“So?” Nash says.
“So, I taught him a lesson about touching shit that doesn’t belong to him!”
“Oh, so Naomi belongs to you now?”
“Maybe.”
“I thought she was just paying off a debt she owes you,” he mutters.
“Right. She is.”
“Until when?” he asks.
“A few more days or whatever.” I act like I don’t know the exact date that our deal ends when it’s all I’ve been thinking about lately, wondering what happens afterward.
“And then what?” Nash asks.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Then what happens? You gonna cut her loose?”
“I haven’t thought things through that far.”
“That girl is fucking with your head, man,” Silas says. “You’ve never let pussy mess you up like this before. That’s why you’re the one in charge.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“The cage fight with Fiasco?” Nash remarks. “Throwing punches at the president of another MC? Those are not things a cool, rational leader does.”
“Are you saying I’m doing a shit job?”
“Yeah, we are. Because lately you’ve been off your game. We all voted on this expansion, but now the Knights are probably going to back out of the patch over. You’re trying your fucking best to get in the way of what’s best for the club,” Nash says.
“I’m not doing anything on purpose. Hitting Bobby was a one-off,” I tell him. “Besides, you saw him snorting that shit, and you heard him admit they’re still producing weight. There was never going to be any merger with those back-wood hillbillies.”
“Maybe not!” Nash exclaims. “But there are diplomatic ways to handle that shit! You’re supposed to know that; that’s why you’re the goddamned president!”
“Fuck you,” I tell him. “I’m the president of the Aces because none of the rest of you could be bothered.”
“Malcolm, man, you need to lose the girl,” Silas speaks up and says, which isn’t at all surprising coming from the man who treats all women like they’re single-use condoms. Every woman is disposable to him, only good for spreading their legs.
“He’s right,” Nash agrees. “You already know she’s shady as hell. No pussy is worth losing your cash and your head over.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I snap at him.
“That girl is all about the money, man,” Silas answers. “She’s using you, setting you up to be her baby daddy and meal ticket for the next eighteen years. If you haven’t figured that shit out yet, then you need to get your head checked, Prez.”
No, I don’t believe that. Naomi doesn’t care about money. She was only stealing from the Aces to pay back Harry.
But she never has told me why she had to steal from him...
I thought I was getting to know Naomi, but all I’ve really learned the last two weeks are the sounds she makes when she’s coming on my tongue or cock and that she can’t seem to get enough.
Could it just be an act, and she’s only pretending to love fucking me until I knock her up?
“She’s on birth control,” I say aloud.
“That’s what they all say,” Silas grumbles. “How do you know for sure, though?”
“I’ve checked the pill container she leaves in the bathroom and see them missing each and every day,” I assure them.
When Silas and Nash both share a knowing look, I want to knock their teeth out. “What?” I exclaim.
“What if she’s flushing them?” Nash asks.
“Fuck you!” I shout at him. “She’s not flushing her pills. Who the hell would do that?”
“Gold-diggers,” Silas answers without missing a beat. “One of the oldest tricks in the books.”
“Get the fuck out of my office!” I yell at the two of them and nearly lose my shit when they exchange a glance again. “You’re wrong, and I don’t want to hear another fucking word about her!”
“If you say so, prez,” Silas mutters before they walk out and slam the door behind them.
Naomi
* * *
Malcolm doesn’t say a word to me the rest of the night on the boat, or before he drives us home on his bike. The tension between us is back, the sensation exactly the same as when he was jealous of Fiasco and blaming it on me.
As soon as we walk through the door of his house, Malcolm snaps.
One minute I’m wondering if he’s going to ever speak to me again for something that wasn’t my fault; and then the next, he’s slamming my back against the front door and pushing me down to my knees.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” Malcolm grits out softly when I’m kneeling on the floor.
“N-no,” I answer in a whisper.
“Tonight I nearly killed a man,” he goes on to say but I’m mostly distracted by his hands that are undoing his belt, popping the button on his jeans and lowering his zipper. “I nearly killed a man just for touching you.”
I’m not sure how I’m supposed to respond to that information. I didn’t like seeing Malcolm so out of control, but I can’t lie. I do enjoy seeing his jealousy because it means he cares.
“You make me fucking crazy,” he tells me as he pulls out his thick, semi-hard cock and gives it a few strokes, making it grow longer and causing my mouth to water for a taste. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to fuck your mouth without thinking about you getting on your goddamn knees for Fiasco in our stock room, sucking him off so good he was willing to fight me for you.”
“It-it was just once,” I remind him, unsure what else he wants me to say or why he’s bringing that up now. “I barely remember it.”
“Just one time, and he was ready to fight me for you,” Malcolm reiterates. “If being addicted to your pussy is enough to have me ready to kill a man, I’m not sure if I can handle your mouth.”
“I bet you can,” I look up at his face to tell him before my gaze goes back to his hard length. “I really want to try.”
“Take your dress off,” he orders me, refusing to give me his decision on the matter just yet.
Reaching around to my side without breaking eye contact with Malcolm’s dick, I find the zipper with my fingers and lower it. I shrug out of the material until it’s completely off, leaving me in nothing but a bright yellow thong, one the same color as Malcolm’s bike. I thought he might like the color on me. And judging by the way he steps back and tilts his head to the side to get a better look as his hand speeds up the movements on his dick, I think he does.
“So fucking beautiful,” he says, but it doesn’t sound like a compliment. It sounds like a complaint. Stepping forward again, he grabs my chin with his free hand and tells me, “Open your mouth wide.”
My jaw falls open on command, stretching as wide as it can possibly go for him. Malcolm feeds the fat crown of his cock inside, rubbing his flesh along the flat of my wet tongue before pulling it back on a groan. He lets go of my chin to slap his palm to the door above my head and then pistons his cock in and out of my stretched mouth several quick times in a row. When his head hits the back of my throat, I gag and my mouth closes around his shaft instinctively, not biting but sucking him down deeper. My hands tear his jeans down his hips a little further so I can cup his balls.