hugging his neck. Her face was hot, and she was glad it was too dark for him to see the flush on her face.
“Oh, I know. And you wouldn’t want your daddy to know what you’re up to when he’s not around, would you? He’d lock you up at home. Or in a nut house or somethin’. All I want is another taste of your—”
“The fuck’s going on here?”
Just what she needed, the corpsepaint guy. Did they think they’d get to double team her in the goat shed or something? She was getting drenched with sweat from the stress. That was exactly why she’d rather not have guys like them interested in her. Would they really want to blackmail her into sex? What did she get herself into? How could her mother’s spell put her in this position? This couldn’t possibly be what the ritual demanded of her. Sick to her stomach, she slowly got to her feet, doing her best to keep from crumbling. Dad wouldn’t be happy with her, but this shithead had to recognize that the club president wouldn’t be happy with his new men either if he found out what they had done with his daughter.
Gold Tooth looked back at Corpsepaint. “What do you think? She’s ready for round two.”
Asty took a deep breath and unclenched her hands. “Get lost!”
Corpsepaint, or as she liked to think of him “The Hot One,” looked at her, but all he did was answer his friend. “Not with you she isn’t. I liked her more,” he said as if she was the last doughnut in the box and he didn’t want to share. Un-fucking-believable.
Gold Tooth sneered, and the moment his attention was off Asty, she started slowly, very slowly, backing away toward the shed. Each breath felt too loud as she watched the two men fight over her pussy.
“She fucked both of us. Can’t see a problem with banging her again. And it was my cock that prepared her for you. All you did was poke her the last few times.”
“The fuck? You think your cock’s made of gold or somethin’? You have to touch a woman right!”
Gold Tooth snorted. “And pray before you enter.”
Asty gritted her teeth, rushing behind the shed. She climbed over the fence, her breath hitching when a splinter pulled on her stocking. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She wanted to forget all about that night, so why was it haunting her?
“Oh, fuck you,” said the Hot One. “There are plenty club sluts who won’t mind dealing with your crap. She didn’t even want to kiss you, so why would she fuck you again?”
Asty didn’t want to listen anymore. She tiptoed to the nearest door and slipped inside the clubhouse. Only then did she feel safe enough to take a deep breath.
She attended the party, as her Dad wished, and now she was never going to return here for as long as those two pigs stuck around. Nobody could push her into something she didn’t want, but it still made her shudder with disgust to know there were people here who wanted to pressure her. She locked the door and walked down the corridor, straight toward the loud music coming from the lounge.
Asty
Asty took a deep breath, then another, filling her lungs with the calming, thick scent of the special candlesticks she made with herbs that encouraged spiritual reasoning. She inhaled once more and waved her hands over the nearest candle, fuming her face with the smoke. The sharp scent penetrated her nostrils, and soon enough, a sense of peace settled in her chest. She needed to relax, regroup, and find a solution that her conscious mind wouldn’t offer. The cards burned her palm, but just touching them always made her calm. She vaguely remembered her mother teaching her about the tarot a long time ago, and it stayed with her as a ritual that never failed to provide answers. She was doing it all for her brother, Beelzebub. Her big brother Bell ...
Now that she was safe in the quiet of her own room, away from the clubhouse and the rude fuckers who hadn’t deserved to be a part of a sacred ritual, she could focus on herself, and she slowly placed five cards on her reading table. The first two were Death, which corresponded to her present situation, and Rebirth, which did express Asty’s expectations. The cards were so right. She massaged the base of her nose and uncovered the third card. Lovers. Reversed. Well, there would be a lot of disharmony in her future. She was sure of that.
A rustling somewhere behind Asty made her cat, Behemoth, hiss and skitter under the bed. She looked to the window and screamed at the sight of an arm, and then Hot One’s head, which emerged out of the darkness like the demon she had originally thought he was.
“Chill, chill! It’s just me,” he said with a cocky grin and climbed up to the windowsill. She was too stunned to act at first, so the fucker stood on her carpet in no time. “Nice place you’ve got here.” He looked around her room as if he had the right to be here.
