Trip let that hang and so did Shade. Even if he had a latex pocket pussy—or even ten—that was no one’s fucking business.
“She know about the club?”
Jesus fuck. “Yeah.”
“She got a problem with it?”
He had no fucking clue. But if she did, he doubted she’d let him around her girls or to sit at her kitchen table twice a week. Or make him dinner on the days they painted.
He really fucking doubted she’d be letting him inside her.
“Don’t think so.” But she also didn’t know much about the club and bringing her along on a run might change that.
“Then she shouldn’t have a problem sittin’ her ass on the back of your sled. And I’m fuckin’ sure you won’t have a problem with havin’ her tits smashed into your back, her warm pussy grindin’ against your ass and her arms wrapped around your waist on our Sunday ride. Also don’t gotta say it, but your Night Train’s got a rumble that will make her cream her fuckin’ jeans. Hell, Stella comes almost every time we fuckin’ ride and I don’t got a Night Train.”
His chest began to tighten. “Ain’t like that, Trip.”
“Then why’d you ask Oz about a room?”
Fuckin’ Ozzy.
“My guess, it wasn’t even a split second after you asked him, he sent out a fuckin’ group text to everyone, includin’ the women, askin’ who you’re bangin’.”
Goddamn Ozzy!
“Also musta forgot we got security cameras along with those security spotlights that not only light up the rear of the crematorium but lit up a Subaru station wagon and its occupants a coupla weeks back.”
Fuck! Even though his heart had seized, blood still rushed to his brain at that news.
“So...” Trip took a couple steps closer to him, caught his gaze and leaned in until the bill of Trip’s pulled-low baseball cap was only inches from Shade’s forehead. “My guess is I’ll see her on Sunday. This time with fuckin’ clothes on.”
“Trip...”
The prez leaned back and raised a palm. “Look, you ain’t Deacon or Easy, or some of the others, who bounce from hole to hole. Or in Deke’s case, used to bounce, ‘cause I’m pretty fuckin’ sure he’d like to keep both his testicles. If you stuck your dick in anything and everything with tits, I’d respect that. What I’m thinkin’ is if you’re sinkin’ your dick in the same wet spot over and over, she’s somethin’ to you. What? Don’t fuckin’ know. But do know I look forward to findin’ out.” He paused and added, much more firmly, “On Sunday.”
Shade’s jaw got tight. “Guessin’ that’s an order.”
“Thought it was pretty fuckin’ clear it was.”
“If she says no?”
“Guessin’ the ol’ ladies would love to meet her. They’re pretty fuckin’ convincin’ even if you’re not.”
Fuck, he wasn’t going to let Trip unleash the Fury sisterhood on Chelle. “She got kids, prez.”
Trip tapped his finger to his temple and cocked an eyebrow. “Figured that when you mentioned single mother. She don’t got a babysitter, we’ll get it covered.”
Shade unclenched his jaws enough to say, “They don’t need a sitter.”
Trip gave him a single nod. “Even better.” Then he turned on his boot and walked away.
Apparently, the Fury prez was done talking.
Fuck.
He had called Chelle later that night when they were both in their own beds. He didn’t want to wait until the last minute in case she needed to find an excuse to be gone most of the day and, if it was up to Shade, most of the night.
He expected her to balk at coming along on the run. She didn’t. In fact, she was surprised and even a little eager. But she also reminded him about what he said that night in the Subaru regarding keeping things between the two of them.
What he didn’t want to tell her was that what happened in that Subaru also happened to be caught on camera. He was pretty fucking sure that her knowing some of his brothers saw her naked while riding his face, and then his dick, would embarrass her.
Then she’d definitely not want to join them on the run.
Maybe she’d even tell him to fuck off.
Instead, he used the excuse of Ozzy running his big fucking mouth to his prez as the reason for the invite. He also reminded her of the interaction between him and Chelle in front of the school with Cassie and Daisy.
Those reasons were good enough for her, thank fuck. But then, she wasn’t the arguing type like some of the other ol’ ladies. Like Reese.
Especially Reese.
Some men, like Deacon, were into that. They get off on the fight and fire.
With that said, if any of his brothers—and he wasn’t sure who all knew about or saw the recording—mentioned the action in the Subaru in front of Chelle, things would get ugly. Especially since his brothers liked to bust each other’s balls, as well as tease the women.
That right there was the reason he was waiting for Chelle outside The Barn instead of hanging inside with everyone else while they gathered for their Sunday run.
There was no fucking way she was walking into church on her own.
There was also no fucking way she was talking to any of his brothers without Shade by her side listening to every fucking word.
Maybe one day he’d tell her the story about the video and they could laugh about it.
Today was not that fucking day.
Tomorrow wasn’t, either.
And once he could read half-decently, her house was done being painted, and she got shot of his ass, maybe he wouldn’t have to tell her at all.
Ignorance could be fucking bliss.
This was the perfect case for that saying.
So, as long as his brothers kept their fucking mouths shut about the unintentional porn Chelle and Shade headlined in, he’d be good.
So would they.
That very same Subaru made its way down the farm lane to where he halted his pacing, turned and waited, while twisting his hand back and forth along the back of his neck.
He’d already smoked part of a fatty not even a half hour earlier, but his nerves were still on edge.
He had really wanted to keep the shit with him and Chelle just between the two of them. He didn’t want her worried about their age difference and today there would be a whole shitload of people doing a bunch of math in their fucking heads. Especially if they figured out how old Chelle’s kids were.
Cassie already knew Chelle, but she certainly wasn’t one to judge. Luckily, the ol’ ladies weren’t a bunch of catty bitches. The sisterhood all got along and supported each other like a family should. Reese was the oldest of the bunch, but Chelle was still about five or six years older than Deacon’s ol’ lady. As long as Shade didn’t give a fuck about Chelle’s age, nobody else should, either.
He pointed away from the line of sleds parked in front of The Barn and she followed his direction, steering her car to the right of the building and the opposite side to the courtyard and parked. Her cage would be safer there since after the run everyone would be coming back to the farm to party.
When she climbed out of her Subaru wearing jeans that hugged her curves, some kind of heeled boots, a snug long-sleeved, thermal-like V-neck shirt that emphasized just how big her tits were—and how hard her nipples were—he was close to shoving her back into the rear seat and fucking her all over again.