6. Willow
6
WILLOW
“Y—you think you have something to teach me?” I step backwards and someone’s hand brushes up my leg and under my dress. “Aaaah!” I lunge away from the unknown and back into the clutches of the devils I know.
Blackout catches me with a chuckle and pulls me to his right side, arm over my shoulder. “First lesson. Dragon might be an asshole but he’s right. The minute you swished your hips in here without a man to claim you, you were fair fucking game.”
“And that means anyone can do anything they want to me?” I ask, horrified. “I don’t get a choice?”
“You had the choice not to walk through the fucking doors and play with monsters if that’s what you think we are,” Dragon growls.
“No! I just… Well, I don’t know what to think,” I admit quietly.
Before I met them, I never really thought of the bikers as individuals at all. They were just the Outlaw Sons. A band of borderline—or maybe not so borderline—criminals that moved in and slowly took over the whole neighborhood. Gram didn’t tell me much about it because she was stubborn as a mule and didn’t want to worry me, but I know from Grace that things got bad a few times. Enough that about four years ago, her family sold out and moved.
Skyhigh shakes his head. “Relax, brother. She doesn’t know shit about us, but maybe it’s time we fixed that.”
He wraps a hand around my wrist and pulls me away from Blackout to lead me towards the altar. The purple haired girl has been stripped completely naked. She has one bare foot up on the marble top, and her other leg is thrown over the shoulder of a biker whose face is buried between her thighs. She’s enthusiastically slipping her tongue down the throat of a second man, with her fingers working at his belt buckle, eager for more.
“Does she look like she doesn’t have a choice?” Skyhigh asks.
I shake my head. Looks can be deceiving, but I’d be lying if I said she looked like she’s feeling anything but comfortable in her own skin. And more free than I’ve ever felt in my life. “I can’t imagine doing something like that.”
“Not even imagine?” Blackout’s hot breath skirts over my neck. “You write books. I bet you can. Let go of every concept you’ve ever been taught about what you should or shouldn’t want. Outside rules don’t apply here. If you dropped to your knees right now and sucked my cock, nobody would fucking blink.”
Once he says the words, it’s impossible not to imagine letting the beat of the music fill my veins and feel the stretch as he pushes between my lips. “But people would watch,” I say softly.
“And you wouldn’t like that?” Blackout asks, stroking a hand up my neck to cup it lightly. His thumb rests softly over my pulse. “Or are you worried you might? I don’t think you’re as shocked by all this as you pretend to be.”
A tiny whimper slips out.
Dragon steps in front of me, filling my view with nothing but him. His expression is guarded, like he isn’t quite sure what to think of me. “I’ll ask one more time. Why’d you come here tonight, Willow? What were you looking for? That’s a pretty dress.” He trails the back of his fingers over my bare chest, just above the scoop neckline that dips low enough to show off some cleavage. “Did you wear it for us?”
Telling them that I came up here to complain about the noise seems stupid. And is it even true? Sure I was feeling frustrated and annoyed, but deep down, listening to their party from alone in my house sounded different when it wasn’t just nameless, faceless men up here. I could imagine the three of them enjoying themselves and it felt… different.
I felt left out.
But what I say is, “It’s my birthday.”
Dragon’s head jerks. I don’t think that was what he expected to hear. “And you were all on your own? You got dressed up for us?”
“No! Oh my God! That’s not what I—” Crap. Does that sound rude? I shake my head and laugh nervously. “I had dinner with my friends, but they called it a night.”
“So early? No wonder you wanted to party. You’re way too sober for a birthday.” Blackout takes my hand and leads me through the crowd at the altar and to the back of the church where the bar is set up. He pulls out four shot glasses—none of which match— and grabs a bottle of whiskey, pouring generously. “How old are you, honey?”
“Twenty-four.” I reach for a shot glass but he holds it away.
Skyhigh puts his fingers between his lips and whistles loud enough to be heard over the music and general roar of the party. “We got a fucking birthday girl here!”
The whole room looks up. Even the guy whose face was buried between the stripper’s legs. A cheer goes up, followed by people chanting. “Shot, shot, shot!”
“You want to do this the normal way, or the fun way?” Blackout asks.
I know they are going to think I’m lame if I say normal, but I’m afraid of what guys like them mean by fun. In my experience, it usually ends up being something everyone but me thinks is funny.
Dragon leans down and brushes my hair away from my ear to whisper. “Trust us.”
The fact that it’s Dragon saying it makes me pause. There are a hundred ways I wouldn’t trust them, mostly involving following the law, but in this case I nod. “Okay, what’s the fun way?”
“Pick one of us.”
I point at Dragon. “You.”
“Me?” He seems surprised in spite of being the one that told me to trust them.
I nod. Out of the three of them, he seems like one that is least likely to tease me.
“Alright.” Eyes on me, he falls to his knees and takes a glass from Blackout. Tipping back his head, he places the glass between his lips and waits. Ink curls up from under his shirt collar, stretched over the scar on his neck and disappears into his dark beard.
Heart pumping overtime, I swallow. “What do I do?”
Skyhigh guides me so I’m right in front of Dragon. “Wrap your lips around the glass like you’re going to kiss him, then stand up with it, taking the shot without touching the glass until you’re done.”
