Ben
All eyes were on me.
I was standing in the middle of the clubhouse bar. No one twitched or made a noise. The silence was thick and impenetrable, until I cleared my throat, raised a shot glass high in the air, and roared at the top of my lungs, “To the Knights!”
On every side of me, my men raised their glasses like I had and echoed my words. Their voices were like thunder, like the world’s biggest bike engine, damn near deafening, as they toasted and ripped back their shots.
I was happy as hell. We were flush with cash, we’d knocked an enemy down a peg or two, and now it was time to get good and properly drunk. This liquor wasn’t going to drink itself, after all.
Two hours later and the party was in full swing. God only knew how many shots of whiskey I’d poured down my gullet, but I didn’t give a shit. This was a celebration, goddammit, and I had every right to keep ’em coming big and frequent.
“Slick,” I drawled, throwing my arm around the man’s shoulders where he sat next to me, “you done good.”
The clubhouse was packed with people. Every brother in the club had come out to toast to our good fortune. Slick had done exactly like I’d told him to, and the place was crawling with dimes wearing miniskirts and their best “fuck me” faces. More than a few had caught my eye. The first part of the night had been all about throwing back drinks with the boys, but now, the clock had reached that hour where my dick started to do the steering and I was just along for the ride. In other words, the fun part.
“Thanks, boss,” Slick slurred. He was a skinny bastard and the alcohol seemed to be catching up to him. Judging by the girl perched on the stool next to him who was rubbing his crotch through his jeans, I trusted he would be taken care of tonight. It was time for me to choose the night’s lucky female winner, the one I’d be having once the party started to wind down.
“What do you think, brother?” I growled to him. I swept my arm across the room. “Who should it be?”
Slick shrugged and leaned back against the bar unsteadily. “You’re the prez, prez. Which one do you want? You can have your pick of the litter.”
I chuckled. It was always nice to have a yes man like Slick around, though I hardly needed the confidence. Even long before I had the president’s patch on my leather kutte, I’d pulled pussy without breaking a sweat. I’d never understood why some men struggled with it so much. The way I saw it, women were looking for a man who could take them on an adventure. And shit, what better adventure than headed out for glory on the back of a bitching motorcycle? That was as good as it got.
The question was, which little minx was looking for an adventure tonight? I scanned the crowd. It was a swimming, churning mass of bare legs and asses encased in skintight denim. I saw blondes, brunettes, redheads, with bodies of every shape and size under the sun. This was a man’s dream. And they were all here for me. For us. On our turf, playing by our rules. It’d take a miracle for any brother here to end up alone tonight. But how was I supposed to choose?
Then, suddenly, one of the girls caught my eye. She looked different than the rest of them, like she was standing beneath a different light or something. I blinked my eyes and refocused. Either I was way drunker than I realized or something weird as hell was happening, because I could swear she had a crazy glow to her skin.
“I’ll be right back,” I muttered.
“Where ya goin’?” Slick asked, but I ignored him as I set my drink down and slowly began to wind my way over towards the girl. I felt cold and sharp. The warm, hazy drunk had disappeared instantly, and now I was like a shark zeroing in on my target. One hundred percent focus. Eyes for nothing but the goal.
The goal in question had her back to me. She was wearing a sparkling black backless top that plunged down to expose her spine and shoulder blades, what little I could see of them between the strands of the blonde hair swooping down her back. She was fit and tanned. Her body looked ripe for the taking. I wanted to grip and squeeze it, to run my tongue up along every vertebra and then flip her over and work my way back down between her legs.
Her friends were standing on either side of her, a brunette girl I didn’t know and a tall, skinny, mohawked kid I recognized as Hawkeye, one of the guys who worked at the local tattoo parlor. I dismissed them both silently. They would have to stand aside and let me dive in there. I wasn’t going to be denied.
I slid around the edge of the room until I was facing her from a few dozen feet away. She hadn’t noticed me yet, but I didn’t want to sneak up on her from behind. When I bore down on a girl, I wanted her to see me from a distance. Let the tension build until I arrived—half fear, half wondering what was coming next. Just the way I liked it.
I squared my shoulders and started a slow, smooth glide in her direction. Her mouth was painted with a dark, neat streak of lipstick. I couldn’t help but wonder what it would taste like. Above a slim nose, a pair of gray eyes sparkled. I did a double take. I’d never seen eyes like that before. They were almost unnatural. The pale shade of her irises and her blonde skin gave her an angelic sheen. There wasn’t another girl like her in the building, or even the whole damn state. This one was special.
And I wasn’t going to stop until I made her mine.
“I don’t know you,” I said bluntly as I strode into their small cluster. “Why’s that?”
Her friend whirled to her side to look up at me. I felt her eyes boring into the side of my face, but I kept my gaze locked on the blonde girl. Hawkeye looked at me, then away again. He knew the score. He knew who was in charge around here. I liked the guy, but if he was going to try to be protective of this innocent little peach, he had another thing coming indeed.
