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  “Ask me what I did today,” I say once she shows me to a table.

  Sydney wraps a stray hair behind her ear and I find myself getting hard. I remember the way her hair felt on my skin as she explored.

  “What did you do today?”

  “I played errand boy,” I say, running my finger up the seam of her jeans. “I drove from one place to another, dropping off messages and little packages. Stupid shit anyone can do.”

  “You’re not anyone,” she murmurs and my cock nearly tears through my jeans.

  “When do you get off?” I ask, hating how the words make me harder.

  “Four. I might get cut earlier if it’s slow.”

  “Call me and I’ll pick you up. I have plans for you tonight.”

  “Still calling dibs?” she asks, wrapping my messy hair behind my ear.

  “Fuck yeah. Is that a problem?” I snap, mostly angry that I have to ask.

  Sydney doesn’t flinch at my tone, but she’s bothered anyway. The humor in her eyes is replaced by uncertainty.

  After she takes my order, Sydney seems wary of me. I want to ditch her and leave until I remember all the black eyes Cal’s chicks sported over the years. A biker whore like Sydney has a reason to be nervous around a grumpy club guy. If I decide to kick her ass tonight, what can she do about it? Nothing besides clean herself up and wait for the next guy to show up.

  Calming down, I accept my situation sucks, but that hers sucks more.

  “I don’t know what I thought I’d be doing when I got out,” I say when she brings me a refill. “I figured I’d work on cars or Harleys or something. I have skills in that area, but they have me driving around town like a little bitch.”

  Sydney watches me with her big blue eyes and I think of all those guys in the club who enjoyed her body. Before I get pissed, I think of how I’m the only one who’s made her come. I believe her too. Sydney has no reason to lie and she isn’t a seductress. She doesn’t woo a guy with compliments. If she did, maybe she’d be someone’s favorite.

  “It’s not your fault the club screwed me again,” I say when she just stares.

  Sydney curls my hair behind my ear. Once again I’m the guy who made her laugh that morning, instead of the fucker who scares the shit out of her. My day feels like crap, but her laugh is a little reward I’m holding onto. No one thinks I’m funny.

  After eating and enjoying Sydney’s perfect service, I return to my job as errand boy. My afternoon consists of taking an envelope to the sheriff who hands me another envelope that I bring to Johnny. I drink a beer at the bar then I drop off a slip of paper to a guy running a bait shop. My final job involves delivering a cell phone to Snake’s newest girlfriend who looks about fourteen.

  I’m in a shit mood when I return to Chili’s to get Sydney. Pissed that a man like Snake goes from marrying a woman like my mom to banging strung out teenagers. The Grove is trashier than I remember. More drugs and booze than the younger Bo ever noticed. Everyone looks older and uglier. The town of my youth is officially a shithole.

  Sydney is standing outside the restaurant, talking with a guy when I arrive. She glances at me and smiles, but doesn’t immediately walk to the idling Harley. I watch her with the guy and notice a familiarity between them. He’s not a club guy. A lover maybe? Based on how her feet shuffle towards me, I know she’s finishing up the conversation. I decide to hurry her along by revving the engine.

  They frown at me then the guy shrugs and walks to his car while Sydney strolls over to me. I glare at her behind my sunglasses then realize she might not know I’m glaring. Once my glasses are sitting on my head and my eyes are fully in glare mode, I wait for Sydney to show a little concern.

  “Sexy,” she says, giving me a grin. “The guy on it is pretty hot too.”

  “Who’s the guy?”

  “My secret lover.”

  Sydney runs her fingers over the shiny black finish on the Harley. When she walks around it, I rev the engine and startle the smile off her face.

  “Oh, you’re being an asshole again,” she says. “Sorry, I’ll adjust to your new mood swing.”

  “Who’s the guy?”

  “Jealous?” she asks, wrapping my hair around my ear.

  “Are there any guys in town you haven’t fucked?”

  Sydney’s smile fades again. “Fine. You want me to go through the motions with you. Mission accomplished.”

  I take her arm and hold her still. “Are you fucking him?”

