~ 2 ~
We were heading out in the morning, so the night was ours to do as we pleased. Crank had come back from fucking Sydney, ready to head out to a local bar the club frequented. We’d driven there, eight bikers deep, winding along the dusty roads as the sun set over the tops of the ramshackle houses.
We pulled into the Motor Lounge a little after eight, parking our bikes out front and lining them up like we owned the place. I guess we practically did. The Highwaymen ruled this town. Most people loved us, and those that didn’t love us feared us, which was as good as loving us in my book.
I swung my leg over my bike and pulled off my helmet following Skate and the others inside. The bar had seemed quiet from the outside, but inside it was noisy and the line for the bar was long. Everyone, barring me, went and sat down, easily filling two booths, while I headed to the payphone at the end of the bar and dialed Bull’s number. He picked up on the second ring, grunting a hello.
“Hey, Bull.”
“Sketch, how’s it going?” as usual, he sounded pleased to hear from me. Bull and I went way back, and though I had gone nomad with Crank that didn’t stop the history between us continuing to grow.
“I’m good. How’s the club doing? Heard there was trouble last week.”
Bull chuckled darkly. “Nothing your brothers couldn’t handle. How’s Crank?”
“He’s good.”
“Met anyone yet?”
“He’s been seeing a sweetbutt for a couple of months, but you know him—it ain’t ever gonna’ be serious,” I said, turning to look in the direction of the booth where Crank was sat. “How’s my studio? Still there?”
When I’d left my club, I’d left the studio that Bull had had built for me. He’d been pissed off since the club had sunk some money into it, but he understood my need to get out after what had happened with Kelly. Woman had broken my heart. Besides, Bull had a soft spot for Crank and hadn’t wanted him to be out here on his own, so he’d let me go without argument, happy knowing that Crank and I would have each others backs.
“Still here, gathering dust. We had a prospect look into training up at one point, but the little asswipe pissed himself when it came down to clearing dead bodies, so he didn’t make the cut. Shame, it’s a real nice studio.”
“Damn right it is,” it was my turn to chuckle now, “I’ll be back for it one day.”
I went silent while I waited for him to tell me what I was calling about, and thankfully he cut the chit chat and got right to it.
“The kids doin’ good. Parents moved to a bigger house and she’s started some kindergarten. Got a woman on the inside that says the kid is happy and healthy, but you know the drill—we’ll keep our eyes on her.”
I nodded, happy to be able to tell Crank that his kid sister was still doing good. He never asked me or the club to check up on her. In fact, he never brought her up, but I knew that he slept better knowing that she was doing okay.
“Alright, well, we’ll swing by in a couple of months and catch up, I gotta go get a beer.”
“Alright, brother, look after yourself. And stay out of trouble,” he barked out like an angry father. “Don’t be a ghost,” he said and then hung up.
I hung up too and headed back to the table. A couple of prospects went and ordered drinks since the waitresses were busy with other tables already and we were thirsty as hell.
I was in a good mood. Hungry, ready to eat and drink and maybe tattoo a couple of brothers later on if I didn’t get too shitfaced. But I had a feeling the food wait was going to piss me off and eat into my night.
Skate smoked a cigar, leaning back in the booth. Vin had come with us, which was unusual of him since there was so much going on with the club right then I didn’t think he would make it. Plus his old lady had been giving him shit about not coming home for days in a row. We’d all laughed at that. Not that Vin seemed to care about what anyone thought about him or his relationship with Lex. Unless it was to insult his old lady—then the shit hit the fan. Lex and Vin were as solid as any couple could be, and then some.
Jase and Mason, the two prospects that had come out with us, returned with the drinks and informed us that food was over an hour wait, but the manager had said he’d put a rush on our orders. I smiled, happy to hear the news.
Crank crunched down on some ice and leaned back in the booth, his gaze far away as he watched the crowd on the dance floor, couples moving together slowly as the bass hit low and the live band that was on slowed things right down. He looked sort of miserable, like he wished Sydney had come with us, and I wondered whether Buddy was right and I should give Crank a nudge to maybe stay on and see how things panned out with Sydney.
“You good, brother?” I asked.
