Parking my bike, I walk toward the edge of the water and sit down on the ground. Resting my forearms against my knees, I watch the wind carry the water back and forth. I feel so fucking stupid, my cock aches for Ana, along with the rest of me.
It’s ridiculous.
I’ve never wanted a woman that I haven’t been able to make mine in an instant. Maybe this is all karma for fucking and leaving so many women after I’ve chased them.
The chase.
I fucking love that shit, then something happens when I’ve caught them. They submit so easily and the game is done. So is my interest in them.
With Ana, it feels different, but is it, really?
I don’t know.
Maybe I should just let it go and the idea of her, altogether. I don’t need an Old Lady, not when I can have a different pussy every fucking day of the week.
Chapter One
ANA
He walks into the bar and my entire body melts a little before the memories of the past two months fill my head. Shaking them away, I slide the brown bottle of beer across to Bones. As the president of the club, I always make sure I have a smile and a cold beer for him. He pays me, he keeps me employed, and he gives me a free place to live.
“You two better get your shit handled,” he grumbles.
Nodding, I bite the inside of my cheek before I turn to him. “How’s the baby?” I ask, changing the subject.
I watch as his eyes light up. Baby. He’s so in love with his baby, it’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life. I didn’t know men could be smitten with their children. I’d only ever been around one father and that was my own. Angel Ramos was not a man who showed his children even an ounce of affection, let alone actual love.
“Perfection,” he announces. I watch as he drinks his beer, then slides the empty bottle across to me. “Got some shit to do, then I’m headed back to them, thanks babe,” he says, lifting his hand in a wave.
I’m smiling at Bones’ back as he walks away when a dark shadow blocks my view, well, more like a dark-clothed body. Tipping my head back, I look into Dutch’s dark gaze. I lick my lips, freezing in the middle of the action when his eyes flick down to my mouth and his nostrils flare.
“Beer?” I ask, trying not to act and sound affected by his closeness and his stare.
He grunts, so I assume that’s a yes, and open a cold beer before I slide it across the bar to him. There is no way I’m handing him anything, I don’t want to risk touching his warm skin. He wraps his hand around the beer, his eyes never leaving mine as he lifts the bottle to his lips and takes a long pull.
“You doin’ okay, babe?” he asks, his voice warm, so warm that I almost feel it touch me.
Babe. It’s a throwaway word that these men use, except when Dutch says it, every single nerve ending throughout my entire body is sensitized.
I am way too into him.
I need to forget he exists.
I need to try to move on.
It’s been two months since Gator has been here. It’s been two months since I’ve had an orgasm that wasn’t self-induced. I need to get laid, that’s what I need to do. Forget Dutch, crawl beneath another man and get an orgasm.
“I’m good,” l lie.
He leans over the bar, his eyes searching mine as his lips turn up into a grin. “You ever wanna be more than just, good, you let me know.”
“You think pretty highly of yourself,” I snap.
Inside, I’m wondering just how amazing he could make me feel. I’m whimpering at the idea of him touching me, licking me, doing just about anything to me. He chuckles, pushing off of the bar.
“Yeah, babe, but not because I’m just some cocky asshole. Because I’ve been told far too many times for it to be a one-off.”
He winks before he turns around and I watch him make his way over to a girl in the corner. I hadn’t noticed her before, but I see her now. She’s naturally tanned like me with dark black glossy hair, like mine. If I glanced really quickly, I would guess she could be my sister, that’s how much she looks like me.
“Asshole,” I mutter.
DUTCH
The woman in front of me smiles as I approach. I don’t return that smile. I don’t want her, not at fucking all. The only woman I want inside of is the one behind the bar, the one trying to deny that she wants me just as badly.
Now that Gator has steered clear, she’s finally realizing that I exist. That should piss me off, but I’m kind of liking the idea of her wanting me and fighting it. Of her wanting me when she can’t have me.
Call me immature. Call me whatever the fuck you want, but that’s the way of it and how I feel right now.
“I want you,” the woman in front of me purrs as she places her hand in the center of my chest.
Reaching out, I wrap my fingers around her wrist and tug her away. “Don’t touch,” I growl. “Never touch without permission.”
“Oh, God. You guys really are as kinky as I’ve heard,” she moans.
Lifting my eyes from her tits, I look into her face, into her eyes. She’s pretty, probably prettier than a man like me deserves. She’s shifting from side-to-side with anticipation of what kinky fun she thinks she’s going to have.
She has no fucking idea.
Leaning forward, I press my lips against the side of her ear. “Do you think being with a man like me is like one of those smutty romance books? That I’m going to control you, play with you, then fall in love with you. That I’ll be devoted to you, because somehow your pussy is the most magical pussy I’ve had and it will make me be loyal?” I ask.
She gasps, pulling away from me, but not hard enough to actually go anywhere. She’s all bark and no bite. This bitch doesn’t know what to do with a man like me. One minute into what I need would probably send her crying and running for a safe place.
“I’m just here to have fun,” she lies.
I snort, shaking my head. “Get the fuck gone,” I grumble.
“But—”
“Nothin’. Get the fuck gone.”
Releasing her wrist, I take a step back and decide to go back to my room alone. I’m not in the mood to party anymore. I’m not in the mood for anything. At least not anything I can actually fucking have.
Chapter Two
ANA
I watch him push away from the woman and turn toward the bedrooms. I wait for her to follow him or maybe a clubwhore, but neither happens. Chewing on my bottom lip, I glance at the bar, then the hallway, then back again.
“You gonna follow him?” a voice asks.
My body jerks and I turn to the voice. It’s Banshee. I don’t know him well, but he’s around, always around and he’s always watching. “Who?” I ask, playing dumb.
He chuckles. “Go get your man. Been your man for months, just waiting for you to take him.”
I shake my head once, debating on telling him he’s full of shit and getting back to work, or running as fast as I can to Dutch’s room. Banshee ends up laughing his ass off, because I choose the second option.