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Little Toy Bikers and a Woman on the Run

Chapter 218 Cock Block

After the reporter left, they had a round of drinks to celebrate their first ever MC TV interview before opening the clubhouse for an impromptu party. Usually they were scrambling trying to deal with negative attention. This was a great first for the club.

The guys had done a good job of backing up his story about a friend of the club telling him about seeing men taking a child into the woods. It was close to true. The reporter hadn't even bothered to ask the name of the friend of the club.

Tristen's name hadn't been released either. Reports either identified her as a child or a little girl. Names of victims of attempted sexual assaults weren't released. Elliot wouldn't have to use his power and money to keep that secret.

"Prospect!" Jax yelled.

He didn't bother looking for Half-Sack. As a prospect, it was one of a prospect's duties to always be alert to a member's calling out for him. Half-Sack trotted up to Jax.

"No more alcohol or drugs for you tonight. I'm going to get very, very, very drunk. I'm not going to be able to ride. You are going to bring me home."

"In the van or the tow truck or a bike?"

"Do you think I would ride bitch with you? Or anyone?" Jax's blue eyes narrowed sternly. "Figure it out."

"I'll bring you to your house in the tow truck."

Jax frowned to keep from smiling. Terrorizing the prospects never got old. After all the shit he and Opie went through, he savored dishing out hell.

"I might want to go say good night to Scarlett, so you might need to bring me by her room. If we go by her motel, you treat her with respect."

"If there's a guy in her room . . ."

Jax punched Half-Sack, a quick, hard jab to the gut. It wasn't designed to double him over in pain. It was a corrective punch.

"What part of respect don't you understand?"

"Sorry. My mistake. Respect means respect," Half-Sack said quickly.

"You think she's some whore?"

Half-Sack quickly shook his head.

"No. Absolutely not."

Jax was shocked by Half-Sack's suggestion that there might be a man in Scarlett's room. There were certain things in life he was sure of and he was sure that Scarlett didn't have men in her motel room.

"Now, here's the hard part. It is really important. During the party and all of my time in the clubhouse tonight, you are to keep my dick from any contact with a female."

"When you say contact does that mean . . ." Half-Sack broke off when he saw a look of annoyance cross Jax's face.

"Contact means any contact. I better not pass out and wake up in the clubhouse draped in crow-eaters."

"I won't let that happen to you," Half-Sack said. "Am I supposed to be protecting you from them or them from you?"

"Why the hell would I want you to protect a girl from my dick?"

"Sorry," Half-Sack said quickly.

"Think before you speak. You are also not to allow me to be alone with a girl in this clubhouse tonight."

"You will not wake up here and I am to block your cock."

Jax raised an eyebrow and frowned.

"Block?"

"Protect it from girls."
Jax nodded his head approvingly.

"Now you got it, prospect," Jax said punching him in the arm playfully this time.

After his last sexual encounter with a crow-eater, he still wasn't feeling right about it. He'd used condoms as usual so it wasn't a physical concern. It was more mental.

When Scarlett confessed that he was the first man in four years that didn't make her skin crawl, he'd felt even worse about his sexual encounter with Connie the crow-eater. He even felt a little bad over the blow job the reporter had given him in the bathroom after the interview. Blow jobs weren't considered sex in his world and that had been more about making a useful contact for the MC than anything else.

He was giving some serious thought to not having sex with crow-eaters for a couple of weeks until he could figure out things with Scarlett or have sex with her. He was hoping for both.

His tasking Half-Sack with keeping his dick from landing in a crow-eater was about screwing with the prospect. He wasn't worried that he couldn't control his dick. He had control; he just didn't use it unless he was with someone special enough that made him want to use it.

That had been one of the problems with Wendy. When he was with Wendy, he hadn't cared about being faithful to her. He married her too quickly out of pathetic loneliness. By the time he discovered the depth of her meth addiction, it was too late. There was an irony that the woman he'd married out of loneliness made him feel more lonely when they were together because she was so strung out on meth he could have set himself on fire and she wouldn't have noticed.

When they first hooked up, he loved her energy and insatiable sexual desire. He hadn't wanted to see that crank was driving her behavior. He didn't want to think anymore about Wendy. She was dead. There was nothing to do about her now. He had already learned that lesson and accepted that he'd failed her as a husband. He had owed her more.

Jax smiled as he downed another beer. Soon, they would open the clubhouse and the party would begin. The prospect would have to show him that he had his back and he would discover just how good he was at cock blocking.