Logan
I feel like I’ve had stars in my eyes ever since Viking and Priest found me on the way back to my new apartment and took me home with them.
Nothing else truly matters except how they’ve made me feel.
And maybe that’s the little girl in me just wanting to be loved, but it feels so real. So permanent.
“Are you going to give us any details?” Connie asks as she sits on a kitchen stool while I make sweet-and-sour pork with fried rice—a comfort meal for as long as I can remember. Marie nods along as she steals a piece of diced carrot, munching on it while wiggling her brows suggestively.
Chewing my lip, I hesitate until I register their encouraging smiles and hear Carly in my ear telling me to let them in. “Well, it’s all very new, but they really know how to make a girl feel good.” And I don’t just mean physically. My heart is healing with them.
“They’re part of the Kings of Anarchy MC, though, right? Aren’t they like dangerous? I heard they’re hired killers,” Marie whispers like they can hear us.
“I mean, I don’t know. Not really. They don’t talk about club things with me.” Marie’s words make me question what I do know about them now.
“You’re with both of them?” Connie’s brows pull together. “How is that even possible?”
The most wicked blush of my life reddens my face, and both girls giggle as I turn to the stove to watch the pan of rice fry.
“No need to be embarrassed,” Marie says. “It’s a girl's dream come true. Is it… I mean, do you think it’s long-term or just for fun?”
I’m about to say for fun when their words of ownership, possessive obsession, and the future filter through my mind. “Long term.” There’s no doubt about it.
They share a look before Connie blurts out, “If there’s a wedding, we want invites!”
“Deal!”
I finish with dinner while they get ready for a night shift at work. As soon as I’m done eating, I take a long, hot shower before doing the same. The bruising is nowhere near gone, but I’m able to hide most of it with makeup, and thankfully, the club’s lighting will help cover the rest.
We all manage to leave at the same time, so they drop me off at Euphoria.
As soon as I walk in, several of the dancers greet me, all of them asking how I am and if I’m ready to come back.
It’s a nice feeling to be cared about. For too many years, I never had that at home.
I thought I’d find it with Trista, but that was not the case.
These girls have become a bit like family in the short time I’ve been here, and I love it.
Taking a few cleansing breaths, I double-check my outfit and makeup in the mirror and make my way out front to the bar. Grabbing a tray and my pad, I slowly begin my rounds to the tables away from the stage.
Pasting on a friendly smile, I approach a group of six men in suits who were being sat as I entered the lounge. “Good evening, gentlemen. Can I get you started with some drinks tonight?”
Fighting the urge to squirm as their gazes land on me, I remain neutral, not lingering on anyone too long as I glance from one man to the next.
“How about a private room with you?” The one who says this leers, while the others laugh a little, like they know their friend is inappropriate.
“Sorry, boys, I’m just a server. I can have one of the girls sent your way if you’d like.” They turn down my offer for now, order a couple of jugs of beer and two plates of wings, before redirecting their attention to the stage.
“We need to keep an eye on them?” asks Trevor, one of tonight’s bartenders.
“Maybe. I get the feeling this is the first time for a couple of them, but the one in the checkered tie might be the problem and lead the pack into something they aren’t ready for.” He nods and signals one of the bouncers to keep an eye out.
Before the jugs of beer are loaded onto my tray, I scoop up a basket of warm pretzel bites and add them on. The men look like they’ll need something to absorb the alcohol before their food order arrives.
“All right, guys. Here’s the beer, cups, and warm pretzel bites on the house. Wings shouldn’t be too long. I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.” Fingers graze my ass, and I fight off the urge to slap him. Instead, I swat his hand away with the warning, “Touching will get you kicked out.”
Walking away, I serve a few more tables before taking a quick break to rehydrate and grab a bite to eat from the kitchen.
“Logan, how are you feeling?” the night’s manager, Caleb, asks as he enters with hands full of dirty plates.
“Good so far,” I reply. Though I am a little tired, I place that blame on Viking and Priest for the way they’ve ravaged my body at every opportunity.
“Great. Table six is filled with a few men requesting your service tonight.” He grins because this is a first for me and something the other servers boast about because it means higher tips.
“I’ll be right out.”
Washing my hands, I slip my dish into the dishwasher and head back out front. My eyes roam the room, and my stomach drops when I realize it's Connor, Ian, and a couple of guys.
“They’ve been in here every night looking for you,” Trevor tells me, glaring at the group, obviously catching on that something's off.
“They’re problematic. Can they be removed?”
Trevor’s about to ask why when I point to my face, and if thunder had a look, it’d be the merciless stare in his now glacial eyes.
Nodding to two bouncers, he tells me to go to the employee lounge until he comes to get me, but that’s interrupted when my two knights in shining leather and chrome walk in with a few more guys from the club.
“Ah, I think I’ll stay,” I say.
He notices where my eyes are glued and, once again, catches on. Only this time, I’m eager to serve instead of dreading it.