  “You’re more his type than I am.”

  Letting her go, I announce the obvious. “I’m in a bad mood.”

  “You hide it well,” she says, climbing on. “Are you taking me out to eat or dropping me off?”

  “Nothing’s changed. I want a steak dinner and I don’t want to eat it alone.”

  Sydney says nothing as she wraps her arms around my waist. I glance over my shoulder and she stares at me with a blank expression. Knowing she’s pissed, I don’t blame her. I’d be pissed too if I was her, but I can’t have her thinking shit about me.

  “I’m sorry,” I say, revving the engine to cover my words.

  “What?” she yells over my shoulder, fucking with me. “I couldn’t hear you. Did you say something about acting like a little baby and needing to learn to control your temper? Oh, I very much agree. Thanks for sharing.”

  Sydney leans forward until her cheek is next to mine. I frown at her, but she just kisses my cheek and settles back down.

  “Can I have steak too or is this a dinner where I watch and suffer?”

  “I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”

  Leaving Chili’s, I drive toward the center of town. Sydney rests her cheek against my back and I can almost feel her breathing. The heat from her body relaxes me and I don’t feel so edgy by the time we arrive at the restaurant.

  All smiles Sydney slides off the bike then pulls me down for a kiss. As her lips suck on mine, I climb off still attached to her mouth. My hands tease the bare skin between her jeans and shirt until Sydney pulls away.

  “Sorry your first day at work sucked.”

  “You have a very nice way of distracting me,” I say then squint at her. “Or maybe you just want a steak.”

  “Can’t it be both?”

  Grinning, I nudge her towards the restaurant. Once we’re seated and the waitress takes our drink order, I ask for a beer and order one for Sydney. I want to see her loosen up. Drunken chicks don’t hide their lies well and I want to know her secrets.

  “I’ll just have a root beer,” Sydney says.

  “No root. Just beer.”

  “I don’t drink.”

  Something about her expression feels like a challenge. I remember how Wendi played me with her smiles and promises. No doubt I was a fool for buying the lies, but she was still a bitch to peddle them.

  “Get a beer or you can buy your own dinner.”

  Sydney hears my tone and her face flushes bright red. The waitress looks embarrassed too. I don’t care. Sydney will never play me like Wendi did.

  “I’ll pay for my dinner then,” Sydney says, faking confidence as she turns to the waitress and orders her root beer.

  Despite her cool demeanor, I know she’s pissed. In fact, as soon as the waitress leaves, Sydney takes off to the restroom. When she returns, I can see she’s been crying.

  “Tears,” I grumble. “The tool bitches use to make guys feel guilty.”

  “I don’t care if you feel guilty,” she says, looking at the menu and not me.

  “Then why cry?”

  “You embarrassed me.”

  “Boo fucking hoo.”

  Sydney goes still. After a minute, she wipes her eyes and returns to checking out the menu.

  I feel like an asshole with her looking so fucking beautiful across the table from me. She smiled so easily when we arrived. I don’t know why I had to be a jerk when it’s not her fault my life sucks. She didn’t ruin it. She didn’t even know me until I’d destroyed everything.


  “Tell me why you don’t drink.”

  Sydney lifts her gaze and my stomach hurts. Her pretty eyes are empty of emotion. She’s gone now and I see why the guys don’t like fucking her. When Sydney goes through the motions, she’s no more than a blowup doll.

  “Addiction runs on both sides of my family.”

  “So you think one beer will make you a drunk?”

  “Why chance it?”

  “Why fear it though? Life is short.”

  “Not that short. What am I really missing to never drink a beer or smoke a joint? Am I really suffering to be watchful of my spending and avoid using food for comfort?”

  “Comfort?” I ask, frowning.

  “My mom used food to comfort her and overate as a result. She also shopped when she was depressed.”

  I consider asking about her mom, but the dinner has already turned to shit. No need to bring up a dead mom or some painful divorce that explains why she lives alone with her dad.

  The waitress drops off our drinks and I order spicy shrimp appetizers. Sydney returns to looking at the menu. She’s searching for something cheap because I’m an asshole that brought her somewhere expensive then told her to pay her own way.

