Chapter 5
CHAPTER FIVE
“ B ull, long time.”
Turning, Bull smiled at the MC’s Enforcer, Six.
He wasn’t quite as tall as Bull, but he carried himself like the biggest guy in the room, gaze always moving and assessing.
His face was usually locked down in a serious expression—sometimes downright scary—but Bull had known him for years and knew he was a good man. He just… didn’t smile much.
“Hey, Six.” Bull shook his offered hand and clapped him on the shoulder, grinning when Six raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t shake off the touch.
He had to wonder though—how many times would people comment on how long it had been since they’d seen him?
It wasn’t like he used to be a regular. Though, now that he thought about it, he didn’t think he’d come around since the club’s New Year’s party. “Yeah, been staying busy.”
Six’s eyes—one bright blue, the other golden brown—said he wasn’t buying it, but he didn’t press. It wasn’t his style. “How are your moms?”
Rolling his eyes, Bull took a drink of beer.
“Ma’s good, but Mom has been gossiping with Houston’s mom about the club.
I was going to let him know.” He cleared his throat, trying to figure out how to phrase the next part.
“Uh, apparently, word is getting out about something to do with… sex parties?”
“Fuck’s sake,” Six muttered, the curse only audible because the music was transitioning to a new song. He jerked his head, indicating he wanted Bull to follow him, but he hesitated, glancing back at Malcolm. It didn’t feel right to just take off or expect him to traipse along behind Bull all night.
They’d drifted apart, Bull closer to Six and Malcolm leaning toward Ollie and another young man with loose curls.
He could only see Malcolm’s profile, but it was enough to tell his eyes were huge, mouth gaping.
This was a common reaction to Ollie though, so he wasn’t actually sure if Malcolm needed rescuing.
When Six saw what Bull was looking at, he stepped up next to him and sighed. “Ollie, are you terrorizing Bull’s friend?”
Six’s boy smiled widely, skipping over to press himself down Six’s front and plant his hands on his chest. His skirt barely covered his ass, and his midriff was bare, which wasn’t unusual for him, but it always impressed Bull that he could be so comfortable in his own skin.
And that no one in the MC ever batted an eye at him—unless he was being particularly bratty.
Bull eyed the diamond-encrusted ring on Ollie’s left hand, trying to remember if Marv had mentioned Six and Ollie setting a date for their wedding yet.
He didn’t think so, and he’d like to think he’d get an invite, but he couldn’t be sure.
It was one of the drawbacks of keeping the club’s members at arm’s length; he was never really sure how good of friends they were.
But it didn’t feel right, encroaching on Marv’s territory too much.
His brother was a member, not him. Hell, Marv was a damn officer .
He’d carved out a life for himself with the Devil’s Hands, and even if that made Bull jealous sometimes, he’d never try to take it away.
“Terrorizing? Of course not, Daddy. I’d never do that.” Ollie winked at his friend, he and Malcolm having followed Ollie over.
Six shook his head, but his face was soft in a way it only ever was when he was looking at Ollie. “Are you trying to earn a punishment, boy?”
The friend snorted. “When isn’t he?”
Worried Malcolm might be uncomfortable with the openness that was common with the club, Bull studied his face.
He was looking back and forth between Six and Ollie like he was afraid he’d miss something, his eyes still a little wide and cheeks flushed.
Surprised but not horrified. That was good.
As crazy as some of the shit Ollie said and did was, he’d probably be a good friend for Malcolm.
As far as Bull could tell, Malcolm only really had Dahlia—and Becca by extension—and being friends with someone as outgoing as Ollie could be good for him, help him get out there and meet… someone else.
Swallowing, Bull dropped his eyes and took a drink of his beer, ignoring the fact it tasted like shit suddenly. He wouldn’t be selfish and hope Malcolm stayed single when it made him so unhappy. He wouldn’t be that guy.
Leaning down, Six said something in Ollie’s ear, causing the younger man to squirm and nod eagerly. Despite his depressing thoughts, Bull couldn’t help but chuckle at the smirk on Six’s usually stern face as he turned Ollie around by the shoulders and gave him a hard smack on the ass.
Ollie’s friend laughed, but it was Malcolm’s reaction that held his attention.
He jumped at the slap, startled, but the way he wet his lips, a soft flush growing on his throat…
Bull had to look away again. He’d bet the diner that Malcolm was turned on by the spank, and Bull could not handle the knowledge of what he looked like aroused.
