Page 34 of Gluttony

It isn’t closure you want, idiot, it’s Redtube!

Her mouth dried up because the sweat pouring into her armpits and the small of her back was dehydrating her. God, this was going to be embarrassing.

But it had to be done.

Staring at the front wall of the Unchained MC clubhouse, Val wiped the sweat from her forehead and cringed—reconsidering leaving her hair down just because she had a new aversion to hair ties. God, what the hell was she doing here? She was obviously out of her mind, bearding the lion in his den…well, in this case, confronting the biker thirst trap in his house of hedonism.

You will not giggle at that…this is not the time!

Hell, she was a mess, and had been since she’d realized the asshole had hacked her grocery delivery system to get her address. Actually, she’d been a mess since she’d realized the asshole was still banging other women, even after his promise to “wait.” Right now, she was just plain insane.

Insanity: a noun, the condition of being insane; having a deranged mind.

Yup. That defined her to a fucking T, because a sane person wouldn’t just roll up to an MC clubhouse, determined to confront a known biker, retired US Marine, and tattooed badass, armed with nothing but her rage, her frustration, and a small can of pepper spray in her bra.

Pepper spray? A lady could never be too careful…though, she should have brought her neighbor’s Belgian Malinois, Dieter, instead—he was a former police dog.

When Val had first gotten to the compound, she saw the fence, the gate, and the small guard shack, and had to fight the urge to turn her rebuilt all black ’81 VW Beetle around and motor out of there. Unfortunately, the guy in the shack, the patch on his kutte reading “Prospect - Tony,” saw her and waved her over. It was too late then, so she’d told him her name, and that she was there to see Redtube, and the guy, with speculation and wariness in his gaze, called someone, whose name wasalsoTony, and told him to tell Red he had a visitor. Why the dude didn’t just call Red, she had no idea.

Maybe he’s busy with another “hair tie.”

She mentally slapped herself, and forced a smile sothisTony didn’t think she was a crazy person.

There must have been something in her expression that told him she wasn’t there to steal the silver, because he let her through the gate, and told her to park in the front.

Now parked, she was second and third guessing her decision to not just drive away.

But you came for a reason—the man broke your heart, then had the audacity to hack your delivery service to find your address, then sit across the street watching you like a fucking creeper.

Yeah, she’d caught him. When she’d gone to the door to get her groceries from the delivery lady, Rosie, she noticed the conspicuous truck right away. It was the only vehicle on the street she hadn’t recognized, and when she’d done a quick PA DMV search, the title to the truck came back to one of Red’s MC brothers, Horde. Knowing Redtube was there, and curious as hell aboutwhyhe was there, she’d waited for Red to come to her, tense as hell, expecting a knock on the door. But he hadn’t knocked. After several hours of that bullshit, she’d just gone to sleep.

She’d woken up that morning pissed as fuck, and ready to tear out his throat…after she had it out with him. Her subconscious voice had been right; she’d never begin to heal until she spoke with him, face-to-face, about what happened, no matter how terrified she was about himseeingher. She needed to hear his explanation from his mouth, in his words, and then she’d cut him out of her life for good.

Right, like that’ll happen.

Well, that voice wasn’t always right.

Gritting her teeth, Val dredged up every last ounce of her feminine rage, and dragged herself from the car. She patted her boobs to make sure her pepper spray was secure, then she made her way to the door. Her hand stalled on the press plate, the door being original to the building, which had once been an old construction supplies warehouse store on six acres.

For a second, on top of the other shit she was anxious about, she wondered if she was wearing the right thing; she’d worn her usual self-employment uniform of t-shirt, jeans, and decades old Chucks. But Red was used to women dressed to the nines, wearing zeros, with four-inch heels—he’d take one look at her and thank his lucky stars he’d dodged a bullet namedValentina.

Grimacing at her own thoughts, she reminded herself he’d already seen her at her worst—which was how she always looked, so it wasn’t like her appearance would be a surprise.

Smacking her hand against the door, she pushed inside, and came to an abrupt halt just over the threshold, when her gaze collided with the man she’d fallen head over heels for. The man she’d once only seen on the screen, bare chested, thrusting into his own hand to appease his fans. The man she’d finally saw in person for the first time, in a crowd, as he proudly took home a woman who was not her.

In all his iterations—social media pic, Reel, Insta story, chat room video, and in passing at Cool Hands, none of ithad prepared her for him; his size—massive, his presence—overwhelming and intense, his scent—leather, cedar, and male. He smelled like a biker thirst trap should smell: intoxicating.

Shaking her head, she tried, really, but she couldn’t peel her eyes away from him.

And his eyes, gray-hazel, intense, sharp and hungry on her, nearly stole her senses. He was looking at her like he’d never seen anything like her before. Like he thought she was beautiful.

This…this isn’t real…he must be day drinking.

There was no way he was looking at her like he was attracted to her. Not toher. Never her in her t-shirt and jeans, with her flabby arms, thick thighs, fat ass, floppy tits, and roly-poly belly. Not him, sex god of the interwebs who could make women come with his voice alone.

But…those eyes…they couldn’t lie. Heat…hunger…scorching lust….

And he was looking ather.

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