CHAPTER 2 #2
Ryker is up and moving toward the door faster than he normally is, and today it’s Playboy hanging back. When I narrow my eyes at him, he gives me a sheepish grin like he’s hiding something. Which isn’t like him.
He lives with everything he does and thinks out there. Judge if you want, but he doesn’t hide shit. And he sure as fuck isn’t ashamed of anything he does, says, or thinks.
It gets his ass in trouble from time to time that’s for damn sure.
“What?” He sounds defensive as fuck while his eyes dart away from me.
I stand and stretch. “Why aren’t you the first out the door looking for pussy like normal?”
He rolls his eyes and Sidewinder hangs back at the door with the rest of the brothers heading out the door and not looking back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, brother,” he tries to deflect. But I’m not hearing that shit and stare him down. “Fuck off, VP,” he snarls.
Yeah, I wait his ass out. It’s not like I have pussy waiting for me; at least none I’m interested in fucking. It’s a fucking shame, but here we are.
“It’s not a big deal, but Lola keeps trying to get on my dick and I’m just not interested,” every word is filled with regret because I’m making him spill what’s going on.
“Is she a problem? Like can she not respect being told no?” I straighten up as I ask the question because that shit won’t work for me if that is what is going on.
No means no, and all that shit. And you better fucking believe it’s not just women who can say no. We’re equal opportunity around here when it comes to certain shit and this qualifies.
“Nothing like that,” he sighs, “I just don’t feel it.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me and I flip him off. He shrugs. “I’m just not interested in sticking my dick in Lola, but she wants me. Bad.”
“Don’t know what to tell you about that problem.” I’m not even trying to be helpful, but the scowl on Playboy’s face is worth it and I bark out a laugh. “I don’t know man,” I scratch the underside of my jaw, feeling the stubble there, “don’t fuck her then.”
“Very fucking helpful,” he deadpans.
Before I can lay any more sage advice on the man, he’s out the door, giving Sidewinder a little shove when my best friend smirks. Yeah, he can be a real dick when he wants to be.
When Playboy is gone, Sidewinder shoots me a look and we start cracking up. “Never heard him complain about a woman wanting on his dick before,” he chuckles.
I nod and slap his shoulder as we walk out of church. “There’s a first time for everything, brother.”
When we get to the bar, Scratch’s little brother, Bolt, is there already and hands us two beers. He’ll be prospecting soon enough, but he does odd jobs around the clubhouse for cash right now. Poor kid, he got his road name at two and hasn’t been able to shake it.
That’s what happens when you screech, “Watch me, I’m as fast as a bolt.” Then start running slow as fuck.
It wasn’t just once either. He was a broken record.
After tilting the neck of the bottle toward him in thanks, I turn toward Sidewinder. He looks at Bolt for a moment too long and then his eyes sweep across the clubhouse.
My eyebrows pull together, my tone curious, “You lookin’ for someone?”
He takes a quick swig of his beer before shaking his head and turning toward the bar and putting his back to the rest of the room. “Naw,” he grunts, “just seeing what’s what. Probably gonna get wild tonight,” he says the words, but he doesn’t sound particularly happy about it.
I’m not either.
Sure, I’m up for a good party, don’t get me wrong. But my liver won’t object to me taking a weekend off.
“We’re not kids anymore. Shit hits different on this side of 30,” I complain.
He glances and me and smirks. “Talk about yourself old timer,” he teases me.
I give him a shove, “Oh fuck off with all that. Like I don’t hear the groans you let out when all you’re doing is standing. Hate to hear the noises you’d make if you were using those knees to bang someone from behind.”
“Who is he fucking from behind?” Opal’s voice is breezy as she waltzes toward her normal spot behind the bar.
That’s not to say she’s just a bartender around here. Fuck no. Honestly, we wouldn’t be able to function without Opal. She manages the clubhouse day-to-day and makes it livable. She knows everyone’s favorites and she makes sure to have them on hand. She spoils us, honestly.
Her eyes flash up to Sidewinder, but they don’t hold.
“None of your business,” he fires at her with no real heat in the words.
“Right, right,” Opal concedes and raises her hands.
I’m about to ask why she’s letting him off the hook so easily when she never lets me get away with that shit. Before I can open my mouth, a hand wraps around my bicep and squeezes.
Looking over I find Lola standing there with her blonde hair sleek and straight while her tits are practically spilling out of the top she’s wearing. I glance over at Playboy to find him cuddling up with Sindi and I know exactly what is going on.
“Lola,” I tip my voice low because I’m not about embarrassing people. At least, not unnecessarily. “If you’re angling to make Playboy jealous or some shit, it’s not going to fly. You’re a club whore. Remember your place.”
My words are true and I keep the venom and annoyance I’m feeling out of them. But it’s not easy.
Something flashes in Lola’s eyes, but it’s gone before I can figure out what it is. The smile she gives me is seductive, but my dick isn’t interested. Not even a little bit.
“I know what my place is,” she purrs the words. “I’m here for the pleasure of the brothers and you, VP, are definitely a brother. What can I do for you? You want to feel pleasure like you’ve never known before?”
I almost snort out a laugh, but I swallow it down. Right along with the rest of my beer.
The bottle lands on the bar top and Opal looks up from inventory or whatever the fuck she’s doing. Her lip curls when she sees Lola, but she doesn’t say anything. She can’t; it wouldn’t be her place and she fucking knows it.
Not bothering to answer Lola, I step back from the bar, and nod toward Opal and Sidewinder. “I’m out. Have a good night. Can’t wait to see that rust bucket when it arrives at the shop.”
“Fuck off,” he grumbles.
I cut my eyes at Lola and shake my head which has her pouting, but she doesn’t try to follow me when I walk out of the clubhouse.
When I’m out the door and headed toward my place, which isn’t a far walk which I use to clear my head, I glance back at the giant factory and warehouse we converted into the clubhouse.
They tried to bring manufacturing to Dogwood Ridge, but then the company went belly up. It was some tech thing too, which could have been good for our town. Wasn’t meant to be, I guess.
Everything was gutted and the only thing used when all was said and done was the shell of the building. We’d rather people underestimate the club based on what we want them to see, and the outside sure as fuck isn’t fancy. Little do most people know that we have top of the line shit inside.
It helps when you can earn bank by bending the law.
The moment I step inside my house, I breathe a little easier. I have no fucking idea what is going on with me lately, but I need to get my head in the game. Something’s coming, I can feel it the same way you do when a storm is on the horizon.
I rub a hand over my face as exhaustion hits me and I grumble, “I’m getting too old for this shit.”