Tank: Devil's Rose MC #6

Chapter 21: Hazel Martinez

"Octavius, hi," I squeak into the phone.

"You good?"

"Yep."

"Hazel, what's going on?"

"Nothing."

"Hazel," his voice is deeper, stern. And that's not helping my situation.

"Alright, well, I'm kind of in the middle of something."

He breathes out heavily as if he knows what's happening.

"Does it feel good, Hazel, when you fuck yourself thinking about me?"

Oh god. The guttural moan that exits my mouth while I push the vibrator deeper inside me echoes through my bedroom.

I got home from a busy day, saw the bed that Octavius fucked me on last night, and I literally could not help myself.

"Just like that, my good girl. Fuck yourself deeper. You can take it."

"Octavius."

He growls through the phone, and that's the end of me. My orgasm rushes over my body, my vagina running with my arousal, my clit throbbing with the release sensation. My mind goes blank as I soak in the high and gently pull the vibrator out of me. My muscles are relaxed and just for a moment, I feel completely in bliss. 

Goodness, I want Octavius here with me.

"My precious girl. Don't fall asleep yet. You have to go clean yourself up."

"But-"

"Go on. Don't hang up the phone."

I do as he says, knowing that he's right.

Once I have finished cleaning myself in the bathroom, I flop back onto my bed, humming at the softness of my covers.

"Are you wanting to stay in for the night?"

"Maybe. I just need a nap."

"There's an MC thing going on tonight that I forgot to invite you to. If you want to go."

"I'm allowed to go? I'm not part of the club or anything though."

"I'm the VP of the club, pumpkin. I can invite whoever I want, and I want you to come."

I thought I just did. Anyway.

"Yeah, I'll go. What should I wear?"

"Dressier than normal but nothing over the top. Jeans and a blazer type of look but be comfortable. Don't look like you're going to a business meeting."

"Got it. Do I need to bring anything?"

"Nope. I'll pick you up at 6."

"Are you sure I don't need to bring anything?"

"A short list of things you want for Christmas, but besides that, nothing."

"What?"

"See you in two hours."

He hangs up the phone, not helping me solve my confusion.

When I roll out of bed an hour later, I stare at the clothes in my closet for a least twenty minutes trying to decipher what the hell Octavius was talking about. I did say that I 'got it,' but I'm a liar when it comes to that. I wasn't about to ask him what the hell he wanted from me. A blazer and jeans but comfortable. 

What the fucking hell does that mean? I swear, I'm going to have to pick my outfit by intuition and hope for the best. I have a feeling that no one in the MC is going to care about what I decide to wear if it's at the bar. Usually, the guys are more focused on watching their own Old Ladies than looking at anyone else.