“I’m twenty-two,” Em said. She didn’t seem to mind the questions at all. Kimber wasn’t the only one with boundary issues. “And I’m a virgin because I haven’t wanted to just do it with some random guy to get it over with. But every non-random guy I meet is scared of my dad. To be fair, he really is scary. My sister stands up to him, but it seems like I never can. Now I’m stuck at home, while she’s loving life in Olympia. She’s my little sister—still can’t figure out how that happened.”
“Have you always lived at home?” Kimber asked, her eyes wide with something like horror. “No wonder you’re a virgin!”
“No, I lived in Seattle for my first semester of college,” Em explained. “But I didn’t really know what I wanted to be, and as soon as word about my dad got out, the guys stayed away from me. Didn’t help that he showed up at my dorm one day and made a public announcement that any guy who tried to get me naked would lose his dick.”
“Holy shit,” I muttered, eyes wide. Kimber swallowed.
“That’s hard-core,” she admitted.
Em rolled her eyes and threw up her hands in disgust.
“That’s my dad. Mom used to keep him under control, but she’s been gone for a while now. He’s the club president, so it’s not like there’s anyone to stand up to him.”
“What about this Painter guy?” I asked. Em groaned and dropped her head to the table, banging it dramatically.
“Painter,” she said. “Painter is a pain in my ass. He was a Reapers prospect until a few months ago. Got his patch now. He seems to like me, he’s flirted with me, and he’ll scare off other guys who come around me, yet when I tried to jump his bones in the dark he ran away like a f**king chicken. Every. Single. Time.”
Kimber shook her head knowingly.
“Yup, scared of daddy,” she said. “Lost cause, babe. You need to find someone else.”
“Yeah, I know,” Em said, her voice wistful. “I could kind of understand it back when he was a prospect, so I cut him some slack. Prospecting’s hard work. But he’s got his colors now. He needed to put up or shut up, so that’s over.”
“Damned straight,” Kimber said, banging her fist down on the deck table. The whole thing rattled and we all jumped a little. “Let’s go to Spokane next weekend, the three of us. The way I see it, Maggs, Marie, and Dancer have to rat you out, because they’re part of the club. But me and Sophie? We’re free agents. Let’s get your card punched with someone disposable, and then work on finding you a man who’s not a f**king pu**y. This Painter guy is full of shit.”
“Actually, I’ve been talking to someone online,” Em admitted, flushing a little. “I really like him. A lot. We’ve been chatting for a couple months, but we just started calling each other sometimes. I’m pretty into him, but I kept hoping Painter—”
“Screw Painter,” Kimber declared. “He’s not a real man. Maybe your online guy isn’t either, but we’ve got your back. See if he’s available next week, let’s get this thing done. We’ll meet up in a public place. Get our own hotel rooms, so we can make sure you’re safe.”
Em’s eyes grew bright. The whole idea seemed sort of half-cocked to me, and I frowned.
“Okay …” she said. “Wow, I can’t believe we’re going to do this. But what about Sophie? I don’t think Ruger would want her going out like that.”
Suddenly I didn’t care how stupid it sounded. Ruger wasn’t in charge. Fuck him. Nothing quite like flaming shots to give a girl courage.
“I’m in,” I declared. “He doesn’t tell me what to do.”
“Seriously?” Em asked, peering at me in the darkness. “We’d really just go out and do this?”
“Why not? Ruger’s not my boss. And Kimber needs to get out sometimes, too. We’ll check this guy out and make a call for you about whether he’s worthy. There’s always more guys if he’s not. Trust me, if Kimber can’t find you a man, he doesn’t exist. She’s like a sexual bloodhound. Always has been.”
“Damned straight,” Kimber said without a trace of embarrassment. “I’ll ask Ryan if he can watch Noah for you, Soph. He owes me. He gets to play poker every single week, and when I was pregnant I told him that if I was sober, he should be sober, too. He totally ignored me. Also, he bought me a minivan. A f**king minivan. What kind of man does that to a woman?”
I started giggling. Em joined me, and then all three of us were laughing, and I’m still not entirely sure why. We were still cackling like drunken hyenas when Marie, Dancer, and Maggs got back. They looked funny in my clothes, particularly Dancer, who was way too tall and more than a little too curvy. She’d found some yoga pants and an old T-shirt, both of which were extremely tight in critical areas.
“Bam is going to love this,” she said, twirling for us and shaking her ass dramatically. “If he’s home tonight. Anyone know the schedule?”
“Party tonight for the brothers coming in,” Marie said. “Guess some kind of big club meeting is going down? Horse will be here in about an hour to give us rides home. Me and Maggs are throwing together breakfast tomorrow, if anyone wants to help. They’ve already lined up a pig to roast for the afternoon, so all we need to worry about is snacks and sides.”
“I can do a Costco run in the morning,” Dancer said. “Em, wanna come with?”
“Sure,” she said. “Dad said they’ll be done with church around four. You can come out anytime after that, Sophie.”
“Church?” I asked, startled. Dancer snickered.
“That’s what they call their meetings,” she told me. “No idea why, just always been that way as long as anyone can remember. Nothing to do with us, though—club business. Don’t worry about that. Your job is to have fun at the party.”
“I’m not sure I’m going to the party,” I said, losing some of my bravado. “After Ruger’s little tantrum, I think it might better if I stayed home.”
“Not happening,” Dancer said firmly. “Whatever’s between you two—and don’t think we’ve forgotten, that conversation was interrupted just when it was getting interesting—needs to be resolved. Otherwise you’ll kill each other at this rate. Going to the party is perfect.”
“Why?”
