Chapter 2

CHAPTER TWO

JOEY

"…and then he was caught by a journalist who had gone undercover, accepting money for access to the footballers who would be playing for the national team. Can you believe that?" Echo says nothing, but the twitch of his lip lets me know he is listening. "￡20,000. That is so crazy to me. Soccer is a huge deal in Europe. Pounds are a funny currency, though. I wonder if a pound coin weighs a pound? No, that can't be right. Although, I saw a TikTok of a travel influencer who said most of Great Britain is cash free. Maybe it's because it's so fucking heavy. Did you know that their version of the Dollar Tree is called Poundland? Pound. Land. I would love to go there. I doubt they sell sex stuff. Maybe they do. I think they are a lot less repressed than they seem to be on Downton Abbey. Do you watch period dramas?"

I pause to give Echo a chance to talk. He doesn't usually say anything, but I don't want to bulldoze the conversation.

Fuck me he's gorgeous.

He's pretty and rugged all rolled into one. I think he works construction because he often wears steel cap boots that have a mixture of mud, paint, and dust on them. He has the muscles to pull off a blue-collar job. I wouldn't mind him putting them to work on me. I bet he could lift me up and fuck me against a wall.

I need to get laid.

My over protective father and his band of cronies means it happens far too little.

That's a little unfair.

Being gay in a motorcycle club family isn't overly common. I know there are a few clubs that are queer, but the Lost Knights aren't one of them.

My dad doesn't always understand "the gay thing" but he tries.

Unfortunately, he has taken to thinking that liking men means I need to be protected like people would their daughters. It's old-fashioned and sexist.

Honestly, what twenty-one-year-old is going to hide away and not have sex because their dad says so. I am just superb at hiding it.

I wish I could figure out if Echo is into guys. There is not a thing I would do if this man asked me to. Maybe I should just ask him?

Or brainwave time. I could come to class wearing a butt plug and pretend it's stuck and ask him if he could help me remove it. If he then slides his fat cock inside, I will know he likes men.

That is actually a really smart idea.

My dad doesn't check my mail anymore except to have our sniffer dog, Parsley-Anne, check it for bad things.

AKA, mail bombs.

Who even does that?

People who hate my dad.

I love him and think he is the best, but he also happens to run a drug dealing operation throughout Oregon. Marrying up the father who cried as we watched the movie My Girl, with the man who shot the ear off a person for stealing a kilo of coke, is kind of a mind fuck.

"I watched The Crown," Echo says. His voice is like chocolate spread on toast. Smooth with crunch.

Maybe if I put Nutella on my nipples, he could lick them clean. Then fuck me against a wall.

"I haven't watched it yet." A beautiful thought hits me. "I could come to your place and we can Netflix and chill. I'll bring the snack and supplies and you just bring yourself."

I will never know if he plans on answering me or not, because at that moment the stupid professor ends the class.

Cunt.

Echo stands up and waits for me to shove my laptop in my bag. After every class he walks me to my car like a gentleman. I ignore the fact that I hate my dad treating me like I'm delicate, but I like Echo doing it. Echo doing it means he could at least possibly see himself railing me into space one day.

Last week he wore sweats that looked like they were a size too small and I am now very confident that his cock will leave me walking like a cowboy.

I wonder if he likes to role play.

I could wear assless chaps. Lubed up and bent at the waist near a barn door.

"Echo, did you know it's meant to be rude to ask someone their sexuality?"

He looks at me from the corner of his eye as we head out the building and make our way to the parking lot.

"I didn't ask you."

"Oh, I know, but I want to ask you." I say cheerfully. We reach my Honda and he opens the door for me once I unlock it.

I slide in, putting my backpack in the passenger footwell and look up at him. God, I want to be on my knees for this man. I wonder what his cock tastes like. Delicious, I'm sure. His load is probably so big, it would meet my daily calorie allowance.

Yummy.

"Goodbye, Joey," he says and shuts my car door.

Damnit.

One day I will find out. The butt plug idea is looking to be my best bet.

Like always, he stands back and watches as I drive out of the lot. Staring at him in my rear-view mirror is not the smartest road safety choice I've made but at least it's not a DUI I guess.

He's just so fucking gorgeous.

Maybe I can convince him to take a selfie with me. That way I will have some jerk off material.

Maybe he could be shirtless.

With his abs covered in his own cum.

I really need this man to fuck me.

Thirty minutes later, I'm waving to Stone, who is on gate duty as I pull into the Lost Knights clubhouse. As I am technically a club brother, I have a room here. I would love to get my own apartment, but there is no way dad is going to pay for me to live anywhere else right now and I'm too busy saving all of my money for when I get my degree and move to Portland.

Not that dad agrees with me.

There is no way I want to spend my life being scared as fuck that the police are going to raid my home or another drug dealing operation is going to kill me and the people I love just so they can steal some crazy expensive powder.

So I will move to Portland, find myself a husband, have lots of sex, and then maybe adopt a puppy and spend my days looking after our home, going to the doggy park, and making my husband a nice meal when he gets home.

Okay, so maybe I can see why my dad is treating me like a woman from the fifties, when that is the aesthetic I want. Except queer and with the freedom to choose. Duh.

I park my car in my designated spot and grab my cut from the glove box, putting it on before I get out of the car.

Not gonna lie; cuts are cute. I love that all motorcycle members have them. Ours are a warm chocolate brown with the club logo on the back and our road name emblazoned across our shoulders.

My road name and my real name is Joey, which is just super boring. My mom was Australian and my parents would call me their little Joey when she was pregnant with me. It's cute and annoying. It's like my dad always knew he would have a little gay son. Not that I'm little. I can only be a few inches shorter than Echo. Hopefully, his dick is bigger than mine. Five inches is great, but I need a meat feast foot long to satisfy my hunger.

I wonder if I can get Roman, the club's computer guy to find out if Echo is gay?

Mmm, maybe not. He'll probably tell my dad and then I'll get a whole interrogation about Echo and he'll demand to meet him.

No fucking way.

If Echo is going to talk to anyone, it's going to be me.

"Hey, kid," my dad says as my feet carry me through the doors of the old converted warehouse. This place looks a lot fucking nicer than the abandoned warehouse vibes the outside give off. I know that is the point, but still. A couple of pot plants next to the door wouldn't go a miss.

Even though the inside is nicer, it could be better. I'd give anything for my dad to let me design this place. I think he's scared I'm going to turn it into the house of cock.

"Hey, dad. Murder any drug dealers today?"

"Fucking hell, Joey, do you have to great me like that every fucking time?" he rolls his eyes with a huff. "It was one time, Joey."

I raise an eye brow.

"That you saw," he says reluctantly.

There it is.

"Maybe don't do any murder and I will change my greeting."

"Don't start you little shit," he says pulling me in for a brief hug. "Come through to my office. I'll have Saint bring you through some food while you tell me all about your classes."

I follow him to his office and I feel a small twinge. This is the shit that I'll miss next year when I'm living four hours away. My dad might not be a good human, but he's a great dad.