Chapter 32

CHAPTER

THIRTY-TWO

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My head pounds as I lie beside her, tugging her against my body and feeling the warmth of her flesh touching mine.

If my cock would work, I could fuck her again right now.

But my balls are empty, and my dick has been fucked raw. I need a break, at least for a few hours. I’m sure she feels the same way.

Touching my lips to her shoulder, I gently remove myself from her body and slide out of bed. I hope she’s able to get some sleep, but I’ve got some work to do. And I’ve seriously neglected my duties with all of this running around the country.

After showering, I quickly dress and head down to the conference room. It’s going to be the quietest room, and the table is nice for me to spread shit out on. I’m going to have to schedule myself in some of the keg deliveries, collections, and maybe even a warehouse run.

I’ve seriously neglected shit since Spencer came to town, barely keeping up on everyone else’s schedules but not my own. I’m not sure how long I sit at the table working, but there is a knock on the door what feels like seconds later.

Calling out for whoever is on the other side to come in, I hear the door open, but there are no footsteps. Slowly, I spin around in the chair I’m in to see that Spencer is standing just on the other side of the door, two coffees in hand.

Spencer wouldn’t walk through that door unless invited. She isn’t a stranger to club life, and while that isn’t the only reason I’m attracted to her, I have to admit that it’s a nice addition to her positive attributes.

“You can come in, beautiful,” I murmur.

She looks over her shoulder, then takes a hesitant step into the room. I chuckle at the sight of her. She’s so fucking stressed out. Patting my lap in an invitation, I wait until her ass is planted on my thigh to talk to her about this moment.

“Without an invitation from me or someone else who holds an office in this club, this would absolutely not be allowed. If the old men were running the place still, also, this would not be a thing. But we’re not as strict as the fathers,” I point out.

She smiles, her gaze searching mine for a moment. Then she leans forward so her lips can brush against mine. “Good morning, baby,” she breathes against my lips.

Baby.

Fuck.

I like that.

A hell of a lot.

“I woke up, and you were gone,” Spencer rasps, leaning forward to touch her mouth to mine in another soft kiss. She tastes like coffee and creamer.

I slide my hand up the center of her back, making my cock twitch, and I think about fucking her one more time even though my dick fucking hurts. I could do it again. I could always do it again when it’s her body up for grabs.

“Had to get some work done,” I murmur against her lips, my mouth traveling down the side of her throat.

She hums, then lets out a sigh. “Humble called me this morning.”

I freeze, leaning back slightly as I tilt my head and look into her eyes. “He did?”

Spencer dips her chin in a single nod. “He did, and I’m going to be visiting him in a few days.”

I bite my tongue. I want to ask her what she’s going to tell him, but I decide against it. I’m going to have my own conversation with Clink. I don’t need my woman being the go-between. Whatever she talks with him about is solely her shit.

“How are you feeling about it?” I ask.

She shrugs her shoulder, her gaze flicking down to her lap before she lifts it up to meet mine. “Nervous. I always told him if anything happened to him, I would not visit him. But the first thing I wanted to do when I found out he was arrested was visit him.”

My muscles flex around her. I fucking hate that this shit happened to her. Despise it. She shouldn’t have to go through this. He should have never been arrested, and I wish we could kill all those bastards all over again.

“Don’t be nervous, beautiful. It’ll all be good. He’ll be happy to see you.”

That’s no lie. Clink always talked about Spencer and how he was proud of her but missed her. He’ll be happy to see her, even if the situation is fucking horrible. And I know he’ll also be glad that she’s staying, even if it means he’s pissed off at me.

“I hope so,” she says softly, then she lowers her head and rests her temple against my shoulder. “I never wanted this.”

“Me either, but I can’t deny that I’m glad it happened, even at the expense of Clink’s freedom, and I know that makes me a complete fucking selfish asshole for saying that. But you wouldn’t be right here, and I wouldn’t be the happiest man on this fucking planet.”

Spencer slowly shifts and lifts her head, her eyes finding mine. Her gaze is searching, and then she leans forward and touches her lips to mine again, brushing them across my own before she lifts her head, her teeth slowly sinking into her bottom lip. I watch as they tug back on the skin, and I want her in my mouth. I want to suck on that lip. I want to suck on all of her flesh.

Every fucking ounce of her.

“I can’t do it again for at least another twelve hours,” she whispers breathlessly.

I grunt, leaning back in my chair slightly but not too far away from her. “Why twelve hours?” I ask, feeling my aching cock twitch again.

“I’m sore as hell,” she whispers, her cheeks tinting pink at her own words.

The smile that appears on my lips is one that I can’t wipe off even if I tried. I wouldn’t want to anyway. It’s prideful. Because I’m fucking proud of myself that I made her sore. A fucking badge of honor is what it is.

Lifting my hand, I cup her center over her shorts, but I don’t do anything but hold her there. “Absolutely gorgeous—your cunt sore from me. I aim to keep you this way, always.”

