Kim’s brows lined in confusion. “Huh?”
“I think he’s fucking Cheyenne.” There. I’d said it. Knowing Kim, she would either deny it or confirm it. When it finally came down to it, I wasn’t sure I really wanted to hear the truth.
“Now, I know that ain’t happening.”
Jerking my chin up, I countered, “And just how can you be so sure?”
“Because I know Deacon.”
“Yeah, well, I know him, too. He’s always coming to bed late, after he thinks I’m asleep, and she’s hanging out here later and later.” Tears burned my eyes. “I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid I’m losing him.”
Pulling me into her arms, Kim patted my back, soothing my frayed nerves. “I think I have an idea.” She eased back to stare into my eyes. “You need to make Deacon see you as a sexual being again.”
“And how do I do that? Dress like a slutty skank like Cheyenne?” I countered.
A catlike grin curved on Kim’s lips. “While that might get his fires burning a little, you gotta make him explode. Nothing pisses off our clubmen more than when their brothers want a piece of their women and their women seem down with it.”
My brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“Tell me. You know how to play poker?”
An hour, five books, and one beer later, Willow finally gave up the ghost and went to sleep with Walter snoring like a fucking bear beside her. She could be such a stubborn little shit—something she had inherited from me. Gently, I eased off the bed. I didn’t dare do anything to wake her up, so I crept out of the bedroom on fucking tippy-toes. When I got to the door, I threw a final glance over my shoulder. Warmth filled my chest at the sight of Willow sleeping so peacefully with Walter by her side and that ratty angel doll in her hand.
After easing out into the hallway as best I could in my boots, I cracked the door behind me. When I got to the living room, I found Mama Beth alone. Craning my neck, I swept my gaze into the kitchen. “Where’s Alex?”
“Still up at the clubhouse.”
My brows shot up in surprise. After her attack, she very rarely wanted me to be out of her sight. Normally, a chick being all clingy was a turnoff. But I welcomed it from Alex, mainly because of what she had been through because of me. For the first time I could remember, her attention made me feel needed by someone other than my brothers. It was a hell of an ego trip, feeling like someone’s protector. More than anything, I enjoyed spending time with her doing the simplest of things. Sometimes I wondered if I had lost my mind. I’d never needed or wanted to be close with a woman since Lacey, and even being in love with her wasn’t the norm for me. I knew if I mentioned my feelings to Mama Beth, she would chalk it up to me being in love with Alex, and I wasn’t ready to hear that from someone else.
I couldn’t imagine why she would want to stay up at the clubhouse when I wasn’t there. Even if she knew I was coming back, she much preferred her evenings in the quietness of Mama Beth’s instead of the rowdy clubhouse. “Be back in a bit,” I said as I started for the door.
“Okay, son.”
I hurried up the pathway, anxious to check on Alex as well as maybe get in a hand or two of poker. I needed something to get my mind off sex. I was barely getting through the longest time without any fucking pussy in my entire adult life. Of course, it was my own damn stubbornness that led to it being me and my hand. Even after all she had been through, Alexandra constantly threw little hints at me that she was ready for us to go all the way. No matter how ready she seemed, I couldn’t bring myself to sleep with her. For fuck’s sake, she’d almost been raped, not to mention beaten and tortured. No matter if she was consenting, what kind of epic asshole would I be to screw her brains out when she was still healing physically and emotionally? Yeah, maybe the old me would have considered it, but the new me sure as hell wasn’t going to go there.
Not only did I have to contend with Alex, but Cheyenne seemed more than willing to ease my pain. Whenever I’d tried to avoid Alex’s come-ons by hanging out at the clubhouse, Cheyenne was thrusting her tits in my face or coming around the bar to rub herself up against me.
Basically, it was hell, pure and simple.
When I pulled open the back door, the ruckus coming from the front room met me with a deafening roar. I was glad to hear it since it meant the poker game was still in full force, and I could try to burn off some of my excess energy.
I slid behind the bar and grabbed another beer. After I popped the top, I took a long gulp. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alex seated at the round table, cards in hand and multicolored chips in front of her. Slowly, I lowered the bottle as I took in the rest of the guys and old ladies. Rage rocketed through me as I got an eyeful of tits and junk. My bottle crashed onto the floor as I stalked across the room to the table.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” I demanded.
Gazing up at me through her lashes, Alex shot me an innocent look. “Playing poker.”
I cocked my eyebrows at her. “I think you forgot one of your adjectives, Teach. You’re playing strip poker.”
Crazy Ace rose out of his chair, his nipple rings gleaming in the light. “And damn if she isn’t a hustler. We thought she’d be buck naked by the first hand, but she’s beating us all.”
Bishop, being a smug motherfucker, had the nerve to give me a knowing wink. “Yeah, but we got her this round.” Nudging Alex’s shoulder, he said, “You owe us one piece of clothing, babe. Take it off.”