Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Stripped
N ot knowing the full aspect of what was happening, the scene had a touch of care and romance to it. A woman not feeling the greatest, getting sick. A man next to her, rubbing her back, letting her know it was okay and she wasn’t alone.
Zoom in and it was a far cry from that.
I can’t believe you cried like that in front of Slade, Nelle thought as though she were able to pull herself from her body and yell at herself.
“I’m good now,” she finally whispered in a defeated voice.
“I think you’re far from fucking good, sweetheart.”
“Wow. I needed to hear that.”
“Come on, you have to get out of those clothes and get cleaned up.”
Nelle looked at Slade. “What?”
“No offense, but you smell like vomit. You have puke on your knees, on your pants. Some on your shirt. You’re not getting into my bed like this. Take a fucking bath and rinse off. Better yet, run the shower and just sit there for a minute or two.”
A voice in Nelle’s head told her this was a good idea. A great idea. She placed her hands on the edge of the tub and pushed herself up. She made it about three inches before the room began to spin and her hands slipped. Slade had to quickly grab her to keep her from smashing her face against the side of the tub.
“You’re toasted, sweetheart,” Slade said. “Fuck.”
“You are not going to strip me and eye fuck me and touch me,” Nelle declared.
“Not much of a choice here, Nelle. I’m going to help you stand, then undress you. I’ll stand behind you.”
“Like that makes it any better,” Nelle snapped.
“Want me to have Monte help?”
Nelle’s glossy eyes looked up at Slade. “You bastard.”
“This bastard is going to make sure you’re cleaned up, safe, protected, and that you get some sleep. You’ll thank this bastard in the morning.”
“You even so much as look at a nipple and I will gouge your eyes out,” Nelle warned.
Slade smiled. That only pissed Nelle off even more. She hated herself for being this drunk. Being this sloppy. It also didn’t help things that she forgot to eat dinner. That meant the booze hit even harder, faster.
Slade got Nelle to her feet. She looked down into the tub and saw the vomit had all gone down the drain. Then she felt Slade’s hands touch the bottom of her shirt. Her toes curled.
Even in her too drunk off straight whiskey state of mind, she realized the touch of Slade. His strength. His roughness. His natural state of being.
Slade lifted her shirt, rolling it in the front to make sure the spatters of vomit didn’t rub against Nelle’s skin.
Isn’t that a sweet gesture? Nelle asked herself.
Nelle raised her arms and a second later her shirt moved off her body. Slade dropped it to the floor. He moved around her body and his fingers touched the little button on her black jeans.
Nelle grabbed Slade’s hands. They both froze.
Now what? she asked herself.
“I’ll do it,” she slurred.
No! Why? There’s a huge, muscular biker touching you!
Nelle had managed to piss off the tiny, little, sort-of sober voice in her head. Slade moved his hands away. But not away from her body. Nope. Slade touched her sides, down toward her hips. The way he touched. Grabbed. Held. Images flashed through Nelle’s drunk mind.
I’m on my hands and knees, Slade is behind me. His hands holding my hips like this, pulling and pushing me, using my… my pussy… using my pussy to fuck his huge cock. Using me for his big cock to have something to fuck.
Nelle somehow managed to open her black jeans. Then that was it. She froze again. The room began to spin. Her stomach ached but there was nothing left to come out.
Slade didn’t say a word. He just took over. His large hands moving along the curve of Nelle’s hips, inside her jeans and panties, pushing both down…
Slade gritted his teeth. So far he’d kept himself calm. There was a whole lot of reality floating around right now but there was also the reality that Slade’s hands, fingertips, were now sliding along Nelle’s legs.
He looked to his right and once he got her jeans and panties down to her knees, he stopped. His hands clasped at her hips again, allowing her to drunkenly step and kick her way out of her clothing… only after she finally stepped out of her shoes.
That left just her bra.
Slade reached forward and turned the water on. He turned the shower on. Little droplets of cool water jumped and hit him.
He stood behind Nelle again… Her teeth chattered for a second, reminding herself she was naked from the waist down. Totally naked. Butt naked. Literally. She knew all Slade had to do was look down and he could stare at her ass. Her bare ass. Not to mention… the front .
Jeez, if I knew my other sister was going to get murdered and I’d get drunk and puke on a biker, then that biker was going to strip me naked so I could take a shower, I would have shaved! Nelle thought.
She felt one of Slade’s hands touch the middle of her back. The clasp of her bra. A quick pull and a quick twist. Open.
Just like that.
The weight of Nelle’s breasts pushed forward. The bra straps were now loosened and crept down her shoulders. She just had to let her bra fall to the floor. No matter what, Slade was right. She had to get herself cleaned up. Even right now, the thought of telling him to leave the bathroom, she couldn’t. She couldn’t even step up over the edge of the tub to get into the shower.
“I’m not some drunk,” she slurred.
“We all have our moments, sweetheart,” Slade said. “Right now you need to get cleaned up and get some sleep.”
Nelle’s bra fell to the floor. Her body broke out in goosebumps. She couldn’t believe she was fully naked in front of this biker.
“Listen, sweetheart, we’re going to make this really easy,” Slade said. “One quick move.”
Before Nelle knew what that meant, Slade grabbed her by the hips with intense force and he lifted her right up off her feet. He placed her right into the shower, where the water ran perfectly hot.
