winced, then he dropped her hand and watched as she took a step back. There was hatred in her gaze as she stared up at him.
“You’re going to regret tossing me aside,” she said.
“No. What I regret is ever fucking you to begin with.”
Her cheeks flushed as she turned on her heel and stormed back inside, probably to tell his brothers what a big meanie he was. And more than likely, someone would fall for her story and take her to bed tonight. What she needed was a final send off, with her tail tucked between her legs for her treachery. There was no way Celia had been in that office by mistake. And there were plenty of drugs to be had around the club, so that only left money. She had to have been looking to steal from them. Maybe she was after the $250,000, or maybe she wanted more than that. What she didn’t know was that they seldom left cash lying around; it was locked up tightly in the safe in the boardroom, and even she wouldn’t be stupid enough to wander into that place.
Blaze shook out another cigarette and lit it up. He inhaled deeply and held the breath a moment before blowing the smoke out. He could practically feel the nicotine give him an extra charge just from that one puff. His ma had been after him to quit for years, but it wasn’t like he was going to get cancer from it, not with his shifter abilities.
She should just be thankful he’d kicked his heroin habit before it had really gotten its hooks into him. He’d watched some of his brothers detox from that shit and it wasn’t pretty.
Truthfully, he didn’t know what the future held for him at this point. He was an officer with the Steel Riders M.C. and his brothers were his life. But he couldn’t ignore the emptiness he’d been feeling lately, the dull ache inside that told him something was missing. Yeah, he had a great time—drinking, smoking, and fucking anything in a skirt, but lately that wasn’t enough. He’d never dare voice his feelings or his brothers would call him a pussy and question his ability to hold the position of Sergeant-at-Arms. Blaze was known for his take-no-prisoners attitude and ability to beat the shit out of a man without blinking. And he regretted nothing he’d done for the club over the last twenty years.
He was pushing forty now. Maybe it was time to settle down. Blaze had always
thought he’d know his mate when he met her, that there would be some instant pull, some recognition on his part, but what if that was just a fairy tale? What if he’d wasted all these years waiting on something that might not ever happen when he could have found some nice girl and settled down years ago? Assuming he could find a nice girl who wouldn’t mind his lifestyle. Not too many good girls wanted to link themselves to a biker for more than one night.
Yeah. That’s what he wanted. Some prim, proper, buttoned-up woman who
looked like a librarian on the outside, but fucked like a wild cat. If he closed his eyes, he could almost see her. It was enough to get his dick hard. With a grunt, he put out his cigarette and contemplated his next move. He could go back inside, join the merriment and get laid once or twice by the random girls inside. Or he could call it a night and head home.
The thought of Celia being inside was almost enough to make up his mind. He
wasn’t sure he could keep his cool if he saw her again tonight, especially not if she approached him. There was something off about that female. He’d felt it when he fucked her, but she’d merely been a way to blow off steam and get his dick wet. He should probably feel bad about treating the women in the clubhouse like they were disposable, but to him, they really were. They’d chosen this life: the random hook-ups, drugs, and whatever else happened within the walls of the Steel Riders M.C. clubhouse.
No one forced them to let every male inside fuck them any way they wanted. What kind of woman volunteered for that shit? Didn’t they have any self-respect?
If
“You’re going to regret tossing me aside,” she said.
“No. What I regret is ever fucking you to begin with.”
Her cheeks flushed as she turned on her heel and stormed back inside, probably to tell his brothers what a big meanie he was. And more than likely, someone would fall for her story and take her to bed tonight. What she needed was a final send off, with her tail tucked between her legs for her treachery. There was no way Celia had been in that office by mistake. And there were plenty of drugs to be had around the club, so that only left money. She had to have been looking to steal from them. Maybe she was after the $250,000, or maybe she wanted more than that. What she didn’t know was that they seldom left cash lying around; it was locked up tightly in the safe in the boardroom, and even she wouldn’t be stupid enough to wander into that place.
Blaze shook out another cigarette and lit it up. He inhaled deeply and held the breath a moment before blowing the smoke out. He could practically feel the nicotine give him an extra charge just from that one puff. His ma had been after him to quit for years, but it wasn’t like he was going to get cancer from it, not with his shifter abilities.
She should just be thankful he’d kicked his heroin habit before it had really gotten its hooks into him. He’d watched some of his brothers detox from that shit and it wasn’t pretty.
Truthfully, he didn’t know what the future held for him at this point. He was an officer with the Steel Riders M.C. and his brothers were his life. But he couldn’t ignore the emptiness he’d been feeling lately, the dull ache inside that told him something was missing. Yeah, he had a great time—drinking, smoking, and fucking anything in a skirt, but lately that wasn’t enough. He’d never dare voice his feelings or his brothers would call him a pussy and question his ability to hold the position of Sergeant-at-Arms. Blaze was known for his take-no-prisoners attitude and ability to beat the shit out of a man without blinking. And he regretted nothing he’d done for the club over the last twenty years.
He was pushing forty now. Maybe it was time to settle down. Blaze had always
thought he’d know his mate when he met her, that there would be some instant pull, some recognition on his part, but what if that was just a fairy tale? What if he’d wasted all these years waiting on something that might not ever happen when he could have found some nice girl and settled down years ago? Assuming he could find a nice girl who wouldn’t mind his lifestyle. Not too many good girls wanted to link themselves to a biker for more than one night.
Yeah. That’s what he wanted. Some prim, proper, buttoned-up woman who
looked like a librarian on the outside, but fucked like a wild cat. If he closed his eyes, he could almost see her. It was enough to get his dick hard. With a grunt, he put out his cigarette and contemplated his next move. He could go back inside, join the merriment and get laid once or twice by the random girls inside. Or he could call it a night and head home.
The thought of Celia being inside was almost enough to make up his mind. He
wasn’t sure he could keep his cool if he saw her again tonight, especially not if she approached him. There was something off about that female. He’d felt it when he fucked her, but she’d merely been a way to blow off steam and get his dick wet. He should probably feel bad about treating the women in the clubhouse like they were disposable, but to him, they really were. They’d chosen this life: the random hook-ups, drugs, and whatever else happened within the walls of the Steel Riders M.C. clubhouse.
No one forced them to let every male inside fuck them any way they wanted. What kind of woman volunteered for that shit? Didn’t they have any self-respect?
If
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