Nowhere (Crimson Outlaws MC #1) Page 13

  “So the blondes sign contracts to strip in these clubs, and to be at your beck and call? Are these the only type of enterprises you’re a part of? Or are there more?” I’m not being a bitch, or rude. I genuinely want to know. No judgment here.

  “I mostly dabble in the strip club industry with a few side businesses as well. What I failed to mention earlier, is that after I hire these women and we have our private dinner, I then send them to be trained. Following six weeks of classes, if they turn out to be lucrative for a club, I send them to one. Which is where they dance until their contract is up and they don’t wish to renew, or I pull them to work somewhere else,” Wes explains.

  This is interesting. Being a school teacher, I’m sure you’d think I’d be bored. Yet, I find myself intrigued by self-made business owners. Nash has run his bar for many years, as well as my mother running her shop. There’s a serious appeal to it. If I had enough guts, I’d start my own business. Then again, I don’t have a clue what I’d start. I’m not good at much else other than being a teacher and racing. Unless you consider having tried hundreds of sex toys to be an expertise. Then I guess I could go into the sex toy industry. Which is something I’d never do.

  Wes and I chat about his businesses in more detail—the inner workings, if you will. The payments and all kinds of fascinating elements that some people never think about. I find myself truly in awe of him, and his ability to make so much money in the industry. As time wears on, I start to think about his other side businesses, and about Kelly, who, thanks to her looks, would fall into Wes’s type. So when I bring this up to him, I don’t even think twice.

  “My brother, Nash, happens to be dating a blonde just like the women you associate with. She also works as a waitress in the strip club that’s in the town where my parents live.”

  “Your brother who owns Nowhere, right?”

  Holy fuck! How’d he know that?

  Wes raises his hand to stop me before I go on a tirade, wondering how in the hell he knows about Nash! The hairs on my arm stand on end, and I sit up straight, my eyes burrowing into his, seeking answers.

  “Now, before you get all bent outta shape, I wouldn’t have strategically hired you if I didn’t know who your family is. Yes, I’m well aware of your brother being in the Crimson Outlaws motorcycle club. I know about your mom and step-dad, too,” he explains calmly.

  “Then you know about Kelly, as well … Nash’s girlfriend.”

  Wes nods, rubbing the back of his neck. This is his tell. I’ve already picked up on it. Whenever he’s uncomfortable, he rubs there. It’s sexy in a way since it gives me a fantastic view of his bicep contracting. Mmmm.

  His voice draws me from ogling his arm like a hungry wildebeest. “She’s … now don’t get mad—”

  Uh oh. When someone tells you that, it’s not a good sign.

  “I won’t,” I lie.

  Wes frowns like he doesn’t buy it, but continues regardless. “Kelly is one of my employees,” he speaks carefully.

  I grind my molars.

  You’ve gotta be kidding me. Why don’t I know this? Nash has been dating the chick for years. Wouldn’t I have known she works for some millionaire playboy? Nash would surely mention that to me. Unless, he was afraid of how I’d react. It’s no secret that I haven’t exactly loved all of his womenfolk. Most of them I found barely tolerable.

  “Seriously?” I remark, keeping my tone neutral.

  More neck rubbing ensues, and he starts to fidget. It must be terrible. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost want to reach out and hug him to calm his nerves, since I can tell they’re going haywire. Almost…

  “I met Kelly about four years ago. Hold on, let me back up for a minute,” he says. “I’m not sure how well you know Kelly—”

  “Not very well. Apparently.”

  “I figured. Kelly is one of those I found in an abusive relationship. A real dirtbag who knocked her around when he got drunk. So I cleaned her up and offered her a job. She was working as a waitress at some biker rallies for me since she could never make it as a dancer. It kept her busy. Then she met your brother at an event and asked to be transferred. I gave her the okay, and that’s how she ended up at the club in Chartlotteton.”

  An obvious question pops into my head, and I’m powerless to use restraint. “Have you slept with her?”

  If looks could talk, Wes’s would say, ‘Duh. I sleep with everyone I can’. So when he confirms my assumption two seconds later, it doesn’t come as much of a shock. “Of course I have.”