Asty placed the deck on the table as slowly as she could and tried not to lose her cool as this pig broke into the sanctuary of her room, the one space she always felt safe in. He crawled inside, and the Coffin Nails patch at the back of his cut made Asty shudder with humiliation. She had slept with her Dad’s men, and she’d always promised herself not to go for a biker at that.
“You didn’t bring your friend this time?” she asked, clenching her lips, as she searched the room for a weapon.
The guy waved his hand dismissively and scooted down to have a look at Behemoth, who only hissed at the uninvited guest from under the bed. “Nah, that shithead? No way. That’s why I came. I didn’t want to leave a bad impression.” He looked at her from below, and she realized he was peeking under the oversize T-shirt she wore to bed.
Asty closed her thighs, breathing hard, and decided to defend herself with the small metal lamp on her reading table, were this to go downhill. “You think this is the way to not leave a bad impression? Breaking into someone’s house? I told you I’m not interested,” she said as somberly as she could.
He got up, reminding her just how much taller than her he was. “Oh, come on, I just want to get to know you better. You blew my mind the other night. I’m Hunter, by the way.”
Asty wasn’t sure if she wanted to blow anyone’s mind at this point. She was a woman of purpose, and she wasn’t interested in any relationship, romantic or otherwise. And even if she were, his invading her privacy like this didn’t make him a suitable candidate, no matter how good his cock felt inside her. Life wasn’t on the to do list anymore.
She leaned back and froze when she sensed the cool touch against her hand. The ceremonial dagger. She had it in her purse, and it was right next to her! Relief washed through her as she watched Hunter’s every move, with her heart beating furiously.
“I told you I’m not interested. This wasn’t about sex. It was a ritual, and you have nothing to do with it!”
Hunter frowned and raised his hand with the cut on its inner side. “I think I have a lot to do with it.”
Asty scowled, remembering the scent of his blood against her nose. “Well, you had an orgasm, isn’t that enough? No matter what you think, I’m not some crazy nympho!”
Hunter wrapped his arms on his chest. “You seemed pretty eager to me.”
Asty swallowed hard, feeling a flush emerge on her face. “I was a virgin until that night. I wasn’t there for the sex.” There, that should scare him off.
His lips parted, and his thick dark eyebrows came closer in a frown. She was waiting for something snarky to come out of his mouth, but for a good long moment, there was nothing.
“A virgin?” he finally muttered and leaned on her tabletop with his fine ass.
Why was he still here? Asty blinked, slowly pulling the ritual knife out of her bag underneath the card-reading table and hid it in the long sleeve of the hoodie she wore on top of the T-shirt. “Yes. Why are we even having this conversation?” she asked, embarrassed. Of course, she was the only person who’d lose their V to two complete strangers.
“I mean … You have to be shitting me? It’s kind of an unlikely way to lose your virginity. And you didn’t seem virginal to me. No offense.” Hunter raised his hands with a silly grin.
“What does that even mean?” she hissed, feeling offended. Of course.
“You know. You didn’t seem to be in pain, or bleeding, or whatever. Come on. You took two cocks in a row, babe. A virgin can’t do that.” He reached out with that sexy smile glued to his face and put his hand on her hip.
“Oh, because you know so much about popping cherries,” she said, leaning away from him.
“I’m no expert.” He spread his arms. “But I do know a thing or two.”
“For your information, a girl doesn’t need a man’s help to get rid of her hymen. All she needs is a vibrator,” said Asty, proud of having the upper hand. “There’s nothing magical about it.” But it had been, even though she would have rather lost her virginity to Hunter than his idiot friend if she had had a choice. At least Hunter seemed to know what he was doing. Just the memory of how he had pulled her up into his lap to fuck her, how steadily he had held her, made her need to look away, afraid he’d read it from her eyes.
“Oh yeah? You’ve got a lot of vibrators? Wanna show me?” He leaned closer, and his scent, so earthy and fresh, made her knees weaken.
