Cash's Fight
Page 62

 Jamie Begley

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“Cash!” When she screamed his name as she came, he let his own control go, pumping inside her until his own release stormed her body.
He had every intention of keeping her by any means. Fair or foul, his little vixen was going to find herself trapped.
* * *
Rachel sneaked cautiously down the hallway. She really didn’t want to be confronted with another pair having sex. She had to work hard to keep the erotic images she had participated in herself that night from entering her mind.
She went down the steps quietly, she saw the club room was almost empty. Going to the front door, she was about to open it when she glanced back and saw Dean sitting on a large chair with his back to the door.
Cheryl approached him, sitting down on the arm of the chair and leaning over to glide her hand across his chest toward his thigh. She almost went out the door, not wanting to see her former pastor engage in sex with Cheryl.
Dean’s words had her pausing with her hand on the door.
“Stop, Cheryl. I’m going to save you the effort and tell you now: you won’t be getting my vote.”
“But… why? I can make you come.” Her suggestive voice lowered as her mouth bent toward his neck.
“No, you can’t.” Dean took Cheryl’s hands in his, moving them away from his body. “I’m not attracted to you, Cheryl. You’re not here for the men or sex. Payback against Jared isn’t going to be a good enough reason for me to believe you want to belong to The Last Riders.”
“I do, and I can prove it.” Cheryl slid off the arm of the chair, kneeling before Dean.
His casual air disappeared in a flash at her refusal to listen to him.
“I’m trying to be nice without having your ass thrown out of this club. I told you no.”
Rachel had never seen the expression on Dean’s face that she saw on his profile now. Goose bumps rose on her arms and even Cheryl’s blatant behavior died and fear replaced it when she saw his face.
She hastily rose to her feet, but she wasn’t fast enough to escape Dean’s hand that reached out. He grabbed her by the back of her neck, forcing her back to her knees in front of him.
“I’m not your pastor anymore, but I’m going to give you some guidance. When I say no, I mean No! Now, you can fuck any brother you want here—I don’t give a shit—but stay away from me. You got me?”
Frantically, Cheryl nodded her head. Dean released her and she shakily got to her feet before running to the front door where Rachel was frozen in place.
Rachel barely managed to open it before Cheryl flew through it. Rachel’s eyes met Dean’s before she went out the door behind her. Rachel followed Cheryl through the front door and down the dark steps, hoping that neither of them fell. Cheryl made it to her car and was opening the door when she saw Rachel.

“You saw?” she asked tearfully.
Rachel had been about to pass her without a word but stopped. “It was kinda hard to miss.”
“Did it make you happy?” Cheryl’s caustic question had Rachel wanting to smack her.
“I would have been a hell of a lot happier if that had been Cash’s answer, but it wasn’t, was it?”
Cheryl’s bravado disappeared.
“No, it wasn’t. I’m sorry, Rachel.” Cheryl ran her hand through her tumbled hair.
Rachel unwillingly felt the turmoil she was going through. Sometimes, her gift wasn’t a gift. She didn’t want to feel sorry for her.
“Cheryl, it was only last year that you were asking Dean’s spiritual guidance on why you weren’t getting pregnant. He probably felt wrong in taking advantage of your breakup.”
“Why are you trying to make me feel better? If Cash offered me another turn at him, I wouldn’t turn him down.”
At least she’s honest, Rachel thought.
“Not many would turn him down,” Rachel acknowledged. “Is that what you want for yourself, Cheryl? To be just another woman to those men?”
“Why not? That’s all I was to Jared.” Cheryl leaned against the side of her car, tears sliding down her cheeks.
“I don’t think so, Cheryl. He married you. He had affairs, but he always came home to you. He may have been an idiot, but to him, you were special.”
She wiped the tears away from her cheeks, staring at her hopefully. “You think so?”
“Yes, I do.”
“He’s pretty mad at me. He’s fighting the divorce,” Cheryl admitted.
“Make him pay for cheating on you, just don’t lose yourself in the process.”
Cheryl nodded her head before getting into her car.
“Need a ride?”
“Thanks.” Her and Cheryl would never be friends, but Rachel might as well get used to tolerating her presence just like the rest of the women at the club. Heaven help her, she knew it wasn’t going to be her last visit to the clubhouse.
 
 
Chapter 32
 
“What’s taking so long?” Mag’s impatience had Rachel hurrying to her side.
“I had to park the car,” she explained.
The whole town must be at the festival; she’d had to park at the end of the parking lot.
She took the handles of Mag’s wheelchair, pushing it along the busy street filled with townspeople and tourists. Rachel didn’t know why anyone would waste the time to come to the annual Arts and Crafts Festival, but it drew a huge crowd every year. She was finally able to make it to the church parking lot, which had been set up with different booths showing the artisans of the area and various foods. She pushed Mag to one of the tables.
“I’ll grab us something to eat.”
“Hurry up; I’m starving,” Mag demanded.
Rachel looked down into her tired eyes, realizing her blustering behavior was because she wasn’t feeling well.
“I’ll be right back,” she promised.
She found a booth, getting Mag a plate and drink before taking it back to her. Rachel wasn’t hungry, so she sat and talked to Mag as she ate, sipping on her iced tea.
“Hi, Rachel!” Rachel waved as Lily, with the rest of The Last Riders following, approached the table.
Cash took a seat next to her, his expression telling her he wasn’t happy with her leaving him during the night again.
“Hi, Lily.” She ignored Cash’s tight-lipped anger to greet her friend.
“You’re not eating?” Lily asked.
“I’m afraid to. There’s enough fatback in those dishes to take down a horse.” Rachel had managed to find a few things for Mag that weren’t swimming in grease.
“I’m starved. I’ll be back in a minute.” Lily left while the bikers remained clustered around the table.
“Exactly when did you sneak out?” Cash asked, breaking his silence.
“Around two. Don’t worry, I didn’t walk home; Cheryl gave me a ride.”
Cash didn’t look any happier with her answer. Rachel shrugged, not letting his injured masculine pride ruin her day.
Beth gave her a wink, listening to the conversation.
“You’re not hungry?” Rachel asked her.
“I’m with you. Thank God I’m not pregnant anymore and don’t get the cravings Lily does.”