“Ewwwww …”
“That is the least sexy thing I’ve ever heard anyone say about sex,” Maggs announced. “For the first time in two years, I’m kind of glad Bolt’s in jail, because there’s no damned way I’d touch his cock tonight after that.”
“I call it like I see it,” Kimber declared. “Now, let’s figure out the best way for Sophie to start screwing Ruger without letting him think he’s won.”
“Kimber,” I growled, lunging toward her. I bumped the pitcher of huckleberry margaritas instead, which splashed across the table, dousing Maggs, Dancer, and Marie with sticky, sugary, boozey deliciousness.
Everyone burst out laughing again, and this time Dancer actually did fall off her chair, which made it even funnier.
“That’s what you get for making fun of my historical analogies!” Kimber howled at us gleefully. “I am the QUEEN. You do what I tell you, bitches!”
“You’re crazy,” I announced, dipping a finger into the puddle on the table and tasting it. Sooo good. What a waste. “But you’re right about one thing. I may be a petty, selfish person, but I don’t want him to win. He always wins. I think you might be right about popping the zit, though.”
“This is an important discussion,” Maggs said solemnly, holding up a hand to halt us. “And as the senior old ladies present, Dancer and I will moderate it as soon as we get changed. Is it okay if we dig through your closet?”
“Sure,” I said. “Here, let me come help you find something.”
“No worries,” Dancer said, giggling. “We’ll find it. We know our way around the apartment already.”
I smiled at her happily.
“Thanks again,” I told them all. “I can’t tell you how amazing it was to come here and find everything all fixed up. Noah loves his room, too.”
“It’s what we do,” Maggs said. Marie grinned at me, then shivered, rubbing her arms up and down.
“This stuff is cold. Let’s get changed,” she said, and the three women took off down the outside stairs.
“I’m going to get some hot water to pour over this mess,” I said, contemplating the Great Margarita Lake. “There’s got to be something we can use in the kitchen.”
We trooped into the house, and I rummaged through Ruger’s kitchen cupboards until I found two big mixing bowls, which we used to pour hot water over the table. Then we flopped back in the chairs and Kimber made herself useful for once, asking the question that’d been eating at me all night.
“So, you really a virgin?”
“Mostly,” Em said, rolling her eyes.
“Oooh, mostly,” Kimber said, leaning forward, practically quivering with curiosity. “We’ll get back to that in a minute. Now tell me what’s up with the V-card. How old are you, anyway?”
“I’m twenty-two,” Em said. She didn’t seem to mind the questions at all. Kimber wasn’t the only one with boundary issues. “And I’m a virgin because I haven’t wanted to just do it with some random guy to get it over with. But every non-random guy I meet is scared of my dad. To be fair, he really is scary. My sister stands up to him, but it seems like I never can. Now I’m stuck at home, while she’s loving life in Olympia. She’s my little sister—still can’t figure out how that happened.”
“Have you always lived at home?” Kimber asked, her eyes wide with something like horror. “No wonder you’re a virgin!”
“No, I lived in Seattle for my first semester of college,” Em explained. “But I didn’t really know what I wanted to be, and as soon as word about my dad got out, the guys stayed away from me. Didn’t help that he showed up at my dorm one day and made a public announcement that any guy who tried to get me naked would lose his dick.”
“Holy shit,” I muttered, eyes wide. Kimber swallowed.
“That’s hard-core,” she admitted.
Em rolled her eyes and threw up her hands in disgust.
“That’s my dad. Mom used to keep him under control, but she’s been gone for a while now. He’s the club president, so it’s not like there’s anyone to stand up to him.”
“What about this Painter guy?” I asked. Em groaned and dropped her head to the table, banging it dramatically.
“Painter,” she said. “Painter is a pain in my ass. He was a Reapers prospect until a few months ago. Got his patch now. He seems to like me, he’s flirted with me, and he’ll scare off other guys who come around me, yet when I tried to jump his bones in the dark he ran away like a fucking chicken. Every. Single. Time.”
Kimber shook her head knowingly.
“Yup, scared of daddy,” she said. “Lost cause, babe. You need to find someone else.”
“Yeah, I know,” Em said, her voice wistful. “I could kind of understand it back when he was a prospect, so I cut him some slack. Prospecting’s hard work. But he’s got his colors now. He needed to put up or shut up, so that’s over.”
“Damned straight,” Kimber said, banging her fist down on the deck table. The whole thing rattled and we all jumped a little. “Let’s go to Spokane next weekend, the three of us. The way I see it, Maggs, Marie, and Dancer have to rat you out, because they’re part of the club. But me and Sophie? We’re free agents. Let’s get your card punched with someone disposable, and then work on finding you a man who’s not a fucking pussy. This Painter guy is full of shit.”
“Actually, I’ve been talking to someone online,” Em admitted, flushing a little. “I really like him. A lot. We’ve been chatting for a couple months, but we just started calling each other sometimes. I’m pretty into him, but I kept hoping Painter—”
“Screw Painter,” Kimber declared. “He’s not a real man. Maybe your online guy isn’t either, but we’ve got your back. See if he’s available next week, let’s get this thing done. We’ll meet up in a public place. Get our own hotel rooms, so we can make sure you’re safe.”
Em’s eyes grew bright. The whole idea seemed sort of half-cocked to me, and I frowned.
“Okay …” she said. “Wow, I can’t believe we’re going to do this. But what about Sophie? I don’t think Ruger would want her going out like that.”
Suddenly I didn’t care how stupid it sounded. Ruger wasn’t in charge. Fuck him. Nothing quite like flaming shots to give a girl courage.
“I’m in,” I declared. “He doesn’t tell me what to do.”
“Seriously?” Em asked, peering at me in the darkness. “We’d really just go out and do this?”
“Why not? Ruger’s not my boss. And Kimber needs to get out sometimes, too. We’ll check this guy out and make a call for you about whether he’s worthy. There’s always more guys if he’s not. Trust me, if Kimber can’t find you a man, he doesn’t exist. She’s like a sexual bloodhound. Always has been.”
“Damned straight,” Kimber said without a trace of embarrassment. “I’ll ask Ryan if he can watch Noah for you, Soph. He owes me. He gets to play poker every single week, and when I was pregnant I told him that if I was sober, he should be sober, too. He totally ignored me. Also, he bought me a minivan. A fucking minivan. What kind of man does that to a woman?”
I started giggling. Em joined me, and then all three of us were laughing, and I’m still not entirely sure why. We were still cackling like drunken hyenas when Marie, Dancer, and Maggs got back. They looked funny in my clothes, particularly Dancer, who was way too tall and more than a little too curvy. She’d found some yoga pants and an old T-shirt, both of which were extremely tight in critical areas.
“Bam is going to love this,” she said, twirling for us and shaking her ass dramatically. “If he’s home tonight. Anyone know the schedule?”
“Party tonight for the brothers coming in,” Marie said. “Guess some kind of big club meeting is going down? Horse will be here in about an hour to give us rides home. Me and Maggs are throwing together breakfast tomorrow, if anyone wants to help. They’ve already lined up a pig to roast for the afternoon, so all we need to worry about is snacks and sides.”