Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35499 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35499 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
Savannah leans against me, swaying to some sad country song Butch put on the jukebox. Her eyes keep closing, then snapping open like she's afraid she might miss somethin'.
"You're falling asleep standing up," I tell her, my hand at the small of her back.
"M'not," she mumbles, but her head drops against my chest.
I look around the room. Most of the patched members have filtered in over the last few hours. Roach is at the bar arguing with Ledger over something to do with supply lines. Havoc plays cards with Butch and two prospects in the corner. Diesel's passed out on the leather couch, his feet still planted on the floor. Chains is drawing on the arm of some hangaround who's too drunk to notice.
Brick sits alone at a table near the door, nursing the same whiskey he's had for two hours. Watching. Always watching.
I don't trust leaving the room. Not with the vote comin’. But Savannah's dead on her feet, and I need her rested before whatever comes next.
"Let's get you upstairs," I say, pulling her closer as we sway. Not because I like dancing—I fucking hate it—but because she needs the support to stay upright.
"We should stay," she says, but there's no fight in it. "What if they vote while we're gone?"
"Church isn't till dawn. Women don't get a vote anyway. You won't have anything to do with this vote." I rest my chin on top of her head. "You need sleep."
She doesn't argue. Just nods against my chest, her fingers curled into my cut.
I guide her toward the stairs, one arm around her waist. A few heads turn to watch us go, but no one says anything. That's good. Silence means acceptance—or at least tolerance.
The bunkhouse is down a narrow hallway above the main floor. Ten rooms, most empty tonight since everyone's downstairs waitin’ for church. I take her to my room, lead her inside, then close and lock the door behind us. Not that it would stop anyone who really wanted in, but it's a sign.
Savannah stands in the middle of the room, swayin’ slightly. I strip off the borrowed clothes—my clothes—and take a moment to admire Chains' work across her tits. PROPERTY OF DEMON. The letters are perfect, flowing with the curve of her body. Not just scrawled words, but art. He's got that tattoo style down, even with a Sharpie.
Demon. My club name sits strange in my mouth, even now. When a man is named Legion at birth and joins an outlaw club, you'd think it would be enough. But everyone gets a name to keep up the pretenses that the world still offers privacy.
Savannah got named tonight too. Not Mine. Brick's way of marking her as off-limits to everyone but me. She knows what it means.
She didn't speak to a single person tonight other than me. Didn't try to charm her way in. She just let me claim her, claimed me back, and somehow that was enough.
I'm pretty sure the vote will go our way.
Pretty sure. But nothing's guaranteed in club life.
I lead her to the small bathroom attached to the room. I feel like that shower we took at the trailer wasn’t enough. Especially after a long night standing in smoke and whiskey fumes. This shower's barely big enough for one, but we make it work. Hot water hits us both, washing away a little bit more of the evil we just went through.
Savannah wakes up a little under the spray, blinkin’ up at me through wet lashes.
She looks down at her chest, at the letters that will not wash off—not today, at least. "I like it," she says. Smiling as her hand slips between my legs, finding me already half-hard just from having her naked and wet against me.
Her fingers curl around my cock, stroking slow and deliberate.
"Again?" I ask, surprised she's got the energy.
"Again," she confirms, her thumb circling the head.
I lean back against the tiled wall, letting her work me as she kisses her way down my chest and ends up on her knees.
Savannah has had my cock in her mouth many times over the years. But never like tonight. We've actually never spent this much time together. Not all at once.
I fist her hair, moving my hips forward a little so I can feel the muscles of her throat tighten around me, mimicking the way her pussy does it, as I think about earlier.
Her on her knees in front of me, with the whole club watching as she took me in her mouth.
Her on my lap, riding me slow and deep, her submission invading the silence as she rode me, telling them all who she belongs to.
As far as claimings go, I figure mine went pretty perfect.
One day, hopefully today, I'll get a chance to ask her about how she felt about that. What she liked about it, what she didn't. What she might want to do again.