Chapter 7
Chapter seven
Pretty Boy
The next morning, Lila was curled up in one of the booths at the clubhouse with a hangover.
She wore an oversized hoodie that I suspected belonged to her dad, with a tiny pair of tight pink shorts that drove me to distraction.
Her glossy black hair was twisted up in a messy bun.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen her without makeup like this—no lipstick, no mascara, no eye liner.
Nothing but a bit of chapstick as she nursed a cup of coffee, looking like she hadn’t slept all night.
It boiled my blood that Sweeney was in her apartment, waiting for her. I was supposed to protect her from this. I was supposed to be her shield so no one could get to her.
As soon as she told me what happened, I called an emergency meeting in Chapel.
Everyone filed into the meeting room now, with shuffling footsteps and scraping chairs as they took a seat. It felt strange to be in Hillbilly’s position at the head of the table, with his gavel before me. And everyone was looking in my direction, waiting for me to lead them.
My stomach twisted and I swallowed around the knot in my throat. Would this ever get easier? On one hand, I knew it was an honor to be given this responsibility. And on the other hand, it was daunting to have the whole club hanging on my word, my order.
“This business with Sweeney might get bloody, boys,” I said. “If you need to back out because of your kids, wives, girlfriends, now is your chance. We won’t hold it against you.”
No one said anything. A few men shifted in their seats. Ironside cleared his throat to speak.
“What does our financial situation look like?”
I shook my head. The club had a joint account that everyone had access to for emergencies like this one. And we kept a chunk of cash on hand in the safe in the office here at the clubhouse.
But I’d crunched the numbers already and we would still come up short.
“If we used every penny we had,” I said. “We might be able to cover half of Hillbilly’s debt. If we’re lucky.”
“Would that buy us some time at least?” Psycho suggested. “Maybe we could talk Sweeney into an extension.”
“We’re not talking about a bank, kid,” Hades said. “This is the Irish mafia. He tried to gut Hillbilly like a fish for telling a bad joke about him, claiming it damaged his reputation.”
“Then we’ll fight back,” Bruiser said, curling his hands into meaty fists.
I didn’t mind the rush of a physical altercation once in a while, especially after Sweeney kept threatening Lila. I would have gladly knocked out a few of his teeth for that alone.
It didn’t demonstrate good leadership though. Jumping straight into violence was a lazy solution. I wanted to keep my people safe, not put them in harm’s way if I had a choice.
“We are not fighting unless we have to,” I said.
“But there isn’t enough time to put together a fundraiser,” Ironside pointed out. “We can’t come up with that kind of money on such short notice.”
“I’ve got a car in my garage that’s just gathering dust,” Recoil offered. “I was going to strip it for parts anyway. It probably wouldn’t be much, but it’s something.”
“I picked up a thousand bucks at a fight last weekend,” Brass said. “It might not make a dent, but I’m happy to pitch in what I can.”
I held up a hand to quiet them.
“I appreciate the suggestions. But I’ve got it covered. I called in a favor from a friend. He owes me. I’ve crunched the numbers and I think this will cover it, along with a portion of the club’s savings. Then Hillbilly and Lila are free and clear. Does anyone have a problem with that?”
No one said anything. A few members exchanged glances with a shrug.
“That’s fine with us, Prez,” Viper said.
My breath caught in my throat. Prez. That was Hillbilly’s title, not mine. But it still sounded pretty damn good to hear it.
“Is there something else on your mind?” Hades prompted.
“I don’t trust Sweeney,” I replied. “He might have a trick up his sleeve, and I want every one of you to be on your guard. Take whatever measures necessary to protect your families. I’m not expecting violence, but I’d rather be cautious than unprepared.”
After the meeting was dismissed and everyone headed out—some to their homes, others to the bar for coffee and breakfast—I made my way to the parking lot. Five minutes later, a Steele Repair tow truck rolled up next to me, pulling a trailer.
Rex Steele climbed out of the truck, greeting me with a firm handshake.
I met Rex ten years ago, when I got my first motorcycle and she needed more repairs than I could manage on my own.
He was like a big brother to me, explaining how the engine worked, showing me all the inner workings of my bike and how to make her purr like a dream.
“I got your message about selling your bike,” he said. “Are you leaving the club?”
“Hell no,” I replied. “It’s just time for a change, that’s all. I figured that she’s in her prime and I could get a pretty penny for her if I sell now.”
