Page 2 of All's Fair in Love & Wrath

My club brother and our sergeant at arms, Malice, is already outside by the fire pit as I round the corner to the side of the clubhouse, his stark blond hair noticeable from anywhere. A new color he’s tried out recently and seems to be working for him.

I pull out a cigarette from the pack in my back pocket, lighting it up and taking a long drag, letting the smoke fill my lungs, and the nicotine spread through my veins. It’s not as good as a joint, but I’ll take this so my mind can be clear today, especially if Chaos wants to discuss the bullshit about our current prospects.

I fall into one of the Adirondack chairs next to Malice, juggling my coffee in one hand and my smoke in the other. “You’re up early,” I tell him as he pulls out his own cigarette and lights it up. He seems lost in his head, somewhere he retreats to sometimes. Even after all these years, I still don’t know if that’s for his protection or ours.

“Only slept a few hours, been up since three.”

“Nightmare?”

Malice nods. “What do we got going on today?” he asks, never wanting to open up and talk about it, but we all know there are demons he’s battling. Just like most of us.

I take my first sip of coffee, lettingthe warm liquid slide down my throat. “There’s some issue at the build site of the new club, gotta go down there and get shit sorted.” Last fall, one of our businesses, our nightclub, Hell’s Asylum, was burned to the ground. Our club vice president, Sin, got into some shit when he fell in love with a woman who was engaged to someone else. Granted, the guy’s a huge piece of shit, and I’m glad Bristol is around now, but it caused a shit ton of issues for us. Especially when he and his fucking goons burned down one of our establishments. A place that meant a lot to most of us here. We’ve all got an attachment to that club. I know I spent a helluva lot of time there watching the dancers and sinking my cock into a willing, wet pussy. Seeing it reduced to brick and ash broke something inside Chaos and Sin that day, though, and they’ve both been hell-bent on getting it rebuilt ever since.

“What’s the issue?” Malice asks without looking my way.

I shrug, not completely sure. I take a long drag of my cigarette. “Dunno, Rolo’s taking care of it.”

“I’ll go with him,” he says quickly. Rolo and Malice are close. They met in jail, when Malice was still practically a kid, and Rolo gave him a second chance at life. He was John Doe when Rolo met him, gave him a name, and a new start. Every Heathen has a story. We’re outcasts from society, wanderers, freaks, demons, the abused, and the broken. But Malice is different. He doesn’t talk about it, but we all know his story is darker than any of ours. And that’s saying something because we all come from nothing.

“Nope, Prez needs you here today. Some shit with the prospects. He wants ranked members in church in an hour.”

Malice nods, not putting up a fight like I would expect him to. “You think he’s pushing a vote?”

“Nah, I think he wants to postpone it. Do you think any of them are ready? I sure as hell don’t, and that’s not areflection on you. They’re all running from something, but that doesn’t mean they’ll have our backs when the fight comes knocking again.”

One of the biggest foundations Chaos has put in place since he became president was trust. He doesn’t rule as our leader; he’s one of us. He doesn’t force anyone to be here or to become a member. There’s no coercion or blackmail, just loyalty and family. We have to know that the men who become patched members will have our backs without thinking. You can’t buy a man’s loyalty with force or fear, and Chaos knows that. It’s something we’ve all worked hard to maintain and protect. We’re a family that works together like a well-oiled machine.

Our new prospects, some who’ve even been with us for nearly a year, just aren’t there yet. Even though they’ve been tested, something doesn’t feel right; I just haven’t been able to put my finger on what it is. I take another long drag of my smoke, flicking out the cherry and holding onto the butt.

“You’re not wrong. It hasn’t even been that long since all that shit went down with the Widowmakers, we’ve got time. There’s no rush. We’ve gotta play this right,” Malice says, being shockingly diplomatic for someone as ruthlessly stabby as he is.

“Agreed. I’m heading in. See you in there.”

I stand up, taking the last big sip of coffee before turning to head inside, Malice hot on my heels. The double bay doors at the front of the clubhouse are open already, and I step in just as Rolo and two of our prospects, Garrett and Luca, step outside.

Wanting another cup of coffee, I make a quick stop in the kitchen, finding one of the patch bunnies, Cora, walking in through the back door. She’s wearing a summer dress that hugs her body just right, her perky tits pushed up and spilling from the top. Her long blonde hair is pulled up in a messy bunthat I know she took her time to make look effortless. She’s a sexy thing, and I’ve fucked her more times than I can count.

The same thing goes for most of the patch bunnies here. The club brothers share all of them, and it’s not something that’s ever bothered me. I fucking love sex. Love physical touch. There’s nothing better than a wet, tight pussy between the legs of a sexy woman, my hands on their bare, smooth flesh. I love everything about it, being in control, the build-up, the release. It’s a purely physical experience, and one I’m fucking obsessed with.

I’ve got three rules: I don’t kiss on the mouth, I wrap it up every time, and I never come inside them. I don’t want an old lady, and I’ve got no interest in bringing kids into this fucked-up world. The patch bunnies are all good girls, and I’d be a careless asshole if I didn’t make sure my rules never get broken—for their sake, and mine. I don’t want to give them hope for something more, because it’s never going to be an option.

Cora’s eyes flare when she sees me walk in, not wasting any time to crowd my space, pressing her tits against my chest as she walks her fingers upward. “I had fun last night. Maybe we can repeat it?” Last night, when I bent her over the railing of the deck and fucked her hard and fast, while a few of my patch brothers watched. I grip a handful of her bun, pulling it backward to arch her neck.

“Yeah? You like my cock stretching your pussy, Cora?”

She visibly shivers against me. I know she does. That’s why she comes and begs for it, why she whines and pouts when she sees me with other bunnies. Her jealousy doesn’t bother me, and while she may hope like hell I get my head out of my ass someday, she knows deep down I won’t. I’m not the type to settle down. Cora pushes her hand down my pants, gripping my rapidly hardening cock, thumb running over each of my piercings. My hand tightens in her hair, my other hand slidingup her dress to rub against her pussy. Her panties are already wet, and I slide two of my fingers back and forth against the spot, making her arch into me.

“Maybe you can take me back to your room later? Let me have a ride on the dick I love so much.” My cock shrivels up at the thought. While I love having public sex, love putting on a show, knowing eyes are on us, there’s a whole other reason I only fuck patch bunnies out in the open. I don’t do intimacy. None of them have ever seen inside my bedroom, and I sure as fuck don’t bring them back there to make love in my bed.

I grip Cora’s wrist hard enough to get her attention, but not enough to cause her pain. She hasn’t done anything wrong, and I’m grateful for her being here, but she can’t cross my boundaries, just like I won’t cross hers.

“You know that’s not gonna happen, so quit trying. You want me to fuck you? I’ll fuck you, but it won’t be more than that.” I pull her hand from my jeans and take a step back, putting some space between us and adjusting my dick to a more comfortable position.

Cora pouts, her pink lips pursed, her arms crossing at her chest. Her disappointment and frustration don’t bother me in the slightest. She knows the deal, and I can’t control her feelings when she doesn’t get what she wants. I’ve always been up front and honest. If the chick has it in her head she can change me, she’s got another thing coming.

“I’ve got to be in church. I’ll see you later,” I reply curtly, second cup of coffee long forgotten.

“Sure thing.”