Rusty Cage (Rawlins Heretics MC Book 1) Page 3

  Oz doesn’t follow me, but I hear him laughing at my anger. I’ve known massively gargantuan pains in the ass before, but this guy takes the damn cake.

  ➸ Oz ★

  Ginger is something special. I can’t figure out just what makes her intoxicating, but she has me addicted. So I follow her into the townhome with the hope of making her as crazy as she’s made me. If she won’t lose her mind over my many foxy qualities, I’ll drive her insane in other ways.

  “We want the same flooring in every unit,” says a short-haired woman in the kitchen. “It’ll lower costs if we buy materials in bulk.”

  “Don’t you want to personalize shit?” Blackjack asks, sounding angry.

  “If we did, would I have just fucking said we’re installing the same fucking fixtures in every fucking townhome?” the chick says, glaring up at him.

  “On the rag, baby?”

  The chick looks to Ginger, and I sense she wants the green light to hurt Blackjack. Whether she could take down my biggest guy, I don’t need our two groups getting violent so quickly.

  “Be cool, man,” I tell Blackjack. “She wants what she wants, and she’s the client.”

  Blackjack stares at me with his nearly black eyes. Then he looks at Ginger whose back is to me. I don’t know what he sees on her face, but I notice his fists tighten.

  “Be cool, everyone,” I say and wrap an arm around Ginger’s shoulders. “We’re on the same side here.”

  Ginger tries to shove me off her, but I’m a mountain to her mouse-sized shove. She nails me in the gut, which hurts a little, but not enough to prevent me from ruffling her hair as she walks away.

  “Who the fuck is that?” asks the girl who loves the word fuck.

  “This is Osiris, their president.”

  “Osiris?” the fox asks.

  “Yep. What’s your name, sweet thang?”

  “Pepper. I don’t fuck men, so stop looking at me like that.”

  “No worries, pumpkin. I’m only interested in fucking your boss here. I know a couple of gay chicks in town if you’re looking for a girlfriend.”

  “I have a partner,” Pepper says, gesturing at a dark-haired, freckled face woman to my left. I notice this one looks more laidback, though she’s fingering her pocket where a weapon likely hides. “She doesn’t fuck men either, so stop leering.”

  “You think everyone’s leering,” I say and walk to Ginger. “This one right here is the only fox I’m looking to get knuckles deep in.”

  Ginger exhales hard, and I sense violence in the room. Her girls want to beat up my guys who mostly want to fuck her girls. Well, Blackjack just looks like he wants to leave, but he’s never known a good thing when he saw it.

  “Here’s what’s happening,” Ginger says, sounding pissed enough to crush a pair of balls with her mind. “Anyone with a dick gets the fuck out of the townhome. They will get on their bikes and ride away. Later, they can work on the details. Those without dicks will stay to work on a list of repairs.”

  “What about Glitch?” Camo asks. “He came with us, but falls within the dickless category.”

  Glitch takes a swing at Camo who ducks and runs for the door. The rest of the men follow except for me since I don’t take orders from girls. Well, except for my mom and daughter, but every rule needs an exception.

  “Your cheeks are so pink,” I say and run my knuckles across her face.

  “Personal space, ape,” she growls and shoves at my chest.

  I nearly feel sorry for her when I don’t budge. Ginger must have spent her entire life pushing around smaller men. She’ll need to adjust to this new, larger, and more impressive reality.

  “I stand where I want and against the foxes I want.”

  “Does your mother know you sexually harass women?”

  “If you mean, does she know I put my needs above others’? Yes, she raised me to be a winner.”

  Already addicted to Ginger’s pissed-off glare, I’ve turned into a kid with his first crush. Pretty soon I’ll show her I care by pulling her pigtails and shoving her in the mud.

  Ginger takes a deep breath and holds my gaze. “You never asked about my sniper.”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Didn’t you wonder who she was aiming at during our meeting?”

  “Why was she aiming at anyone?”

  “In case shit went wrong, and I needed to threaten you to get out of the situation.”

