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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.  
    She finally looks up at me when the water goes cold, and I see the regret flash across her face. Her wet body being pressed against mine, makes me wish that I didn’t decide against fucking her. Every curve matches my body flawlessly, and now I’m going to be fucking hard again with no relief.  
    Reaching around her to shut the water off, I open the door, and help her out. She doesn’t move very far from me, and it’s like she’s clinging to me as her lifeline. Grabbing a towel, I quickly dry her off,