Total pages in book: 171
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 159500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 798(@200wpm)___ 638(@250wpm)___ 532(@300wpm)
I roll my eyes. Oh, so now Harvey’s gonna pretend he’s the voice of reason. But I don’t want to have internal feuds either, so I exhale and sit down. Because he is right. I’ve picked on Clyde for no good reason other than wanting his attention, putting my club at risk out of selfishness.
Fuck.
“You’re right. But Prophet was there to mitigate. Pretty sure it will all be forgotten.”
Especially after I nail Clyde tonight.
Unless he does want to kill me, but I guess I’ll find out later. Is my judgement clouded by lust? It’s not impossible. That’s what almost thirty years of pent-up tension does to you.
Harvey glances over my shoulder. “Prophet? Road says it was just a scuffle, should I be worried?”
My back breaks out in goosebumps. I trust my brothers, but I’ve learned the reflex to be wary of anyone appearing behind me without warning in childhood, and it’s never gone away.
Prophet narrows his eyes and shakes his head at me. “We’ll see, but I don’t think reigniting the tensions would serve either of the clubs. Turner withdrew after I talked to him, and didn’t bother to come back with his guys. You done here, Road?”
I bet someone called Prophet over after Harvey started making a scene.
“Can’t a man finish dinner in peace?” I groan, but Prophet gives me one of the level stares that don’t take no for an answer.
“I need to talk to you.”
Fucking magic words, I guess, so I get up with my plate. I shovel some more pork in my mouth on the way to the kitchen and leave my plate there, giving my potatoes a final glance.
“The guys aren’t happy,” Prophet says as we exit the building.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
Why would I risk the truce? And for what? A chance to get my dick sucked by a guy? I’ve had opportunities before. Flirted, messaged guys on anonymous chatrooms, but each and every time, without fault, I chickened out at the last moment.
How pathetic is that? I might be ready for date night, but if my previous experience is anything to go by, I’ll end up staying in and jerking off to memories of my call with Clyde rather than fucking him.
“I messed up.”
Prophet sighs and pushes back his long hair. He sports two braids today, and I’m left wondering which of the women fighting for his attention pleated them earlier. The gesture only reminds me of the blond locks I want to grab tonight. He seems to know where he’s going, even if his pace is leisurely, so I follow.
“I hope it’s not about that girl? If we end up at war with them again, it really can’t be over pussy, Road.”
Girl? What girl?
“No,” I say as we stride between the large communal buildings and pass the vegetable gardens.
Prophet smirks. “So, how’d it go? You were strangely serious about me proofreading a dumb pickup line.”
Oh. That girl.
I am not the greatest speller, and since the last thing I wanted was for Clyde to see mistakes in the name of the contact I left on his burner, I asked Prophet for help, as if it was something I planned to DM a woman.
“We’re... talking. We’ll see what happens when she’s back from her trip to the East Coast.” The lie rolls from my tongue so easily, and while Prophet will never know the truth, the fact that I’m hiding this from him burns in my chest.
Maybe I should give up now and spend the evening with my best friend rather than chase sex with a guy who is literally one of our enemies. Am I that blinded by a hot body that I’m ready to risk it all? Or maybe it’s the forbidden nature of who he is that’s turning me on? I may hate him, but I know him. He’s not some anonymous dick. Hearing him moan on the phone was more exciting than any porn, because I knew it was Clyde Turner.
Prophet smirks. “Okay, okay. Keep me posted. It’s been a while since I’ve seen you interested in anyone.”
Am I though? Am I interested? Or am I horny as fuck and looking for an easy lay? Hard to say, but Clyde is most definitely not easy anything. Drunk blowjobs from hangarounds are easy. They have their fun with a hot dick, I fantasize about guys while it happens, but since I’m technically doing it with a woman, no one suspects a thing. Dating one? That I can’t do.
Living as a gay man would have been so much easier in some big city, where I could reestablish myself without prejudice, but that would mean leaving a community that took me in when I needed it most. Here, I also get the paid work I’m skilled at. The Vulture Hollow MC will always have to come first.