Page 87 of Cold Bastard
Near the pool table, Vortex, Heretic, and Cobalt were attempting to play a game, but the club whores circling them like sharks made it nearly impossible. One of them, a brunette whose name I couldn’t remember, pressed herself against Vortex’s back, her hands sliding around his waist as she whispered something in his ear.
Vortex grinned and set down his pool cue, turning to grab her ass and pull her against him. “Game’s over, boys. I got better things to do.”
Heretic laughed. “Pussy.”
“Damn right,” Vortex said, already steering the brunette toward one of the empty couches.
Cobalt shook his head and lined up his shot, ignoring the blonde trying to get his attention. He was one of the few brothers who didn’t indulge as often. Not because he was opposed to it, but because he was selective. Picky about who he fucked and when.
I understood that. More than I wanted to admit.
Garrote was passed out on one of the couches near the back wall, his cut still on, his boots still laced. He’d been drinking since noon, celebrating some deal he’d closed with a gun runner in Sioux Falls. Nobody bothered him. When Garrote drank, he drank until he couldn’t stand, and then he slept it off wherever he landed.
Scythe was nowhere to be seen. Probably in his room or out on a ride. He didn’t participate in the clubhouse orgies. Not because he was above it, but because he preferred his violence and his sex separate. Controlled. Deliberate.
I could respect that, too.
Serena’s hand was still working my cock, rubbing and squeezing with increasing desperation. She could feel that I wasn’t responding, and it was making her try harder. Her other hand slid up my chest, fingers tracing the lines of my cut.
“Come on, Nano,” she whispered, her lips brushing my ear. “Let me make you feel good.”
I should have told her to fuck off. Should have pushed her away and gone back to my room where Alex was probably still lying in my bed, covered in my marks, trying to figure out what the hell she was going to do next.
But I didn’t. Because something in me wanted to see what would happen if I let this play out. Wanted to test the boundaries of whatever the fuck was happening between me and Alex. Wanted to know if the claim I made on her was real or just another fucked-up fantasy I’d built in my head.
Movement at the bottom of the stairs caught my attention.
A flash of dark hair and pale skin.
Alex.
My entire body went rigid.
She stood on the landing, one hand gripping the railing as if it were the only thing keeping her upright. She was wearing one of my T-shirts, black, oversized, hanging to mid-thigh, and nothing else. Her legs were bare, her feet bare, her hair still tangled from sleep and sex. And she was staring at the room below with an expression that was equal parts horror and fascination. This was her first time seeing the club like this. Her first time witnessing the raw, unfiltered debauchery that defined the Brotherhood when we weren’t conducting business or planning wars. This was who we were when the doors were closed and the rules didn’t apply.
This was the world I dragged her into.
Her eyes swept the room, taking in Wanderer and Carver still fucking the club whore on the couch. Taking in Morpheus with Lollie’s head bobbing between his legs. Taking in Vortex bending the brunette over the arm of another couch, his jeans already around his thighs as he lined himself up, and then her eyes found me. Found me sitting at the bar with Serena pressed against my side, her hand still rubbing my cock through my jeans.
The look on her face was like watching someone get punched in the gut. Her eyes went wide, her lips parting in shock, and for a moment she just stood there, frozen, staring at me like she couldn’t quite process what she was seeing.
And I stared back. I should have pushed Serena away. Should have stood up and gone to Alex, pulled her back upstairs before she saw any more of this shit. Should have protected her from the reality of what the Brotherhood was.
But I didn’t. Instead, I turned slightly on the barstool, giving Serena more space, and kept my eyes locked on Alex, and Serena took it as encouragement. Her hands moved to my belt, fingers working the buckle with practiced efficiency. “That’s it,” she murmured, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Let me take care of you.”
My belt came free. She popped the button on my jeans, dragged down the zipper, and reached inside to pull out my cock. Still soft. Still unresponsive. But the second Alex’s eyes dropped to watch Serena’s hand wrap around me, something shifted. Heat flooded my veins. My cock twitched in Serena’s grip, beginning to harden as I watched Alex watch me.
Serena made a pleased sound, stroking me slowly as I grew harder in her hand. “See? I knew I could get you going.”
She had no idea. It wasn’t her touch that was doing this. It wasn’t her hand or her mouth, or her tits pressed against my arm. It was Alex, and the look on her face. The shock andhurt and something darker, something that looked almost like arousal. It was the way she couldn’t look away, even though every instinct was probably screaming at her to run back upstairs and lock herself in my room. It was the knowledge that she was watching me get hard for another woman, and she couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
Serena dropped to her knees between my legs, her hands pushing my jeans down just enough to free my cock completely. She looked up at me with those practiced bedroom eyes, licking her lips as if she were about to devour a feast.
“You’re so big,” she purred, wrapping both hands around my shaft. “I’ve been wanting to taste you for weeks.”
I didn’t respond. Didn’t look at her. My eyes stayed locked on Alex, watching as she gripped the railing tighter, her knuckles going white.
And then Serena’s mouth was on me.
