by S. Nelson
“You hard of hearin’? I asked if you’re fuckin’ him,” she repeated, haughtily crossing her arms over her chest and pushing her fake tits up higher.
“Who are you talking about?”
“Tripp.”
“You know him?”
“Oh, honey.” She laughed. “I know him real well.” She winked and licked her thin lips, dropping her arms to her sides before stepping closer. “I fucked him so many times I’ve ruined him for any other bitch.”
If Arianna weren’t such a nasty person she’d actually be attractive. Close to my five foot eight, she had a nice build, although she’d gone a little overboard with her implants. Only my opinion, of course. She also caked on the makeup, something I thought was a waste of time because the men weren’t too concerned with our faces. She wore wigs like the rest of us, but the first time I saw her natural reddish hair, all thick and wavy, I’d been jealous. That was until she opened her mouth and snapped at me, asking why I was leering at her. Ever since then I’d tried my best to stay clear of her whenever we worked the same shift, but she always seemed to seek me out for her own amusement.
“Well?” she pressed when I remained silent.
“I just met him.” I had no idea why I gave that answer, but I couldn’t think of anything but the truth.
“Well, he won’t want your simple ass anyway, so don’t even bother.”
I chose not to engage, pushing past her and grabbing my purse and bag from the bench, along with Tripp’s vest.
As soon as Arianna’s eyes latched onto his leather, she gave me the nastiest look. “You just met him? Then why do you have his cut?”
“His what?”
“His cut,” she sneered, pointing at the vest in my hand.
“He gave it to me until I got changed.” I hadn’t wanted to continue the conversation, but I found myself babbling on nonetheless.
“Well, since I’m going home with him tonight, I’ll give it back to him.” She reached out and tried to snatch it from my hands but I moved back, clutching his property tightly. A possessiveness I’d never encountered before took over. I couldn’t explain it and I didn’t have time to, not before Arianna stepped closer and tried to grab the vest once more. Thankfully, Carla interrupted us; otherwise, I had no idea what would have happened. I’d already endured enough that evening, and another fight was the last thing I needed.
“Arianna, you’re not done with your shift. Let’s go,” Carla demanded, pointing toward the door for her to leave.
“Fine,” she scoffed, “but remember who he’ll be fuckin’ later, sweetheart.” She narrowed her eyes, trying her best to intimidate me before knocking into me on her way out the door.
“What the hell was that all about?” Carla’s compassion for me was comforting, but I was tired and the only thing I wanted to do was leave. End this night and lose myself to sleep until the dawn promised a new day.
“I have no idea,” I lied, not wanting to explain because I didn’t completely understand myself.
Following Carla, I walked across the main room until I stood behind Tripp. He didn’t know I was there, as was apparent by his conversation with whoever was on the other end of the phone.
“That’s fine. Yeah, I don’t care. Whatever you need.” He sighed. “I said I don’t care.” Those were his final words before he hung up. Tucking his cell away, he turned around and practically bowled me over since I’d been standing so close. He looked confused for a moment, grabbing a strand of my hair and twirling it around his fingers. I’d removed my wig, my long chestnut color clearly a surprise to him.
“I was beginning to think I’d have to come and collect you.” No smile traced his lips that time, which led me to believe he was completely serious. Did he not trust that I’d leave the club on my own accord? That he’d have to personally escort me out? And why was he insistent on driving me home? Why not just put me out and be done with me? I’d just met this man, yet already he confused the hell out of me with not only the way he looked at me but the way he made me feel. I should’ve been infuriated with him for firing me, but I wasn’t. Well . . . I was, but I also wanted to spend more time with him, defying all reason and logic.
Placing his hand on the small of my back, he guided me toward the exit. Before we made it, though, Arianna came out of nowhere and grabbed Tripp’s arm. “I’ll see you later, baby,” she fussed, glaring at me quickly before looking back at Tripp. Before he could answer, she pressed her nasty lips to his and strolled away.
A twinge of jealousy roared through me as I put one foot in front of the other rather quickly and walked farther away from Tripp. I should have known he wasn’t going to let me get too far ahead of him, the feel of his hand on my waist annoying yet comforting.
“I don’t know what she’s talking about,” he said, pushing the door open for me.
Without looking back, I responded. “None of my business. Just like it’s none of your business who I go home with.” Being snarky wasn’t a trait of mine, but I found it came in quite handy just then.
I half expected him to come back with a retort but he remained silent. I knew my comment bothered him, though; I could just feel it.
The darkness of the evening was a perfect shield, so I kept my eyes straight ahead while we walked side by side across the large parking lot. I had no idea where I was going, but I kept on anyway. Eventually, I’d figure it out. The motel I was staying at was only a mile down the road. Worst-case, I’d walk the entire way, although the heels I had on would kill my feet before I made it there.
“I’m parked over here,” Tripp announced, grabbing my hand and hauling me toward a motorcycle. Once we neared his ride, I shook my head and retreated. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m not gettin’ on that,” I refused, pointing toward the hunk of steel. “I’ll find my own way back.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” Reaching out his hand, he waited for me to come closer, but I never did.
