Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75406 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“I’m confused. Wouldn’t that mean the sluts are higher up?”
He snorts. “Women aren’t members. Members have members, old ladies belong to their men, and the sluts are here because they like the lifestyle and men like having pretty girls around. So long as they’re here, we make sure people don’t fuck with them, but that’s because it’s basic human decency and real fucking men don’t hurt people weaker than them.”
I can tell it’s not that simple. When they look at their wives, old ladies, whatever you want to call it, I can tell that these men would die for their families, but biker culture sounds like it’s still very much a men’s club. This is their world. Like it or leave it.
“I’m Chef, by the way. You want a drink or are you just going to sit there taking up space?”
“Um… a coke, please?”
The look Chef gives me makes me reconsider all of my life choices up to and including asking for a soda in a private motorcycle club bar.
“Do you have Pepsi? Because that’s okay, too. I don’t really mind either way so long as it isn’t diet.” I’m babbling, but it’s hard to stop when he keeps looking at me like that. “I wish I did like diet soda. My friends keep telling me the taste of the sweetener will grow on me, but I’m in my twenties. It would’ve happened by now, right?”
Jewel walks behind the bar, takes Chef’s face in her hands and kisses him. There’s a lot of tongue. So much that I start feeling like I should find somewhere else to be, but eventually she breaks it off and pats him on the cheek. He grunts and rolls his eyes, but there’s a hint of a smile as he begrudgingly pulls a Coke out of the fridge and slides the can my way.
Two bikers come up, they nod at me. The taller one, with short hair and a neatly trimmed beard calls to Chef. “Three beers and a virgin Blue Hawaiian.”
“Sure, Preacher. How’s Summer?” Jewel asks. “I heard the news. Congratulations.”
“Thanks. It’s fucking crazy. I can’t believe in like half a year we’ll almost be outnumbered.”
The other guy glances over his shoulder. “Put a rush on it. We need to get back before they start playing a little game of what we’ve been calling ‘oh no, stepbro’.
Jewel bursts out laughing. She sees me watching, utterly confused. “Their old lady Summer is pregnant. Triplets. Her third man is Crash. They used to be step-siblings.”
“Maybe I should start drinking. The gossip around here is even better than at the salon.” And some of the stuff I’ve heard at work when people forget the person washing their hair has ears? Crazy.
“Oh, this is nothing. Thunder and Lighting are twins, right? I heard—”
“Hey, baby,” Tank says, interrupting before I get more juicy details. “You okay?”
I take a sip of my soda and spin around, finding them all behind me. “Yeah, I’m fine. Chef was just explaining club life to me.”
“Shit, now we’ll never be able to convince you to stay,” Nitro says with a laugh.
My heart flops. He’s teasing, I know it, but an hour ago we were… I don’t know if I’m cut out for this. For being the kind of girl who can fool around with men like them without getting my heart broken at least a little bit.
“He didn’t tell me everything. I have so many more questions. Like what are prospects? Do you have to call sluts, sluts? Do you guys know each other’s real names? Do you change them legally? Like, if I sent Thank You cards after all this is over, do I put Tank on the envelope? What about if—”
Wraith kisses me, really hard, his hand capturing the side of my face and tilting my head so we line up. Everything good about the world seems to bubble right up from my stomach and percolate around my head, and I shut my eyes tight and lean into it. His long beard is scratchy around my lips and against my chin, but that's part of what makes it a kiss with Wraith, and I don't think I’d ever want it to be any different.
When he finally pulls away, I swallow thickly. No more questions, only tingles. “Was that to shut me up?”
“Yes,” he deadpans. “I also just wanted to kiss you.”
“Oh, okay.” When it's kissing like that, I can live with it.
“No rush, Trigger, but do you want to hang out here or would you like to go somewhere a little more private. Maybe we can pick up where we left off,” Tank whispers in my ear.
I am soooo getting my heart broken, but it’ll be worth it. “Yes, please.”
20
KAYLEE
I don't even have to walk there on my own. The moment I say yes, Tank sweeps me up and carries me in his arms like we're newlyweds, straight through the club towards the corridor that leads to the bikers' private quarters. A chorus of hoots and cheers follow us the whole way, which would normally embarrass the crap out of me, but around here it doesn’t feel judgmental.