  “When was the last time?” I can’t help it. When I’m on a roll, I’m on a roll. Bear with me. You know you’d ask him this, too.

  Fuck, more neck rubbing, and this time, Wes glances away from me to stare at the wall. If he tells me what I think he might, I’m killing Kelly as soon as I get home. It’s one thing to piss me off and butt your nose into my business when you shouldn’t. It’s one thing to convince the one man who means the world to me that we’re too codependent. But it’s another to cheat on my family. My brother. The best man I know. The serial monogamist. I can already sense my mood shifting, and it’s not a good sign. My hands twitch in my lap.

  “Well?” I prompt impatiently when Wes keeps staring and rubbing.

  “It was … maybe … six months ago?” His words come out staggered—edgy.

  Oh hell no. One second, I’m seated, and the next, I’m launching myself at Wes, slapping him across the face. The sting in my palm means nothing to me as I go to swing with the other. On guard this time, Wes protects himself from another attack and grabs my hand, twisting it behind my back. Then the other goes there as he seizes it, too. Secured by brute strength, Wes’s chest is now molded against me. I can feel his heartbeat pounding through my breasts, or perhaps that’s mine. I can’t be sure. Collectively, our lungs pump air in and out at a rapid pace. Locking eyes, I glare at him while grumbling unhappily in my throat.

  I can’t believe this fucker slept with a claimed woman six months ago! Who does that shit? And what kind of whore cheats on Nash? That’s even more disturbing. I guess Wes doesn’t really owe anything to Nash. Except man code should suggest some sort of decorum about fucking an already claimed chick, shouldn’t it? I mean, whatever happened to bros before hoes? Does that not extend to men you don’t know? Assisting a woman in cheating on her man is screwed up, but not as bad as the dumb bitch for doing it to begin with. Hell, I shouldn’t be mad at Wes. I know this. Though, I can’t seem to calm myself enough not to try and defend Nash’s honor. If Kelly were here, I’d be the first to knock her block off. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. You’re probably thinking about me kissing Nash and all. So fucking what? That’s different.

  Wes is the first to burst this sweltering bubble of fury and aggression as his blue eyes go attractively soft. A small part of me wants to lean further into him at the knee buckling sight. It’s a good thing I’m sitting down, even though I’m still pissed at him.

  “Listen, Gwen, I know you’re angry with me for this. But I don’t actively seek out my employees with boyfriends to fuck them. That’s not my thing. However, if they’re throwing themselves at me, I’m not going to tell them no. I’m a man with only so much restraint. If she didn’t have any, then why should I?”

  I don’t know. He’s got a valid point, and I hate that.

  Wes’s words steal all of the wind out of my sails, making me suddenly tired. Today has been a long day, full of a bunch of shit. Between Garrett, Zoe, Wes, and his sex appeal that seems to cloud the entire room, I’m nearly tapped out.

  The hands securing mine loosen some but don’t let go. Being this close to Wes has his scent capturing my attention again. This time, I’m struck defenseless when the needy whore who lives deep inside my soul decides I need a little more of … something.

  Instinctively, I find my nose inching closer to the sexy curve of his neck. Wes grumbles lustfully in his throat as I rub my face there, reveling in the intoxicating spices.

  “Your smell is
incredible,” I babble stupidly, taking in another long, luxuriating breath. My pussy takes notice of our proximity and its lack of play time when it throbs involuntarily.

  Even if this is oh so wrong, I can’t seem to give a damn right now as I continuously nuzzle my nose against Wes. The feeling of his flesh on mine, the way his body twitches when I touch it, and his hands as they tighten to tug me a bit closer, force me to bite back a moan.

  A predatory rumble battles in his chest. “You’re making my dick hard, Gwen. You either stop this now, or I’m taking you to bed and eating your pussy ‘til the sun comes up.” The darkness in his tone both excites and makes me shiver all at the same time. Even my pussy loves the idea as it gets wetter and my nipples harden, eager to be toyed with.

  My nuzzling persists as I bite my lip, wanting to taste his skin. Is it salty? Sugary? Mmmmm … I wonder…

  “Gwen, I'm serious,” he’s pained. “I … fuck … Gwen … Stop.”