“I don’t want to.” No way was I going to straddle that machine. There was absolutely no protection between me and the pavement if something went wrong. Helmets only helped to protect the head from being crushed. What about the rest of my body? I just couldn’t trust my safety to a complete stranger, even though said stranger was most likely an excellent rider. Fate had lashed out at me enough during my life, I wasn’t about to tempt the fickle bitch and simply hope for the best.
While I was caught up inside my own head, he pulled his phone out and dialed a number. “Get out here. In the parking lot. I need your keys. Because I said so.” He hung up, not once taking his eyes from me. Moments later, the door swung open and a man walked straight for us. He was good-looking, his dark hair the same shade as Tripp’s, and the closer he came the more I could see a resemblance between the two.
“How am I getting home?” the man asked, throwing me a smile before tossing his keys at Tripp, staggering to the side before righting himself.
“I’ll have someone come get you.”
“Why don’t you just let me take your bike?” His jumbled words gave away that he was a little more than tipsy.
“Because, brother or not, I’d have to kill ya if you put a scratch on my bike. Seeing as how your ass is drunk and all.”
“I’m not drunk. Just feelin’ nice,” he blabbered, winking at me before turning his attention back to Tripp.
“Shut the fuck up and get back inside.” Tripp stepped closer and whispered something in his brother’s ear before ushering him back toward the club. Turning around, he strolled toward me, grasped my hand and led me toward a dark-colored truck. “I would’ve introduced you, but he’s not in any shape not to be crass, or even remember he met you for that matter. It’d just be a waste of time.”
Opening the passenger door, he waited until I’d slid inside and buckled up before rounding the vehicle to his side. Turning over the engine, he drove across the lot and came to a dead stop at the edge, glancing over at me for directions.
“Take a right. My motel is a mile down the road.” I settled into my seat and waited for him to propel the truck forward, but we remained immobile. “What?” I asked, admiring his profile during the ensuing silence, losing myself to the image of his chiseled jaw and slight stubble.
“The Buckshot Motel? That’s where you’re staying?” he asked incredulously, turning on the interior light and shaking his head before peppering me with more questions. “How long have you been there? And why . . . why in God’s name would you choose that place? Do you know what a cesspool it is? Of course you do, but what I can’t figure out is why you’re staying there.” He rambled on until he wasn’t even directing his words at me any longer. His demeanor was borderline snobby, which was quite comical coming from someone who looked like him. He was the furthest thing from uppity, yet he took it upon himself to condemn the only place I could afford, essentially making me feel worse about my predicament.
“Well?” he asked, raising his voice as if I hadn’t been paying attention the entire time.
“Yes, I’m staying there, and it’s because I can’t afford anywhere else. I’ve just moved here and I had a whopping fifty bucks to my name. I was lucky to find a job right away, so at least I wasn’t out on the streets.” Turning my body toward him so he didn’t miss the angry look on my face, I continued, “But now you’ve gone and fired me—for something that wasn’t my fault, I might add—so now it’s a great possibility that I’ll be homeless in a few weeks if I don’t find another place to work. So thanks for that.” The more I spoke, the angrier I became, although I tried to rein in my temper because my feet were killing me and the thought of walking a mile in the dark in these damn heels was too much. If I watched my tone maybe he’d follow through and give me a ride back to the ‘cesspool.’
We stared at each other, the slight tick of his jaw and squint of his eyes telling me something was going on inside that gorgeous head of his. He bit his lower lip, and I wanted nothing more than to dislodge it from his straight white teeth and suck on it. Oh my God! What is wrong with me?
Moving my body to face the front once again, I said, “Please just take me home.”
“Home?” he scoffed, flicking off the light before pressing on the gas and turning left.
“Where are you going? I said to take a right.”
“You’re not going there.”
“But my stuff is there.”
“We’ll get it tomorrow,” he said matter-of-factly.
“Where are you taking me?”
“To my place. You can stay there until you find something better. No way am I dropping you off at that shithole, and since I don’t trust that you’d be safe there, I’d be forced to stay with you . . . and no way that’s happenin’.”
There he goes rambling again.
Tripp
I can’t believe she expected me to drop her off at the Buckshot Motel. The place was well known for druggies and whores. They even rented the rooms by the hour, for Christ’s sake.
“How did you get back and forth to work? I know you don’t have a car if the only thing you could afford was that fuckin’ place.” My hands tightened on the wheel, my impatience for the entire evening coming to a halting close.
She remained silent for a few moments before answering, most likely pissed at me for putting down her choice of living arrangements. But I didn’t give a shit. Someone had to tell her, and that someone may as well be me. “I’d walk,” she answered, angering me more than I already was, “or I’d hitch a ride with Carla or one of the other girls who live close by.” The entire time she spoke she avoided lifting her head. Why did her refusal to look at me bother me so much?
I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought about this before, but I wondered if she had someone waiting for her back at the motel. “You got a man?” I blurted, holding my breath until she uttered a response.
“No.”
“Good.”
“Why good?”
