Chapter 4
Nearly Two Hours Later . . .
How the fuck did Nicole’s sneaky ass neglect to tell me that her friend isn’t a regular woman on the prowl?
In an effort to carry out the mission to scare away my date, I staffed the diner with folks who would give my date anything but a warm welcome.
I entered my diner like a regular person and had Stephanie point me to the person I was looking for.
The fucking joke was on me when I stood beside my link-up for the night.
The na?ve woman Nicole wanted me to scare off was none other than Mayor Owens’ daughter.
What’s worse is that Jariyah Owens is a fine mothafucka.
From her sparkling green eyes, which most would believe were contacts to the light freckles that dance around her nose enhance her smooth, toffee skin, Jariyah’s beauty radiates from her effortlessly.
Jariyah is a woman any man would course-correct for.
Jariyah’s full, glossy lips had my dick twitching and my mind pondering if I could kiss it off.
The small glimpse of her shoulder, thanks to the shirt, had me wondering how to strategically ease it from her body.
My jaw tightens, and my teeth grind as I sit unmoving in the parking lot at the clubhouse.
The image of Jariyah’s slender nose, pretty but real eyelashes, and the starry gaze she spent the night giving me has me out of sorts.
While I did my best asshole impression to try and turn Jariyah off, I wanted to kick my own ass every time her breathing changed with the harsh words that left my mouth.
It took me until now to calm my dick enough for it to return to normal.
Fuck making Jariyah a house mouse; I want her for my own selfish pleasure.
No matter how much I tried to act neutral and unbothered in her presence with one date, Jariyah’s ass has me about to risk it all because I’ll be damned if I don’t want her little ass.
“Well, if it ain’t my Righteous. You look like you could use something to take the edge off.” The house mouse I now know as Thumpiana smiles while she rubs her fingers over my biceps, and my frown not only surfaces but deepens.
“Haven’t your people taught you not to touch things without permission?” I snap.
My aggression is a mix of offense with her being too comfortable with me and my mind still being on Jariyah’s beautiful ass. How the fuck did I go on a blind date with the intention of scaring the woman, only to find myself in a mean chokehold? I’m a fucking G, and this shit isn’t in my blueprint.
“I can tell that you need me, Righteous. Let me get you right. Please,” Thumpiana begs.
I step around her without a word because thirsty women make my dick shrivel like a three-week-old peach.
“What’s good, bro?” Smoke speaks, and I pause to dap him.
“Not shit. Ain’t it almost time for church? Why are the mice still running around? Where’s Diesel?”
Diesel is the president of Baxtown Iron MC, and Gunz is the vice president. Both men run the club with little drama and zero tolerance for bullshit. I can respect how they run the club after I heard what happened with the founder.
“All non-patched people exit right the fuck now or lose future access.” Gunz’s voice echoes around the room like an announcer at a crowded football stadium before Smoke can answer my questions.
The sound of shoes and heels bounces around the room as a chuckle escapes my mouth, because it’s clear nobody wants to lose their entry into our club. My phone buzzes, and I pull it from my pocket as my jaw ticks when I see Nicole’s name with an incoming text. I take a minute to open the message.
Little Pain:
How did the date go? Your location tells me that it’s over. Were you able to scare her?
Hell no. Instead of scaring her away, I fucked around and gave her a reason to be bold.
The statement rings in my mind as a reminder of Jariyah doubling down and practically strong-arming me into adding her number to my phone.
“Alright, bring y’all asses over here so we can call church to order.” The heavy demand in Diesel’s voice brokers no argument as I place my phone back in my pocket without replying to Nicole.
I walk over and take a seat before Deacon and Squeak enter the room, holding hands. The love in Deacon’s eyes causes my chest to tighten as a foreign emotion settles within me. Jariyah’s face flashes in my mind, and I blink rapidly so I can focus on the task at hand.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
Isn’t it obvious? You’ve been bitten by Jariyah Owens’ determination.
“Why are you mugging me and my wife, nigga?” Deacon asks, instantly snapping me out of my head.
“Shut up with your lovesick ass. I would never mug Squeak. You’re the fucking weakest link, bitch nigga,” I say.
What’s crazy is that I’m not even mad with Deacon.
I’m irritated by my wayward thoughts, the image of Jariyah, and the possibility that I may not be able to shake the woman who should be off-limits to me.
Jariyah is the forbidden fruit another strong man let a woman talk him into enjoying.
The bang of a gavel alerts me to tune in to the meeting just as my president opens his mouth to speak.
“It has been brought to my attention that we might have some heat coming from Midnight Eagles. The shit is funny because they’re the brotherhood of Satan’s Cobras.
I thought for sure that when we cut the head off their snake ass president, we would be good.
But it appears that Knight wants smoke with us.
For now, all I’m going to say is to be vigilant and mindful of your loved ones,” Diesel says.
