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“I didn’t say that.”
“I don’t fuck the club’s employees if it makes you feel better,” I say with every bit of sarcasm in me this time.
“Okay.” She stares at me, waiting for an answer to her original question.
No more fucking muffler bunnies at the clubhouse. No more blow jobs in the back room of the laundromat. No more…fuck it. None of that appeals to me right now anyway. Not when I want to teach the woman standing in front of me how to fuck like the queen she is. “Yeah, okay.”
“Yeah, okay, what?” she presses.
Oh, you’re gonna make me say it, huh? “I won’t sleep with anyone else while we’re,” I wag one finger between the two of us, “doing whatever we’re doing here.”
“Thank you.”
“Can I ask you something, though?”
“Sure.”
“Is it a health thing or a jealousy thing.” I’m such a dick for asking but I’m really curious about her answer.
Her eyes widen like a deer in the headlights, and she twists her fingers together. “Will you be mad if I say a little of both?”
“Why would that make me mad?”
“Well, you said you don’t do relationships. Admitting it might make me jealous if you’re…” She swallows hard like she can’t even say the words. “That might tread into relationship-y territory.” She slowly lifts her shoulders in an apologetic shrug.
Honesty. Margot couldn’t lie if I pointed a gun at her. I like that in people. Brave too. She knew there was a chance I’d say fuck no to the whole arrangement, but she asked anyway. “I’m not mad.”
She flicks her gaze to the kitchen behind me, like all this eye contact and honesty is too much to handle. “Do you want anything to drink?”
“No, I better get going.”
She stares at me.
I’m not staying over unless she asks.
And she doesn’t ask.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Jigsaw
As I step into the downstate clubhouse the next day, a sense of wrongness washes over me. This doesn’t feel like the club’s home anymore. Not since we were raided and had the place turned upside down.
Sure, months have gone by. We’ve put all the furnishings back together, replaced couches, patched holes in walls, but the security I used to feel here hasn’t returned.
Since the raid, I haven’t bothered keeping more than a change of clothes, a box of condoms, and a toothbrush in my room. Anything personal resides at my cozy apartment at Rooster and Shelby’s place.
Still have to check in with Z and Grinder to see what needs to be done. Z always says I can stop by his house but the uppity suburban neighborhood full of hideously oversized McMansions makes my skin crawl.
Z’s office is the second door on my left. I stop there first and tap my knuckles against the wood.
“Come in.”
“What’s up, Prez.”
“Look who it is.” He stands and rounds the desk to pull me in for a slap on the back.
“You act like I’ve been gone for a month.”
