Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 40484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 40484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 202(@200wpm)___ 162(@250wpm)___ 135(@300wpm)
El engaged in a staring contest with Tooth, but he was an angry fox in front of a bear. Fighting head on would be a death wish.
“Fine,” he spat.
He’d do as told for a while, then pinch someone’s wallet and get back to his car by bus. No one would be telling him how to live his life.
Chapter 7 – Trig
El wasn’t taking things as well as Trig had hoped. He might be distrustful by nature, but in the dreams Trig had woven over the years, El never aggravated the other bikers, and quickly found a common language with everyone. In the most extensive fantasies, he even got drunk and took over the music duty, making everyone listen to his favorite punk rock band. The clubhouse would have turned into a mosh pit, and—
Who was Trig kidding here? It wasn’t happening. Despite being so pliant when it came to sex earlier, El was set on hating everything about the Coffin Nails MC, and it was up to Trig to make him see that the club could not only mean safety but also a community El needed no matter how adamantly he claimed it wasn’t so.
“You must be hungry,” Trig suggested as they left the office. The crowd had calmed down, and with the mic switched off, the air resonated with rock music and voices raised to talk over it. The air was dense with beer and sweat, though nothing choked Trig more effectively than the sweet perfume worn by some of those present. He held his breath when Blitz’s new flame ran past him in massive high heels, but once the floral fumes dispersed, he led El toward the yard, where the food was made during parties like this one.
“I could eat,” El said with a touch of reluctance, but he was already following the sausage-scented smoke.
El had always been very food-motivated, so maybe that could be another key to his heart, because Trig was sure he’d already pried the first lock open with a good fuck. Convincing El to stay could take a few days, but Trig was happy to give him time as long as the sneaky shit didn’t disappear on him.
Maybe a chunk of juicy meat with some bread and toppings would improve El’s mood?
“That’s Raja. He’s also gay and the president of the Coffin Nails MC chapter in Toledo,” Trig said, pointing out the handsome man with South Asian features and a thick black beard, who at that moment flipped a burger on a massive barbeque in the corner. Trig was eager to show El that nobody would discriminate against him based on his sexuality, but his ex’s sour expression didn’t lighten up, so Trig nodded at Hunter, who pushed his butt-long hair back and continued to tell Raja something with a smile dancing across his features.
“That’s Hunter. He’s married to Asty, and the son-in-law to our former prez—”
“You mean the guy who said I wasn’t up to your current standards,” El said, and the sharp blade of his tone momentarily rendered Trig speechless.
“I… he was out of line, okay? Why would you obsess about such an offhand comment?”
At least El did gravitate toward the food, his narrow face pinched in displeasure. Oh, how Trig wanted to kiss the side of that dumb head and feel the softness of the hair only peeking out from under the shaved skin. All in due time.
“Because you clearly have a reputation I know nothing about.” El’s expression changed to a smile as if he were now Dr. Jekyll. He held out his hand to Raja in greeting. “Hey, I’m El, Trig’s old buddy. I heard Trig’s a real dog around here. What’s his type? He won’t tell me!” He pushed at Trig’s arm as if this was a friendly joke, not a trap for Raja, who was too focused on the meat to notice Trig shaking his head violently.
“Oh yeah, he’s a real heartbreaker. This one time, a set of twins wanted to get him into a thruple. Freaky shit. He didn’t bite, but he did fuck them both. Separately.” Raja laughed, but his smile died a little when he turned to get a look at Trig through the savory vapors trembling above the grill.
“So be careful,” Hunter added, wiggling his brows. “He’s still hung up on his teen sweetheart, but who knows what you can do?” he said and reached for El’s face, pinching his cheek. “My old lady’s got dimple piercings too.”
El stiffened even as Raja proudly presented him with a hot dog so big and drenched in so much mustard it could only be a visual innuendo. Trig’s head was a pressure cooker, but while thinking on his feet was near-impossible around El, he still needed to communicate who his guest was to avoid further disaster. Because yes, El was the boy he’d never moved on from, and he was not ashamed of being constant in his feelings!