Page 1 of Brash for It
One
Pretty Boy
The bassfrom the stereo playing rattles through the walls of the clubhouse, the same damn playlist that’s been on rotation for years.Does it matter?No, nobody’s here for the music.The place isn’t something to brag about, just an open area with black and white checkered pattern floor, a bar, some pool tables, dart boards, a makeshift stage area that doesn’t get used because of a fight that broke out before my generation.The Hellions’ insignia flag hangs on the wall behind the bar, bold and proud, same as the ink on my back.
This is home.
I’m leaning against the bar with a half-empty bottle of Jack, watching the peace all around me.Brothers loud as hell, women laughing too shrill, and the clack of pool balls echoing from the corner, everything and everyone in motion.I like the noise.Keeps the thoughts out.Keeps me from thinking about shit I got no business dragging back up.
“Damn, you look like you’re ready to put someone in the ground,” Crunch mutters as he passes, slapping my shoulder.
“Maybe I am,” I grunt, tipping the bottle back.Burn feels good going down.Maybe I’ll numb the pain tonight for a change.
He just chuckles, heads off to Jennissey because my older brother can’t handle being apart from his woman.
Not me.I’m not tied down and not about to be.I don’t chase women.Don’t need to.Women come easy when you’ve got a Hellions patch and the kind of reputation that makes them all kinds of curious.
Sure enough, one of them is watching me now.Little brunette, painted lips wrapped around the neck of a longneck.Eyes like she’s already got me undressed.I hold her gaze until she blushes, then crook two fingers.
She comes.They always do.
“What’s your name?”she asks, sliding up close, pressing tits against my arm like I invited her.
“Does it matter?”I let my gaze roam over her body slow, letting her see I’m not hiding what I want.“You here to talk, or you here to fuck?”
She gasps like she’s scandalized, but she doesn’t walk away.Instead she fights the smile trying to break free on her plump lips.
“Not much for foreplay, huh?”she teases.
I smirk, but it ain’t friendly.“Foreplay’s for boyfriends.You lookin’ for one of those, find another man.You lookin’ to get fucked, follow me.”
Her lips part, but she nods, quick, like she’s afraid I’ll change my mind.
That’s better.
I grab the bottle off the bar, take a last swig, then set it down hard.My boots thud against the worn floorboards as I cut through the crowd.I don’t check to see if she’s following, I know she is.The heat of her steps keeps pace with mine until we hit the back hall and exit the compound hangout.
I make my way to one of the duplexes that I tend to use.Roundman set up these things for brothers without family responsibilities to not need to buy a house.Also for when we drink so we don’t ride and when brothers are in from out of town like the annual barbecue.There are multiple ones.They are these duplexes but more like a quad with a shared living room, but closed off bedrooms with individual bathrooms for each.Room smells like cleaner because Tripp makes sure to get them cleaned professionally before any party.That doesn’t mean it’s fancy.No, it’s a basic crash pad.It’s a bed, four walls, and privacy enough.That’s all I need, and for fucking I can make due with less.
I shut the door behind her, flick the lock, and turn slow.She’s fidgeting, twisting her fingers together, all nerves now that it’s just us.
“You change your mind, sweetheart?”I ask, voice low, rough.
She shakes her head too fast.“No.I just,” she hesitates then continues, “you’re intense.”
“Good.”I strip off my cut, laying it across the chair in the corner, then step into her space.My hands cup her hips, dragging her flush against me so she feels exactly what she’s here for.“You want soft, you’re in the wrong damn room.Walk away if you aren’t gonna handle the ride.”
Her breath hitches.Her pupils blow wide.She whispers, “I don’t want soft.”
That’s all I need.My mouth claims hers, not a kiss so much as a possession.She moans into it, arms flying up around my shoulders like she’s trying to hold on.I don’t let her lead, don’t let her set the pace.My tongue pushes past her lips, teeth catching her bottom lip until she whimpers.I like that sound, it encourages the primal part inside me.
I break from her and push her back against the wall.The thud of her shoulders against drywall makes her gasp, but her nails dig into my arms like she wants more.Her body is talking and it’s all good things.
My hand slides down, cupping her ass, hauling her up so her legs wrap around my waist.Her skirt rides high, panties dragging against the bulge in my jeans.
Heat.
Friction.