Rex circled my bike, looking her over. She was gorgeous—lush dark red, polished chrome, buttery leather seats, with a ride as smooth as melted chocolate—and I knew he would appreciate that.
“I have a guy who would be interested,” he said at last. “He’s a collector, and he’d love to have a beauty like this in his collection.
He’s willing to pay top dollar, too, so you don’t even have to haggle about the price.
Are you sure you’re ready to part with her though? She’s been with you for so long.”
I stifled a sigh. It wasn’t an easy decision and I hated to let my bike go. But I had to do it. For Lila’s sake. The club didn’t have enough cash to cover the debt. And I wasn’t willing to put the club in the line of fire by pissing off the mafia.
Besides, as acting President, it was my job to make the sacrifices necessary to keep my people safe.
“As long as she goes to someone who will care for her, that’s what matters,” I replied. “It sounds like this guy is willing to make sure she retires in style.”
“Oh, she’ll be well taken care of,” Rex replied. “I promise you that.”
After helping Rex load my bike onto his trailer, he made a call and gave me a thumbs up.
“The cash will be wired to you within the hour,” he said. “She’s in good hands.”
I watched as Rex drove away with a bittersweet pang in my chest, taking my bike with him until he disappeared around the corner and out of sight. I knew it was the right thing to do, but fuck, it was still hard.
When I turned back to the clubhouse, Lila was standing in the doorway with her arms crossed.
I tried not to stare at her thick thighs and how soft they looked.
Memories of yesterday flooded my mind—her searing body heat, the salty taste of her skin, the way she moaned and arched into me when I touched her.
“Did you just sell your bike?” she demanded.
I shrugged, sliding my hands into my pockets.
“We have to pay off Sweeney somehow.”
Lila’s brows drew together with a frown of disapproval.
Incoming, I thought, bracing myself for the wrath she was about to unleash on me.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Too bad,” I replied. “It was my decision.”
“But now I owe you,” she shot back.
I arched an eyebrow.
“I bet that pisses you off, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, actually, it does.”
Despite my best attempts to hide it, a smirk still played across my lips. Lila didn’t owe me anything. This was my responsibility as President to look after my club, and that included her. Whether she liked it or not.
Lila growled and marched up to me. She grabbed the front of my cut with a tug.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Less talking, more moving.”
I sighed, letting her lead me into the alley behind the clubhouse. Cardboard boxes were piled up next to the dumpster back here, and a single light bulb above the rear exit glowed with a wan, yellow light.
“Take off your pants,” she said, hands on her hips.
I huffed a dry laugh.
“This is either my greatest fantasy or my worst nightmare, depending on what comes next.”
She rolled her eyes and stepped forward, unhooking my belt.
“Fine. If you’re going to dawdle, I’ll have to do it myself.”
“Lila, no.” All humor had vanished from my voice. I caught her wrists, holding them away from me. “I meant it when I said you don’t owe me anything. This was my decision. I chose to sell my bike.”
“Why?” she protested. “You loved that damn thing. It’s been with you since you were a Prospect.”
Releasing Lila’s wrists, I cupped her face in my hands.
“Because I made a promise to your dad. He put himself in debt with his enemy to protect his club, to protect you. And I get it now. I completely understand why he did that. Was it stupid? Yeah, a little. But I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you or any of my brothers on my watch.
Selling my bike is a sacrifice I’m willing to make, again and again, as long as it means that no one gets hurt. ”
Lila chewed the inside of her cheek as she studied my face, listening.
“I didn’t do it so you’d sleep with me, Lila,” I said. “As much as I would love to hold it over your head, you don’t owe me a damn thing. Is that clear?”
She lowered her gaze and nodded.
Then she reached for my belt again, more gently this time.
“Lila, I said—”
“Shut up,” she replied, flicking a sharp glance at me. “I heard you. But I’m sober now. And we have unfinished business.”
I took a breath to protest then broke off with a groan as Lila wrapped her fingers around my cock.
“This doesn’t mean anything, remember?” she insisted.
I nodded, pressing back against the brick wall as I thrust my hips into her grasp. Lila dipped her head, sucking at my pulse. She squeezed and stroked my cock, twisting her wrist over the crown with perfect pressure to make my knees shake.
“I thought you weren’t—fuck—” I croaked, fighting to focus long enough to get my words out. “I thought you weren't impressed with my toothpick dick?”
Lila hummed with amusement.
“Are you fishing for compliments right now?”
“Just hoping you might admit that you were wrong for once.”