  “I thought you’d have red hair. Isn’t that odd?”

  “She was aiming at your mom, idiot.”

  Rolling my eyes, I reach for her hair. “You weren’t going to shoot my mom.”

  “No, I wasn’t, but my sniper would. Not that it would be her fault. You’d be the one who forced her to pull the trigger.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Which part?”

  “You didn’t point a gun at my mom.”

  “I didn’t, no.”

  “You wouldn’t have hurt her,” I state as a fact.

  “Wrong.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “You already said that.”

  “I don’t buy the tough bitch act. Messing with someone’s mom is evil shit, and I don’t believe you’re evil.”

  “Wrong again.”

  “Why fuck with someone’s mom? That’s too fucked up.”

  Enjoying my anger, Ginger smiles at me. “I’ve seen men who torture their lovers and rape their children but will turn into blubbering messes when their mommies are in danger. That’s why I always threaten their moms. It’s a widespread practice in Little Memphis.”

  “Well, this isn’t Little Memphis, and don’t ever fuck with my mom again.”

  “Don’t force me to.”

  “I didn’t force you to do shit.”

  “And that’s why she didn’t get hurt. If you had fucked with me during the meeting, I would have given you a choice to back down or sacrifice your mom. That would have been on you.”

  “You sick little bitch,” I growl and imagine someone pointing a rifle at my mom sitting on our porch.

  “Does this mean you don’t want to sexually harass me anymore?”

  “Don’t be stupid. I don’t have to like you to want to fuck you.”

  Ginger’s eyes light up with rage. I instantly feel a smile on my face and a hard-on in my work jeans. The chick’s anger just sets my body on fire.

  “You need to leave,” she hisses, losing her temper in a way I doubt she often does.

  “I will, and I’ll also talk to my guys about showing more respect. First, though, you have to say the magic word.”

  Ginger wants to hurt me. A violent rage blazes across her beautiful face. She also wants me balls deep in her. A horny-as-hell desire shines in her blue eyes. Mostly, I think Ginger wants to remain in control, and that just isn’t fucking happening when I’m around.

  “Please,” she says, desperate for my tempting presence to leave her sight.

  “One day, you’ll say that while on your knees, and I’ll give in then too.”

  “Fuckwit.”

  Laughing, I give her a wink before spinning on my heel and heading for the front door. I nod a goodbye to Pepper and her partner, Freckles. These women are more dangerous than I gave them credit. Except I now know they won’t attack unless Ginger gives them permission and she wants me too much to ever cross a line she can’t walk back.

  ➸ Ginger ☆

  Finally able to breathe again, I watch Oz round up his idiot apes and head to their Harleys. Behind me, Pepper seethes in the kitchen while Bay still messes with the weapon hiding in her jeans. I’m irritated by how short-tempered my girls were with men they had to know were obnoxious. After so many years dealing with scum, we ought to have tougher armor.

  “What the hell was that?” Pepper demands. “You need to shiv that fucker before he fucks you in front of everyone and asks his buddies to join in.”

  Never in my life have I been as happy as I am now not to have Yarrow present. Pepper’s temper is t
he fuse to set off the younger woman, and no amount of Bay’s cool will calm either of them.

  “It’s just a show,” I tell Pepper. “How can you not see that? He’s playing a role to save face to his idiot club brothers.”

  “Fuck his role-playing crap. You need to stomp that shit.”

  “Why?” I ask in a tone I use when I’m ready to punch someone in the head.

  “Because if he shows you disrespect, it tells the others they can too.”

  “Is it disrespect or is he a horny loser? Besides, you know we’re here for two reasons, and one of them is to supervise the Heretics. Stomping on bikers makes them either pathetic or bitter. We need the club boys to do what they do, so we aren’t forced to pick up the slack in Rawlins.”

  “Are you certain that’s not your lust talking?” Pepper asks, clearly wearing on her big girl britches. “He sure got you flustered.”