  “Wendi screwed me,” I say softly. “I have issues with bitches twisting me up and conning me. I guess I worry you’ll do the same thing.”

  Sydney studies me. “Why would I?”

  “Why did Wendi act like a bitch?”

  After glancing around to make sure no one dangerous was listening, she leans towards me. “Her dad likely made her. How did she screw you?”

  “Conned me into taking the rap for her psycho brother. She made me think it would be an easy year long stretch for an assault charge. Then, I’d be made into the club and she’d be mine. All rainbows and puppies and shit except the guy died and I ended up doing six years.”

  “I heard before she married the VP from the other club that she ran off with a local guy. A house painter or something. Johnny sent his guys to bring her back. They did too, but the painter never came back.”

  “You’re defending her?” I balk. “She probably thinks you’re a cunt.”

  “I’m saying people do what they have to do when they have no power. She screwed you to make her dad happy. My story about the painter just shows what happens when she doesn’t make him happy. Wendi has more power than me, but she doesn’t have power. Not like Johnny. If anyone screwed you, it was him.”

  Taking a swig of beer, I study her. “So I should trust women because Wendi wasn’t the problem?”

  “No, you shouldn’t trust women because you are the problem. You have a weakness with women like my family does with addictions. If you know you have a problem, all you can do is stay on guard against temptation. For me, it’s against booze, drugs, gambling, and that stuff. For you, it’s women.”

  “So I shouldn’t trust you?”

  “No,” she says, sipping her soda. “I don’t trust you either. What’s the point of trusting anyone?”

  “True.”

  Seeing Sydney looking sad, I don’t know what’s worse. Her dead-eyed look or the unhappiness I see on her face now.

  “Maybe trusting isn’t such a good idea, but you’re a cool chick anyway.”

  Sydney stares blankly at me for nearly a minute then her eyes light up and she fans herself. “Oh, my, stop the compliments, sweet talker.”

  Grinning, I tap the menu. “Order what you want. I don’t care what you drink or eat.”

  “Lots of onions then,” she says, sharing my smile. “Garlic too. Yeah, I’ll go to town on that crap before we make out.”

  “After six years, you can eat cat shit before we make out and I won’t complain.”

  When Sydney laughs, the tension passes between us. She’s an easy girl to like and I wonder why no one else can get close.

  The appetizer is spicier than I expect. After all those years of bland prison food, I give up and Sydney finishes it. I wait for her to mock my inability to deal with the heat. Cal wouldn’t let me forget what a bitch I was being. Sydney just smiles and looks at me like I’m hotter than sin. All her smiling goes straight to my ego and I’m a cocky fuck by the time we get to her trailer.

  “Dad is home,” she says, glancing at a rundown white Oldsmobile parked nearby. “He’ll be in his room though. We’ll need to keep it down.”

  I press up against her as she unlocks the door. “Don’t worry about me. You’re the screamer.”

  Pushing her ass against me, Sydney laughs. “I’ll do what I can.”

  Minutes later, she’s stripped down and crawling around on the bed, making me fucking beg. I would be angry except her smile is too damn gentle. She’s playing with me, rather than being a bitch. I remind myself Sydney isn’t Wendi. Besides, I don’t need to trust her completely, just to have a good time.

  I shudder as she guides my cock inside her. Sydney smiles like she understands my need. Considering how wet her pussy is without much foreplay, I suspect she’s not faking anything.

  Sydney rides me slow and deep. With every thrust, her luscious tits bounce and I can’t keep my hands off them. I pinch her nipples and make her come twice. The second time brings me along with her. Staring up at her beautiful flushed face, I see nothing else. The world shrinks until it’s only her and me.

  Resting her head against my chest, Sydney sighs in the best way. I wrap my arms around her and think about the last few days. The only time I haven’t felt on edge was here in this shitty trailer with this woman.

  I hold her tightly until her pussy clenches around my cock and makes me too hard to ignore. Sydney sits up and studies me.