“’Cause if you told me you did, it wouldn’t stop me from bringing you to my place.” I had no idea why I was saying what I was, but the words tumbled out before my fuckin’ brain could filter them. I only prayed I wasn’t freaking her out.
Miles passed before she spoke again. “Tripp?”
“Yeah.”
“Is that your real name?” she asked, resting her elbow on the frame of the door.
“Is that what you were really gonna ask me?”
“Yes.” She answered so quickly I knew her response was forced.
“I don’t know you well enough to tell you my real name, sweetheart,” I countered, smirking at the sudden back and forth between us, the topic thankfully lighter than before.
“But you’re willing to take me back to your place. Which, by the way, I don’t think is a good idea.”
“Oh yeah, and why’s that?”
“Because you’re a stranger. And I don’t make it a habit of going back to strangers’ homes.” Her arm fell from the doorframe and both hands rested in her lap, picking at the edge of my cut.
“If that’s bothering you”—I gestured toward my vest—“you can throw it in the back. I’ll grab it when I get out.”
“No, it’s fine. The heaviness of it is actually keeping me warm. California nights sometimes get a bit chilly.”
“The way you said that I’m assuming you’re not from here.”
“No, I’m not.” She wasn’t gonna give me anything more unless I pressed.
“Where are you from, then?”
“Maine.”
“Why did you move here? You chasin’ a modelin’ career or somethin’?”
“Yeah, I was hoping to get my big break twirling around the pole.” She chuckled. “It obviously didn’t work.” A lightness drifted off her and whatever tension had been strangling the air between us lessened.
“So why California, then?” I asked once more.
“I’d rather not talk about it.” Short and to the point, the tenseness creeping back into her posture warning me to let it go. So I did, for the time being.
She didn’t speak again until twenty minutes later when we turned down a narrow, darkened gravel road. I’d been renting a cabin ever since Marek had asked me to stay on and oversee the progress and daily running of Indulge.
Clearing her throat, she blurted, “You’re not planning on killing me, are you?” A nervous laugh escaped, irritating me more than I let on.
“Do you think I’d save you from that asshole only to turn around and kill you?”
“I hope not.” Another uneasy laugh. “Thank you for that, by the way. I really appreciate it, even though I got blamed for it.”
“Why do you keep saying I blame you for him attacking you? Because it ain’t true. The only one to blame is that fucker. Him and him alone, so please stop sayin’ otherwise.”
She twitched in her seat, her nerves getting the better of her. I could tell she wanted to confront me, yell at me, tell me right where to go, but for some reason she held back.
“What?” I asked, finally pulling to a stop in front of my place.
“If . . . if you don’t blame me, then why did you fire me?” When I opened my door the interior light came on, illuminating her beautiful face and her confused expression.
“Because I don’t want you to ever put yourself in that situation again. It isn’t safe.” I climbed out of the truck and shut the door before she could come back with a retort. When I arrived at her door, I opened it up and extended my hand. Hawke’s truck was high and I didn’t want her to lose her footing while climbing down.
As soon as her palm touched mine, I closed my eyes and reveled in the warmth of her touch. It was brief, yet calming. I took her belongings, including my cut, from her hands and led her toward the porch.
“You have a beautiful home,” she said in awe, her voice like the softest silk, weaving its hold around every fiber of my being and entrancing me.
“Thank you, but it’s not mine. I’m just rentin’ it for n
ow. But if I stay on, I have the option to purchase.” A large front porch ran the entire length of the cabin. Sometimes I’d sit in the lone rocking chair with a beer in hand and watch the sun disappear behind the horizon, often wondering what the future held for me and my club. There were plenty of nights I’d wished to share the scenery with someone, but until I met Reece, I hadn’t realized how lonely I’d been.
She walked quietly beside me, the only sound coming from the rocks of the pathway kicking up beneath our feet.
Once inside, I tossed everything I’d been carrying on the nearest chair and walked to the kitchen. “Do you want something to drink?”
“Water will be fine.”
After I handed her a bottled water, I intently watched her twist off the cap, raise it to her mouth and take a healthy gulp before licking water droplets from her plump lips. When she finished, she placed it on the table closest to her and stood in front of me, playing with her hands in nervousness.
When the silent awkwardness became too stifling, I spoke up. “I have some clothes you can change into.”
“Are you married?” she asked, stepping back and bracing herself on the chair behind her. Her bluish-gray eyes widened, and although I didn’t understand her appall, all I wanted to do was put her out of her misery.
“No, I’m not married.”
“Oh,” she said, rushing out a breath of air. “I thought when you said you had some clothes for me that you had access to women’s clothing.”
“No, I meant I have some shorts and a T-shirt you could wear. Or not. If you prefer to sleep in the nude, please don’t let me stop ya.” I chuckled to help relieve some of the tension, but it did nothing to stop her body from reacting. Averting her eyes, her cheeks flamed the sexiest shade of pink. How someone could take their clothes off for a living yet look so embarrassed by the mention of sleeping nude was quite the conundrum. She certainly wasn’t what I expected at all.