Viking’s tongue flicks against one of his canines before grunting and taking a gulp of his drink. He sets the tumbler on the bar, a smirk taking over as he thinks over something. “When I claimed my ol’ lady, I pinned the bitch down and fucked her in the middle of a bar for taunting me.”
My eyes grow wide. It’s hard to imagine, Princess, his woman, seems too feisty to let that go over smoothly. “And Princess?”
“Oh, she was fucking pissed being claimed out in the open. I’d barely spoken a handful of words to her beforehand.”
My eyebrows must be to my hairline at this point hearing all of this come out. “You started the public claiming?”
He nods. “She slapped the shit out of me in front of the entire bar too.”
A grin breaks free as I attempt to hold back a laugh from spilling. Her slapping him is something I can definitely see happening. My Prez is a brute, though; I don’t see him putting up with it.
“Anyhow, that’s not where I’m going with this. My point is, after the slapping incident, she went a little nuts. She basically jumped on my cock, and I fucked her for four days relentlessly. The only break I had was to eat and shower.”
“Damn, sounds like you locked her down.”
He snorts. “I was dumb enough to think that at the time, but no.”
“No?”
“No brother, I didn’t lock her down. She locked me down. I was fucking hooked. I’ve taken her and planted my seed in that woman every damn day since.”
“Doesn’t sound so bad to me.” I shrug.
He shakes his head, gesturing for Chaos to refill his glass before turning back to me. “It’s not—at all. It’s part of the reason why my loyalty has never wavered from her. I’m her king, and she’s my queen. This doesn’t have to do with me though. The way I saw you and Chevelle act and fuck, it just reminded me of myself when I first met my woman. Don’t be surprised if Chevelle acts a little crazy and possessive for a while. It’s all part of the effects of being owned properly.”
“I can’t believe I’ve never heard of this before.” The concept is a touch crazy in itself. However, it would explain why my presence around Jude didn’t do anything. Usually, I can have a woman eating from my palm if I wanted to, but she couldn’t see past Saint and Sinner. I’m glad too. Clearly, I wasn’t meant to have her. I just didn’t know I’d be meeting Chevelle at the time. “I appreciate the info. I’ll do what I need to.”
“Good. Now we need to discuss those Fists that popped up earlier. What the fuck happened?”
I let him know everything Chevelle told me all the way up until Torch and Odin showed up to collect the unconscious men. When I finish disclosing what I know, she’s making her way to us.
“Chevelle.” Viking greets with a nod as I sit on the other side of Mercenary at the bar. Every man in this place looks like a goddamn tank. I’m not normally very nervous around men since I can usually kick their asses, but this place has me off balance. There’s so much testosterone floating around, I swear you can taste it. Not only are the bikers in the Oath Keepers the size of mountains and full of muscles, but they’re all gorgeous in their own unique way.
“Hello, Viking,” I greet, feeling a bit more confident now that I’ve had a chance to clean up and put my shorts back on.
The MC brother behind the bar approaches me. He’s built like a linebacker and fits in here with the rest of them. I grin reading over his name patch—Chaos. If I was a biker, I’d definitely want a road name like that.
“Cool name.” I nod to the right side of his cut, and he offers me a grin in return. He’s older than the rest of the guys around this place but super good-looking. I don’t know what they put in the water or beer here, but it’s a club full of ridiculously hot, broody, outlaw bikers. I wonder if you have to be hot in order to wear the Oath Keeper patch. It wouldn’t surprise me, at this point.
“Thanks, peach, can I get you something to drink?”
“Sure, I’ll take a seven-seven if you have it.”
“That’s vodka and seven up, mixed with ice, right?”
My grin drops as my eyes scan over the bar, checking if they have the liquor for the drink in stock. “It’s Seagram’s with 7 Up.” You’d think he’d know how to make the simple drink; he’s the only one back there.
“Okay, no problem,” he mutters and turns away to mix it.
“Thanks,” I say, but I don’t think he hears me; he seems to be in his own zone, concentrating on pouring the Seagram’s.
Viking leans in. “He just started tending bar for us this week.”
“Oh.” I nod. Not that it matters to me. It was nice of him to ask if I wanted something since Mercenary didn’t think to.
“Now, Chevelle, would you mind explaining to me your side of what all happened today? I need to know from you shooting those two guys all the way down to my brother here getting into a fight over you.”
“Well, it wasn’t over me, per se. I sort of jumped out of my car and threw the first hit. It wasn’t until the guy punched me back that Mercenary lost it on him.”