Chapter Eleven
Wheelie
Wheelie put two six-packs of Heineken and a bottle of blueberry-flavored vodka on the counter. The redheaded cashier gave him the type of smile that said she was available for more than ringing up his purchases. He grabbed several Jack Daniels shooters and pulled out his wallet.
“You look like you’re having a party,” she said, placing the bottles in a paper bag.
“How much is it?”
“I’ll let you have the shooters, so for the beer and vodka, it’s thirty-three bucks. Is it a private party?”
He counted out the bills and handed them to her. “Yeah.” With a paper bag in each arm, he walked out of the store and over to his jeep. Sofia’s gonna love the blueberry vodka. He’d remembered she’d told him that was her favorite flavored vodka on one of their many trips to Canon City. Tigger had been in prison, and it seemed like Sofia’s car always had trouble, so Wheelie had offered to take her to see Tigger.
He’d enjoyed her company during the long ride there and back. Sometimes they’d talked the whole round trip, other times they just listened to music and spoke sporadically. It seemed like those trips had pulled them close together, or at least that was the way he felt.
Resting his arms on the steering wheel, he dipped his head down until his forehead touched his wrists. What the fuck am I doing? Sofia’s a brother’s old lady. A brother he didn’t care for too much. Never had. When Wheelie had first met her at Steelers, Tigger’s arm draped around her thin shoulders, he couldn’t believe how dainty and pretty she was. With her porcelain skin, dark brown hair, and luminous green eyes, she’d looked like a china doll. She’d been wearing higher-than-hell heels that made her look taller than her five-foot-two inches, and when she laughed it’d sounded like wind chimes on a breezy spring day. He’d been blown away. And her eyes had sparkled when she’d get excited.
I’m fuckin’ playing with fire. At that moment he should be at the clubhouse eating ribs and coleslaw, then fucking a couple of club girls instead of sitting in a liquor store parking lot remembering all kinds of dangerous shit.
Lifting his head up, he saw the redhead come out and light up a cigarette. That’s who he should be spending the evening with, not a brother’s wife. Fuck! But he didn’t want to be at the clubhouse, or drinking and fucking the redhead. He wanted to be with Sofia, trying to make the sparkle in her eyes come back.
Over the years, he’d seen dullness replace the brightness her green orbs used to have, and he rarely heard her laugh. The longer she stayed with Tigger, the more weary and beaten down she became.
The redhead noticed him, waving her arm off as she bounced over. He switched on his engine and took off before she reached the vehicle.
Way before Sofia had come into the picture, Wheelie had a tense relationship with Tigger. The five-foot-ten, muscled brother loved to brag about himself to anyone who would listen. Most of the brothers ignored him, but it gripped Wheelie’s ass and he’d usually call Tigger on it, which usually ended up with them throwing punches at each other.
In Wheelie’s opinion, Tigger was a blowhard who cared more for himself than he did for the brotherhood. He’d always suspected Tigger just wanted to be part of the club because it was a chick magnet and it gave him an excuse to bash in heads. Tigger loved the way people stared at him and how intimidated they were when they saw the Insurgents patch.
Wheelie didn’t deny it fuckin’ rocked when men stepped away from him, or the way chicks cozied up to him, but he was loyal to the bone to the club. Something he didn’t think Tigger was, and he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. Axe, Throttle, Jerry, and Chas voiced the same opinion, and he suspected Hawk and Bear agreed with them even though they never said anything. The difference between him and Tigger was that he’d do anything for a brother, even butt out of Sofia and Tigger’s life.
He pulled into the driveway in front of the garage. The door clanked open and he drove in. Before he’d left, she’d called and told him to park in the garage so no one would see his car. She hadn’t wanted it to get back to Tigger that she’d had a lone brother in the house.
She stood in the doorway, dressed in a fuzzy purple pullover sweater and tight blue jeans, her hair gleaming under the fluorescent lights in the garage. A sliver of excitement lit up her eyes, and he thought she’d never looked prettier.
Easy. Tigger’s an asshole, but he’s a brother. Banger will have my ass if I step over the line.
She curled up her lips, and her smile excited him more than all the nakedness of the club girls. At that moment, all thoughts of Tigger, Banger, and loyalty vanished from his head. Pausing for a long moment, he got out of the jeep, reached over and grabbed the bags, and came up to her. A hint of nutmeg, orange, and violet circled around him, and he groaned inwardly.
“You smell wonderful. Is that a new perfume?”
“Sorta. It’s super expensive, so I only wear it for special occasions.”