Asty’s gaze darted to her bed and then to the pink toy she had left on the nightstand before leaving for the club party. Her brain exploded with shame, and as she saw him smile in recognition, she darted to the bed and grabbed the vibrator. She could hardly catch her breath when she noticed him approaching, and she did the only thing that came into her mind. She threw the toy out through the open window and regretted the rash decision the moment it happened.
Hunter’s eyes went wide, and he started laughing. “Oh. Wow. That’s gonna be fun for your neighbor’s dog.”
“Shut up. I’m not some crazy nympho witch, and I’m not your type. You should go,” she repeated as calmly as possible, even though her heart sped up when he came closer with his long hair, angular face, and broad shoulders. He even smelled so nice. And she would never admit it, but she’d fantasized about him many times in the last few days.
“Pierced, compact, with a nasty mouth, perfect tits, and looks sexy even in an old T-shirt. I think you’re very much my type.” Hunter leaned down, and only after a second, she realized he wanted to kiss her.
She was unaware of the short blade leaving her oversized sleeve until she held it to Hunter’s chest as she tried to catch her breath. “I told you I’m not interested. Are you stupid?” she uttered, angry there was a bit of a tremble in her voice.
Hunter’s pupils widened, and in one quick move, he grabbed her wrist behind the blade, and then grabbed her other hand when she tried to punch him. “What changed your mind? Did I lose my charm without the corpsepaint? Admit it, you loved every second my cock was inside of you,” he whispered, and instead of pushing her away, he pulled her closer.
“I did not!” she shrieked, frantic as she realized she couldn’t possibly overpower him. She had a weapon, but without the freedom to move her hand, it was useless. “It was a one-time thing. I don’t want anything from you. Let me go, or my father will know you’re stalking me!”
Hunter squeezed her wrist so hard she had to drop the dagger, and then he let her go with a huff. “At least I’m not a liar. I loved fucking you like no other girl before. You’re fucking twisted, but it turns me on.” He tapped her forehead with his finger and stepped away. “But if you want me to go, I’ll go. Just don’t lie to yourself, babe. It was the best sex you’ve ever had. I know it’s not a hard with just Ray for comparison, but still …” He shrugged and grinned, walking backward toward the window.
There was a twitch to her lips at the dig at Gold Tooth, who was apparently called Ray, but Asty made sure no smile would come to the surface. “You weren’t as good as my vibrator,” she said as a sendoff, but she was lying. Nothing compared to having a warm, pulsing dick pound into her, strong hands holding her in place, and a sexy mouth suckling on her lips. Regardless, the sooner he forgot about her, the better. He was far too hot for her own good. The touch to her forehead still burned, even after he stepped away.
“You gotta let me practice then,” he said, already halfway through the window.
Asty slumped against the wall, curling her hands into fists in the overly long sleeves. That comment was the worst. “Do I look like a dummy to you? You’re such a pig. No wonder you joined a club called Rabid Hogs,” she said, knowing it would hurt his pride because the Hogs were no more thanks to her Dad and his men.
And there it was, the cocky grin drained from his face, and he eyed her with his lips clenched. “You know nothing about that, silly girl.” He didn’t even wait for an answer and climbed down the drainpipe.
Asty couldn’t help the slight pang of guilt at the thought of hurting him, and she drifted to the window despite part of her wanting to show Hunter the finger.
Words grew in Asty’s throat as she watched him jump to the grass and walk to the gate that would lead him to the front garden and into the street. “You asked for it,” she called out, just loud enough for him to hear it, without alerting the neighbors.
He leaned down to pick up something from the ground, and Asty froze when she realized it was her vibrator. Hunter turned around to her. “As Priest’s daughter, I bet you know ‘hog’ stands for a Harley bike. Or are you too busy using this three times a day to absorb any knowledge?” He made a show of smelling the toy. “I better take it so you don’t hurt yourself.”
She was speechless, and even as rage squeezed at her muscles, she couldn't help but be attracted to his cocky behavior. He was just the guy she didn’t want to have anything to do with in real life. “Pig. And a thief,” she said in the end.