He turned toward me and grinned. “Yeah.” He crunched on the ice again, unapologetically loud, and a shiver ran down my spine, obvious distaste written all over my face.
“Gotta fuckin’ stop that before I knock your teeth out,” I grunted, picking up my beer and taking a long drink of it.
Crank crunched some more. Always the fucking joker when it came to me. I listened to his teeth grinding over the cold ice, my own teeth feeling sensitive at just the thought. The song finished and the band picked up the pace, a heavy bass hitting hard. Crank crunched again and I reached over and shoved my hand into his glass of Coke, grabbing the ice in his drink and pulling it out before dropping it on the floor. I wiped my hand down my jeans as the table of men turned to look at me.
“Anyone else wanna chew on ice?” I snarled.
Skate smirked and continued with his cigar and Buddy let out a loud laugh, slapping Crank on the shoulder.
Crank didn’t say anything to me, but his laughter spoke volumes.
As the night wore on I got a nice warm buzz going. The food was good, and as promised, the manager made sure we got it quickly. I pushed my plate away, finally done with it, and looked up as a woman’s loud laugh echoed across the bar. My gaze sought her out and I wondered how the fuck I’d missed her all night.
She was small—much smaller than I normally go for—and slender. Her waist was tiny, her hips jutted out perfectly, and her curves were fucking poetic. Fuck me she was hot, and I knew immediately that I wanted a taste of that. I adjusted myself as my dick woke up.
She was laughing with another man as they walked away from the bar, and I wondered if he was her boyfriend but quickly decided against it. At the very least, though, he wanted to be; that much was obvious. Though she clearly wasn’t interested as she brushed his hand off of her hip while they threaded through the crowd. I watched with curiosity as she confidently moved. She may have been small, but every fucker in that bar noticed her. Her legs were long, and her blond hair shone as the light reflected off it.
She gave a slanted smile to some dick wearing an Abercrombie and Finch polo shirt as she edged past him and he gave her ass a hard slap. I sat up straighter, my nostrils flaring as I tried to control my temper. Though why the fuck I should be bothered I wasn’t sure. She glanced over her shoulder and he winked at her obnoxiously before she went on through the busy bar, the other guy she was with turning to throw a scowl at Mr. Ass-Slapper.
“You know her?” Crank asked with a jut of his head toward her.
I shook mine.
“She’s fucking hot.”
“You’re telling me,” I replied, my eyes still following her through the crowd. Hot didn’t even begin to describe this woman. She was fucking mesmerizing. Hottest thing I’d seen in a while. I was half inclined to stick around Montana just to fuck her for a little while.
Because I would be fucking her before this night was through…and once would not be enough. That was for damn certain.
“Think I need a taste of that before the end of the night,” Crank said, and I practically growled at him as a warning to back the fuck off. “All right, all right, consider her pissed on.”
Skate leaned forward. “You like the look of that?” he asked.
“You don’t?” I scowled, wanting to smack his teeth out for looking at my girl.
My girl? Where the fuck did that come from?
“Bitch don’t put out,” he laughed. “Don’t blame you for trying though—every other brother has tried, but I’m telling you you’re wasting your time with that one. Grab a bitch from the table over there, or a sweetbutt from the club. Half the time, half the trouble, and twice the fun.” His cell rang and he pulled it out of his cut, and Buddy moved so he could get out from the booth to take the call outside.
No idea what the fuck he was talking about, though, because I couldn’t see how she wouldn’t be worth the trouble. Hottest piece of ass I’d seen in all of Montana. Besides, I liked a woman with a bit of fight in her, and if she was trouble than she’d basically hung a collar around her neck already saying “property of Sketch.”
I was about to stand up and go find her when I saw her threading back through the bar. She strutted back across the floor, her hands free of the beers she had previously been carrying and her gaze on the Abercrombie and Finch guy. I scowled, wondering why she was paying him any attention.
She was short, barely scraping five feet four inches, even in heels, with small hips, small tits, and a head full of loose blond curls. Her lips were painted bright red, but the rest of her face was almost bare of the shit most women piled on their skin. Fucking beautiful.