  “Do I find him hot? Hell yeah. Do I want to fuck him? Yeah, I see that happening, sure. If he was a hideous hag, would I treat him any different? No, because I don’t have the luxury of turning him into my bitch without turning the club into our responsibility. I don’t want to be their boss. Oz is their alpha, and we need him to stay their alpha. Unless you’re interested in spending our time worrying about meth deals and territory disputes.”

  Bay looks to Pepper and silently reminds her of their plans. I watch them share a few silent moments of conversation. Pepper finally exhales loudly, giving into her woman’s pressure.

  “We want to build legal businesses here,” Bay says aloud. “And I want a baby. We can’t have those if we’re dealing with the dirty shit. That’s all true, but Oz thinks he has your number, Ginger. He doesn’t want to be our muscle. He wants you to be his fuck-toy. No doubt those fuckers will start sniffing around Yarrow too.”

  “I pity the man who makes that move,” Pepper mutters.

  “Yes, so aren’t we just prolonging the inevitable showdown with them?” Bay asks. “When one of them fucks with Yarrow, she’ll overreact, and we’ll have to back her up. Then what?”

  “Then we grab one of the Heretics dicks and make an example of him. Until then, let me handle Oz while you two organize the townhome remodels. I’d bring in two crews. The Heretics will behave if they have competition. The male ego is a helluva thing.”

  Bay nods, clearly ready to start our new life. Pepper, though, has a brain for strategy and violence. She wasn’t fond of playing nice with the Little Memphis MC, and I don’t expect her to do much better with the local boys.

  While Pepper and eventually Yarrow’s behavior with the men isn’t shocking, I can’t say the same about mine with Oz. Despite my assurances to the girls, I’m over my head with the club president. It’s like he possesses my owner’s manual and knows exactly what buttons to push to throw me off my game.

  Until I get my shit under control, avoiding Oz might be the only way to avoid things getting out of hand. After all, I’ve killed men for less than making me crazy.

  Chapter Four

  kolohe

  ➸ Ginger ☆

  With the work crews arriving tomorrow to start work on the townhomes, the girls and I still need to make final decisions on the flooring and countertop choices. We’ve picked faucets, cabinets, and paint colors.

  Though I expected the renovation process to put us on edge, I vastly underestimated how tense the girls would be in our new town. In Little Memphis, we knew the layout, threats, and our allies. Now they assume everyone is our enemy and we ought to come into every situation shooting.

  I’ve done my part to keep things calm by staying far away from Oz. Cayenne deals with the club almost always on the phone. We keep our distance, and the Heretics catch the hint and keep theirs.

  Until now.

  Oz towers over the staff of the home improvement store. I consider pretending I don’t see him, but playing games is beneath me. I’m not afraid of him. Not of his size or violent capabilities or good looks. He’s just a man, and I’ve dealt with plenty of them. No more dodging him, I hold my ground when he struts toward me in the paint department.

  “You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, wagging a finger at my face. “Couldn’t handle such drenched panties?”

  “More like I had no resistance to your stink.”

  “Sounds about right,” he says and taps my nose. “You’re looking damn foxy for a run to the home improvement store.”

  “Just between you and me, there’s a sexy fucker who works here. I was hoping to do a little flirting, but I haven’t seen him today.”

  He leans closer and glances down the V-neck of my beige T-shirt. “Whatever the twerp has, I’m sporting extra inches.”

  “He has a nice smile.” On cue, Oz smiles big, and I instantly shudder. “You’re sporting freak show shit right there.”

  “Don’t be cruel, Ginger Snaps. I’m a man with deep, foxy feelings for you.”

  “For me or for my boobs?”

  “My dick is in love with your boobs, but my heart beats faster for the rest of you. Like your face and ankles and shit.”

  “Ankles?” I ask, losing to the smile now on my face.

  “I’ve got the ankle fetish.”

  “Huh, I find that interesting.”

  “Let’s have dinner, and I’ll admire your ankles, and my dick can enjoy its proximity to your boobs, and we can even talk about meaningful shit like the meaning of life and our favorite colors.”

  “I don’t eat.”

