What Doesn't Destroy Us (The Devil's Dust #1)(9)

I also scoped out the rest of the clubhouse and met an 'Ol’ Lady' named Babs. She is married to Locks. She has bright red hair and green eyes. Her body is thick and her manner is spitfire; I love her already. She's been teaching me a lot of biker slang, like that 'Ol' Lady' means a woman belongs to a club member and is off limits. I've even met some of the club whores; that’s what Babs calls them, anyway; Juliet, a tattooed redhead; Lips, a thick figured brunette with obvious lip injections; and Candy, a busty blond with obvious boob injections.

Juliet is gorgeous. She has sleeves of inked stars and hearts and everything else you could imagine tattooed all over her arms. I’m sure when she's naked there are more. She wears them well. It actually makes me want to get a tattoo. Funny, I used to think girls with tattoos were trashy.

Lips is chunky but not fat. She has light freckles all over her face. She is beautiful and dresses very classy; she doesn't really look like a club whore at all.

Candy doesn't seem to like me; she avoids eye contact and her body language is very cold toward me. She is skinny; like super model skinny, and wears hardly any clothing. Her attitude screams bitch and reminds me a lot of my mother. I’m sure we’ll butt heads before this charade is over.

I've seen Shadow pop in and out of the club here and there. He comes in covered in grease and makes my heart do that flip-flop thing. We don't talk to each other; we try to keep our distance. But I catch him staring at me a lot. He stares at me with hungry eyes and the most breathtaking, yet arrogant smile a man can have. He makes my sex clench and dampen with every megawatt smile; he is so infuriating. A few times, when he had to walk past me, he would brush his arm against mine. The spot he briefly made contact with would feel ablaze. It's the worst foreplay ever; pure sexual torture. His pouty lips, beefy arms, chiseled abs, cute butt and amazing dimples make my lips swell with the anticipation of exploring every inch of him.

It's been a few days since I've seen Shadow, so I casually bring up to Babs that I've noticed some of the men missing. “They've gone on a bike run, Hun. Something the boys do to handle club business. They should be back soon.” She's wiping the bar clean after feeding me a delicious breakfast. “Other than that, we don’t get the privilege of knowing what their runs consist of or how long they'll be out.” I am shocked to realize that while her husband is gone doing god knows what or for how long, she just stays at the house and plays Betty Crocker for the rest of the club men. She talks a lot about club rules and the responsibilities of being an Ol' Lady. If this is one of the duties, I'm not sure I'd make a good one.

It’s midnight and I'm wide awake listening to my iPod. Music has always been an outlet for my emotions. In my roughest troubles it speaks the words of healing that I can’t find for myself. I haven’t been able to sleep this entire week; it’s all so new to me. My stomach speaks, too, with a growl, so I grab some plaid shorts to throw on. Maybe if I eat I can finally fall asleep. I tuck my iPod in the waist of my shorts and hang the headphones around my neck. I see my bra on the floor and the lacy thing reminds me I am only wearing a thin, black tank top without a bra. It’s so late I doubt anyone will be up. I’ll just grab a bite and run back here. I open the door and notice most of the lights are off in the hallway. But I can tell there are lights on in the main room that has the bar. I tip toe down the hallway and into the kitchen quietly, not noticing anyone in my quick jaunt.

I open the big, stainless steel refrigerator and see food stocked on all the shelves; clearly for the upcoming charity event. I grab a dish and open it to find barbecued pulled pork; the smell capturing my senses and making my stomach growl louder. I pull it out and set it on the counter. Plates, pork, buns, and a microwave; perfect! Katy Perry's “Dark Horse” starts blaring through my head phones, reminding me I still have my iPod. I love this song, so I put the headphones back on and start dancing around the kitchen looking for the things to complete my meal. I get sucked into the song and start singing, but try not to get too loud.

As the song finally finishes, I have everything I need on the counter. I put the pulled pork in the microwave to heat and hear a deep laugh. My heart skips a beat. Yanking the headphones off my head, I spin in the direction of the sound to find Shadow.

He’s leaning against a counter wearing gray sweat pants that hang off his hips in a very delicious way. He’s not wearing a shirt, allowing me to see his tight, lick-worthy stomach. He's holding a tub of chocolate ice cream and as his arm moves in to scoop a spoonful, I notice the tattoo on his bicep is a very detailed, black raven sitting on a skull. His hair is wet as if he just got out of the shower. A trickle of water falls carelessly from his hair onto his chest making me pant.

“Don’t mind me, just enjoying dinner and a show. Please, keep going.” He winks.

I scowl back at him. How dare he just gawk at me in a private moment and when the hell did he get back, anyway? Then he licks the spoon clean of anything chocolate; his tongue assaulting without mercy. My lips part and a small moan escapes my mouth.

“See something you like?” he asks, flaunting a playboy smile.

I roll my eyes and look back at the microwave, adjusting my plate and BBQ sauce. I try to think of something to say but come up with nothing. The microwave beeps and I grab my plate quickly, ignoring the painful burn the plate brings. I shrug, letting it bang to the counter. “I just notice you're not wearing your vest.” I say, not completely lying.