“Hmm.”
I know I’m plenty alpha to give her what she needs. The real trouble is breaking her just enough to get my chance. I’ve always been up for a challenge, though, and it’ll be a good distraction.
My brothers Saint and Sinner just claimed their woman, and I’ve been a bit taken with her ever since I showed up from Chicago. I was set on getting my chance to fuck her, but club law says I can no longer touch her since she’s property. As much as I don’t want to respect that rule, I have to, or those two could skin me up and bleed me dry in retaliation if they wanted to.
“Anyone break club law around here?” I ask absently, lost in the thought of my brothers’ ol’ lady.
He pauses from scratching the Doberman’s belly to glance up at me. “What did you do?”
“Nothing.” I clear my throat. “Just curious what the club did as punishment.”
“I’ve heard you were a bit rough around the edges, we all have,” Odin admits. “But that’s why we believed you’d fit in with us. The last thing you want to do is cross my brother or any others, in any way.”
“Is that coming from the man’s blood brother or the VP of my club?”
“Both. No one knows him better than me. Well, maybe his ol’ lady, but when it comes to club business, I know what makes Viking tick. He values his club and woman.”
“Good to know,” I reply, and he stands from his haunches.
“I won’t pretend to know what you’re goin’ through man but trust me when I say Texas is the best place for you. Especially if you don’t fit in between the lines anywhere else. We’re all fucked up; every single one of us, in some way.”
I’ve never really fit. I don’t let anyone know that though. I’ve gotten used to being alone when it boils down to it. I’m surprised Odin picked up on that so easily. Maybe he does know what it’s like to stand outside of the lines.
“I appreciate that, O.” He may be the youngest brother around here, but he’s the easiest to talk to. I’m the newest member in this chapter, so I suppose it helps to have the VP at my back too.
“Were any of the Fists around when you were at The Pit?” The dog gets back up, nose pushing through the grass, searching for bugs, I suppose.
“No, just a few employees. Looked like they were cleaning up. Chevelle was down on the track working on a handful of cars.”
“Those are all hers.”
“No fucking way.” My eyes widen, hands resting on my hips as the dog covers its nose with soil.
He nods. “She’s dead serious on that track, and she’s rarely beaten.” We head back toward the club, dog in tow. After a beat, he asks, “Did you challenge her?”
“You could say that.”
He stops, turning to face me again. “What did you do? Viking will be pissed if you fucked up their truce.”
“I should say she challenged me. I had to race her to get a chance to speak to her.”
His lips turn into a grin. “Yeah? How’d that turn out for you?”
“Well, she threw her time in my face, told me I had the same amount to speak. I couldn’t put up much of a fight since I rode her taillights the entire time.”
Odin laughs loudly, not trying to save my pride in the slightest. “Can’t say I’m surprised. Like I already said, she’s serious,” he declares and continues toward the door.
“Wish I’d known that prior to riding over.”
He nods. “You want her attention, then you need to at least almost beat her on the track.”
“We’ll see. I have a feeling she’s used to dickless pricks.”
“This is going to be fun to watch. You whither her resolve down so I can tap that ass after you do all of the work.”
I snort in reply, and he chuckles again crossing the threshold to the bar.
“Brothers, church is in session,” Viking declares, slamming the gavel to the table.