Tattered on My Sleeve

  “Are you close, baby?” I whisper against her ear.

  She mutters a few words that sound like “It’s okay.”

  Uh, hell no. I push up shoving my hand between us, brushing against her clit. She lets out a startled gasp and lifts her hips, seeking more. I keep sliding my fingers over her nub until she trembles and her pussy convulses, squeezing me so fucking tight it steals my breath.

  “Good girl.” She’s so out of it, she doesn’t even respond. I push her knees up and hammer into her. Seconds later, the pressure increases, squeezing my balls into a mind-blowing release.

  Fucking hell.

  I drop down a bit, nuzzle her throat, lick the sweat from her skin and finally kiss her.

  This is perfect.

  We’re quiet as our breathing returns to normal. I hate to move away from her, but I sit up and get rid of my condom. She’s limp as a noodle when I pull her up on top of me. My lips press against her forehead, and my hand strokes over her hair.

  “Babe. You know that’s not why I asked you up here, right?” I want her to understand that while the sex blows my fucking mind, I want all of her.

  Trin settles next to me, pulling the sheet up to practically her chin. Her nose scrunches up as she turns to face me. “Why then?”

  Is she kidding? “I like spending time with you. We’re more than that, don’t you think?”

  “More than sex? Sure, I guess.”

  Well that’s not encouraging. “We’re friends again, right?”

  I hate the way she hesitates. “Yeah.”

  “So maybe we explore that for a while.”

  “What are you trying to say, Wrath? You want me to be your girlfriend?” Disbelief drips from every word.

  Girlfriend. No.

  Old Lady. Wife. Soul-stealer. Yes, yes, and yes. “Would that be so horrible?”

  She shoots up so fast, my head spins. The fuck? She inches her way down the bed and jumps down to the floor before I can wrap a hand around her ankle to stop her.

  “You’ve gotta be kidding. Club whores don’t become ol’ ladies.”

  I swear to fuck if she calls herself that one more time… “Says who? And stop calling yourself a whore.”

  I gotta say, I’m pretty insulted at the way she’s jumping into her jeans with both fucking feet. She can’t get away from me fast enough and it’s starting to piss me off.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To my room.” She holds out a shaky hand to me in a stop gesture. “Don’t. Just don’t. We’ll talk later.”

  We’ll fucking talk all right.

  Wrath’s clearly lost his fucking mind. I try not to slam the door on my way out of his room. Thank fuck no one’s in the hallway to catch me leaving.

  My heart skips as I pass Teller’s door and Swan steps out. He hasn’t asked me into his room in a long time. We always use one of the unoccupied guest rooms, and I don’t know what to make of it. I must startle her too, because she jumps when she sees me.

  “Morning,” she whispers.

  “Hey.”

  She follows me downstairs. “Were you with Wrath?” she asks.

  I toss her a look over my shoulder. She’s usually not very talkative about who we bag. I just nod.

  Her mouth curves into a smile. Swan’s a pretty girl. Tall, lean, and graceful. Awfully delicate to be tossed around by a bunch of bikers, when you think about it, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She’s also fond of using the champagne room here to practice her ballet moves, which I find amusing.

  “What’s so funny?” I ask.

  She startles and holds out her hand. “Nothing. Just the trio of terror was bitching about how he hasn’t been with any of them in a long time now.”

  That stops me. “What?”

  “Ginger, Cherry—”

  “Yeah, I know who you’re talking about.” The memory of Cherry leaving Wrath’s room a few weeks ago is still enough to spike my anger. And Ginger, I’ve wanted to choke that bitch out for years.

  I refuse to examine why I’m suddenly feeling all violent.

  “Cherry’s been bitching up a storm since he tossed her out of his room before she got to suck him off,” Swan adds.

  What the hell?

  She barely takes a breath. She definitely doesn’t notice my jaw hanging. “They’re worried he found some citizen girlfriend, like prez did.”

  I snort at the very idea of Wrath taking up with a woman like Hope. Nothing against her, she’s perfect for Rock. Wrath, not so much. “Unlikely.”

