Wayward Temptation (Wayward Saints MC Book 6) (6 page)

The way he looks at me, I know that he isn’t telling me the truth. I have a feeling he’s making it seem like he doesn’t like me, when in reality he does. Sleeping with Striker was a mistake. One that I’ve made countless times, but he never turns me away when I need him.

“You told me you needed to feel last night, and I’m sure Striker already took care of that for you this morning.” His voice is harsh, and I swear there is something more that he isn’t saying.
 

“You told me no, so I had no other choice,” I whisper. He shakes his head, pushes me off of his lap, and onto the bed.
 

“Trust me, you had a choice, and you made the one that benefited you. I’m sure you’ll be okay without my help,” he turns and walks out of the room without another word. I’m actually dumbfounded. I never expected those words to come out of his mouth, and although I know he’s telling me the truth, the rejection stings.
 

I’ve never been rejected before, and I think I understand what he meant. I didn’t get what I wanted from him. So I went to the one person I knew I could get what I wanted. I knew Striker wouldn’t turn me down, and I took advantage of it.
 

While I was in his room, he kept asking me about Raef, and he wanted to know the real reason I was staying in his room with him. I didn’t give him any information, and part of me is glad. Maybe Striker really did have something to do with the photo of me.
 

Lying on the bed, I start to remind myself that I don’t deserve either of them. My life has just been one fuck up after another, since the day I turned eighteen.
 

Closing my eyes, I try to not cry. Every time I think I’m making the one right choice, I fuck it up by making ten terrible ones.
 

Pulling the blankets over my head, I close my eyes, and try to forget what’s happening around me.

Waking up to the door shutting, I try not to move or make a sound. I know Raef is already mad at me for sleeping with Striker this morning, and I sure as hell don’t want to be on his bad side anymore. I hear him move around the room, but he doesn’t even acknowledge that I’m in here. Well, not that I’m letting him know. I’m still under the covers, and hiding anyways.
 

I hear his phone ring, and I listen to his side of the conversation. “Hey Brant, what did you find out for me?” His voice is gruff, and he sounds tired.
 

“Yeah, I think so,” he pauses again, and I try to peek out from under the covers to watch him. “No. No, asshole.” He runs his hand through his hair, as he listens to whatever this Brant guy is saying.

“Fuck you,” he laughs this time, and I think that it’s the first time I’ve actually heard him laugh. “Yeah, I’ll hopefully be home soon. I just have to deal with the supplier, and I should be good.” He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, and I wonder what he’s being told. “Naw, tell Anslie that shit ain’t happening to me. There isn’t anyone here worth it. You can keep your romantic bullshit to yourself. Or better yet, shove it up your ass,” he laughs, and he tells him that he’ll call him later.
 

Hearing his words hurt, but I guess I already knew that. He told me already this morning. I guess part of me was hoping that he would change his mind, and take me with him when he left, but I guess not.
 

“I know your listening,” he says, pulling the blankets back, and uncovering me.
 

“Where those words for me?” I ask, with a scowl.
 

“Nope, just stating facts.” He doesn’t even flinch with his answer, and I know that he really means what he said.

“Thanks,” I mutter to myself. He takes a seat next to me, and he goes to say something, but then stops himself. “Just say it. It’s not like you’ve held anything back from me before. Why stop now?”
 

“Even if I did say there was someone here that caught my eye, I sure as hell wouldn’t tell my sister. By the time I got home she would have planned my wedding, and named all my future kids.” His tone is casual, and I don’t know if I believe him or not.

“She would do that?” I ask. He nods, and I can’t tell what he means by that first statement. Does he have someone that caught his eye?

“But I don’t have any plans for anything while I’m here because sloppy seconds isn’t really my style.” That hurts. I didn’t expect it to hurt that bad, but at least I know he’s being honest. Looking down at my hands, I try to not let his words affect me.
 

He gets up, and walks back out of the room without looking back. Part of me feels like he’s saying these hurtful things on purpose, but the other part of me thinks I deserve it. Getting up, I don’t even bother sticking around. Making my way out of the room, I make my way into the bar area of the club, and sit on a stool and order a beer.
 