“Now sit your pretty little butt down for me,” Slade said, tugging at her hips.
Nelle bent her legs and Slade helped her to sit. Her back was still facing him. He was looking away as need be.
“Slade, the water is a little too hot,” Nelle whispered.
“I never heard a woman say that before,” Slade said.
“Yeah. Great. Tell me about all the women you’ve had in this shower.”
“Well, sweetheart, you’ll get the honors of being the only woman I didn’t fuck in this shower. Nicely done.”
Nelle turned her head and looked left. The water hit her skin. It felt good. A little too hot, yes, but at least it washed away… stuff .
Slade had kept his eyes to himself the entire time. His hands only touched where required. Inside his jeans, his cock twisted and pulsed. Like a thick python forced into a small bag. Gritting his teeth so hard, they were ready to shatter. Telling himself he needed to do this. He needed to get some kind of information from Nelle. Something had to make sense at some point. Something had to…
Slade adjusted the water temperature and caught his eyes moving to the left.
I’m a goddamn outlaw, okay? Fuck your rules. Fuck everything.
He looked at Nelle sitting there, her right arm under her bare tits. Her tits resting on her arm. Beautiful tits. Creamy skin. Her nipples like tight, pink buttons.
Slade backed away from the shower. “I’ll be back in a bit. Going to make one of the prospects clean up the floor.”
When Slade left the bathroom, Nelle turned her head and let the shower water hit her face. The bathroom spun and swayed. She couldn’t believe anything anymore. She couldn’t believe she was this drunk. She couldn’t believe both Thalia and Calista were dead.
Yet a small smile crept across her face… She was drunk but not blacked out. She knew Slade snuck a peek. He looked at her chest. At her breasts. A hunky biker eye fucking her.
Nelle closed her eyes. She couldn’t decide whether to laugh, cry, scream, touch herself, or just crawl from the shower and beg Slade to get behind her and fuck her until she felt nothing.
Or maybe she just needed all of the above.
Bram wasn’t having the best time of his life as a prospect for Sins of Fire Real Anarchy West . His face throbbed from Drix hitting him. None of the guys would give him something for the pain. Then Custer messed up one of the main toilets. Bram was told to clean it up and fix it. And now Bram was on his hands and knees, cleaning up vomit off the floor in Slade’s room.
“You even so much as think about turning your head and looking at her, I’ll make it so you never see again,” Slade warned.
Bram could put two and two together. A naked woman sitting in the bathtub with the shower running. Vomit on the floor.
“At least it’s not chunky, right?” Slade asked.
Bram frowned and started to cough.
“Oh, fuck, kid, don’t puke,” Slade said. “Don't make this worse. Let’s go. Move.”
Treating prospects like shit was just part of the game. These guys came through the doors of the clubhouse thinking they were walking into a TV show or a movie. Thinking they were going to get a life of freedom. Of booze, pussy, their own set of outlaw beliefs. All of that came at a price. All of it was earned.
Most prospects couldn’t make it through a weekend. Some lasted a week or two. Slade stood in a way that blocked the open bathroom door. He heard the shower still running. He looked back every few seconds to check on Nelle. To make sure she hadn’t passed out and fallen over. Or hurt herself.
Bram looked up at Slade. “We good?”
“You tell me, kid. Puke gone?”
“All gone.”
“Stick your nose against the carpet and tell me if it smells.”
Bram knew not to argue. Slade enjoyed being an asshole like this. Bram leaned forward. That’s when Slade took advantage and stepped on the back of Bram’s neck, driving the prospects face against the wet carpet.
“How does it fucking smell?” Slade growled.
“It’s fine!” Bram screamed. “I swear! It’s fine!”
Slade moved his foot and Bram started to cough again. His eyes watered up.
“Get the fuck out of my room, prospect,” Slade said.
Bram nodded. He collected the paper towels and chemical cleaners and hurried out of the room. Slade locked the bedroom door and then worked his way back to the bathroom.
Nelle sat there with the water hitting her body. She had beautiful, tanned skin. Maybe it was just her natural tone. Maybe she spent time in the sun. Slade had no fucking idea what that had to do with the murders of her sisters, then decided he was the one who needed the whiskey.
“Time to get some sleep, sweetheart,” Slade said.
He walked toward the bathtub, turned his head to the right and shut the water off. He couldn’t believe this shit. Turning his head like this. Over and over. What the fuck…
Nelle was in his clubhouse. In his room. She was welcomed here for the night. With an agreement. Nelle was Slade's for the night. That meant looking, touching, feeling, kissing, sucking, fucking. Everything.
Slade heard Nelle start to wiggle around, trying to stand up. The wet bathtub was going to make it even more impossible.
“Have to pick you up now,” he said.
He reached for a towel and tossed it over his shoulder. When his fingertips touched hot skin, Slade felt a lion-like roar ready to escape from his mouth.
Nelle felt heavenly. Nothing like the feel of a woman’s body. Something about how they were created. Designed to drive a man to the brink of insanity with just one look or feel.
Once standing, Slade opened the towel and placed it around Nelle’s body. She then fell back against him. She looked up at him. His jaw flexed. Her drunk eyes demanded a kiss. Slade spun Nelle around and he grabbed her jaw with his right hand. She gasped and clutched the towel tight around her body.
“Let me get you a T-shirt to wear to bed, sweetheart.”