She strutted straight up to the guy that had slapped her ass, reaching up to tap him on the shoulder. Her black leather jacket rode up so I got a view of her smooth, pale stomach, and damn I wanted to reach out and spread my hand across her skin and feel her warmth under my fingertips.
My nostrils flared at the thought and I lifted my beer, taking a long swallow and almost spitting it back out as he turned around and she reached back, punching him square in the face.
“Fuck me!” I barked out giving a laugh loud enough that every brother at the table turned to see what I was staring at.
Abercrombie called out, stumbling backwards and grabbing his face as she yelled something at him before turning to walk away.
Jesus Christ she was insane, and I fucking loved it. By the way she unapologetically punched that guy in the face, I had no reason to doubt that she was more than just trouble. No, she was wild and untamed, and my dick was ready to bust out my jeans at how turned on she’d just made me.
“Fucking crazy bitches,” Crank muttered, and sank the rest of his Coke in one mouthful.
Abercrombie let go of his nose and reached for her and I stood up, ready to dive in and kick his ass for two reasons. One, he was a fucking prick for wearing that shirt in a bar like this. And two, you never hit a woman. Especially a woman that I wanted to fuck.
Turns out she didn’t need my help though.
He reached for her shoulder, his fingers gripping it tightly as he yelled something at her, and in a move that was better suited to a Jackie Chan movie than a biker bar in Montana, she gripped his arm and threw him over her shoulder before slamming him onto the ground.
“Fuck yeah!” I was standing up, staring in awe and admiration at this beautiful little thing.
“Touch me again and I’ll break your arm,” she snarled like she was going to rip his throat out. And I had no doubt she could and would fucking do it. “Now, say you’re sorry.”
I watched his friends closely because I was more than ready to wade in if any of them decided to try to help out their buddy, but none of them seemed stupid enough to. Good thing.
She leaned down over him, his arm twisted in an uncomfortable position. “I said, say sorry!”
“Sorry? Are you fucking psychotic?” he screamed at her from the ground. He bucked to get her off him as she leaned down and grinned wickedly. She was small, but she clearly had him by some pressure point, because one small move of her arm and he stopped bucking and started yelling something incoherent.
Damn, she had big lady balls.
Big beautiful lady balls.
Women like that don’t come along every day.
Yeah, she’d be worth sticking around an extra couple of weeks for.
A crowd had formed around the two of them, most people looking on and laughing as the dickwad got overpowered by a woman half his size.
“Last chance.” She winked. “Apologize for being a pig…” She squeezed the trigger point again. “…or I break something.”
“All right, all right!” he screamed in agony. “I’m sorry!”
“Sorry for what?” she teased, her tongue darting out across her bottom lip like the whole thing was turning her on. Fuck. It was definitely turning me on.
“For being a fucking red-blooded man!” he snarled back. “You strut around here in your tight leather pants, tits spilling out for every man to see, and expect no one to want to tap that! Fuck you. Sluts like you are just asking for it.”
Her face fell, the soft edges turning hard as her eyes narrowed in on him. She shook her head. “No, the only thing I’m asking for is to take my girl to a bar for a drink without getting felt up every time I pass a man.” She twisted his arm once more and let go of him, standing back up she glared down. “Touch me again and I’ll do more than sprain your wrist.”
He climbed back to his feet and rolled his shoulders. “You bitches are just cockteases,” he said, turning away from her. His friends were laughing but he was far from it. In fact from the look in his eyes, he wasn’t going to let this drop so easy.
The music got louder, the crowd dispersed, and she shook her head and walked away from him. I was still standing up, and my gaze followed her through the bar to a table by the dance floor where another woman and the guy from earlier sat.
“What was that all about?” Crank asked, following my gaze.
Miss Blond and Gorgeous ran her hand up the other woman’s thigh and I swallowed past the lump in my throat. Fuck.
“I think I just fell in love,” I replied. Crank started to laugh and I looked back at him and grinned. “It’s not funny, brother. I think I just fell for a dyke.”
Crank laughed harder and I shook my head, my gaze still on the blond. She leaned in and kissed the other woman on the mouth, her hand wrapping around the back of her head so she could kiss her harder, and my dick all but exploded in my jeans.
She was level one hundred hot.
Maybe more.
And I had zero fucking chance with her.