“Who made ‘em?” Link asked, gracing us with his attention as he looked away from his phone.
From the smirk on his face, he’d been sexting. Only God knew about what. Link was unusual where sex was concerned, and that was being goddamn kind. We’d all heard the rumors, and I didn’t need confirmation. Even if he had a habit of oversharing when we were in the gym.
Rex grimaced. “That’s a long story.”
“I don’t need the fucking recipe,” Link mumbled, eyes lighting up at almost the same brightness as his phone which pinged with a notification. “Just a name.”
“That’s exactly it,” Rex retorted crisply. “We had some visitors last night. One of them made us the buns.”
My brow puckered at that as I figured out who was behind the baking. The twins had come with me to party, and I had no doubt they’d be gracing the porcelain God this morning, which meant… “Giulia made them? When the fuck did she have time to do that?” I knew she had to be exhausted after that trip, but not only that, from the shadows under her eyes—eyes I’d done my best to avoid during most of our interaction last night—it looked like she hadn’t been sleeping that well for a while. The idea of her jumping up and pulling a Stepford wife routine put me on edge.
No one did shit without a motive in mind.
What was her game?
Rex shrugged. “This morning. I think she’s trying to prove she can be useful.”
“Well, they’re a fucking wet dream,” Mav growled around a mouthful, his eyes bright sparkling dimes as he chowed down. “If she can bake like this, she’s more than fucking useful.”
“I’ll be sure to tell her she has your vote,” Rex said dryly, making me laugh into my coffee.
“Why does she think she has to be useful? She’s family,” I pointed out. “Not like we’re going to toss her out.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Link interjected, finally turning his phone screen down and giving us all his attention. “Who the fuck is Giulia?”
“Dog’s daughter,” I informed him. “She and his boys came in last night during the party. I took them to the bunks, told Rex about them, and that’s about as much as I know.”
Well, that and she was the spitting image of her dead mom. The woman I’d jerked off to more than once when I was a teen. Except, if I was being honest, Giulia was like a pimped up version of Lizzie. She had bigger tits, a smaller waist, and rounder hips. Her skin was that Italian olive that was close to gold, and her eyes were shielded by the thickest fucking lashes I’d ever seen. Cammie had those beetles she got stuck on the lids every month. Giulia was the opposite. Everything about her was natural, from her curves to her features, which had been makeup free last night. Her hair wasn’t dyed, and unlike her mom’s, it was longer, and it had a curl to it that made me think about wrapping it around my fist, which led to thoughts I had no right to be thinking. Not about Lizzie’s girl.
Rex rubbed his chin as he leaned farther against the side of his desk so he could cross his feet at the ankle. “Where the fuck are Storm and Steel? I’d prefer not to have to tell this twice.”
“I’m here! Sorry I’m late. Tink wanted to suck my cock, and who am I to disappoint a lady?” Storm came swirling in like the storm he fucking was. His grin was as wide as the Cheshire Cat’s, and he clapped me on the arm as I moved toward the table, jostling my coffee.
“Fuck off, man, some of us didn’t have enough time to get blown,” I grumbled at the pain in the ass who, as usual, was oblivious to the chaos he left in his wake.
Storm just started whistling, which irritated me even more. He fist-bumped Rex—even though he’d had to lift Rex’s fist to bump it—and grabbed a coffee, which he slurped halfway down, before topping it up and beaming another grin at us.
Motherfucker was just asking to be punched.
“Jesus, since when was Tink good at oral?” Steel complained as he shuffled in, squinting at the window. It didn’t surprise me when he headed over to it and closed the blinds.
When we were sitting in the semi-dark, almost everyone but him and me began to laugh.
“How the fuck are we supposed to discuss business in the goddamn dark?” Rex retorted, but he was amused too. That much was clear from his tone, as well as the fact he didn’t undo Steel’s work and left the room in a haze of shadows.
“Don’t care,” Steel grumbled, slumping over the table and dragging his arms over his head, “but fuck if my eyes are going to work in the light.”
Rex huffed but switched on his desk lamp. Always made me laugh when he did. Hard ass Prez of a biker with a fucking banker’s lamp of all things gracing his desk. The one with the gold stand and the green glass?
I shook my head at the sight, especially when he twisted it around so that Steel, who’d slouched against his chair, was in the spotlight. Rex just grinned at his groan, then tipped it back down so there was a golden glow in the middle of the floor.
“Now that we’re all here… Late is better than nothing, although you know I’ll fucking dock your goddamn cuts if it happens again—”
A chorus of “Yeah, yeah, yeah” sang at that. Not because we knew he wasn’t good for his word, but because sometimes, it was worth being goddamn docked. Even for me, this was way too early.
“We have some news.”
Steel peeped out of one eye. As the MC’s Secretary, he needed to keep his finger on the pulse—well, when his brain wasn’t full of vodka, the fucker’s drink of choice. “Of the good or bad variety?”
Rex shrugged. “Neither, really. Just information.”
“During the party last night, Dog’s kids showed up,” I announced to the table, keeping my eyes on my coffee just in case I revealed something I didn’t want to. I could be found in the dictionary under the definition of expressionless, but Lizzie and Giulia were a match made to fuck with me. It was like my past and present were combining into one explosive package, and I hated explosives.
They were Sin’s forte. Not mine.
Storm raised his brows as he sipped his coffee. “Dog’s and Lizzie’s, right?”
“Good memory,” I murmured. “She’s dead. Heart attack.”
“So they came home?” Link rubbed his chin. “Can’t blame them.”
“Why? Dog’s an asshole,” Storm said with a snort. “Even more useless a father than he is a brother.”
While he wasn’t totally wrong, I was compelled to defend the fuck just because he’d worked on my hog last month and it was now purring like a tiger. The run this past week had been bliss—and not just for the wet work I’d undertaken. “That’s not fair. Dog’s good at some stuff,” I argued.
“Yeah? Like what?” Link retorted.
When he looked like he was waiting for an answer, I just grumbled, “Grunt work. Someone has to do that kind of shit. Plus, he can tune up a bike better than some of the mechanics.” That last part I said tongue-in-cheek as Link was the best mechanic the MC had.
When he flipped me the bird, I just smirked.
Rex input, “He has you there, Link. Dog’s a fucking wizard with my hog,”