“Because he’ll either lose his shit or he won’t,” she replied. “I mean, some guy is going to talk to you at some point. Ruger loses it, we’ll see some action and you’ll get things figured out. He doesn’t, you’re off the hook and life can get back to normal. Either way, we’ll be there to watch it all, and in the end, it’s really all about us, right?”
“Um, this may shock you, but Ruger can be scary,” I said. “I don’t want him losing his shit. It’s happened before and it wasn’t nice.”
“It’ll be okay,” Maggs assured me. “These things work out at the Armory, no worries there. Maybe a good fight will clear his head.”
“I agree,” Marie said. “Get it out in the open. If you’re in front of the club, he’ll have to claim you as his property or let you go. That’s how it works.”
“You don’t find it even a little bit creepy to be called property?” I asked. They all burst out laughing again.
“It’s a different world, Sophie,” Marie said finally. “Trust me, I get how weird it sounds. When Horse first asked me to be his property, I dumped his ass. I didn’t get it back then—it’s like their own language. To bikers, being property means you’re important, special. Being an old lady is an honor and they treat it with huge respect.”
“Here’s what I wonder,” Kimber broke in. “I know a little about club life from working at The Line, but I’ve never figured this one out. If your whole identity depends on your relationship to a man, isn’t that a little f**ked up?”
Pretty good question.
“Maybe,” Dancer admitted. “But I’m not too worried about it. My identity is all my own. Always has been, always will be. It’s true that the club is for men and they usually call the shots when they’re playing with their friends. At home, though? Not so much. Bam pisses me off, I’m not suffering from a shortage of ways to make him pay.”
“Like what?”
Dancer smirked and raised a knowing brow.
“You really have to ask? Even the virgin girlie gets that.”
“Shut up,” Em groaned. “Don’t you ever get tired of discussing my sex life?”
“No,” the Reaper women chorused, and we all burst out laughing yet again.
“Here’s the thing—it’s up to you to decide what works and what’s a deal breaker,” Maggs said when the fit of giggles died down. “You lay it out for Ruger, Sophie. Either he’s on board or not, but the most important part is that you stick to your guns. If it’s a deal breaker, you’re done with him. Do whatever it takes to draw the line. I’m serious. You may have to find somewhere else to live if that happens, but don’t let him convince you there aren’t options. There’s always options.”
“No, what she really needs to do is screw him and dump his ass,” Em said, shivering with delicious glee. “He’s hot, she should just nail him. Is he any good, Kimber?”
“Don’t you dare,” I warned my friend, holding up a hand to her face. “Mouth. Shut.”
“Wait a minute! Party planning aside, we’re forgetting an important part of why we’re here,” Marie said suddenly. She turned to me. “I can’t believe we haven’t talked about work, Sophie. Sex is just way more interesting. Has Ruger mentioned a job?”
“No,” I said, more than ready for a change of subject. “I’m going to start looking on Monday. He said something about working for the club, but it seems a little weird to bring it up after this morning.”
“I manage a coffee shop for a friend,” Marie told me. Maggs, Em, and Dancer sobered, exchanging glances I couldn’t quite read. “I could really use some help in the mornings, if you have a way to get Noah to school. You’d be done by the afternoon when he gets home.”
“Um, I can look into it,” I said, wondering if my neighbor would help get Noah on the bus for me. Or maybe they had one of those morning drop-off programs?
“I think she should be a stripper at The Line,” Kimber piped up. Marie’s eyes widened.
“No way,” she said, her distaste visible. “That place is disgusting.”
“It’s a good way to earn money,” Kimber insisted. “Perfect for a single mom. She could work two nights a week and be with Noah every day. How is that a bad thing?”
“Um, the part where she sucks some stranger’s cock?” Marie asked. “I’ll bet Ruger would just looove that.”
“What?” I demanded. “I thought we were talking about dancing. No sucking cocks. Deal breaker!”
“We are talking about dancing,” Kimber said, rolling her eyes. “Nobody makes you work the VIP rooms. Totally your choice. Or you could waitress. They don’t make as much money, but they still do pretty well. Especially if you’re nice to the dancers. They’ll tip out if you treat them right.”
“You do not want to work there,” Marie insisted. “Seriously, most of those girls are whores. Not talking about you, Kimber, but the rest of them? You can’t trust that place for shit.”
“No, I was a whore,” Kimber announced blithely. “If by ‘whore’ you mean I got guys off for money. Mostly hand jobs, but if he’d pay enough I’d go down on him. Now I own a gorgeous house, I have a degree, and I even started a college fund for my kid. I’d do it again in a heartbeat.”
We all looked at her.
“Oh, seriously?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “You girls live in a f**king motorcycle gang. You really think you should judge me?”
“Club,” Em said. “It’s a motorcycle club. Being part of a club isn’t a crime, you know.”
“Whatever,” Kimber replied, waving her hand. “I own my body. It’s totally mine, and what I do with it is my business. I danced for guys, I touched them sometimes, and they gave me lots of money. How many women get groped every day by strangers? At least I got paid up front for it. I’d do it again, and I think Sophie should, too, if she really wants to provide for Noah.”
“No way,” I said, shaking my head.
“Working at The Line isn’t a bad idea,” Maggs said, surprising me. “I tended bar there and did pretty well. That’s how I met Bolt.”
“And did anyone bother you?” I asked. She shook her head.
“It’s a controlled environment,” she said. “Nobody gets in without security knowing. They keep an eye on everything. Even in the VIP rooms, security’s always right outside the door. I was probably safer there than I am at home.”
“Did you … I can’t think of a better way to ask this, so I guess I’ll just spit it out. Did you have to walk around naked?”
“No,” she said, smirking. “Servers at The Line are like furniture from IKEA. Okay to look at, but not what you want to draw attention to. I wore a black bustier, a short black skirt, and dark tights. Blended right in.”