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SUNNY

Ihave no idea what’s going on in the room next to me, but honestly, from this side of the wall, it sounds like Vandal is massacring Daisy. I mean, from her screams, it seems like she’s got no problem with it. And, at this point, I’m pretty sure they’re trying to set some world record for the number of orgasms in one evening. While it’s hot as fuck to listen to, it’s doing nothing for the growing ache in my cock that I could just take care of, but I genuinely can’t be bothered.

The last year, I’ve been…bored. Everything has felt like it’s been on repeat. The rides. The work. The club. Even the jokes I’m usually the butt of. And it’s been permeating through every part of me. Something needs to come along and jolt me out of this rut I’m getting stuck in.

I’ve been on the fence about heading home all night, barely had a drink on the off chance I’d need to ride. As the slamming of a headboard against a wall gets louder and faster, I make the call to leave.

So, I grab my cut, my keys, and my wallet, before locking up my clubhouse room.

“You looking for some fun, tonight, Sunny?” Steffi asks me. She’s leaning against the wall outside of Reaper’s room, fastening her shoes; her long, thick hair falls forward. The club’s medic seems to like her, but not in the kind of way that would make her the old lady she really wants to be.

Someone should tell her that if she just pulled back on the sleeping around, someone might take her on as an old lady. She’s pretty. Smart, too. At least, I think so, but then again, I know that ain’t saying much. I basically flunked out of school in the womb given the amount of alcohol my mom drank while pregnant with me. School stuff never came easy. Neither did sitting in one place for too long.

When I was fifteen, Knox caught me hot-wiring a truck, not his, obviously, because even I’m not that stupid. He always tells everyone that he would have kicked my ass if he’d found me in one of his vehicles. But he pulled his bike over and told me to go see him at the clubhouse the next day.

The day I turned eighteen, I was patched in, and Knox gave me my road name.

He says it’s because I’m a fucking ray of sunshine.

I say it’s because he picked me up, dusted me off, and gave me a purpose. Like a father would.

And, yeah, Havoc had to tell me that’s not how you spell sonny, but I don’t give a fuck.

The way Steffi is fastening up her shoes while dressed in a short denim skirt and bra, T-shirt by her feet, suggests Reaper hoofed her out of his room as soon as he was done with her.

And listen, I don’t mind sharing club girls. It’s handy to have ‘em around. But I always had a problem in school: I hated sitting in a chair someone else had been sitting on. Hated it when I sat down and the seat was still warm from their ass.

Feel the same way about pussy.

Ask me an hour from now, I might say yes. But when that pussy is still wet from another man’s efforts, I’d rather fuck a bucket of Jell-O.

“Some other time, Steffi,” I say as I walk by.

“The dynamic duo force you out?” Ridge asks from his spot at the end of the bar once I make it over to him. The club’s road captain is probably my best friend. Not that we talk about each other like that. But we like the same kinds of things: Fishing. Football. Fucking—not each other, obviously.

I nod. “Vandal’s gonna bust the wall between our rooms if he keeps drilling Daisy the way he is. Not gonna get any sleep.”

Ridge chuckles. Thick dark hair falls over his face. “You know he was supposed to take her to dinner. They had a reservation at some fancy place. Made it as far as the clubhouse and decided the best use of the time away from Elsie was to spend it doing that.”

He points to the end of the bar, where Vandal has appeared. The man is utterly drenched in sweat and is naked apart from a pair of black workout shorts and his thick-soled boots.

Without acknowledging us, he cracks open a bottle of water and throws it down his throat like he spent the last week crawling through the Sahara as opposed to three hours of banging Daisy.

When he’s done, he finally looks up and sees us.

“Surprised your dick’s still attached after all that exertion,” I say.

Vandal just grins, then looks down at his watch. “Says I burned four hundred and eight calories. Might try and make it five.”

“Who’s babysitting?” Ridge asks. “Maren?”

Vandal shakes his head. “Havoc.”

“You trust that man with your kid?” I ask. Our sergeant at arms can be a mean fucker.

“Trust him with my life,” Vandal says. “But he’s trying to win Elsie over with some shit he bought to make a fort. Hopefully my house is still standing when they’re done.”