He ran his thumb under her bottom lip and watched her cheeks turn all shades of red. “Glad you think our time together is special, ’cause it is.” He started to dip his head down but reconsidered. If he kissed her, he’d never be able to stop. Pointing at the bag in his hand, he smiled. “I got blueberry vodka for you.”
When she took the bag from him, their fingers brushed. She quickly walked into the kitchen. “I can’t believe you remembered how much I love it. Thanks.”
“Of course. You didn’t think I tuned you out each time we drove to the pen, did you?” He winked at her and unpacked his bag, lining up the shooters on the counter.
“You want to try some?” Opening one of the cupboards, she stood on her tiptoes and reached for the glasses.
He came over and took two out, his body brushing against hers. “Here you go. And I’m good with my Jack and beer.” He walked away quickly, not trusting himself. Tossing the decorative pillows on the couch aside, he sank into the cushion and grabbed a shooter, twisting off the cap. In one fluid movement, he downed it, welcoming the burn as it traveled down his throat.
“Good?” Sofia picked up her glass and took a long drink. “This tastes so good. I haven’t had a drink like this in a long time.”
No doubt Tigger’s the reason why. He took another shot and threw it back. Tigger wouldn’t be the topic of conversation. That night it would be all about Sofia and the two of them enjoying an evening together.
“I’m going to make another.” She jumped up from the couch and walked into the kitchen, her hips swaying.
“Just bring the fuckin’ bottle out here.”
“I’m afraid if I do, I’ll get smashed.” Her laughter wrapped around him.
“It’s good to hear you laugh. It’s been a long time.” Kicking off his boots, he settled back against the cushion.
With bottle in hand, she walked back into the room and plopped down on the couch. “I actually feel happy right now.”
“Maybe it’s the booze.”
She locked her gaze on his. “I don’t think it is.” Without breaking eye contact, she brought the glass to her lips and drank deeply, then put it down on the end table.
He sucked in his breath and his cock stirred as she ran the tip of her tongue over the contours of her lips, lips that were made for sinning. Easy.
“What about that pizza you promised?”
“Yeah… sure. What do you like on it?”
“I love sausage, extra cheese, ham, and tomatoes, but I shouldn’t have that. It’ll go right to my hips.”
Wheelie ran his gaze over her slender body and shook his head. “I don’t think you have to worry.”
“I do. I’ve gained a lot of weight.”
Pursing his lips together, he took his phone out of his pocket. “That’s bullshit. Is that what Tigger’s been telling you?”
The mention of his name made her smile fade and her eyes dull.
“Don’t believe it for a minute. You’re a beautiful, sexy woman. You need a man who’ll tell you that often, no matter what you weigh.” He tapped in the numbers to the pizza place and ordered a large with everything she wanted. “Should we get a salad?” She nodded and he ordered it with creamy ranch dressing.
Reaching over for the remote, he brushed his hand against Sofia’s and heard her gasp softly. From his peripheral vision, he saw her throwing peeks at him as he flipped through the channels on the TV. Settling on a show where there were a lot of explosions, he muted the television and turned toward her.
“What’s going on in your pretty head?” he asked.
“I was just wondering if you had a girlfriend. I mean, it’s Saturday night and you’re stuck babysitting me. If I was your girlfriend, I’d be pissed about it.”
“Oh yeah? Why?”
All of a sudden, her cheeks burned brightly and she shifted in place. “I guess I wouldn’t want you spending the evening with another woman.”
“Even if it was with a friend?”
“I’d be afraid something may go farther than that. I don’t think men and women can just be friends. I mean, there’s always a strain of sexual tension between them.”
Wheelie swept his fingers over her hand. “Are you feeling sexual tension between us?”
Moving her hand away, she locked onto his gaze and they sat still, barely daring to breathe. Heat brewed between them.
“Well, are you?” he whispered, scooting closer to her.
“Yes. What about you?”
Grasping her upper arm, he pulled her toward him. “Fuck yeah, baby.”
She tilted her head back and he brought his face close to hers. He could feel her warm breath fanning over his face.
Ding dong. Ding dong. Sofia jumped up like a bee had stung her and rushed around the room, panic plastered on her face.
“Relax. It’s the doorbell. Probably the pizza guy.” Wheelie rose to his feet and looked out the window. An older man carrying a pizza stood on the porch. “That’s who it is.” As he opened the door, he saw Sofia lean against the wall, holding a hand over her heart and breathing heavily.
