Precarious

“You’re goin’ to be the fuckin’ death of me, Ash,” he says, jerking his jeans back up.

“I could say the same,” I whisper, leaning down to find my clothes.

He sits on the end of the bed, watching me dress.

“About earlier,” he begins.

I put my hand up. “We don’t know each other, Krypt. Can we just . . . can we just go with it for now?”

He stares at me, his eyes intense. With a sigh, he nods. “I can go with it, sweetheart, but know this.” He stands, and leans in close. “I won’t be waitin’ forever.”

I swallow as he steps past me, and walks towards the door.

“Krypt?” I call out.

He turns.

“Don’t think that it wouldn’t be an honor to be with you like that. It’s just . . .”

“I know,” he grinds out. “It’s just it ain’t for you.”

He walks out without another word.

Well, if I’d never felt used before, I certainly do now.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Krypt avoids me the entire next day.

That’s fine; I’m still deliciously sore because of our actions. Each time I move I’m reminded of his heated length sliding into me, fucking me into oblivion. Just the very thought of it has my skin tingling. He might think he’s not for me, but he’s very wrong. He’s all I can think about. He’s consuming me.

“Get her up here. It’s not safe for her down there.”

I hear Krypt’s voice as I move through the halls the next evening. I stop, pressing myself against the wall. Who is he talking about?

“She’s not goin’ to be happy with that, Krypt,” Tyke growls. “She doesn’t want to be in this life.”

“She ain’t gettin’ a choice. It’s dangerous, and if Howard figures out she’s lookin’ for me¸ he’ll jump at the chance to take her.”

“Fine, but you ain’t gonna be the one to go and get her.”

“Think I don’t know that?” Krypt barks.

I wonder whom they’re talking about. My mind spins with the possibilities. An old flame? A sister? A friend? A niece? The shuffling of boots has my body launching off the wall. I crash right into Krypt’s hard, muscled chest.

“Oh, sorry,” I mumble, pushing back. “I was just, ah, I was . . .”

Shit.

I look up to see Krypt smirking at me. The arrogant jerk. His eyes flash with humor; he’s finding it amusing that I’m stuttering like a small child in front of him. I take a breath and straighten my shoulders, turning on my heel and disappearing down the hall.

“Good to see you, Ash.” He chuckles.

I throw my finger up over my shoulder and his laughing intensifies. He can’t see it, but I have a huge smile on my face. I duck around the corner into the kitchen; I haven’t eaten all day. When I get in, a few of the club whores are gathered around, making sandwiches. They look up when I come in. Three of them give me sour expressions, and I recognize one of the ladies as Krypt’s striptease. Yeah, I outdid you baby. The fourth one is softer, her face less tense.

“Ladies,” I murmur, walking past them.

“That’s Krypt’s whore,” one mutters.

I snort. “I’m no one’s whore, honey. I fuck because I want to fuck, not because I’m desperate for attention.”

“Bitch,” another grunts.

“Tell yourself whatever you want.” The third laughs.

I ignore them, listening to them leave the room. I turn, thinking I’m alone, only to see the fourth, quieter girl watching me. She’s pretty, and not in the cheap kind of way. Her body is curvy, sure, but it’s not slutty or fake. Her long black hair falls over her shoulders in curls, and her eyes are a soft green.

“Why are you here?” she asks, her voice small.

I tilt my head to the side, watching her. “I don’t really have a choice.”

“You’re not a whore?”

“No, of course not.”

I realize how rude that sounded and go to correct myself, but she jumps in.

“Don’t say sorry.” She gives me a sad smile. “It’s not for everyone.”

I narrow my eyes. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing being a piece of ass for a biker, who really doesn’t treat you the way you deserve to be treated?”

“They don’t treat me so bad,” she whispers. “I’m the one they treat most gently, for whatever reason.”

I can see the reason. She’s softer than the rest; it’s clear by the way she holds herself.

“Why do you do it?” I ask, stepping closer.

She contemplates this for a while, before saying, “They make me feel . . . important.”

“But,” I hesitate, wanting to word this correctly, “but they are treating you like a sex toy.”

“Not all of them.” She smiles coyly. “Some treat me better than that.”

“Even so, they’re never going to give you what you want, so why do you stay?”

Her eyes grow dark. “Because, even in their worst times, they’re the best I have.”

My heart breaks for her. “I understand that,” I say, smiling weakly.

“They take care of me, even if I am only a piece of ass. That’s something.”

“You’re right.” I nod, understanding. “It is.”

“Anyway, I have to go. Tyke is waiting for me.”