Zane
I was surprised that it took so long to convince Sasha to come with me. She needed no winning over and yet all of it. It was like she’d made up her mind but wanted the friction anyway. Strangely enough, I enjoyed it.
I waited outside her store, sucking on my smoke like it was a lifeline. Our little battle of wills had put me more on edge than she should know right now. I didn’t want to scare her off with how much my battle-hardened soul urged me to claim her as my winnings and take her straight to my bed.
Maybe I was still on edge about Asa too. I had texted one of my guys as soon as I left the store to come pick up the flowers and send them to Graham’s family for me. I was in no mood to deal with seeing Asa again, not since she’d acted like her goddamn boyfriend hadn’t just died. Poor Graham. If only he knew what the woman he loved would get up to after his death.
Kevin showed up a few minutes later. With as many guys as my club had, there was always someone close by. He clomped down the alley in the way that only Kevin could. He seemed determined to make as much noise as possible everywhere he went. I didn’t get it. Any kind of tactician would tell you that making less sound was preferable to making more. But Kevin walked like that to fights, to jobs, and even to the goddamn grocery store. He was on the leaner side, and shorter than most of the other guys, so maybe he thought if he had a big walk people would think he was a bigger man.
But he was trustworthy and loyal and a good employee to boot. And whatever he was doing seemed to work for him.
“Hey, boss.” I still hated being called that but never corrected the guys when they called me it because that would make me seem weak. “Heard you got a job for me.”
I nodded, stepping out of the shadows and turning to him. I thrust the bundle of black roses toward him. “I need you to take these to Graham’s family,” I explained. “They’re from the club.”
He nodded and took the roses without question. “Anything else?” Though I disliked leading the club most of the time, I had to admit that I liked how easy it was to get people to do things for me. There weren’t any favors being exchanged here, or rain checks. This was pure, unadulterated respect. If I wanted something, it was given to me. All because I was trusted to have the club’s best interests at heart, and did everything to protect our way of life. Oh, and I paid them handsomely.
“That’s it for now.” I dismissed him with a tight smile and a nod, and he beat a path out the way he came. I listened to his footfalls on the pavement until they blended into the noises of the night, smiling to myself the whole time. I wondered if Kevin had ever considered tap.
The jingling of a bell directed my attention to the door of Fancy Florals, and Sasha stepped out into the alley. She closed the door behind her and locked it, turning to me afterward with an open and cheerful face.
“Where are we going?”
I gestured up the alley that Kevin had come from, which also happened to be the direction my bike was in. She followed along, kicking at the stones on the pavement. “Who was that you just met up with?” she asked.
“A guy from my club. I was just getting him to bring the flowers to the deceased’s family.”
She nodded approvingly. “You didn’t know him well. You didn’t have to get black roses.”
I tilted my head to get a better look at her. “I didn’t, you’re right. I’m sure they would have been just as happy with regular roses, or some other kind of sympathy bouquet.” I shrugged noncommittally. “But I lead these guys. They have to know that I’m with them in life and in death. Even the ones I don’t know.”
“You’re a leader?” We exited the alley, and the light of the streetlamps splashed over her features. The soft lines of her face were more beautiful in the shadows of the lamplight.
“I run a motorcycle club,” I said. “Have done since my dad went away recently.”
“Ah.” She smiled. “You hate it.”
For someone who said she couldn’t get a good read on me, she sure seemed to get a lot of things right. I wondered if she’d eventually move her journey from flower arranging and Neanderthals to government interrogations or something.
“I hate it,” I confirmed. “But I’m good at it, and the guys need me.”
She laughed. “What happens if you leave? It’s not like they'll all fall apart.”
I considered that for a moment. Would they all fall apart? The complex machinations of the business would have to be passed on to someone, but even if I was able to do that who would assume leadership?
That was a consideration for later. Now I was taking a beautiful woman out for a good time. Just in time for this mental repacking, my bike came into view, bronze beneath one of the city’s less bright streetlights.
“I’ve never been on a motorcycle before,” Sasha admitted.
I looked down at her and smiled. Her gaze on my bike was, I’m sure, meant to look like she knew what she was getting into, but I could sense the wavering hesitancy that sifted through.
“I’m a good driver,” I assured her. “All you have to do is hang on.”
She let out a bark of laughter. “I’m sure that was meant to be comforting, but if you said that line about a hang glider, it would be utterly terrifying.” I quirked my eyebrow. Her face tinged pink. “Alright, alright. I’ll hang on and trust you.”
She slipped a gray University of Louisiana hoodie over her t-shirt as we left, and it hung almost to her ass. It looked far from frumpy, though. Something about the way the sweater hung off of her, only inflated by the curve of her chest, made her look cute and small. She was small anyway. I was much taller than her, and probably twice as wide.
I passed my helmet to her and swung my leg over the seat, patting the space behind me to urge her on. She slipped the helmet on and then mounted. I had to keep telling her to get closer to me until she was right against my back. Her arms around my waist made my balls ache with need. She was so soft and gentle in her movements and in her person. I wondered if she was like that in bed too.
I drove us to Armand’s Billiards. It wasn’t that I wanted to avoid guys from my club—if I did I’d take her to one of the touristy bars—but I wanted a lesser chance of running into them. This girl had something going on that the girls I usually went for didn’t, and I was curious to see how it would play out in a more neutral environment.