“I’m not sure,” the girl said after a long moment.
I didn’t want to take my eyes off her for a second, not even to blink; she was that beautiful. Christ, where did girls like this come from? It was a strange attraction, too. On any other day, I probably would have focused on her brunette friend to my left. That one had more of the wild vixen vibe to her, the kind I usually went for. One glance, and I knew she’d be down for anything.
But tonight was a special night. Another feather in the cap for my presidency. I was going to celebrate in style. This angel would be my treat.
She started to drop her eyes, but then she caught herself and looked back up. I liked that. She didn’t want to be afraid of me. Of course, no one could ever resist that feeling for long, but half the fun was in finding the breaking point in a girl like this. Seeing how far I could take her before she moaned for release.
The room was pounding with the noise of music and conversation, but I didn’t notice a thing. Her friends, the room around us, it all faded away to nothing as I took a step closer and asked, “What’s your name?” One hand drifted from my side to hers and came to rest lightly on her hip. She flinched, but softened immediately afterwards.
“Carmen,” she whispered. I was close enough to hear her hushed voice despite the chaos raging on all sides.
“I’m Ben,” I told her.
“Ben,” she repeated.
I winked. “You got it, babe.”
“Do you work here?” Her voice was shy, hesitant.
I laughed at the question. “I guess you could say that.”
“What do you do?”
“I’m the president.”
She reached a hand to her mouth and started to chew on a fingernail. Fuck, girls just had the most adorable habits sometimes. They’d look like ice queens one moment, damn near untouchable, and then with just a little bit of pressure they’d go and reveal that inner quirk, the one little behavior that made you want to dive in and crack them wide open, see the whole world the way they did. It baffled me how something so simple could make my whole body twinge so damn hard.
Slick staggered past behind us, one arm around the girl he was with. He gave me a wild nod and wink, but his foot caught on a loose floorboard. I saw it all happen in slow motion. His drunk smile turned into a look of surprised horror as he lost his balance and tipped forward. He was on track to barrel into Carmen, and the sloppy bastard was big enough to do some damage to this girl if he hit her.
Just as he was about to knock into her, my palm slid around to splay widely on the small of her back. I pulled her slightly into me to avoid the collision. She was close enough for me to feel her warmth. Her skin beneath my hand was damp with the beginnings of sweat, but soft and smooth to the touch. I growled low in my throat. Slick tumbled down and hit the ground right behind her with a heavy thud.
I looked down at Carmen. She was so tiny in my arms and so wide-eyed as she looked down at the accident we’d narrowly avoided and then back at me.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Never know what’s gonna happen next around here.”
“It’s a little intimidating,” she admitted.
“Ain’t so bad once you get used to it. Just watch out for that son of a bitch.” I nodded towards Slick, clambering to his feet behind her.
She giggled. “Is he okay?”
“Oh, Slick? He’ll be fine. This is all in a day’s work for the guy. He’s a fixture around here.”
She was giggling, but I could still sense some fear in her. I was sure this was a lot to handle all at once. I needed to dial it back for a second, let the conversation breathe. The last thing I wanted was to scare this girl off just yet.
I took a sudden step back and held her by her shoulders at arms’ length, then looked to her friends who were still standing on either side of us, looking nervous. “Speaking of ‘here,’ have you all been given the official clubhouse tour?”
Carmen and her friend shook their heads no in unison.
“Slick,” I called over her shoulder, “you rude bastard, you didn’t even treat our guests to a tour?” I turned back to them. “I apologize. My colleagues have no manners. Let me show you around.”
I grabbed Carmen’s hand and tugged her through the crowd until we found a hollow of space at the corner of the bar. I reached below the countertop and plucked out a dusty bottle of old whiskey and four shot glasses. Setting them on the surface, I poured out a hefty shot for Hawkeye and me and little ones for the two girls. I handed theirs over and raised the rim of all of our glasses to touch.
“The tour begins with a complimentary beverage,” I said in an overly formal tone, a wry smile cracking my face in two, “to be drank along with the official toast.”
“What’s the toast?” Carmen asked.
“In honor of your hosts, of course.” I raised my glass. “To the Knights.”
She and her friend looked at each other with wide eyes. Then, they cleared their throats and repeated what I had said.
“To the Knights.”
Carmen coughed and her eyes watered as the liquor slid down the back of her throat. I almost laughed out loud. She was so cute, clearly unused to the burning drink, but trying her damnest not to let me see it. Flat out adorable.
As I watched her compose herself, I felt a lurch. Goddamn, there it was again, that wild little twinge in my gut. It was like a cousin to the feeling of horniness. The desire to reach out and grab was there, but it had mutated into something just a bit different, a bit unfamiliar. Softer, maybe. Hell, I didn’t know. But this girl was doing strange things to me. Real fuckin’ strange.