Cowboy Bikers MC #1 - Esther E. Schmidt Page 0,3
shoves her ass in the air for a raunchy fuck when and however she can get it. All while thinking she’s a top dog even though her father gets paid by working for us—running the junkyard—and those shiny boots she’s wearing are bought with said cash.
“What’s wrong, bitch?” Trixy hisses. “Still crying over your daddy? It should have been you, you’re such a fuck up.”
I have no clue what she means by that but I’m about to step in between them, and yet I don’t have to. The vet steps forward, kicking the manure—so it lands on Trixy’s shiny boots—and says, “Oh, I’m well aware it should have been me, Trixy. But you know what? Life sucks. And you of all people should know because all you do is suck. Cock that is. Now go find another one to latch on and stop bugging me.”
Trixy is like a fish gasping for air but the vet is already heading for her SUV. All while my brothers are laughing their asses off. I quickly rush toward her and manage to lean on the open window.
“What was the whole ‘it should have been me’ about?” I question, when all I want is to ask her a truckload of other stuff like, “wanna have some fun in the hay?” or “can I lick your pussy until you scream my name?” yeah, mainly that last one.
“It was about what happened last week,” she says, her voice sounding mechanic, as if she’s miles away and functioning on autopilot.
“Hey,” I whisper and cup her face.
The instant our skin collides, there’s a spark of electricity highlighting our connection.
Ignoring the spark, I gently turn her face toward me so I can lock those gorgeous baby blues with mine. “I’ve been out on a run for about a week. We just came back about an hour ago. What happened last week that I don’t know about?”
She closes her eyes and leans into my touch. It’s as if she wraps her fingers around my heart to give it a tight squeeze when she says, “My father and brother died.”
Her tormented gaze hits me and she adds, “I have to go.”
“Yeah, you do,” I tell her and let my thumb caress her cheek before I pull my hand away and let her drive off.
“Good riddance,” Trixy huffs.
Anger surges hot through me. I might indulge myself in some meaningless pussy from time to time, but what I don’t need is a brainless bitch intentionally hurting others. Even more when it’s a direct hit to a relative that fucking died a few fucking days ago.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, bitch?” I snarl. “She’s grieving and you’re rubbing that shit in? Get the fuck out of my sight.”
She has the nerve to pout and whines, “But West, she’s the one who is a bitch. She’s always bothering me and the last time she stole a shirt I really wanted to buy because it was the only color that would go with my leather skirt and I wanted to look nice for you.”
My eyes hit the Texas sky and I take a breath to get a handle on my anger.
“There you go again,” I tell her with a tight and controlled voice. “Insinuating shit. She didn’t steal a shirt. I’m betting she bought it before you even so much as got near it. Then you saw it and wanted it. It’s always like that with you. And stop calling me West. It’s Weston and you fucking know it. But it doesn’t matter since I’m fed up with your shit. I don’t want to see you here on my ranch, got it? Now get the hell off my property and don’t think you can come around here again because I will throw you in a pile of manure to bring you down a few notches, ’cause God knows you are a pro at making people feel like shit.”
She narrows her eyes and is about to snap at me, but Alfie steps forward and grabs her arm. “You heard the man, you’re done.”
“But Alfie,” she whines and I know she’s going to complain to him because she always tries to jump his cock whenever she doesn’t get any interest from me.
Dismissing her without a single thought, I step closer to Roper, my VP. “How’d it go? Did we lose the heifer?”
“The vet did great, you should have seen her with a lasso. I mean, when her dad did that shit, or her brother.” He shakes his