  Abruptly, everything is over. Wes is releasing me and yanking himself to stand as he pants for breath. The stout tent in his bottoms forces me to stare, and I wantonly lick my lips.

  Shit, this isn’t right. That dirty woman in me is taking over. This can’t be happening now. This isn’t me. He’s a male slut. I … I … what was I thinking?

  Without saying a word, I spring up from the couch and dash from the room. Guilt floods my system as my bare feet pound the hardwood and tile floors all the way to my bedroom. I vaguely hear Wes hollering for me to stop, but I don’t listen.

  In the safety of my room, I slam my door shut and throw my body against it, sliding down to the floor in shame. Dropping my head as tears of humiliation threaten to slip free, I slide my fingers through my hair. Damn it, I smelled him and let him touch me. Why did I do such a thing? It had to have been those cute pants, and all of that sensory overload. He fed me that yummy food and was honest when he spoke. Everything turned me on. Hell. I’m still turned on.

  More guilt slices me like a knife as I wallow a bit longer, trying not to cry. I have to keep everything professional between us. No more attraction to Wes. His charms cannot work on me or the whore that’s burrowed herself into my soul…

  Steeling my emotions, I push up from the floor with renewed strength. First, I’ve got to fuck my pussy into oblivion with my vibrator. Then I need to get some rest. It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow. Hopefully, Wes will forget this ever happened. I know I’m going to try.

  Wish us whatever luck you’ve got.

  Goodnight.

  Day Two

  Leisurely pacing the long dock barefoot, I listen to Garrett read to me as he sits on the edge with his feet swishing in the water. Afraid of drowning, Zoe is sunbathing on a nearby lounger that’s sinking into the white sand beach.

  “‘Got to go, Bob. Nice hang’,” Garrett recites Deadpool. “‘S’Cool the horse tranquilizer is kicking in’.” He chuckles under his breath, and I catch him shaking his head in amusement as he continues down the comic book page. “‘When he passes out, please put one of those Dog Cones around his neck’.” Garrett snickers again, wind bustling through his hair. “‘You paid cash. So sure…’”

  No sooner than my eyes fluttered open this morning, did I have an excited sixteen year old welcoming himself into my room. It was a good thing I wore pajamas to bed.

  “Time to learn, Ms. Gwen. Time to learn!” Garrett shouted, eagerly flinging his words next to his temple using his fingers. Which looks a lot like he’s trying to cast a spell into the air as he concentrates on what he wants to say.

  Flipping onto my back, I groaned, teasingly. “Come, on, Garrett; just another five minutes.”

  Garrett was having none of that when he yanked my covers off the bed and dropped them into a pile on the floor. “No, Ms. Gwen. I have to work today at the library. I need to learn now,” he explained. And with that, I poured out of bed, scurried into the bathroom, tossed on a pair of shorts and a blue tee before tying my hair up into a ponytail before starting my day.

  “Breakfast first, Ms. Gwen,” Garrett said as he escorted me to the kitchen where he ate a bowl of Lucky Charms sans the green clovers that are magically delicious. He’d picked them out beforehand, as I ate a bagel on the stool beside him.

  Afterward, we headed to the classroom, which isn’t anything more than a white room with four walls, one window, a dry erase board, and two desks—one for him and one for me. It’s blah, and not conducive for learning. So I decided we were going to have class outside today on the deck. It’s beautiful out here at a balmy sixty-five degrees without a cloud in the sky.

  We’ve been outside for a few hours, moving from one comic book to the next. At first, I’d tried to peak Garrett’s interest with a Harry Potter novel. Nope. Didn’t work. Then, I tried another tactic. I sent Zoe out to collect some comic books at this shop in town that we’d passed yesterday. Once she returned, I promised Garrett that if he read five of them to me nonstop, I’d give him a prize. Those Tetris socks I purchased yesterday are for him. I was just going to give them as a gift, but why do that when they can be earned? The motivation seems to be working. He’s almost finished with comic number four. Apparently, his past teachers were idiots, because it took me less than a day to have him reading aloud. And not only that; he does it quite well. There’s something about the way he holds the pages of the book that keep him from having to twitch or throw his hands as he talks. It’s a damn good feeling to know he’s moving in the right direction. At the end of the week, we’ll shift into writing. But for now, we’re gonna have fun doing this.

