The Night Horde SoCal: Fire And Dark Part 16

When she noticed that, she c.o.c.ked an eyebrow at him.

He sat up, grabbed her, rolled them over, and f.u.c.ked the absolute s.h.i.+t out of her.

They were lazing together after that, catching her breath, when Pilar said, "We didn't use a condom."

Connor rose up on an elbow and looked down at her. "d.a.m.n." She was right. He never forgot a condom, but he had this time. It hadn't even occurred to him. He should at least have noticed the different feel, but he'd missed that completely. It had been a raw, fast, hard, mindless f.u.c.k. f.u.c.k. f.u.c.k.

"It's cool, don't panic." she said, brus.h.i.+ng her fingers over the furrows in his brow. "I'll go by the pharmacy on my way home. But we should talk about health. Do you get tested? I do-it's a thing with my job, because we come in contact with bodily fluids. I'm clean. How about you? You've stuck your d.i.c.k all over town, so please tell me you get tested."

He felt defensive and insulted. "I always use a condom."

"Not always, you don't." Pilar pushed him back and sat up. "Jesus, Connor. Seriously? You don't get tested?"

"The girls here do. And I wrap up."

"You don't just f.u.c.k the 'girls here,' whatever that means, though. And we just now didn't use a condom. G.o.d! I can't believe I just gave you head!"

Now she really was insulting him. He got up off the bed and turned to glare down at her. "I'm not f.u.c.king dirty! This is the only time since the last time I had a serious thing that I haven't wrapped up. And it's not like I've been slamming every s.k.a.n.k in the Inland Empire. Jesus Christ!"

She stood up, too, and they stared at each other across the bed. They were both naked; Connor felt naked in more than just his body. What the h.e.l.l was happening here?

But then Pilar took a deep breath. "Okay. Okay, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be mean. I'm just freaking out a little now. I don't forget the condom."

"Like I said, neither do I." He gave her a wary look; he felt wary.

"Will you get tested? Please?"

"Will you get on some other kind of birth control? The Pill or something?"

"Yeah. That's a good idea." She smiled. "I wish I'd been paying more attention-I bet you felt amazing without the condom."

He was still mad, but he couldn't help it: he smiled, too. "How'd we miss that?"

Sweeping her hands down the length of her naked torso, over her firm t.i.ts, her sculpted belly, her tight hips, Pilar answered, "I guess you're just that hot for this bod."

Indeed he was, and his anger evaporated. He grabbed his stiffening c.o.c.k. "And you for this one."

They stared at each other, touching themselves, and the bed between them seemed to take on a magnetic pull. But then Pilar shook her head. "I can't go again. I need a break. Like food and water."

Laughing, Connor checked the clock on his dresser. "It's 10:30. There's probably breakfast out there. But there are probably still pa.s.sed-out bodies, too."

"If there's coffee and maybe a piece of bread, it'll feel like Thanksgiving." She tipped her head to the side and gave him a hooded look. "Then a shower after?"

"You're on. I'll scrub you up good."

Surprisingly, the Hall was fairly empty. Jesse and Tina were sleeping on a sofa in a mostly-naked heap, and Fargo was pa.s.sed out alone in a chair. Keanu, the most recent patch, was awake, playing a video game with the sound low. Empty bottles and full ashtrays lay everywhere, but for a Sat.u.r.day morning, it didn't look too bad.

Connor had noticed this happening: the Horde were settling down. Of fourteen patched members, six-Hoosier, Bart, Diaz, J.R., Muse, and Demon-had old ladies, and he hadn't known any of them to stray. Well, J.R. and Diaz made use of the run rule-what happened on a run stayed on the run-but that didn't count. Those men tended to leave most parties early and sober. And he guessed he was joining their ranks-though it was too soon to be sure. That cut the available Horde in half.

Pilar looked around as they came into the Hall, but she didn't seem more than vaguely curious. He turned and led her straight into the kitchen, where there was hot coffee, some kind of m.u.f.fins cooling in trays, and the sizzle of bacon frying.

His mother ran the clubhouse and the women on the roster. He'd never really bothered to understand how and why women were available to the members. He knew that there were women who were considered part of the club, 'on the roster,' as they called it, and he knew who they were, mainly because somebody always had some gossip when a new girl joined. They were fair game for the men. Most of them had jobs, but they had responsibilities here, too: in addition to putting out exclusively for the Horde, they cooked meals and cleaned the clubhouse, dorm and all. They weren't paid. They got club protection and a place to be, and that was it.

This morning, Marie, who was kind of his mother's a.s.sistant manager, and Sharon were in the kitchen. Sharon was a friend of Tina's, and she gave Pilar a nasty look. Connor stopped and stared at her until she met his eyes. Her look went from nasty to nervous, and then her eyes s.h.i.+fted away. Good.