  “Well, duh. Any girl in this house with half a brain knows he’s been in love with you for years,” she says with a giggle.

  What. The. Fuck.

  Her eyes widen at the expression on my face. “Oh.” She quickens her pace, probably to get away from me.

  I follow her into the downstairs bathroom, a thousand questions burning on the tip of my tongue. She turns the corner and lets out a shriek.

  “Those bitches!”

  Shaking myself out of thoughts about Wrath, I step up behind her to see what she’s so upset about. The bag of stuff she keeps tucked under the bathroom vanity has been emptied, all its contents dumped into one of the toilets.

  Jesus Christ. I’ve been meaning to talk to Rock about getting lockers in here for a while now. Even though I’m not the one who stuffed her leotards and tights in the makeshift porcelain washer, I feel guilty.

  Wrinkling my nose, I take a closer look. “Tell me it’s just water?”

  “Yeah, I guess. They’re still a bag of filthy twats, though.”

  I snicker at her description. “Oh yeah. No doubt. Hang on, I’ll go grab a plastic bag. You can wash them downstairs.”

  I’m livid as I walk down to my room. Those three are getting bolder. I suspect Roxy’s one of the girls who tossed some bullshit at Hope the other night too. Swan’s sweet, soft-spoken, and never has an attitude. Even though we’ve never talked about our pasts, I suspect she enjoys hiding out with a bunch of bikers because she’s running from something similar to what I left behind. Fucking around with her stuff that way really pisses me off.

  Once we take care of her clothes, she runs back upstairs to ask Teller for a ride home. Can’t blame the poor girl. I pocket a small box I’ve been saving for a special occasion and head to the kitchen.

  I’m almost giddy when I spot the toxic trio—Roxy, Cherry, and Ginger—at the table hanging all over Ravage and Stash. As soon as Rav spots me, he holds out his arms. “Where you been, baby girl?”

  Ignoring the glares from the three bitches, I give him a quick hug. “Around.”

  “I’ll say,” Ginger mutters under her breath. That’s rich coming from her. I ignore it because I have something so much better than a witty comeback in mind.

  Smiling brightly, I ask if everyone wants coffee. Of course none of the three bitches offer to help me in the kitchen, although Roxy takes great care reminding me that she only drinks decaf.

  I’m very aware of this fact.

  The other two nod along. They pretty much do whatever Roxy says or does.

  Breezing into the kitchen, I find Hoot already has a pot of coffee going. “Morning, Trin.”

  “Morning. Can you hand me the orange carafe?”

  He frowns but plucks it off the shelf and hands it to me. “Can you go check if Sparky needs anything?” I ask, to get him out of my way.

  His eyebrows draw down again, but he leaves the kitchen.

  Perfect.

  I have no intention of making a separate pot of coffee for those three cunts. Well, not a pot of decaf coffee anyway. Dumping the entire box of laxatives in the coffee pot, I muse that caffeine will be the least of their concerns in two to four hours.

  After Trinity stormed out of my room, I tried hard to go back to sleep. I considered going after her, but I actually want things to work this time. Chasing her down when we’re both pissed off isn’t going to accomplish much.

  I’ve got another two weeks until the big fight. Two more weeks o
f close quarters with Trinity. My dick gets hard just thinking about her in her tight little workout clothes, helping me out at the gym.

  My door slams open, banging off the wall, and I bolt upright.

  Trinity storms in, kicking the door shut behind her.

  “What the fuck, Trin?”

  She plants her hands on her hips and stares me down. “I know you haven’t been fucking any of the other club girls.”

  My jaw drops. “What?”

  “I know I’m the only girl you’ve been with in a while, so what’s going on?”

  Where is this coming from? What’d she do, go question every chick in the house while she was gone?

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare right back at her. I’d get up, but I’m still naked from earlier. Trin seems a little unpredictable at the moment, so I prefer to keep my dick safely hidden beneath the sheet. “Why are you so concerned about who warms my cock all of a sudden? You hate me.”