When the prospect or whatever he is, brings me one, I thank him and tell him to put it on Raef’s tab, as a big fuck you. He nods, but doesn’t say anything else.
 

I spend the next few hours drinking by myself, and by the time Raef comes back, I’m drunk and flirting with all of the brothers. I don’t even care anymore. This is the first time, in a long time, that I’ve done something I’ve wanted. Sure it probably isn’t the best idea, but I know that Striker is watching me from afar, and he won’t let anything happen to me.
 

I feel his presence behind me, and I just ignore him. I go back to flirting with Street, or was it Screech? Whatever, I really don’t care. “Damn girl, I don’t know how you’re related to Butch, but fuck. I have a bed you can sleep in if you need it.”
 

I put my hand on his shoulder, and lean in to sexily whisper in his ear, “You promissse to fuck me heard?” I slur. Nope, not sexy at all.
 

A hand grabs my wrist, and I’m being pulled into a hard body that smells like oil and leather. When I look up into his eyes, I can tell he’s pissed, but right now I don’t give a fuck. He looks over at Screech, no Street, and he gives him a death stare. “You fucking touch her and I’ll break your hands.” Before I can say anything, I’m being tossed over a shoulder.
 

I kick and scream, but it’s no use.
 

The walk doesn’t seem that long, but the alcohol is turning in my stomach, and before I can tell Raef I’m going to puke, I just puke. He stops walking, and I can hear him mutter under his breath. He lets me slide down his body, and I wipe my mouth with my hand. He looks at his back, and he pulls his shirt off. “I’m sorry.”
 

He doesn’t say anything, but judging by the look on his face, I can tell he really isn’t happy with me right now. He grabs my hand, and drags me the rest of the way to the room. Before we can make it inside, I bend over, and throw up again, until nothing else comes up. He holds my hair, and waits for me to finish, before he hands me his shirt to wipe off my mouth.
 

“Thank you,” I whisper.

He nods his head, and leads me inside. As soon as the door shuts, I’m expecting him to fly off the handle at me, but he doesn’t. Instead he leads me into the bathroom, and starts the shower.
 

Chapter Seven

Once I get a drunken Sailor into the bathroom, and get her naked, I tell her to sit on the toilet while I undress before she gets in. She nods, but doesn’t say anything. Her eyes never leave me, as I undo my jeans, and kick off my boots. I still can’t fucking believe that she puked on me. Putting my jeans in the same pile as my shirt, I grab her hand, and help her into the shower.
 

Getting in after her, I let her rinse her hair first, and I just watch her. My fucking God is she beautiful. She has the girl next-door look, and what I wouldn’t fucking do to be inside of her right now. When I walked into the clubhouse tonight, I had heard about her drinking, but I didn’t expect her to be that drunk. She was flirting with all of the brothers, and I could see Striker ready to fucking commit murder.
 

She doesn’t realize how he feels about her. I watched him for a few minutes, as she tried to sweet talk her way into someone else’s bed. The whole time he was gritting his teeth, and clenching and unclenching his fists. If I had to bet, I would say he loved her. Not that I blame him because fuck, her body is fucking perfect, and she doesn’t care what others think. She has a mind of her own, and will do anything to get what she needs.
 

I hate all the fucking bitches that just do as their told, and I can already see how this shit is going to end between us – one fucking disaster.
 

When she finally turns towards me, I can see that her eyes are red, and puffy. Grabbing her hips, I pull her body to mine, and she puts her cheek on my chest. I don’t even bother saying a word to her; she is already beating herself up over it.
 

Part of me thinks she does this for the attention like every other club whore with daddy issues, and the other part of me thinks that maybe this is the only way to feel for her. Maybe she has never had a relationship that meant anything to her. Not that my love life is anything to go by. I live the club, and I fuck random bitches all the time. I don’t expect anything from them, and I make sure they don’t expect anything from me.