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“You only had to ride fifteen minutes,” Utah defends, wiping more tears from his eyes.
“Damn asshole is what you are,” I mumble, while the rest of them all laugh incessantly.
We continue to play, and as more hang-arounds and supporters join the game, the drunker everyone gets and the tales more hysterical.
“I can’t believe you all have lived this long.” Isabella shakes her head.
“Me, either,” Elaina chimes in, and I give her ass a squeeze.
She slides from my lap, and my brows furrow. I tug on her hand. “Where are you going?”
“I just need to pee,” she whispers and moves down the hall.
***
Elaina—
When I emerge from the stall, that dancer from the Cherry Bomb—the one named Desiree—is leaning in the mirror, applying a red lipstick that screams fuck me.
Her eyes slide to mine, and I move to the sink.
“Well, hello there,” she purrs as if she’d accidentally run in to me.
“Humph,” I grunt in return.
“You know… I didn’t get a chance to play the game. Want to know my two truths and a lie?” She gives me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes.
“Can’t say I do.” I shut the water off and grab a paper towel.
“I fucked Baja right here on this counter.” Her voice sneers behind me.
My eyes flick to it, but I keep my back turned to her.
“He begged to taste my pussy in his bedroom here in the clubhouse. And I rode him until he bellowed my name in his home, where you’re just playing house. Oh, wait… I messed that up. All three of those are truths.”
My jaw tightens, and I turn to see her glaring at me.
“So, you can pretend to be something more than his flavor-of-the-month, but I know better. He’ll come back to me, and it’ll be my name he’s moaning, and don’t you forget it, bitch.” Then she shoves my chest.
Something in me snaps. I’ve taken shit and played nice my whole life, but if this whore wants to tangle with me, she’ll find out just how much fight I’ve tamped down all these years. My voice turns deadly with cold steeliness. “Don’t fucking touch me again.”
She blinks. “Or what?” She reaches up to shove me again, but I snatch her wrist, twisting it until she yelps in pain.
“Or I’ll fuck you up,” I drawl, releasing her.
She massages her wrist and shoots daggers my way. “You fucking bitch.”
In the next moment, she flings herself at me, clawing at my skin. I grab the back of her head by her hair and slam her face into the counter. The resounding crunch signals the broken nose a moment before gushing blood streams down her face.
“You broke my nose!” she wails in a nasal voice, inspecting herself in the mirror, her vanity taking over.
I stalk past her and out the door before she can turn her attention to me. My chest and neck have a few good scratch marks, but they’ll fade in a few days. I can’t say the same for the damage I’ve caused. I smile to myself as I strut down the hallway. Maybe I’ve got it in me to make a good biker bitch after all.
The ruckus from the game carries to me, and I reemerge into the main room of the clubhouse. Skirting around the crowd, I make my way to the door. Fuck this. I can’t stand to see Baja right now; the words of that hateful skank still skitter through my head. I should go back to him. My leaving is exactly what she wants, but her words hit their mark. I don’t even know how long ago they last fucked or what feelings Baja may have for this woman. An Uber to the garage apartment sounds more appealing than staying here.
I almost make it through the crowd and to the door before I hear her voice screech across the room, drawing the eyes of everyone. “Where’d that stupid bitch go? I’m going to fucking kill her.”
“What the hell happened?” I hear Rock’s voice boom over the now silent room.