  Her bottom lip thrusts out in an irresistible little pout. I hate when she makes that face. Every single time, it makes me want to give her everything, kiss her, snuggle her, whatever the fuck she has going on in her nutty little head, I want to do to make her smile.

  “I don’t hate you,” she whispers. “Why would you say that?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I suggested we try being together and you ran out of here like I tried to set you on fire.” Fuck, as soon as the words leave my mouth, I wish I could take them back.

  She shrugs off my thoughtless comment. “Well, you haven’t always been super nice to me either, you know.”

  “I fucked up. I’m trying hard here, Trin.”

  “Why are my fuckups still topics of conversation?”

  “What are you talking about?” To my knowledge, Trin never admits to fucking up. She’s a tough little bitch.

  There’s that fucking pout again. This time she glances at the floor. Something’s weighing on her. “The way you’re always telling everyone what a slut I am.”

  Aw, fuck. “What are you talking about? I’ve never called you that.”

  “No, but you’ve implied it and worse.” She lifts her gaze, piercing me right down to my soul. All my shitty behavior over the years and especially the last few months comes rushing back.

  Then she spills what’s been bothering her for the last eight years. What we’ve never acknowledged or spoken about. “You know what MCs normally expect of girls like me. But here, you could have said I was off-limits and they would have respected it. But you said nothing. I didn’t expect a property patch or anything more than what you were capable of giving me at the time. I didn’t think you wanted me. It wasn’t fair for you to be mad at me when you never said anything.”

  Each one of her brutally honest words burns like acid. I’m not sure if we’re getting somewhere or if this will end up pushing us further apart. “Trinity, you know that’s not entirely true. I asked you not to do that for the club. We both know no one pushed you into being club ass.” I say it as gently as possible, because I’m really not trying to hurt her feelings. “I told…I’m not going to lie, it fucking hurt, Trin.”

  My mind flashes back to the night all this shit got fucked up between us for real. All I can see is Teller pulling her up the stairs. Trin’s questioning eyes. And I sat there like an asshole and let it happen because I was too proud and pissed off. After my spectacular display of how little I cared, she went with Z not long after. That stung, because we’ve been friends forever. Still I said nothing. She and Teller got tight for a while. Then she, Teller and Murphy. I stopped paying attention after that. It hurt too fucking much. Because it was my own fault. I couldn’t be mad at my brothers because of the reason she said. I never opened my stupid mouth to stop it.

  These last few weeks, working with her has been fucking awesome. I love getting up and finding her waiting for me downstairs every morning. Love having her around at my gym all day. We’re finally getting back to where we were before things went to hell. No. Actually it’s better. I don’t want to lose her.

  I can’t fuck this up again.

  Tears silently track down her cheeks. In the past I would have said something nasty to cut her even deeper. Never again.

  Pulling her into my arms, I use my thumbs to wipe her tears away.

  “I’m sorry,” she sobs against my chest. “I didn’t—”

  “Shhh. It’s in the past now, okay?”

  Her head tips back. “Is it? Can it ever really be in the past? Because sometimes I can’t close my eyes without seeing you and Ginger together. Or Cherry, or—” I place my hand over her mouth to stop her.

  “I understand what you’re saying.” I pin her with a hard stare. “I do. I’m sorry I tried to push you into something you’re not ready for. But I want you to understand, you mean more to me than just sex.”

  She shakes free of my hold but perches next to me on the bed, keeping her feet on the floor. “That’s how I felt when we first met. You kept coming back and I didn’t understand why.”

  Laughter rumbles out of me. “It surprised me too. But I couldn’t stay away.”

  “Then, it hurt the way you…didn’t care enough to—.”

  “I’m sorry.” Using two fingers, I press them against her cheek and turn her to face me. “You don’t trust me yet.”

  Her hand reaches up, grasping mine and pulling it away from her face. “It’s not just you. I don’t trust myself.”

  I know exactly what she means and it doesn’t piss me off the way it would have a couple years ago. I understand her better now. Hell, I don’t trust myself either.