He flashed her a short grin, but she couldn’t see his eyes anymore. He put the vibrator into an inner pocket in his jacket, but just as she thought he would disappear from her sight, he had to get the last word.
“Just use your fingers, babe! I can show you sometime!”
Without waiting for an answer, he rushed past the gate and out of her sight.
She groaned and hit the windowsill with her forehead. This guy was unbelievable, but at least he left eventually and didn’t try to force his touch. She stumbled into her chair, sinking into the soft upholstery and allowing herself a deep, slow inhale as the sound of an engine vibrated across her skin from the other side of the house. The smell of Hunter’s cologne still lingered in the air, only enhanced by the herby aroma of the candles, and she couldn’t help but reminisce about the strength in his hands when they grasped her wrists, the scent of his long hair, and the dark tattoos covering most of the skin on show.
She could use that vibrator right now.
Hunter
Visiting Lucky’s barbershop was Hunter’s idea of trying to fish for information about Astaroth. Just because she had been rude the other night didn’t mean she wouldn’t bed him again. Chicks did that all the time.
He knew Astaroth’s brother owned the salon, and he still cringed when he remembered what he’d said about Lucky the other night. He was trying to make conversation, and nothing else had come to his mind. Befriending the guy might be a way to get into her good graces. Hunter and she had ridiculous amounts of chemistry, and she had to feel that, too. Not to mention that the whole “ritual” thing intrigued him to no end. What a way to lose her virginity. His fling with a hangaround at the Rabid Hogs clubhouse seemed like nothing in comparison.
Even though he was a Coffin Nail now, he didn’t exactly feel like one just yet. He and Ray had ever
yone’s eyes on them, and staying in a small room at the Nails’ clubhouse had been so suffocating in the last few days that he went out for long drives around Detroit whenever he had the chance, just to breathe some air. The Coffin Nails had his uncle, the Rabid Hogs president, Head, and his VP assassinated with no mercy after a deal between them went sour. Truth be told, Hunter secretly thought they got what was coming to them. Many of the Hogs guys wanted to be patched over into a big, lucrative club like the Coffin Nails, and they didn’t care about stupid shit like the VP of the Nails being gay or that they’d have to give up their Hog patches. What they saw was a chance to be part of an international club, more prestige, more money, more pussy, and club rallies all over the US.
As fallout of the conflict, after the deaths and the patch over, he and Ray, as Head’s nephew and son, had been “invited” to stay in the Nails’ Detroit clubhouse for a year. They weren’t guests. They were potential hostages if anything went sour. Not a comfortable thought when Hunter went to sleep. Still, a part of him was relieved he didn’t have his uncle ordering him around anymore, even if he’d never say that to Ray, who held a grudge the size of Mount Everest and burned with a need for revenge as hot as hellfire. Hunter was as at ease with what had happened as one could be in an environment that still felt slightly hostile. He just needed to make sure to extinguish the fire in Ray so the brash idiot wouldn’t do anything stupid and get himself killed.
Sure, Ray was a pig-headed brute, but they had grown up together, and it was enough that his father was dead. Maybe without Head baiting him, Ray could become a saner individual. As long as Ray stayed away from Astaroth, they’d be good. They’d always had an agreement about not going after the same girls, but the lines got blurred the moment they both banged Astaroth.
Located right next to the hair and beauty salon owned by Priest, Lucifer’s Barber Shop was a little retro gem. The logo with the face of a demon that decorated the floor-length window at the entrance set the tone of the establishment even before Hunter opened the glass door and entered the compact space, decorated with black and white tiles on the walls and livened up with red accents here and there. There was a big mirror over the waiting area with a comfortable-looking sofa and a framed picture that presented some of the satisfied customers with their barber. It looked like a million dollars, and when Hunter’s eyes grazed over the self-service coffee maker, he knew he’d not only get his intel here but also enjoy himself while he was at it.
Split - Coffin Nails MC (Contemporary New Adult Erotic Dark Romance) (Sex & Mayhem Book 7) Page 4