  “Fine. You can sit next to me while I eat. That way, you’ll have more time to talk,” he says and then lowers his lips to my right ear. I refuse to shiver at the feel of his hot breath on my skin. “I know how girls love to talk.”

  I turn my face toward him until our lips are maybe an inch apart. He seriously considers kissing me in the paint section of the hardware store. Then my tongue darts out and licks his lips.

  I swear this move nearly fucking kills him.

  No doubt every drop of blood in his entire body shoots directly to the erection I see bulging through his jeans. Nothing is left for his brain, let alone to keep his heart beating. I wonder if he’ll keel over soon.

  Oz takes a full minute to get everything flowing right again. By then, I’ve walked away.

  He catches up to me in the carpet area. “Let’s go to the restroom and deal with my dick,” he says while pressing my hand against his erection.

  “No. I’m much too dry for sex,” I say while fighting laughter.

  “My tongue will get you ready.”

  “If I had a buck for every time a guy promised me that.”

  Oz quickly wraps an arm around my waist and lifts me off the ground. The bastard carries me to a more secluded aisle. The second he sets me down, I throw a punch he barely dodges. Shit just got very real.

  Oz has officially crossed too many lines for me not to beat the shit out of him. Sexy or not, he needs to learn some damn boundaries.

  “Do you want to fight?” he asks after dodging my fist.

  “Sure.”

  “I’m twice your size. Doesn’t seem fair.”

  “I know, but I promise I’ll take it easy on you.”

  “There’s no way you beat me in hand-to-hand combat, foxy. It’s against nature.”

  “Miracles happen, and I cheat, so I can’t lose.”

  Nodding, Oz circles me, and I wonder if he’ll make the first move. If this was a real fight, I’d have thrown something at him by now and attacked his knee. Well, his knee is about as thick as a tree trunk, so I might need to go lower to the ankle. Either way, I’d hurt him until he begged for mercy.

  Except this isn’t a real fight.

  “Boop,” Oz says before reaching around with his long arm and rapping me on the back of the head. “Gotcha.”

  “Vermin,” I growl and throw my water bottle at his face.

  Batting it away like Kong disposing of an old-fashioned airplane, Oz laughs at my attempt.

  “Your cheeks are so red right now. I bet tha
t’s how you look when you’re well fucked too.”

  Knowing he’s goading me, I shouldn’t fall for his shit. Unfortunately, whenever he pushes my buttons, I can’t seem NOT to react. This time is no exception.

  I run at him, ready to nail him as hard as I can in the face. At the last moment, I pull my punch because I realize I don’t want to hurt him for real.

  Oz takes advantage of my hesitation by slapping away my punch and sidestepping my momentum. He wraps his arms around me and pins my arms.

  “What do I get for winning?” he asks against my ear. “Wait, is the prize your butt wiggling against my dick?”

  Grunting, I try to break free. When that doesn’t happen, I stomp on his feet. Oz responds by picking me up and swinging me gently back and forth.

  “Are you ready to give up, blondie?”

  I manage to reposition my hand behind me enough to grab his crotch. Rather than his dick, I slam into something hard.

  “Are you wearing a cup?” I grumble.

  “I knew you’d go for the crotch.”

  “Cheater,” I say, laughing at how he out-planned me.

  “And I was smart enough not to let you know I was planning to cheat before we got started.”

  “True,” I say and go limp. “Now please let me loose before you piss me off and we’re no longer smiling.”

  Oz lowers me to the ground, removes his grip from around me, and steps back quickly before I can hurt him. I glance back at him and smile.

  “Scared?” I ask while arching a brow.

  “A cup can only protect so much.”

  Smiling wider, I shove my hands into my pockets. “You won fair and square. I’ll honor that and your cup.”

  Oz grins, and I know he’s thinking dirty thoughts. Fucking me is written all over his sexy face.

  “Despite what you’ve heard, I’m not a slut. When I fuck, I get attached, and I don’t think you want me to attach to you, Oz.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I’m not afraid of having a woman cling to me. I just never found a woman willing to stick it out.”

  “Oh, so they all leave you.”