“Yeah,” I agreed. “That’s probably for the best. Thank you for checking on me, Sandman.”
He winked. “Anytime, Shasta.”
I followed him to the door, ready to close it between us. He totally took me by surprise when he whipped around suddenly, and our bodies were dangerously close together.
“By the way,” he breathed out, his urgent breath tickling the hairs on my cheek. “You should probably know that not only am I not a snitch, but I’m also a very jealous man, and when I found out that Snyder and Clash got a special taste of you, jealousy swept through every damn bone in my body. You’re lucky I didn’t get to you first, Shasta, because I would’ve torn you apart and left them with nothing, keeping the mess I made of you all to myself.”
His words were like sweet poison—a poison I was dying to sip and get drunk on. His thumb traced across my lip, but he didn’t act on his beautiful threat. He just stepped away, leaving me breathless and lusting for more.
“What the hell was that?” Ramona asked when she heard me lock the front door.
“Honestly, I have no fucking idea.”
And I really didn’t.
I was a puddle of mush, too dumfounded to understand what the fuck was happening. How was it possible to be attracted to so many men at once? I always thought I was only meant for Adam, but the more time I spend with his club, the more I felt like I belong to them all.
Chapter Two
Sandman
Clash and Snyder were waiting for me when I got back to the clubhouse, both of them sitting there like a couple of gossiping hens, just waiting for my return.
“Jesus, took you long enough,” Clash said with a pout. “Don’t tell me you wanted my sloppy seconds already?”
Snyder smacked him upside the head, just as I punched him as hard as I fucking could in the arm.
“Fuck!” he yelped. He rubbed at his head, then massaged his arm, grimacing when he saw the purpling bruise starting to form on his bicep. “You left a goddamn bruise. Shit, what the fuck was that for?”
“For learning how to talk,” Snyder snipped. “You should learn to keep your mouth shut. Besides, there’s nothing sloppy about Shasta, and you know it.”
Clash took a long swig of his beer, rotating his shoulder. “Except the way she sucks dick… with that, she can be as sloppy as she fucking wants.”
Snyder smacked him again, this time making him almost gag on his beer bottle.
“Fuck, Snyder, you almost made me deep throat my bottle.”
“Like you could take something that big,” Snyder joked. “Especially since you’re so used to teeny-tiny things.” His eyes moved down to Clash’s crotch, and he smirked.
Clash’s hands defensively covered his family jewels. “Hey now, we both know that my dick is impressive as fuck. Just ask your mom.”
Snyder’s hands smacked on the table, instantly rising to his feet.
“You want to go?”
Clash was up and out of his seat within seconds. “Maybe I do.”
Fuck, this was exhausting.
“Both of you need to calm the fuck down. You’re brothers, for Christ’s sake.”
“Only on the road,” Clash clapped back. “If he was my real brother, I’d disown him… or have drowned him when he was still sucking on momma’s tit.”
“First off, loud mouth, I’m older than you by quite a few years. So, if anybody would be sucking on his momma’s tit, it’d be you. Second, the feeling is most definitely mutual. Hell, I’d disown you now if it weren’t for that patch on your back,” Snyder snarled, while scowling and clenching his fists.
“What the fuck happened to you two? One minute, you guys are best friends, the next you’re ready to kill each other.”
They both glared at each other before turning those glares on me. “Shasta,” they said in unison.