“Damn. These fuckers never learn, I see. What are they doing to make you believe our eyes need to be open?” my club brother, Boston, asks.
“Encroaching on our territory to see how we’ll respond. For now, I want to do nothing. If shit continues, then we might have to treat them to a little game of show-and-tell,” Diesel answers.
“Aw, man. Here we go with this shit,” Shadow grumbles.
I rub my hands together at the thought of getting active and the opportunity to let Diva play.
“Oh, I pray shit gets nasty then. Diva has been doing sit-ups and is ready for some action.” I smile.
“Man, how is that little ass dog able to do sit-ups? You know what? Don’t even answer that shit. You’re just as special as that touched ass nigga,” Shadow says before he points to Deacon, who laughs maniacally for a second before he replies.
“It’s alright if you’re more bitch made than the rest of us, bro.” Deacon smirks.
It wasn’t lost on me that most of the club owned some type of animal that they used to torture and kill people.
Well, everybody except Shadow and Deacon.
In Deacon’s case, his hands speak for him, while Shadow’s patience makes his nine-millimeter his weapon of choice.
The first time I brought Diva to the clubhouse, Shadow made the mistake of calling her ugly.
My little firecracker almost bit his ankle, and he damn near twisted it to get away from her.
“Fuck you,” Shadow says before he flicks Deacon off.
Squeak giggles, and the sound causes a smile to slide into place. I have no idea how my cousin got lucky with her. But what I will say is that Big Homie was in the blessing business that day.
“Anyway, if no one else has anything to discuss, we can break up this catty ass bickering session.” Gunz interjects.
Ten minutes later, I’m lying on the bed inside the room I occupy here at the clubhouse. My eyes watch the ceiling as my mind swirls with too many thoughts to settle on one in particular.
Sending a text won’t hurt anything.
My mind echoes, and I subconsciously pull my phone from my pocket, staring at it for a second before the decision becomes action. My fingers start gliding across the keys before I can think about it good.
Me:
Still feeling brave, princess?
My heart rate increases, and I bite my bottom lip when I see three dots pop up on the screen a second after I hit send.
Jariyah:
I am so I need you to catch up. A man with motorcycle gang affiliations shouldn’t be a scaredy cat. *laughing emoji*
A chuckle falls from my mouth when I read the message before my fingers type my response.
Me:
*shots fired* Damn. Let me find out you have a false narrative about the man you happily gave your number to.
It’s not lost on me that Jariyah has negative thoughts about motorcycle clubs based on who her mother is. I can only imagine the things Mayor Owens has said about people like my brothers and me.
Jariyah:
Have you seen yourself, Mr. Righteous?
My dick hardens when I read the new message, and again, I let my fingers speak for me.
Me:
Every day. But for future reference, according to our standard dictionary, a gang is a group of criminals or young delinquents. My brothers and I are all law-abiding citizens.
“Or at least as far as your pretty ass needs to know we are,” I say after sending my message. A thought hits me and causes me to do something I’ve never done, . . . double text.
Me:
If it makes you moist, I can pretend to be whatever type of lawbreaker you want though.
Jariyah:
Back-to-back text? *giggles*
Me:
Tell me something about me that makes you want to risk it all.
Jariyah:
Your honesty, and I don’t give a fuck persona. It’s intriguing, after dealing with so many yes-men.
“Yeah. I’m definitely not one of those soft ass men you’re used to,” I say before I reply.
Me:
That’s interesting because you seem like the type to marry one of those lames.
Jariyah:
*side eye emoji*
My phone rings, and a smirk slides into place as I answer. “Did I offend you again, princess?”
“If you don’t like me making stereotypes about you, then give me the same courtesy. I also would appreciate it if you call me by my name.”
The tone of Jariyah’s voice increases my smirk and has my dick pushing against my jeans.
“What name would you prefer?” My volume drops into an octave I know women can’t resist as I lean back against the pillow with my right leg over my left.
“My mama named me Jariyah. But I wouldn’t mind if you call me by my middle name.” Jariyah’s voice is but a whisper, and there’s a sultry hint of mischief in her request.
“Oh, really? What is it?”
“Navae. Nobody calls me by it. But I have a feeling you’ll make allowing an exception worth it.”
“Hm. I like it. Navae it is. Since we’re exchanging this type of information, you should know that my parents named me Chayse. So you can call me whatever name feels good rolling off your tongue.”
At this point, I might as well fall face-first into the trap Jariyah set for me, because I can’t deny that I want her.
Even after leaving the diner, my mind has found multiple reasons to return to thoughts of this woman.
All I can hope is that my attraction and affiliation with Jariyah won’t come back to bite me in the ass once the mayor finds out.
I have done a great job of staying under the radar since relocating.
It would suck for things to turn sour for me simply by having a romantic involvement with someone who shouldn’t want anything to do with me.