“I don’t know if I can,” I say quietly enough that hopefully only they will hear me.
Blackout grins. “Don’t overthink it. It’s a fucking party. Wouldn’t be the first booze to hit the floor in here.”
Right. Don’t overthink it. Hah! Overthink should’ve been my middle name. It’s just a shot. Think of it as book research.
I lean forward, very aware that maybe not the whole room, but a bunch of people are still watching. Dragon’s eyes are closed at the start, but they open when I’m close enough to smell the whiskey and the scent of his skin. Having a man like him on his knees waiting for me to do my part makes me feel a little powerful.
Don’t think. Don’t think. Don’t think.
I open my lips and wrap them quickly around the edge of the small glass. My hair falls down around us and my nose brushes his. For a brief moment, it’s only the two of us, and then I stand up before I can chicken out. The whiskey burns over my tongue and down my throat. I almost manage to do it cleanly, but at the last second I can’t hold back the cough and have to desperately grab the glass out of my mouth to keep from spraying everyone.
Cheers go up all around us. Nobody seems to care that my eyes are watering and there’s whiskey dripping down my chin.
There’s a silly grin on my face that won’t go away. “I did it!”
“Yeah you fucking did!” Blackout knocks back his shot and raises it to me. “Twenty fucking four!”
Dragon stands. He makes a show of stretching his jaw, but then he winks and takes a shot, raising his glass as well.
“To Willow,” Skyhigh says. “Happy fucking birthday.”
I lose track of the drinks after a while, sticking close to them and even dancing a little before we finally end up in the back of the church on one of their beat up but comfortable couches. Leaving my sneakers on the floor, I’ve got my legs curled up underneath me. I’m sipping on a cocktail called a Bee’s Knees made with lemon and honey. I’ve never had one before, but apparently it’s a favorite with one of the other girls around here and I can see why.
The church has quieted down, but there are still quite a few people left. Blackout is on one side of me with his hand on my thigh, and Skyhigh the other with his arm over my shoulder. Dragon’s sitting in a chair across from us. They are chatting about something, but I’m not really paying attention, just looking around and buzzing.
On the other side of the church, a woman with fiery red hair has just slid down onto her hands and knees. There’s one biker in front of her and another moving into position behind. I can’t see anything from this angle, not really, but it’s pretty clear what’s going on and I’m trying not to look, but it’s impossible to concentrate on anything else.
Being here is like falling into an alternate dimension where anything goes. My brain has long since gone numb to the shock. It makes it easy to ask questions I’ll probably regret in the morning. “Do you guys…” I nod my head in their direction.
Skyhigh looks over. “Fuck?”
“Not tonight man, I’ve got a headache,” Blackout says, wiggling his eyebrows. “Unless you’re the one asking, beautiful.” He squeezes my leg.
Skyhigh flips him off. Dragon snorts and takes a swig from his beer bottle.
“Share.” Colleen told me I needed to decide between a love triangle and a menage for the book before they start making promo materials at the latest. I’d been leaning towards the love triangle, but now I’m not sure.
The energy between us shifts at that single word. “It’s been known to happen,” Skyhigh says cautiously. “Why? You interested?”
“For research,” I clarify. “You know, the books.”
Dragon nods. “Sure.”
“It’s probably one of those things that’s better in theory, right? Like, whose hands go where? And do you have to play rock, paper, scissors for who does what? I bet it’s more work than it’s worth.”
Blackout’s hand shifts on my thigh. “Honey, I’m not sure this is a discussion you’re in a good state to be having.”
I try to sit up but it feels like too much work so I let myself sink back into the couch. “Because I’m drunk?”
Skyhigh’s fingers slide through my hair. “Yeah, because you’re drunk, and because we’re not assholes, but we’re still men.”
“I thought you wanted to teach me how to get dirty,” I say smugly.
His fingers curl, tugging at my scalp. He tilts my face up to look at him. I suck in a startled breath and my nipples tighten into hard points. The sounds of the trio having sex in the background are a constant backdrop. I can feel Blackout and Dragon watching, waiting to see what happens.
“You should go home, little girl. Go home and crawl into bed before you do something you regret.”
“Would I? Regret it?” I’m not even sure what it is. “That wouldn’t be anything new.”
Skyhigh cocks his head, curious. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.”
“Definitely sounded like something,” Dragon says.
I’m oversharing. I can feel it, but I can’t stop. “You want honesty? Sex is overrated.”
Blackout laughs. “Then you’ve definitely been doing it wrong.”
“Oh yeah? You guys keep saying stuff like that but I’ll believe it when I see it,” I snap.
Skyhigh pulls me into his lap, his fingers tangled in my hair. His voice is soft but dangerous. “You’re playing with fire.”
“Yeah, yeah, all talk and no?—”
His mouth is on mine before I know it, his tongue delving between my lips and claiming me. There's nothing sweet or tentative about this kiss. I gasp against him, my fingers dig into the worn cotton of his shirt under his vest, pulling him closer. Skyhigh sucks my bottom lip between his teeth and bites down. The sharp bite of pain brings me to my senses. I spring off of his lap, putting space between us.
He lets out a rough chuckle. “Let's go, birthday girl. Time to get you home.”
I can’t tell if I’m relieved or disappointed.