  Leaving Garrett to read more Deadpool, I walk off the dock and over to Zoe, who’s chilling in a sundress. “Are you getting any color?” I ask just as the back door opens and a shirtless Wes saunters out in a pair of running shorts.

  My mouth literally hangs open at the sight. Holy fuck! Look at those abs! Nash has abs; they’re thick and yummy as they ripple. But Wes’s abs are like a fucking washboard of eight. Yes, eight. Who has eight ridges? Evidently, him! Sweet Jesus! And I was so very wrong. He does have tattoos. One on his pec, and something across his stomach. Umm … www-wo-wow.

  I swallow to keep from drooling down my chin.

  “You might wanna close your mouth and stop staring,” Zoe suggests while giggling, and I comply, looking away from all that maleness. I haven’t seen or spoken to Wes since last night when I ran from his room. Is that why he’s out here? To show me what I’m missing. Because if it is, consider me schooled. His body be bangin’.

  “Wesley,” a high-pitched chicky voice calls, and I turn my attentions briefly back to him as two blondes in ‘Band-Aid bikinis’ exit the house.

  “Don’t let them bother you.” Zoe touches my arm, stealing my attention.

  “What? Why would they bother me?” I lie through my teeth.

  I can’t help it; they do irritate me. Especially after what I found out about Kelly last night. That little fact I still haven’t decided what I’m gonna do about yet. Nash deserves to know. And my fist is very excited about the prospect of becoming intimate with her stupid fucking face. Yep, I’m not bitter about it at all … Nope.

  Zoe eyes me like she knows I’m full of myself. “It does bother you. You were basically melting into a puddle of goo before those women came out. Now you’re sneering.”

  I am? Crap … I am. With effort, I school my features.

  “Hey, bud.” I watch Wes stride across the dock and sit beside his son. “What’cha readin’?”

  Garrett and Wes carry on for a bit as the blondes stand in wait at the edge of the dock like good little puppies.

  To keep my sanity, I tug the towel off the back of Zoe’s chair and lay it in the sand before plopping down on it. “I don’t know why they bother me, but they do. You don’t, of course. I like you.”

  Zoe pats my shoulder in sympathy. “You like Wes. It’s okay. He’s a good looking guy.”

  What?!

  I glare at her as she grins. “I do not like Wes. I hap
pen to have feelings for someone else from back home.”

  Sure, he’s hot and loves his son, which is attractive, but I barely know the guy. And I definitely don’t like him in any significant way. I don’t do insta-love shit. That’s all fairytales, and I live in the real world.

  The backdoor opens again, and one of Wes’s chefs comes ambling down the steps carrying two wicker picnic baskets.

  I incline my head toward the woman. “What’s she doin’?”

  Wes stands from the deck, pulling Garrett along with him. They look so damn cute together, father and son.

  Zoe shrugs. “I dunno. We usually have lunch in the kitchen. And Wesley eats in his office.”

  Wes and Garrett grab the baskets from the woman, then their gazes cut to us. “Ms. Gwen and Zoe, come and eat with us!” Garrett waves us over.

  For a moment, I glance to Zoe, and she looks back at me as we share a look of disbelief. Then we both walk over to the group.

  “A picnic?” Zoe asks Wes, taking the words right out of my mouth.

  Wes shrugs coolly, tagging one of the hot blondes around the neck and yanking her close. Bile rises in my throat. “Since Tonya and Terri were already here, I thought we should share a meal together. And because Gwen decided to teach Garrett outside, I figured we should have a picnic outdoors. Does that answer your question, Zoe?” Wes says her name, yet his eyes linger on me, as if he’s not speaking to anyone else.

  It becomes stranger as Wes’s gaze dips to my breasts, legs, and then back up again, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. I visibly shiver, and Wes takes notices as he grins like a cocky bastard. Jerk.