  “I don’t know how you make me come so much. You just lay there, looking hot. I can’t believe that works.”

  Grinning, I start to speak then she lifts her hips and tightens around me.

  “Don’t say anything to ruin the mood,” she whispers, giving me a little grin. “Silence is so sexy on you.”

  Smiling wider, I fill my hands with the soft flesh of her tits and pinch the nipples between my fingers. Sydney groans and I don’t think it’ll be long before she’s coming again. When she reaches between her legs and strokes not only her clit, but my balls, I know it won’t be long before I come too.

  An hour later, Sydney’s walking around naked while folding clothes. I watch her and think about how she told me I was one of only two guys to ever make her come. If she was anyone else, I’d assume she was lying to make me feel special. With Sydney, I know she’s for real.

  “Who was the other club guy to make you come?” I ask after she sits on the bed.

  Sydney grins as I crawl closer to take a lick at her nipple “No way am I telling you.”

  “You know I won’t blab. I hate those guys,” I say, smiling up at her as she shakes her head.

  “If I tell you, it’ll make your head even bigger.”

  “My head will explode if it gets any bigger, so you’ll have that to enjoy.”

  Sydney runs her fingers through my hair as I suck her nipple into my mouth. We stay like that for over a minute and I could have enjoyed those tits forever. Except I really want to know what club guy made her come. I don’t know why, but it’s eating at me like the guy is my competition and I need to kick his ass.

  “It’s Dale,” she says, teasing my nipples as I play with hers.

  My mind struggles to remember Dale. When I put it all together, I stare at her in horror. “Why?”

  “Don’t you think he’s sexy?” she asks, laughing behind her hand. “Is there anything sexier than a sixty year old with a teardrop tat and a Fu Manchu mustache?”

  “You’re fucking with me. Who was it really?”

  “It was Dale.”

  Sydney rests on her back and spreads her legs. “I’ll tell you why if you give me a prize.”

  “What kind of prize?” I grunt, immediately looking for a con.

  “You’re the first guy to go down on me. I’m a big fan.”

  Takin
g in the sight of her bare pussy, I lick my lips. “That’s it? Shit, I’ll do that for free.”

  “You like doing that?”

  “After six years in prison, I like doing everything.”

  Sydney grins then slides her fingers between her legs and spreads her lips. “It was Johnny who said I had to wax my pussy because he doesn’t like the natural look. Made him think of an old hag. After I got waxed, I was a little nervous it would feel weird touching myself.”

  My cock is already hard before she starts telling her story. Between her glistening pussy and the thought of Sydney touching herself, I need to adjust on the bed to give my erection more room to grow.

  “The only way I’ve ever come was to do it myself. That day, I was in the shower and I touched the bare tender skin. It felt soft and I got turned on. I was really enjoying myself when Dale showed up and finished the job by just existing.”

  I don’t say anything because I can only focus on her fingers sliding slowly over her clit. She’s wet from earlier, but I see how aroused she is telling her story.

  “You play with yourself a lot?” I ask, moving closer to nuzzle her tit.

  “Every day since I was twelve. It’s probably why I stayed a virgin so long. I never saw the need to worry about another person when I took care of business just fine on my own. Good thing I like it too. Can you imagine fucking all the time and never getting off? Man, if I didn’t masturbate, I’d be a ball of frustration.”

  “I’ll reward you later,” I say, crawling between her legs and licking at each nipple. “I’ll reward you until you beg me to stop, but I can’t wait any longer.”

  Reaching down, Sydney takes a drop of precum off the tip of my cock and swipes it over her tongue.

  “Can you keep a secret?” she whispers, lifting her hips to meet mine. “I think naked guys look funny. You’re the first one with an ass that didn’t make me giggle.”

  “Now who’s the poet?” I ask, opening her up with my cock.

  We fuck in the best way. Leisurely so that the pleasure of every thrust lingers and the orgasms are smooth like honey. Sydney smiles and giggles and moans and cries out my name. She’s so alive under me that I crave her approval. The chick makes me feel like a stud and loser with a single sigh.