Page 38 of Trick or Treat
Michelle stared at him a moment in silence. If she believed anything he’d just said, she’d never admit to it. She’d fall back into the same old pattern she always found herself in. She’d argue with him about anything and everything just for the sake of arguing. What did she think would happen if she actually agreed with him on something? The world would end?
After talking to Lindsey and dealing with Michelle, he’d like to say that he’d taken the high road and taken his time to cool down and think things through, but he didn’t. Instead, after he left Michelle, he thought fuck it. He went back to the club, found Nicole and fucked her until neither one of them could move. It wasn’t the same with the sweet butt as it had been before Lindsey came along. It didn’t matter. It might take a while, but he was determined to forget about Lindsey and all would be right in his world again.
He’d secretly hoped after the first week, Lindsey would cave and call and tell him she had changed her mind and wanted to see where things might lead. Although it was a risk to her job, she was willing to take it. Now it’d been nearly four weeks and still nothing. Fuck it. If she was moving on, so was he.
He didn’t know why Lindsey had been different, or why she’d gotten under his skin so much. After that first time they’d been together at the clubhouse, he’d been intrigued and thought he’d like to see her again. Then, as it always had a way of doing things, life got in the way.
When he discovered she was Keegan’s teacher, the flames of desire were once again stoked. Then running into her at her house on Halloween had felt like a sign. Somehow, he’d ended up at her house the next day and they’d pretty much been inseparable all weekend. It had been hard as hell to let her go, but he honored her wishes.
He mentally shook his head at his daydreaming. He needed to forget about her and move on. She’d ended things with him, not the other way around. What he needed to do right now was find him a sweet butt to drag up to a room and fuck her until he was too tired to do anything but fall into an exhausted sleep.
Trick zoned back into his surroundings about the time Race was pulling through the Horsemen’s gate and parking next to Chance. Trick, Race, Jackson and Jed piled out and caught up to the Horsemen president at the front door. He led them inside and straight to the bar where shots were already lined up and ready for a toast to be made to their deceased brother.
Chance turned to the crowd and whistled loudly to get everyone’s attention. He raised his glass in front of him in tribute. “Today we buried one of the finest pieces of the Horsemen’s history. Not only was he a founding member, he was also the oldest and the last. I for one will miss his wisdom and insights. Without men like Roundman, there would never have been a Black Horsemen club.” He paused as everyone voiced their agreements. “He and the founding fathers of this club had a dream. They wanted to live free, ride free and die free. Because of men like Roundman, we’ve shared in that dream. The best way to honor men like him is to live like there’s no tomorrow and today is all we have. To Roundman!” He raised his glass high before tossing it back.
“To Roundman!” went up all around the room.
Trick tossed back his shot and reached for another. He tossed that one back just as quickly, then took the bottle of beer one of the prospects behind the bar offered him. He followed behind Jackson and Race to a table toward the back.
Jed dropped into the seat next to him. “Shit. It’s fucking cold. I don’t think I’ll ever warm up.”
“Yeah, I know. I think my feet are frozen,” Trick commiserated.
A sweet butt sauntered over to their table, a tray filled with bottles of alcohol and highball glasses. She placed a bottle of whisky and some glasses on the table, treated Trick to a friendly, inviting smile, then moved to the next table to set them up as well. He tipped his head to the side and watched her ass sway by, her ass cheeks playing peek-a-boo from under her short schoolgirl skirt. Yep. That one would do nicely.
Trick helped himself to another shot. He could feel it work its way down his throat, through his chest and down to his stomach. Slowly, it branched out into his arms and legs. Here we go. Now he was really warming up. He debated reaching for another, but held back at Jackson’s questioning look.
“That’s Teresa,” Chance told him, having noticed Trick checking her out. Standing behind one of the empty chairs across the table from him, he added, “She’s very limber.” He pulled the chair out and took a seat.
Trick nodded his head, a smile splitting his face. “Good to know.” He didn’t remember seeing her the last time they were here. She was a pretty little thing. Maybe five and a half feet tall, average tits but a nice firm ass. In addition to wearing a red plaid short skirt, she wore a white button-down shirt she tied in a knot just under her breasts. He could clearly see she wasn’t wearing a bra and that her nipples were a pretty peach color. She wore her medium-length hair in a high ponytail and the one-inch-wide choker at her throat was sexy as fuck. He had to fidget in his seat to make room for his growing erection.
“You guys hungry? We’ve got some food in the kitchen if you’re interested.” Chance tipped his head to the left.
“Sure. Sounds good.” Race started to stand. “Come on, Trick. Let’s get something to eat.” He laughed and slapped him on the back. “I heard your stomach growl on the ride back from the cemetery.”
When he didn’t immediately acknowledge what Race said, the man went on, “Earth to Trick. You wanna get something to eat? Other than pussy for now?”
Trick laughed. The man knew him too well. “Yep. Let’s do it.” He got up and followed Race and the others to the kitchen where a line was already forming. The table was filled with assorted lunch meats, cheeses, chips, sides and desserts. Trick opted for a loaded roast beef and swiss sandwich, potato salad, macaroni salad and plain potato chips. He snagged a bottle of water out of a cooler at the end of the counter and followed the crowd back out to the main seating area.
For the most part everyone was quiet as they dug into their food. Halfway through his meal Jackson turned to ask, “You bringing the kids to Mom and Dad’s for Thanksgiving?”
“Yeah. They’re really excited.” Trick smiled before he took a drink of water.
“How long do you get them?” Jackson asked.
“I pick them up tomorrow after school and get to keep them until Saturday morning.” He got them for three whole days. Three whole days of not having to worry about whether or not Michelle was actually taking care of them. Truth be told, until Michelle’s sister Patty moved back to town, Trick never had to worry about his kids’ welfare. Michelle had been a good mom to Keegan and Reagan. Then Patty comes along and has Michelle thinking she’s twenty-one again, carefree and ready to party all the time. She suddenly forgot that she had two kids to raise. The only reason at this point she hadn’t given him the kids so she could relive her youth was because she’d be forced to get a job and he wouldn’t be footing the bill for every-fucking-thing.
He finished off his food, gathered up his and Jackson’s trash and threw it away in one of the large trashcans spread throughout the huge space. By the time he got back, Jed had pulled out the Sons newest blend of weed their boy genius had created.
“Teresa, why don’t you and some of the girls bring a round of beers?” Chance instructed as she was walking by.
“Sure thing, Chance.”
Teresa and four other girls brought their beer and passed them around. As she was placing one in front of Jackson, Trick reached out and pulled her down into his lap. “Take a load off, babe.” She smiled and bit into her bottom lip.
“That’s some good shit,” Deacon, Chance’s VP, held the smoke he’d just taken into his lungs, a huge smile on his face. He released his breath and passed the joint to his right. Chance accepted it and took a hit for himself. He too smiled and nodded his head. “Yep. Best you’ve brought with you so far.”
“Yeah. It’s damn good shit. Dillon’s worth every penny we pay him,” Race agreed, lighting up a new blunt to pass around.