She took in the wooden-walled interior and relaxed in the pleasant environment with a small smile that I don’t think was meant for me. The table in the back where I regularly sat was empty, and I directed her over to it as Hannah, one of the waitresses, made a beeline for us.
She greeted me before I even sat down. “Zane! It’s been awhile.” Before I could even ask, she added, “I’ve been up north for the past few weeks visiting my folks. I bet you missed me!”
Hannah was a nice enough girl but seemed to have never figured out the act of subtlety. She was one of the few women in my life who had thrown herself at me and not been welcomed with open arms. Normally eagerness to fuck was something that I drank up like sweet iced tea on a hot day, but there was a tipping point that made me cautious. A girl like Hannah would never be more than a one-night thing for me, but I could tell she wanted something for a much longer period.
“I’m glad you’re back,” I said, not wanting to actually tell her I missed her when I didn’t. “Is Jada still back there?”
Hannah nodded. “She’s here ‘til close.” She looked a little bit put off that I changed the topic.
“Ask her for a couple of po’boys, would ya?” I looked over at Sasha. “Do you like po’boys?”
She nodded enthusiastically. “I’m starving.”
I turned back to Hannah. “And some fries too. And two beers.”
Without another word, Hannah bounded off to the bar. I turned back to Sasha, who was giving me a blank look.
“Maybe I don’t like beer,” she said.
I smiled. “But I already know that you do.”
She cocked an eyebrow at me and leaned a little closer. “How could you possibly know that?”
I shrugged. “It’s a talent. You read people, I know whether they like beer or not.”
Her face split with laughter, and she pulled off her sweater and hung it over the back of the chair. The t-shirt underneath was tight across her tits and a little bit disheveled from the journey. Damn, it looked good.
A couple regulars waved at me, and I nodded at them. When I looked back at Sasha, she was watching me with interest. “You seem like you’re well liked around here,” she noted. “I can’t decide whether you’re a drunk or a pool shark.”
I laughed. “Pool shark.”
“Would’ve been better if you were a drunk.” She delivered the line with such deadpan sincerity that I nearly broke down into a fit of laughter but managed to suppress it. She was a new breed of woman for me. I was used to girls like Hannah who didn’t have much up top.
Hannah came back with our beers and clunked them down onto the wooden table. She had gone all sour in the face. I could only imagine Jada had something to do with it. She wasn’t much for gossip or stupidity, and Hannah had both in spades. I could almost picture Jada chewing the young girl out for whatever nasty things she went back and said about Sasha.
I smiled at Hannah anyway as she left. Sasha was looking at me incredulously over her beer when I put my attention back to her.
“That girl has it bad for you. I assume you know that.” She sipped daintily.
“I know.” I laughed. “The whole bar knows. But that’s a path I’m going to stay away from.”
Sasha opened her mouth to speak, but a booming voice from the direction of the kitchen door interrupted her. “Zane goddamn Pendleton! How the fuck are you?” Jada swaggered out from the kitchen, her dark springy curls tucked up into her chef’s cap. Her apron was covered in God knows what but I got up and hugged her anyway, giving her a good smack on the back.
“How’s it going, Jada?” I smiled and turned to Sasha with an extended arm. “This is my friend, Sasha.”
Jada smiled and planted her hands on her bodacious hips, looking down at Sasha. “Honey, I hope you didn’t come here to play pool with him. He’ll have you beat before you even take your first shot.”
Sasha laughed. “One of these days I’ll score the drunk instead of the pool shark.”
Jada gave an approving look and turned back to me. “Haven’t seen you around recently. You don’t like us anymore?”
I shook my head. “Busy with club business. I’m here now, though.”
Jada patted me on the arm as she turned to leave. “I gotta get back to my kitchen, but can you tell Kevin he owes me twenty bucks?”
“Sure thing.”
And just like that, Jada was gone again. I resumed my seat and looked at Sasha, who had a faint smile on her lips. “I like her,” she said.
I nodded and took a gulp of beer. “I do too. And she cooks the best food in the state.”
“So how good at pool are you then?”
I smiled down at my beer. How many hours had I spent here, hustling a few dollars into my pocket in the hopes that I’d soon have enough to leave New Orleans? When my dad was out, it seemed like the only way to get money on the sly. Now I had access to all the club’s funds and my dad’s business. I could easily get out of here on their dime. Not that I ever would, but the temptation called to me too often for my comfort.
If only I could figure out where the hell I would even go.
“I’m the regional amateur champion,” I said. “So pretty damn good.”
She took another drink of her beer and looked down at me through her long, spidery lashes. “Only regional? Pfft.”
“Tell me about what you’re good at,” I challenged. “Psychology and anthropology and all that jazz.”
She began to talk, and I lost track of time. As she told me all about what she’d specialized in for her undergrad, and what she was hoping to specialize in for her masters, I was hypnotized. It wasn’t that I particularly cared about the topics that she touched on or delved into, but the way she spoke about them was absolutely enthralling. She had passion, so much of it that I wasn’t sure if I’d ever seen anyone care so deeply about anything.
That probably said more about me and the life I’d been living than her, but it stood. And I wanted it. I wanted her. I wanted the passion that she had for myself. If I felt that way about running the club, my life would be so much easier.
It didn’t escape my notice, either, how flushed with excitement she was while she talked. I wondered how she would look in the throes of another kind of passion—a darker kind of passion. Would she quiver with delight while I plunged into her? Would her eyes fill with the same bright expression while I made her cum over and over again?
God, I had to find out.