She whimpers. “Always?” she exhales.

“You’ll get eight hours of rest. Then I’m going to be inside of you again. I’m going to stretch you and make you come. Then I’m going to lick your ache away.”

SPENCER

The clubhouse seems calmer than it has the past few weeks, as if everything has been settled. I guess whatever they did when they were all away is handled. Finished and done. I don’t know if it had anything to do with my brother, but I hope that whoever helped to put him away has suffered— immensely .

Inhaling a deep breath, I stand at the cabin’s front door. I’m no longer under guard. My car is being charged, but Evan has left me his pickup truck to go into town if I so choose, and he’s promised to take me to visit Humble in a few days.

Pacing the cabin’s back deck, I try to let the scenery calm me, but it doesn’t work. I’m nervous, and not just about seeing my brother, but about everything. I know that the moment Evan is here with me, anywhere near me, my nervous energy will dissipate. But when he’s not near, I’m filled with anxiety and doubt.

I doubt myself, mostly about my decisions and whether this is the right move. It feels right in the moment, but I don’t want to make a mistake. I know that I’m not making a move here hastily. I know I should be here for Humble. I want to be here for him. But I also don’t want to be selfish.

And I know I’m being selfish.

As a human, I realize that being selfish is normal, but I try not to be. I try to be a good person, but I’ve been selfish by staying away. I tried to claim it was for my own mental health, but I’m not so sure about that.

The guilt I feel about it consumes me. I should have come to Pineville and visited my brother at least once in the past decade.

What kind of person am I that the only reason I came was because he was arrested, and the only reason I’m staying is because my teenage fantasy has become a reality and I’m Brew’s old lady?

What the actual fuck is wrong with me?

Something ugly slides down the center of my spine. I feel as if someone is watching me, but when I look around, I’m alone. It’s probably an animal somewhere in the woods. This is the perfect place for solitude, but it’s also creepy as shit because you’re alone.

All alone.

Letting out a heavy sigh, I turn and make my way back into the cabin. I lock the back door behind me, then make my way into the kitchen and look for something to eat. I can’t even remember the last time I ate something. I’ve been surviving on sex and coffee. I don’t mind it too much, but now that I’m not in the middle of sex, my stomach rumbles.

Instead of making something that will take time and require cleanup, I grab a pint of gelato before tugging the silverware drawer out and finding a spoon. With gelato and spoon in hand, I make my way toward the sofa and sink down on the cushion.

Turning on the television, I find something mindless to watch on Netflix. Just as I’m getting into the show and am about a quarter through my gelato, my phone buzzes with a new text message.

I’m surprised at the notification, mainly because I don’t tend to get many texts. I’m kind of a loner.

Working from home has made me that way.

I feel like I got out a little more when I was in college, but being self-employed in a business that doesn’t require face-to-face interaction means that I’ve retreated into myself and not kept those lines open with college friends.

Are they really people I should push to see when I haven’t even heard from them in several years? Shaking my head, I get rid of the intrusive thoughts. Those women are all working. They’re all getting married and having babies. Life happens, and I can’t think that way. Just like I didn’t reach out to them, either. What goes around comes around.

Looking down at my phone, I try to shake off the thoughts and focus on the incoming text.

RYAN: Girls’ night out. You’re coming with us.

Staring at the text, I’m unsure of how to answer it. How to respond to it. I’m not really a girls’ night out kind of girl. I didn’t picture any of the girls that way, either. I’m caught completely off guard by the announcement.

RYAN: It’s nothing crazy. Sal’s is closed, so we thought it would be fun to do drinks and snacks. Maybe play around on the poles again. Bring Ophelia if you want.

I smile, especially at the Ophelia part.

Sinking my teeth into the corner of my bottom lip, I type out my response. It’s short and sweet, only one word.

When?

The three little dots appear as Ryan responds, and then her message appears.

RYAN: Thursday night. Be there at seven.

I don’t ask her why Sal’s Bar is going to be closed, mainly because Thursday isn’t just another weeknight. Thursday is the day that I’m able to finally spend some quality time with Humble again.

If I turn the girls down, I have a feeling they would stage some sort of old ladies’ intervention. Again. They’ve already done that with me more than once. I don’t need it again.

I’ll be there, and I’ll ask Ophelia.

I decide not to text Ophelia because I can’t handle all of her emojis right now. Instead, I make a mental note to visit her tomorrow. I’ll invite her then.

I’ll play cards with her, too, mainly because I like it, also because I want to hear all the town tea, and there’s the fact that in that tea, she’ll have some news about Jasmine.

And I’m a catty bitch. I want to talk all the shit about Jasmine, and I want to know whether she’s leaving town or not. I want her gone forever. I don’t care what that says about me, and I’m sure that I should, but I admit I’m selfish.

Really freaking selfish, especially when it comes to Evan.