He scolded his dick for reacting, reminding himself Malcolm was probably imagining giving a woman that sort of proprietary treatment, not being on the receiving end.
Or maybe he would like to be treated that way—Jesus fuck, why would his brain suggest that?
—but he wouldn’t be imagining someone like Bull doing it to him.
It’d be someone like the female bartender he’d been checking out.
Someone feminine and beautiful in a way Bull could never be.
“I’m going to borrow Bull,” Six was saying, drawing Bull’s attention back to what was happening and away from his internal spiral. “Keep his friend company.”
“Yes, Daddy,” Ollie chirped, threading an arm through Malcolm’s.
“Oh, he doesn’t—you don’t have to do that,” Malcolm said in a rush, turning to Ollie. He seemed embarrassed, tugging on one of his earlobes. “I’m sure you don’t want to babysit me. I’ll be fine on my own.”
Before Bull could figure out how to insist, Ollie laughed and pinched Malcolm’s cheek. “That’s adorable. This crowd will eat you alive if you’re left on your own.” He shot a sly glance at Bull. “Unless that’s what you’re looking for? In which case, Mase and I can help find someone to devour you.”
“Totally!” Mase agreed, even though it hadn’t looked like he was paying any attention, staring at something across the room with a spacy, vacant look.
“Oh, I… Um.” Malcolm glanced around, seemingly overwhelmed at the idea. When his gaze landed on Bull, he dropped his eyes, face reddening.
Bull squeezed his hands into fists to stop himself from yanking Malcolm away from Ollie and into his side, making the decision for him and offering silent comfort all at once.
Grinning like the devil personified, Ollie waggled his eyebrows at Bull and started pulling Malcolm away. “We’re going to have a blast.”
“Behave, boy,” Six called after him, but Ollie only threw an air-kiss over his shoulder before the three of them were swallowed by the crowd on the makeshift dance floor.
“Come on,” Six said, turning in the opposite direction. When Bull still hesitated, he snorted. “Ollie’ll make sure your boy’s safe.”
Annoyingly, Bull felt his face heating. He scowled at Six. “He’s not my anything. We’re just friends.”
Barely even that, though he supposed they were moving in that direction. And that was… good. Great even. If “friend” was all he could hope for, then he’d be the best damn friend Malcolm had ever had.
Six didn’t say anything about his denial, but Bull had the distinct impression he didn’t believe him. Which was crazy. Why would Bull deny them being in a relationship when Malcolm was perfect?
“Busybodies,” Tomas muttered, taking a sip from his lowball glass and shaking his head. He didn’t seem overly concerned about the fact that Bull’s mom knew about club business—he was still sort of reeling at the fact they were actually having sex parties—but he didn’t seem pleased either.
Tomas had been the MC’s President since the Michigan chapter’s creation, having split off from the founding chapter down South. He had to be at least a decade older than Bull’s thirty-five years, his dark hair gaining a little more gray every time Bull saw him.
Though, he figured that could also be from the stress of managing the club and all of its businesses. Marv didn’t share a lot with him about all the pies the MC had a piece of, but Bull knew enough to be impressed with Tomas’s savvy management decisions.
“I’ll talk to my mom,” said Houston, the MC’s Vice President, barely hiding his grimace. He was a big Black guy with solid muscles but the most easygoing attitude of any of the club’s officers. Always quick with a smile and a genuine question about how a person was doing.
His boyfriend, Kenneth, was curled up next to him, eyes half-closed. The golden-brown skin of his torso was beautifully displayed with an intricate design of a teal rope. Houston was an artist with his ropes, apparently.
Bull was learning all kinds of shit that evening.
“And Cynthia,” Houston added. “Though I don’t know that either will listen to me.”
His sister Cynthia was the club’s lawyer and a complete badass. Bull had only met her once, but it was enough for him to be intimidated by her. He was grateful he wasn’t the one who had to tell her she needed to be careful about talking club business in earshot of her mom.
Tomas grunted, then turned to Bull expectantly.
He held up his hands. “Yeah, no. You want someone to tell Sally to mind her business, you better ask Marv or do it yourself. She will not listen to me.”
Plus, there was no chance he was risking hearing her say the words sex party again.
Tipping his head to the side in consideration, Tomas scratched at his salt-and-pepper beard. “I’ll stop by Bo’s sometime next week. Impress upon her the importance of discretion.”
Bull tried to hide his shock. He hadn’t actually thought Tomas would want to do it himself. “Alright. She’s usually there in the mornings, so breakfast would be a good time.”