Smoke and Steel (Wild West MC #2)(6)



Then again, it’d be more surprising she’d let a rough-trade biker into her bed.

Of course, Tack, Hop and High of the Chaos MC all had old ladies who wore tight skirts, stylin’ blouses, high heels and carried those expensive purses.

But Core wasn’t a high-maintenance-woman type of man.

That said, if the woman he was watching, Hellen Moynihan, Jagger’s sister-in-law wasn’t thirteen years younger than him, and if she gave him an opening, he wouldn’t hesitate to give her a pop.

The way she worked that ass and the attitude that slithered off her wrapped around your dick and gave it a tug, he’d give her more than one.

All of these thoughts flashed through his mind, and then he was taking his boots off the sill, straightening in his chair, setting aside the Doritos and reaching for the binoculars.

He trained them on Pretty Boy and let out a low whistle.

After that, he chuckled.

Enjoying the show, Core kept his binocs on a very unhappy PB who was shoving a box, which looked like it was filled to overflowing with his stuff, into the trunk of his shitty sedan.

Core didn’t know the story of that guy. He only knew he was twenty-nine, an attorney at some bigshot firm downtown, and he wasn’t the focus of why Core’s ass was right there.

He had no idea why Pretty Boy, who had to make big bucks, drove such a shit car.

Core just knew that she’d scraped him off.

He could have called it (that said, it was about time).

Woman like that wouldn’t put up with a man who had his head up his ass, seeing as she’d expect her man to spend all his time kissing hers.

Still, it amused him to watch his walk of shame.

When he motored off in his crappy car, Core trained his binocs on her pad.

Lights on, probably going about her business, doing shit to her face and nails, preparing to lay waste to another man who she’d lead around by his dick.

Core might enjoy the novelty of that, if he had the shot of seeing her bowed before him, ass in his hands, taking his cock.

But he reckoned it’d get old fast.

He set the binoculars aside, sat back, grabbed his chips and scanned the street.

There was no sign of her.

That being, no sign of the woman who he was sitting right there, keeping an eye out for her to slither into town and make trouble for Hellen, or her mom, stepdad and sister. Like there hadn’t been any sign of her for two weeks, even though they got word she was heading up from Phoenix.

He was beginning to wonder if the bitch they were looking for was even in Denver.

Nevertheless, he munched and kept his eye out, not knowing, soon, they’d all find out she very much was.





2





LIGHTNING BOLT





Hellen





“You’re a man hater.”

“Oh my God,” Kyra muttered, her eyes going round.

Marcy pursed her lips in irritation.

I stared at Bree, who needed a reality check, and her girls, including me, were in the process of giving her one.

She just didn’t want it.

And for some reason, in order to share that, she homed in on me.

“It’s because your dad is such a jerk,” she went on. “Now you hate all men. And we all have to suffer for it.”

Okay, I’d been going softly-softly up to this point, we all had. Dancing around her feelings. Trying to get her to take a look at what was happening and come to the realization her boyfriend of only a few months was exhibiting signs he was a chronic user, because he was definitely using her.

It was important to note, my friend Bree wasn’t stupid. She was buying his shit because he was gorgeous and talked a good game (even I, in the beginning, though he was very charming and ridiculously pretty, had thought he might be the real deal because he seemed genuinely into her, and I could understand that because she was my friend—but now, I didn’t think that).

But her being bitchy because I loved her and was worried some guy was no good for her, I wasn’t feeling it.

I also wasn’t feeling like being singled out.

Which, of course, with me being me, meant it was time for me to lay it out.

“I don’t hate all men,” I replied. “I just hate predatory assholes like Christos.”

“And what if I said something like that about Bryan?” she retorted hotly. “Oh wait. There is no Bryan. He didn’t live up to your impossible standards so he’s out.”

I actually felt the tip of that arrow pierce my heart.

“Ouch,” I whispered.

“Oh my God,” Kyra repeated.

Marcy chimed in this time too. “You know that isn’t right.”

Bree looked contrite, but she didn’t back down.

“Did she dump Bryan?” she asked the group. “Yes, she did,” she answered before anyone could do it.

“And you were sitting right here a week ago with the rest of us, listening to her litany of woes about him, and agreeing, like we all did, that if he perpetuated some new thoughtless bullshit, he needed to sort his shit or take a hike,” Marcy fired back. “And three days ago, after his buds coming over meant she had to head to the store for upholstery cleaner, she asked him to take a hike.”

“Yeah, well if I had an issue with Christos…which I don’t…then I’d expect you all to agree with me and take my back. But again, I don’t have an issue with Christos. In fact, we’re great.” She did the thing with her nose that she did when she was being rebellious, something that was a big thing for her since, for the most part, she was a people pleaser. “He told me he’s falling in love with me, and I’m thrilled he did, because I’m falling in love with him too.”

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