I look over at the group. All of them, even the babies, seem to be staring at me in shock, but I only have eyes for one of them. The blonde who’s haunted my every fantasy since the day I met her. Those brown eyes as dark as rich mocha boring into my own. She’s never been good at hiding how she feels, which is why I know that the attraction I feel for her is far from one-sided, but right now, the pain that is flickering back at me shocks me even more than the woman mauling me in the middle of Heavy’s.
“Did you miss me, baby?” she whispers huskily in my ears.
Her warm, wet breath hits my skin and causes a chill of revulsion to run through my body—which she clearly takes as encouragement, unfortunately, since that damn hand that was tracing each one of my abs starts making its way past my belt.
Chelcie’s eyes widen, and before I can make sense of her expression, the woman next to me curls her hand roughly against my flaccid cock, squeezing so hard that I have to suck in a deep breath of shock and pain, again doing nothing but encouraging her to keep going. With one of her hands digging into my backside and the other doing its best to rip my dick off through my pants, she leans up and bites my earlobe between her teeth.
The shock keeps me rooted—silently—in place, but when I see a single tear roll down Chelcie’s beautiful cheek, I quickly start to detangle myself from the leech at my side.
“Oh come on, Asher. You liked it rough the last time,” she pouts in the most annoying baby talk I’ve ever heard.
“Babe, I hate to break it to you, but I don’t even remember who you are.” Figuring that honesty is the best road to travel right now, I give it to her as politely as I can without just telling her that she was a warm hole my drunken mind needed.
“Excuse me?”
“Which part of that didn’t you understand?” I ask.
“Oh shit,” I hear Axel laugh behind me.
“You idiot,” Melissa mumbles under her breath.
“Sweet Jesus, even I know if I loved the ladies like you hunks of sex, THAT is definitely not the right way to handle all of that hot mess,” Sway dramatically adds.
I turn around and glare at all of them quickly before returning my attention to the chick basically vibrating with anger.
“It’s Pammy,” she seethes.
Pammy? Jesus Christ, does every one of the chicks I sleep with have to have a name that screams, ‘Bimbo’?
“Right, Pammy. I don’t mean to be a jerk, but I really have no idea who you are.” I try to smile, but when I see the look of crazy-bitch come across her face, I know that things are about to get ugly. “Stop,” I say harshly under my breath, “whatever is about to fly out of that pretty little mouth of yours, babe. In case you missed this, there are kids in your presence. I’m sure their parents are already going to lay into me since you decided to relearn your basic male anatomy while standing right in front of them, so the last thing I need is for you to start running that mouth of yours.”
Her eyes turn glacial, and I know—I just know—that she didn’t hear a word I just said. Fuck. Me.
“You knew my name just fine A WEEK ago when you were driving that thick cock inside me.” She reaches up and attempts to slap me, but I quickly catch her around her slim wrist.
Braving a look around the table behind me wouldn’t be the best move. I can feel the energy getting electric as the group takes in what just flew out of her mouth. A few shocked gasps, deep mumbles of outrage, and one high-pitched laugh that I know belongs to Sway.
I close my eyes and drop my head when I hear Cohen speak.
“Daddy! Roosters can’t drive!”
Looking up, I narrow my eyes at Pammy before pulling her away from the table with her wrist still in my hand. She practically has to run to keep up with me in those damn shoes she has on, but I’m so pissed that I don’t even care if she trips and falls.
Chapter 7 – Chelcie
“Roosters can’t drive, little dude. She was talking about a movie that Uncle Asher took her to,” Greg utters as calmly as he can to a very curious Cohen.
The rest of the table is in a mix of anger and hilarity over the scene we just witnessed between Asher and one of his many whores. And I say whores because that’s exactly what they are. No woman I’ve ever had the displeasure of watching him hook up with has ever looked like she has an ounce of self-respect. They’re always so…fake. Huge breasts, big butts, and tiny waists. One thing he doesn’t ever discriminate against is their hair color, so hey, at least he keeps an open mind. Disgusting.
There was a time when I felt like he could be the one. A time when he wasn’t drunk and sleeping with every easy lay that spread her legs for him. It didn’t happen often, but those rare moments when I would catch him sober were some of the greatest.
“Someone needs to talk to him. This is getting out of control, Ax. I’m shocked that he even remembered what day it is to show up tonight,” Izzy says to her husband.
“Clearly he ran out of liquor,” Dee speaks from across the table.
Beck shakes his head and reaches over her shoulder to pull her closer to his body.
“How do you forget the name of someone that you sleep with?” Sway questions.
“Hell if I know. I remember all of the ladies I’ve had the pleasure of,” Greg chimes in after making sure Cohen is distracted with Nate, Axel and Izzy’s two-year-old son.
“Pig,” Melissa, his wife, smiles at him.
I allow myself a second to feel the wave of jealousy wash over my body before quickly putting it back where it belongs—locked in a box deep inside me.
“When was the last time anyone even saw him without the stench of alcohol oozing out of his skin?” Davey asks.
He, like me, is pretty new to the group. He started as the front office assistant to the guys at Corps Security when Emmy left. Out of everyone who had a hard time after Coop’s death, Emmy might have taken it the hardest. Coop took the bullet that had been meant for her, and I can’t even begin to put myself in her shoes. I hate that she left abruptly, but I understand why she did.
“He’s been drinking nothing stronger than Coke for the last three days,” Maddox says, speaking over the group and gaining every single one of our eyes. But he isn’t looking at anyone else except me.
His expressionless face is just boring into mine, his eyes clearly trying to communicate some kind of hidden message for me alone. I frown at him, not picking up on his underlying meaning.
