Screwed by Sam Crescent

Chapter One
    “You’re a fucking asshole.”
    Jesse Jenkins watched the woman he’d just fucked storm around the room. Tiffany was her name and she was well-known for fucking club men in the Demons MC. This was his room in the clubhouse and he’d be damned if he moved for the bitch. He also knew Tiffany was known by many motorcycle clubs, the other being the Hell’s Charter a town over. Jesse hated the other bikers; they were fucking thieves.
    “Whatever,” he said, exhaling a ring of smoke up to the ceiling. What was it with women? One second they were all over you, wanting to suck your cock, and then when you told them the score, they got all bitchy.
    “You really are an evil son of a bitch, aren’t you?”
    Why was she still fucking talking? Did she not know he hated women who constantly talked after fucking?
    Stubbing out his cigarette, Jesse stared at the woman intent on giving him a headache. “Are you still fucking here?” he asked, wanting her out of his room and out of the club. Her pussy was great for the time he’d used her but now he wanted her out.
    “I hate you. I can’t believe I did this again.”
    “Tiffany, let’s be clear, you’ll always be in this position. No one wants you for an old lady. You’re a fucking whore and you’re only good for one thing—on your back with your legs spread.
    She growled, threw an empty shot glass toward him and stormed out of his room. He heard laughter in the distance as she walked away.
    “Jesse’s pissed off another one.” It had to be Spike talking. The other fucker didn’t know how to keep his mouth fucking shut.
    Staring at the broken glass, he rolled his eyes. He’d get one of the sweet butts to clear that shit away.
    Grabbing his jacket from the back of the door, he put it on as he made his way down to the main club. Several men were already sipping coffee as he approached. “You look too fucking cheery,” Ben said.
    Nodding at the other men, Jesse took a seat and waited for his coffee. Leslie, one of the sweet butts—and a good screw—poured the coffee.
    “Hey, sweetness, I don’t suppose you’d take your sweet ass upstairs and clean up the glass Tiffany broke.” Using his smoothest voice, Jesse tried to appeal to her kind heart.
    “I’m not cleaning up after that whore,” Leslie said.
    Raising a brow, Jesse took a sip of the hot liquid.
    “Come on, Jesse, you know what the women think of other women,” Spike said, interrupting the moment.
    Jesse knew all about the jealousy going on between all the women within the club but they all had a certain standard for each other. Leslie was a club sweet butt as she didn’t go to any other club whereas Tiffany wasn’t held in the same regard. Tiffany would fuck anything with a cock and would never be allowed in on club business.
    “Damn right. I’ll clean your room for you but not because of her.” Jesse watched her walk off, grabbing some cleaning supplies before calling out to the other women to help her clean his room.
    “Man, you almost got fucked over and had to clean your own room.” Spike chuckled, spilling coffee over the counter.
    “Shut the fuck up. You know Tiffany’s got a nice pussy and mouth. I was in the mood for ease and she’s that kind of woman.” Shaking his head, Jesse stepped away from the counter. He moved toward the front door, intent on getting out of the building and into the fresh morning air. It was icy cold out but he liked the feel of the chill.
    At thirty years old he loved life. Becoming a member of Demons was the best thing that had ever happened to him. The club life, the women, the feel of his bike between his thighs were the best feelings in the world. He sipped some coffee before lighting up his cigarette and turned to stare at the clubhouse that was also his home.
    He owned an apartment in town but most of his life was in this one building. No women went back to his place. This is where his life would remain.
    “I thought I’d find you out