“Still removing those assholes.” He nods to Ian’s table. I don’t fight him on it.
Loading up my tray with a jug of beer and two plates of pretzels, I stride right past Ian and Connor, who look pissed that I ignore them.
Viking has caught sight of me and nudges Priest, who gets to his feet and swipes the tray from my hands before scooping me up against his body and devouring my lips in a highly erotic kiss that leaves me panting and wanting more.
“Hi,” I squeak out when I can breathe again. “I wasn’t expecting you in here tonight.” We’d agreed to spend a night away from each other because, while I love how they make me feel, I’m also a little overwhelmed by how quickly things are moving.
“Just here for some food and to make sure you get home safely.” He nuzzles against my throat, biting gently.
“That a problem?” Viking crosses his arms, a glare in his eyes for the world to see, but I notice his lips soften, his pulse pounding in his throat, and his dark jeans tightening.
“Never,” I moan, slipping from Priest and pressing my hands to Viking’s chest, slowly pushing them up and around his neck until he leans down and gives me the kiss I’m dying for.
“I’m always happy to see you both.” I nip at him, and he breaks, taking control.
Sifting one hand through my hair while holding me against his chest with the other.
His sexy groan makes my body hum, and all I want to do is rub on him like a cat in heat. Being in their arms makes me feel whole, and I chase that feeling every chance I get.
A throat clears, so I pull back, but Viking only lifts his eyes to glare at whoever is behind me. The air shifts and becomes dangerous as I turn my head because he won’t let me move my body.
“You fucking whore.” Ian’s icy tone cuts through the warmth I was just feeling.
“I’d watch what you’re saying to her.” Swamp gets to his feet, standing next to Viking with a hand on his shoulder. “He doesn’t take kindly to insults on his woman. Neither does he.” Swamp nods to Priest, who is now standing just behind Ian.
“Who the fuck are you?” Viking asks.
“My stepfather,” I answer quietly, knowing this will not end well. “You should leave Ian.” I try for reason.
“Not until he takes his dirty hands off you, and you come back home.” He stands taller, but I can tell he’s nervous.
“Not happening,” Priest growls. “She belongs here.”
“I don’t want to do this here. Please, Viking.” His eyes briefly meet mine, and I hold my breath because he’s never appeared so savage.
“Hellcat’s right. Why don’t we have a word outside?” He cuts a look to Easy, who sits back down, a sly grin on his face. “Keep in the front, make Easy’s job simple.”
I nod; he releases me, and he and Priest usher Ian, Connor, and the men they’re with outside. Swamp follows, rubbing his hands together, like he’s about to get a sweet treat.
“That’s not going to end well, is it?” I ask Easy.
He ignores my question, instead asking, “How are the wings here? And do they have the boneless bites?”
Staring at him for a minute to catch up, I finally respond, “Yes, we have boneless bites, cactus-cut fries, too, with house-made seasoning. You want a plate?”
“Yeah, honey-garlic sauce with extra on the side for dipping.”
Nodding again, I return to the bar to place his order. My eyes remain focused on the front doors until Trevor snaps his fingers in my face.
“Your boys in suits want a couple more jugs of beer there.” I turn towards them, noticing that they’re trying to wave me down. “I’m sure those bikers of yours are fine.” Trevor winks while setting the order on my tray and waving me off.
Plastering the smile back on my face as I approach the customers, Easy catches my eye. The huge grin on his face makes me uneasy.
“Here we go, gents. Can I get you anything else?”
Their round of lascivious suggestions makes me cringe because I made it clear earlier that I only serve food and drinks, but I respond with, “Nothing else then?”
Half drunk, they continue with comments I ignore until I feel a heavy presence at my back and notice some of their faces go pale.
Glancing over my shoulder, I see a snarling Viking, with a cut on his cheek and blood on his face, neck, and shoulder. This won’t be good.
“I’m fine, Viking. They’re just ignorant.” He doesn’t care, however. He must have heard some of the things they said to me. In all honesty, I tuned them out.
“You boys have a death wish tonight?” Priest asks as Viking continues making animalistic sounds that are a little scary. They all shake their heads. “Strongly suggest you learn some manners then; it’ll keep you alive longer.”
This is not how I pictured the evening going. I just wanted to come to work, decompress a little, and get a good night’s sleep before seeing my two bikers again.
Viking grips my ponytail and drags me away to a private corner where he pins me against the wall and inhales deeply as he presses his face to my throat. “Don’t fucking do that again.” His threatening tone makes me hotter than it should.
“Do what?” I gasp when he nips my neck.
“Try getting me to back off when it comes to protecting you against assholes like those fuckers. I don’t back down. Ever. And I need you to understand that.”
Chewing on my lower lip, he grips it with his thumb and tugs down, forcing me to answer, “Yes, Viking.” Do I sound breathy and desperate? Because I feel it. My body craves them to take me again, however they want.