Page 70 of Jagger
“OK, I’ll meet you both out front in a few minutes. I’m going to fill Molly in.”
I turned the corner into the club room and knew it was going to take more than a few minutes. My gaze immediately took in the sight of Linc shielding Molly protectively behind him, as he faced off with three club bunnies.
“I said that’s enough, Paisley. You and the other bunnies need to head back out to your rooms,” Lincoln repeated angrily, pointing over toward the back door. “Now!” He yelled, when the bunnies just continued to stand there glaring at Molly, my sweet Angel, who looked like she was ready to kick some bunny ass.
Chapter 21
Molly
As soon as Cole and the other men left, Pop and Viking headed out to the garage behind the clubhouse. Viking apparently had something going on with his motorcycle, and he and Pop were going to tinker around with it.
I was left with Lincoln, who stopped me from trying to clean up the breakfast mess.
“Molly, the bunnies will take care of that. They should be rolling in here any minute.”
He shot me a smug look when we heard the back door open, and the chatter of women’s voices filled the air. The smugness vanished as their conversation registered.
“I don’t know what Jagger sees in her. I mean, honestly, to choose her fat ass over me? Un-fucking-believable. You can’t tell me that boring little, basic bitch knows how to fuck the way he likes it. That man likes it hard, and on his terms, let me tell you. He’s not all hearts and flowers and shit.”
I looked over toward the kitchen and saw the same three bunnies from last night. Paisley, Skinny Blonde, and Not-Quite-As-Skinny Blonde. Linc made a move toward the kitchen with a fierce glower on his face, but I put my hand on his arm to stop him. He glanced at me quizzically as I shook my head at him again. “Nope,” I ground out quietly, letting thePpop, “Let them finish. I’d like to hear what they have to say.”
I missed the first part of what Skinny Blonde said but heard the last part of her statement as she cautioned Paisley, saying something about having to show me respect.
Then Not-Quite-As-Skinny Blonde piped up with, “Why should she? It’s not like Jag’s made her his Ol’ Lady or anything.”
Paisley found that idea hilarious, if her obnoxious, braying cackle was any indication. Her laugh sounded kind of like a donkey being screwed sideways by a cactus, or what I imagined that would sound like anyway. “Oh, please. Can you imagine Jagger with an Ol’ Lady? That man likes his variety too damned much to ever settle for just one cunt, especially one as uptight as hers is. She probably just lays there like a dead fish, waiting for him to stop humping her. I doubt she even knows how to give a decent blow job, and we all know Jagger likes his blow jobs.”
More obnoxious cackling followed her statement, along with a few giggles from the blonde bobbleheads. I held on to Lincoln’s arm as he made another attempt to storm into the kitchen. I appreciated his concern, but I refused to have him fight my battles, especially against the Skank Squad.
“Yeah, Jag definitely loves blowjobs,” Skinny Blonde volunteered. Yes, he did, but I didn’t really need to hear it confirmed from the likes of them.
“It’s too damned bad he won’t ever return the favor though,” Paisley groused. “I asked him to go down on me once, and he jumped out of the bed like his ass was on fire. Looked at me like I was covered in shit and told me flat out that he didn’t eat pussy. He didn’t fuck me for a month after that.” The two blondes nodded in commiseration, and I raised my eyebrows in surprise at her complaint. Cole had no problem doing that with me. In fact, it seemed to be one of his favorite pastimes.
I decided I’d heard enough. It was time to clue them in to the fact that they had an audience. I schooled my expression to be one of – I hoped – innocent confusion, then raised my voice to make sure they heard me refute Paisley’s claim.
“That’s so strange, since Jagger absolutelylovesto go down onme. Perhaps when he was with you, he was worried about the taste of rotten fish?”
Poor Lincoln almost choked to death at my oh-so-innocent observation, having had the misfortune to take a swig from his bottle of water at the same time as I lobbed my verbal grenade at Paisley. Judging by the unholy screech that came from her direction, I’d landed a direct hit.
She flew out of the kitchen and headed toward me at the bar, with the blonde brigade hot on her heels. Lincoln moved even faster, vaulting over the bar to stand in front of me and block their path.
“That’s enough. Get back to your quarters,” he ordered them, using a rough, growly tone I’d not heard from him before. He seemed very laid back normally, but that had changed in an instant.
“Fuck you, prospect, and fuck that uppity bitch behind you, too!” Paisley yelled, trying to lean around Lincoln to glare at me. I stood up from my stool and started to step toward her, only to be stopped by Linc as his arm shot out and pushed me back behind him. He glanced over his shoulder at me and murmured, “Let me handle this, Molly.”
My blood was boiling, and I wanted nothing more than to rip Paisley’s fake-ass extensions right out of her head. My one and only physical altercation happened in my junior year of high school, when Tammy Sue Schonfeld had repeatedly tried to steal my then-boyfriend, Tony. After a blatant, yet unsuccessful attempt to lure him under the bleachers by flashing her boobs at him, I had been thoroughly fed up. I’d confronted her in the parking lot after the game that night and had ended up punching her in the face by the time it was over. She avoided Tony and me both after that. My hand had been sore for a week, and my brother had lectured me about never, ever tucking my thumb inside my fist when I punched someone. I hadn’t been that into Tony – our brief relationship fizzled out a few weeks later - but it was the principle of the thing. You just don’t try to steal another girl’s man.
I tried to remind myself that I was a respectable teacher, not a volatile teenager anymore, but there was a part of me that really wanted to punch Paisley right in the face, even harder than I’d hit Tammy Sue. I’d remember not to tuck my thumb this time, too. I grudgingly stepped back, and let Lincoln take charge.
“I said that’s enough, Paisley. You and the other bunnies need to head back out to your rooms,” he repeated angrily, pointing over toward the back door. “Now!” He yelled, when the Skank Squad just continued to stand there glaring at me.
“What the hell makes you think we have to listen to you,prospect?” Paisley sneered nastily. The two blondes nodded in encouragement, egging her on. She started to open her mouth to spout off again, only to be interrupted by an ice-cold voice behind us.
“The rules of this goddamned club mean that you have to listen to him,bunny. Now, what the fuck is the problem out here?” I turned to see that the man I loved had been replaced by a menacing wall of muscle with a scowl on his face that was fierce enough to make a grown man cry. I swallowed hard, suddenly regretting the choice to stoop to Paisley’s level and start crap with her.
“Cole, I’m so sorry – “ I started to say, before Lincoln started talking over me.
“Theseladies,” he emphasized sarcastically, gesturing to the three bunnies, “decided to run their damned mouths again. This one,” he pointed to Paisley, “started talking shit about Molly, and then started gossiping about you. Molly put her in her place, and it was fucking hilarious, too.”