"Hey, Connor," Marie said, looking over her shoulder from the stove. "Hungry?" She didn't address Pilar; she wouldn't unless Connor made it clear he wanted her to.

"Yeah. Smells great. Marie, this is Pilar." To Pilar he said, "Help yourself to breakfast, baby."

Marie and Sharon both stopped and gaped. Then Marie recovered and gave Pilar a smile. "Hi. We have a big vat of great coffee, the m.u.f.fins are fresh blueberry or cinnamon crinkle. And there's OJ in the fridge. Bacon's up if you like it floppy. Couple more minutes for crisp."

"Uh, thanks. Thanks." Pilar turned to Connor. He got the sense that she wasn't comfortable talking to the girls. "Coffee, I guess. Mugs?"

He squeezed her hand and let it go. "I'll hook you up. Grab a m.u.f.fin and have a seat." As he headed to the coffee pot, he nodded at the big island, one side of which was lined with stools.

While they ate and drank, not doing much talking, Trick came into the room, dressed in baggy track pants and nothing else. He rubbed his hand over the blond scruff on his head, which was growing out a little. Wouldn't be able to call him Velcro-head much longer. "Morning."

"Hey. You sleep here alone last night?"

"Nah. Just sent her home. She was trying us out last night."

"And you're the one gave her the tour?"

"f.u.c.k you, man. Chicks dig me."

"I can see that," Pilar interjected. "You've got the brainy-hot thing going. And a real nice ottermode look. And the ink and piercings are cool." Trick had a pierced ear and a pierced nipple, the freak. Pilar squinted, and Connor was about to protest that she was looking too f.u.c.king hard, but then she sat back. "Some of the ink looks like etchings from old books."

Trick grinned. "They are. Most people don't see that."

"They're cool. I'm Cordero, by the way."

"Cordero?"

"Last name. Most people I know use it."

Connor turned and looked hard at her. Should he have introduced her to the girls as Cordero? The name thing confused him. Even something small like what to call her was complicated.

Holding out his tattooed hand, Trick said, "Well, good to know you, Cordero. I'm Trick. I've seen you around, at The Deck." As they shook, he turned to Connor. "Will we be seeing her around here more?"

He fought to keep a stupid grin off his face. "Think so."

"Well, G.o.dd.a.m.n."

A few days later, Connor led Pilar into the Horde weight room. He'd made sure that the Hall was empty. Most of the guys were working one job or another, and he'd sent the Prospects off on a bulls.h.i.+t errand. He did not want an audience while this chick, his woman, with that body, got sweaty in tiny workout clothes.

Because all she wore to work out in were tight little shorts and one of those sport bra things.

After spending that Sat.u.r.day together, mainly f.u.c.king and resting, and an errand to CVS, they hadn't seen each other since. She'd worked two days, and the other two days, the Horde had been on a run to Oakland for La Zorra.

He'd used one of his days home alone to do what she'd asked-to get tested. Though he'd been sure he was fine, it had been a strange thing to wait even a day for the proof. Being tested pried open the door to a question he'd never bothered to consider before. But he was clean, as he'd known he would be.

And Pilar was going on the Pill. A few more days, and he would be paying better attention when he f.u.c.ked her naked.

Her job was yet another complication. Besides not seeing her enough, now that his d.i.c.k had a leash, all their talk about forgetting the condom, and emergency contraception, and the Pill had caused him to realize that a pregnant firefighter-h.e.l.l, a firefighter mom-was problematic. For him, at least.

Now that he was in, he was in. And if they did stick, he wanted kids. No way he was bringing that up yet, though. For now, he was just glad to have some time with her.

After he won this silly bet and proved to her that a strong woman was awesome, but a strong man was stronger, he was going to spend the rest of the day in bed with her, using up the rest of his condoms. Because he wouldn't see her again until she was, as he'd joked to her, childproofed.

He'd asked Trick to be in the weight room with them, because, according to Pilar, they needed an impartial witness. Like she didn't trust him. He felt like he should be insulted that she was so sure his best friend wouldn't be on his side, but she was right-he'd be impartial.

Pilar insisted on warming up, so he swung his arms around a few times while she went through a whole stretch routine. And then they were ready. "Ladies first."

"f.u.c.k that. You really think I'm dumb, don't you? Whoever goes first sets the mark. Going second is like home field advantage."

"Okay, then, I'll go first."

"No. It should be straight-up fair. I don't want you saying you let me win. We should flip. Trick, you got a quarter or something?"

Trick dug into his jeans pocket. "Yeah. Cordero, you call it."

"Tails."

He tossed the coin and caught it, then clapped it onto the back of his other hand. They all looked when he lifted his hand. Tails. "Connor, you're up first."

Connor jumped and grabbed the pull-up bar, and then he got started. They'd agreed on underhand style. He wasn't stupid, so he didn't show off. She was a c.o.c.ky little s.h.i.+t, and he was serious about showing her her limits. So he just did pull-ups, ignoring everything around him. To their credit, both Pilar and Trick stayed quiet.