After paying the guy, Wheelie brought the food over to the coffee table and then went over to her. She was still leaning against the wall. Grasping her wrists, he tugged her to him; she didn’t resist. He looped his arms around her and held her tightly.
“You’re shivering like a leaf,” he said. “It’s okay. I’m here. I won’t let anything hurt you.”
Resting her head on his chest, he felt her relax and snake her arms around him. A shock of physical awareness jolted through him at the feel of her soft body molded to him. He felt a tug in his jeans and he pulled away slightly in an attempt to cover his desire.
“You never answered my question,” she said into his shirt.
“What was it?”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“No.”
“I’m surprised a nice, good-looking guy like you doesn’t have one. Why not?”
Because the one I want is already taken. “Not looking for one, I guess.” He pulled away. “Pizza’s gonna get cold.” He turned and went back to the couch.
For the next few hours, they laughed, watched a movie, and played Resident Evil 7. It was one of the best nights Wheelie’d had in a very long time.
When he glanced at his phone, he saw it was almost two in the morning. The time had just flown; it seemed like he’d only been there for a couple of hours. Sofia came back from the kitchen with a plastic bag and put the pizza box and paper plates in it. He helped her tidy the room, and then he picked up his jacket.
“Are you leaving?” Her voice had a tinge of sadness to it.
“It’s getting late.”
“Are you going back to the clubhouse?”
“Nah. I’m just going home.” Wheelie had moved out of the clubhouse in the early part of the year. Most of the single brothers lived at the club, but after years of not having much privacy, he decided he needed his own space, so he bought a three-bedroom home overlooking the Colorado River. It was in the Pinehurst community, and each morning when he woke up to peace and quiet, he wondered why it’d taken him so long to get his own place.
“Do you mind taking the vodka with you? You can keep it for the next time we get together,” she said softly.
“Next time you can come to my place. You’d really like it.”
She nodded, her eyes fixed on him. He went to the door and smiled. “It was nice tonight. One of the best times I’ve had in a long while.”
“Me too.” She padded over to him. “Thanks for the vodka, the pizza, the laughter, and telling me I’m pretty.” Her voice quivered and she dipped her head down.
He cupped her chin and tipped her head back. Latching his gaze on hers, he pressed his mouth on the soft cushion of her lips. A startled yelp escaped from her and she pulled away.
He straightened up. “I’m sorry. I crossed the fuckin’ line.” He spun around and had his hand on the doorknob when soft hands touched his forearms. She slid in front of him, stood up on her toes, and hooked her arms around his neck, pulling his face closer to hers. Desire shone in her eyes, and he yanked her to him and crushed his lips on hers, kissing her deeply. He wanted to devour her whole.
Clinging to him, her lips parted, allowing her moans of pleasure out and over his cheek. Raw intensity sizzled between them as they kissed frantically—breathing fast, heart rates faster.
Wheelie could feel her tits pressed against his chest, his jeans tightening painfully. Then the faces of his brothers flooded his mind. He willed them to go away but they were stubborn sonsofbitches. He owed loyalty to the brotherhood and to each brother, even Tigger.
Fuck! What a cock blocker. He pushed away gently and put his hands on Sofia’s drooping shoulders.
“I better get going.”
“Okay.” Her chin trembled, and he wanted to take her back in his arms and cover her in long, deep kisses.
“I shouldn’t have done that. I’m not sorry I did, but it’s just not cool with Tigger being a brother, you know?”
Lowering her head, she nodded. “I shouldn’t have done it either. I mean, I’m married.”
“I know.” He ran his fingers through her soft hair. “If you weren’t, I’d be all over you. Don’t ever think for a second I wouldn’t. If you need anything, call me. It’s too snowy for that bike ride. Maybe when the weather gets better.”
“Oh sure. That’s fine. I’ve got a ton of stuff to do around here, anyway. No worries.” Her voice quivered on the last two words.
“Okay. I’m off.”
“I’ll open the garage door for you. Goodbye, Wheelie.”
He walked out the back door, his boots crunching on bits of gravel on the concrete floor. The door opened and he slid into his Jeep. Waving at Sofia, he backed out and turned out of the driveway. Waiting for the door to close, he cursed his lack of self-control. He watched the house for a long time, and when all the lights turned off, he drove away and made his way home.
Inside his house, he kicked off his boots, grabbed a bottle of Jack, and stretched out on the couch. Taking a few gulps of whiskey, he stared out the window into the inky darkness.
The scent of Sofia still lingered on him. Her lips were so soft and her body felt damn good pressed into his.
I can’t go there.
But the problem was he already had.