  I bring her hand to my face and brush my lips over her knuckles. “We’ll work on it together, okay?”

  Instead of giving me the answer I want, she blows me away with a question I’m not expecting. “Why didn’t you tell me nothing happened between you and Cherry?”

  Fuck, how long was she gone? What’d she do, play dick detective the entire time? “What?”

  “You never told—”

  I sit up straighter and put my back against the pillows. “I didn’t want to make excuses. I still fucked up. I brought her up here intend—”

  “But you didn’t? Why?”

  Because I don’t want to get it up for anyone else. “She’s not you.”

  “Yeah, but you thought I was across the hall with Z…”

  “It wasn’t worth it.”

  She stares at the wall as if trying to make sense of that.

  “That night I spent like ten minutes gushing to Z about how you and I were getting along so well…and…I ended up feeling like such an idiot.”

  It takes a second to absorb all that information. “Wait. What did you tell him?”

  She shrugs and refuses to look at me. “I don’t know. That it was like when we first met.”

  Reaching out, I brush my hand over her cheek. “Is that bad?”

  Finally she looks at me with so much hurt in her eyes. “Yeah, because too many bad things have gone down for it to ever be like that again.”

  She’s wrong. She doesn’t know it yet. But she’s wrong.

  As the fight approaches, the days we spend at the gym get longer and longer. I’m fine with it, but I sense Trinity’s getting tired. It’s not that I’m worried I’ll lose—I’m not. But ever since Rock told me he’s bringing Cinderella to the fight, I can’t stop thinking about having Trinity there as well. And if she’s going to watch, I want to make sure I’m one hundred percent.

  “You can go home, babe. I’ll ask one of the guys to come pick me up.”

  She pierces me with a hurt expression. “You want me to leave?”

  “Well, it’s late and I’m sure you’re tired.”

  “I’m okay. How much longer do you think you’ll be?”

  “Let me finish this set of drills, I’ll grab a shower and we can go, okay?”

  “Sounds good. I’m going to use one of the ellipticals if you don’t mind.”

  Do I mind? Trin gett
ing all nice and sweaty in her tight little yoga pants and fitted T-shirt? No, I don’t mind one bit.

  So much for finishing any drills. I basically stand there hugging the heavy bag drooling over Trinity. Watching the gentle sway of her tits gets me stone hard, something that’s hard to conceal in my loose gym shorts.

  “Christ, you’ve got it bad for her,” Jake says behind me.

  I’m pissed that he managed to startle me and at how obvious I am.

  “Why are you here so late?”

  “Forgot my fucking cell phone. Can’t function without it.” He glances at Trinity again. “You gonna make this happen with her, or not?”

  “Who are you, dear fuckin’ Abby now? Get lost.”

  Jake isn’t offended at all. He knows what a moody prick I am. “Why do you even know who Dear Abby is?”

  I don’t think explaining that my mother religiously read that column for years is going to make him go away fast enough. “Did you find your phone?”

  He waves it in my face. “Yeah.”

  “Good. Lock up on your way out.”

  He laughs and slaps me on the shoulder before finally leaving. I approach Trinity slowly and get on the machine next to her. She glances over and smiles, then pulls out her ear bud. “Want me to finish up?”

  “Take your time. I’m good.”

  She glances down at the timer. “I’ve got ten minutes left.”

  I nod and set my own clock, taking up a lazy pace next to her. We don’t speak for the next ten minutes and when she finishes, she hops off, flushed, sweaty and so fuckin’ pretty, I have to look away.

  “I’m going to shower and change. Meet you in your office in twenty?”

  “Sure.”

  I can’t concentrate knowing there’s only a door and a flimsy shower curtain between myself and naked Trinity.

  On autopilot, I stalk over to the women’s locker room. My hand flattens against the door and I take a second to consider what I’m doing. But then I catch Trinty’s voice. Singing. She’s singing in the shower and her voice pulls me inside.

  She jumps when I push the curtain aside and peers at me over her shoulder.