Jerry's Passion: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 6) by Chiah Wilder Page A

be none the wiser, but he’d end up with a hard-on for a while. The club whores could relieve that, but since he’d tasted Kylie’s lips, he didn’t want any of the other women. In time, that would pass—he was sure of it.
    Jerry sat on the ground, staring at his phone, while nature played its music all around him. When the sun dipped further in the western sky, he pushed himself up, jammed his phone in his back pocket, and sauntered over to his Harley. Normally he’d feel refreshed and calm when he’d leave his favorite spot, but right then, he was horny, pissed, and confused. He revved his engine and began the journey back to the clubhouse for church.
    *     *     *
    Throwing back his fourth shot of Jack, he knew he’d be crashing at the clubhouse. Jerry had lived at the clubhouse for a couple of years after he’d patched in, but he’d craved a place of his own, so three years before, he’d rented an apartment. He only crashed at the club if he were shit-faced or having too much fun with the women.
    “You look like you need some company,” Wendy said, wrapping her arm around his neck as she gave him a small nip.
    “I’m good, Wendy,” he deadpanned, wishing she were Kylie.
    “You’ve been avoiding all of us. What’s up? You not feeling well?”
    “Something like that.” He gently unwrapped her arms from his neck. “Go have a good time. I’m not up for anything tonight.” A dull vibration pulsed against his leg. Pulling out his phone, his blood pumping when he saw Kylie’s name flash across its screen, he turned his back to the crowd and faced the bar.
    Kylie: Hey.
    Jerry: Hey.
    Kylie: Whatcha doing?
    He motioned for another shot. Blade placed it in front of him. I’m thinking about you like always. I want to be with you, feel your naked skin against mine, taste your sweet lips again. He threw back his Jack, the whiskey smooth and scorching.
    Jerry: Doing shots at the club. What bout u?
    Kylie: U’re at the club? Who’s with u?
    He smiled. She wanted to know if he was with a club girl. Oh, yeah.
    Jerry: Most of the guys & women r here.
    Even though it was true, technically, he knew she’d think he meant he was with one of the whores. Making her sweat gave him a perverse pleasure. He knew he was acting like a bastard because he couldn’t have her; he wanted to punish her for her dad’s edict.
    Kylie: Oh. Rosie or Wendy?
    Jerry: All the whores r here.
    Kylie: U’re outdoing urself. I gotta go.
    He’d gone too far. He didn’t want to lose the connection to her.
    Jerry: Don’t go. Like talking to u.
    Kylie: Ricky just came in. We’re going to a concert. Bye. Have fun with ur women.
    Then she was gone. He’d fucking blown it. She’d reached out to him, and he made her feel like shit. And why the fuck was Ricky in her room? Jerry didn’t like that one bit. That kid was trying to get in her pants. He’d seen it that night, and he’d be damned if he’d let Ricky anywhere near Kylie’s pussy. Narrowing his eyes, Jerry decided he needed another road trip, and Crested Peak was the perfect destination.
    He had to rid his mind of Kylie, and the only way he knew how to do that was to drink himself to oblivion.
    He motioned for another shot.

Chapter Seven
    K ylie flung her phone across the room, not giving a shit if it broke. Grinding her teeth, she stomped over to her closet and shoved her clothes aside, searching for her jean jacket while she cursed Jerry under her breath. The asshole could fuck whoever he wanted. Dad’s right—he’s such a man-whore. He didn’t even say anything nice to her, like he missed her or he’d been thinking about her. All he did was tell her he was with a bunch of women. What a bastard! She’d bet he was annoyed when he saw it was her texting him. He still thought of her as that twelve-year-old girl who had a crush on him.
    She tossed her jacket on the bed and slammed the closet door shut. Pacing back and forth, Kylie berated herself for texting Jerry.