Page 48 of Property of Shotgun

“Give me your neck,” I grind out. “Fast.”

She sits on top of my thighs, pulling her hair up and away from her face. All my marks from last night are still there, and slightly darker than they were this morning.

Groaning at the sight of them, I give my cock another pull. My cum sprays across her slender neck in thick ropes. Completely depleted and fucking exhausted, I drop my head back on my pillow. Jade hovers over me, and my eyes catch on the pattern my cum creates on her neck.

“That’s a pretty pearl necklace.”

She grins at me. “Better than diamonds.”

FOURTEEN

JADE

Bracingmy hands on the steering wheel, I glance up at the clubhouse and a sense of nostalgia washes over me. In the years since Irish passed, I’ve done everything possible to avoid this place. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. But the truth is I had a lot of good times here, times that I easily forgot the moment I learned of Irish’s death.

It’s hard to imagine having all of that again. Almost as much as it is terrifying. I don’t think these men realize that they once collectively held my heart’s happiness in their hands, and I know they’re unaware that they hold it once again. It’s cruel that they have so much power over my life.

Cruel and injust.

But that’s what I signed up for.

Not once, but now twice.

I turn my head, and peer back at Killian who is occupied with his iPad. I always feel guilty when I hand him that thing, but he loves it. Surely an hour a day won’t screw him up too much.

“Come on, bud, let’s go say hi to Uncle Biggie.”

He tears his eyes away from the screen and I watch as his face lights up with pure joy. “He give me a dollar?”

I laugh. Every time Biggie comes around, he always gives each of the boys a twenty-dollar bill. Killian is too small to know the difference between a dollar and a twenty, so he doesn’t realize his piggy bank is stuffed with a couple hundred dollars. He’s just excited to receive something like his brothers.

“I’m sure he will.”

I get out of the car and help him out too. Fuckface appears out of nowhere and greets us as I move to my trunk to retrieve the box I packed up for the club.

“Here, let me get that,” he offers, hauling the box into his arms. “Where does this go?”

“I was hoping to give it to Biggie. Is he here?”

“Yeah, he and Taxi are inside planning routes for the trip to California. They’re currently fighting over what gas station we’re going to stop at when we hit Utah.”

My steps halt for a moment. I’m very well aware of the annual trip across country. I’ve planned all mine and Irish’s family vacations around it, but I haven’t had any reason to think about it.

But now that it’s been brought up all I can think about are the times Irish came back to the hotel, and told me stories about the rally, and all the parties. They weren’t particularly family friendly, and I specifically recall a rather disturbing tale that involves Shotgun being with two women.

Those parties are like one big orgy. I don’t care what anyone says.

“When is that coming up?” I ask Fuckface.

“Couple of weeks.”

“Is Shotgun on the rotation this year?”

It’s Fuckface’s turn to go still, and when he slowly turns to face me, regret flashes in his eyes. It’s all the confirmation I need, but he doesn’t know that, and he feels it’s necessary to confirm it for me.

“Fuck, you didn’t know?”

I force a smile. “It’s fine. I’m sure it just slipped his mine.” I’m not sure how he could forget to tell me something like that, but it’s fine. Everything is fine.

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