Fifty was no big deal. He routinely did sixty when he worked out. He started feeling it at seventy-five. By ninety-five, his arms were on fire. He was pulling up two-hundred-twenty pounds of muscle. By one hundred, he was shaking and puffing.

Then Trick and Pilar both starting cheering him on. That p.i.s.sed him off, so he got some mileage out of it.

He hit failure at one-thirteen. And dropped like a rock to the floor. "f.u.c.k. Beat that, baby."

"d.a.m.n," she said. "I'm impressed."

He had trouble getting his arm up to get water to his mouth. "You concede?"

"I didn't say that. I'm just impressed." She stretched a couple more times and then jumped to the same bar.

He knew fifty barely broke a sweat for her, so while Trick counted, as he had for Connor, Connor sat on a bench and just relaxed and enjoyed the view of that amazing body, flexing with effort. In their relative positions, he could see her face, and it was nearly blank with concentration. She'd simply gone away.

At eighty-five, she looked exactly the same, and he started to worry a little.

Trick came over to him. "Eight-nine"-He leaned down and muttered, "d.a.m.n, bro. This woman is something." Then he stood back up-"Ninety."

Yeah. She really was.

She was past one hundred before she looked noticeably fatigued, and Connor knew he was screwed.

At a hundred and eight, she broke her rhythm and struggled to get it back, and he stood up, reclaiming the possibility that he'd win-and also kind of worried for her. Each pull-up after that, she struggled, her arms shaking, her face tense and red. And he found himself cheering her on, as she had him.

She hit one-fourteen and beat him. And then she hit one-fifteen. And one-sixteen. When she was still trying to drag herself up to one-seventeen, he went over and wrapped his arms around her thighs. "Enough already! You beat me. Point made. Now it's just sad."

She let go of the bar and sagged into his hold. "Ow."

His tired arms weren't exactly thrilled with holding her this way. Letting her slide down his body, he caught her again so she could wrap her legs around his waist. "Not everything has to be a compet.i.tion, baby."

"You're one to talk." She grinned. "But I win! And now you owe me karaoke."

Trick came over. "Wait. What? That's the wager? The Conman is singing karaoke? Oh, please tell me it's true."

"f.u.c.k you, a.s.shole," Connor snarled. He had almost a week before the stupid Karaoke Idol thing. Maybe he'd die before then. He could hope.

"Haha! That's brilliant. Cordero, you have restored my faith in humanity."

Connor ignored him. Setting a triumphant Pilar back on the floor, he bent down and kissed her, keeping it light, knowing she didn't much like an audience. "Come on, baby. We both need a hot shower." He considered sweeping her back into his arms and carrying her to his room, but just the thought made his muscles ache more.

And anyway, as much as she liked getting thrown around, she didn't like getting carried around.

So he took her hand. She linked her fingers with his, and they walked to his room together.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

"I hope you like steak. We're a steak and potato crowd around here." Bibi filled a gla.s.s with red wine from a box and handed it to Pilar.

"I eat anything, and this all looks delicious. Is there something I can do?" She was standing in the middle of Connor's mother's kitchen, and Bibi and Faith, who was a family friend or a relative or something, were both doing cooking things, moving around the kitchen in a rhythm that seemed well practiced. Faith's baby girl was sleeping in a swing off to the side. The men-Connor and Hoosier, his dad, and Demon, Faith's husband or old man or whatever, and their little boy, Tucker-were all in the back yard. Connor had introduced her, tripping over whether to call her Pilar or Cordero. He'd landed on Pilar, and she hadn't corrected him.

She had to get her head around why she was getting all weird about her name. Normally, when she first met someone, she introduced herself as Pilar. Like a normal person. Her friends were the only ones who called her Cordero. But since she'd decided she'd wanted Connor to call her Cordero, and then wanted him to call her Pilar again-which was odd as h.e.l.l, she knew that-the use of her given name felt more intimate. She was developing a complex about it.

She wasn't going to figure all that out here and now, though. So she hadn't fussed when he'd introduced her as Pilar, even though it made her twitch inexplicably. And then he'd grabbed a beer and abandoned her to the women.

This was not a situation she was comfortable with. She got along better with men; she always had. Most women found her hard and b.i.t.c.hy, and she found most women vain and insipid. In her heart of hearts, she liked girly stuff, sparkly things and pretty clothes, but there was only so long she could talk about shoes.

She looking longingly out the French doors to the patio, where the men were sitting, drinking, talking, and grilling. Tucker sat on the patio amidst their feet, rolling cars over the stonework.

She was at Connor's parents' house for Sunday dinner. Barely more than a week since they'd decided to be serious. Pilar's head spun thinking about the change in him. Once he'd decided they were trying this, he was immediately and fully serious. He'd even said as much: If I'm in, I'm in.