She laughed, low and soft as she nibbled at my jawline. I swore under my breath. My world narrowed to the wet heat of her mouth and the steady rhythm of her grip.
“Don’t hold your breath. That will never happen as long as I live.”
Then she crouched down, eyes bright as she licked along my length. I dropped my head back with a moan. She closed her lips around my cock, dragging her tongue in slow circles.
“Fuck, Lila,” I rasped.
She slid her hand under my shirt, digging her nails into my abs with a burn. I cupped the back of her head as she sucked, licked, and swallowed until I was delirious with pleasure. Every muscle trembled with my impending orgasm, ready to explode at any moment.
“Shit—Lila—I’m coming—”
Lila locked eyes with me as she took my cock down her throat. I pulsed and twitched as I came, knees nearly buckling from the force of it. Then I sagged against the wall, feeling loose and wrung out.
Lila swiped the back of her hand across her mouth as she stood.
My cock still throbbed, stiff as a board and glistening with her saliva.
She gripped it possessively and leaned in close.
With her tits pressed against my chest like this, even through the thick fabric of her hoodie, I could feel her pebbled nipples. She definitely wasn’t wearing a bra.
“I better not hear you bragging about this to your buddies,” Lila said.
Wrapping my arms around her, I squeezed her ass.
“Just as long as you don’t go telling everyone that I have a toothpick dick,” I said. “Which is a blatant lie, by the way.”
Lila chuckled, bumping her nose against mine. She brought her mouth within kissing distance to mine, brushing my lips as she spoke.
“Then make me feel it. Change my mind.”
Accepting her challenge, I hooked my fingers into Lila’s shorts, tugging them down. Her tiny, neon pink thong practically glowed against her brown skin.
“Oh, you fucking tease,” I murmured.
Lila grinned and turned around, pushing back against my groin. My cock settled between her perfectly plump ass cheeks. I frantically dug a condom from my pocket and rolled it on. Then I pulled her thong aside, guiding my tip to her slick pussy.
She let out a pleased little sound as I sank slowly into her, savoring every hot, silky inch of her walls surrounding me. I slid my hands under her hoodie, along the dip of her waist and the pillowy swell of her stomach.
I smiled as I cupped her tits—no bra, I knew it—rolling and pinching her nipples until Lila swore and clenched around my cock. I laughed softly, burying my face in her neck, breathing in the sweetness of her warm skin.
I had pictured sex with Lila very differently than this. Spreading her out on a mattress and taking my time with her. Edging her until she punched me in the shoulder as she snapped, just make me come already, you fucking jerk.
I should have known Lila was too impatient for that, mushy, romantic shit. She wouldn’t dare allow any damn feelings into her sex life, and certainly not with me.
I was mesmerized by the sight of my cock swallowed by her pussy with every thrust. It didn’t take long before I was dripping with her cream.
Lila reached back and gripped my thigh to stabilize herself, her breathing shallow and her legs shaking.
“Harder,” she said. “Right there, yes—”
She broke off with a gasp. I clutched her hips for leverage, pistoning into her like a man possessed. I could think of nothing else except the primal need to see her fall apart on my cock.
Threading my fingers into her hair, I tugged Lila’s head back, pulling her against my chest. I locked an arm around her waist, pulsing my hips up into her and grinding hard. Lila’s eyes fluttered closed.
“Oh, my God,” she said with a shaky exhale. “Don’t stop.”
I wrapped her up in my arms, surrounded by her scent, her heat. Slipping my hand between her sticky thighs, I rubbed against her clit in hard, unrelenting circles.
Lila shattered with a wrecked whine, squirming on my cock. She arched her back, resting her head on my shoulder, riding wave after wave of ecstasy that shivered through her body.
The way her pussy was wringing me dry, I didn’t last much longer. A few sloppy thrusts later and I tipped over the edge after her, burying my cock deep with a grunt.
I smiled, smug with satisfaction, and skimmed my hands over Lila’s bare curves. But I pushed my luck when I couldn’t resist giving the strap of her thong a flirty little snap.
Lila swatted my hand.
“Ow. Asshole.”
She pushed away, adjusting her clothes, pulling up her shorts. I tossed my condom in the dumpster.
“Don’t expect this to become a regular thing,” she warned.
“Right. Wouldn’t dream of it.”
But Lila still stole a quick glance over her shoulder as she walked away.
If I played my cards right, I might have a chance to change her mind. As long as we agreed that it didn’t mean anything besides scratching a mutual itch and releasing some sexual tension.