Tempting The Biker (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV 3) - Page 3

Steam nearly blows out my ears. “Shut that filthy mouth before I stick a bar of soap in it.”


You’re no fun.”

“I mean it. Behave.” I slap a couple twenties in her palm. “Order a pizza. Keep the doors locked. I’ll have eyes on the house,” I warn. “Don’t be bringing any of them fuckboys around here.”

“Yes, Daddy,” she mocks. “I’ll be a good girl.”

“If I were your daddy you wouldn’t be pressing my buttons. You sure as fuck wouldn’t be staying over at an outlaw’s house.”

“Pity. I was looking forward to you taking me over your knee.”

My cock twitches again at the thought, pressing against the seam of my zipper. “Order the pizza for fuck’s sake and put on some clothes. Try to stay out of trouble.” I stomp through the door that leads into the garage. Climbing on my bike, I back down the driveway and roar off toward The Devil’s Playground, my clubhouse.

**

“What are you doing here?” Nickel, the club VP, squeezes his whore’s tit and bites her neck. She squirms in his lap.

I take up the empty seat at his table and nod to the prospect behind the bar to get me a beer. “Banks around?”

“Cleaning the shitters.”

I shake my head. “What did he fuck up now?”

“Nothing. Bathroom is just nasty as fuck.”

“Where’s Lion?”

“Prez took off about an hour ago mad as hell about something. What’s up with you?”

Shit. I hope Ruthie didn’t go flapping her damn jaws again.

“Same shit different day.”

“Ruthie,” he mutters with a shake of his head.

It’s always fucking Ruthie. “You.” I look to the whore.

“Yeah.” She leans forward, titty hanging out the top of her tank top. Mascara smudged under her blue eyes. Diamond pendant dangling around her neck.

“Go take over for Banks. Tell him Murder wants to see him.”

“Wh-what? You want me to clean the bathrooms? I could you know...” she makes the motion of jerking her arm up and down with her fist clenched, pressing her tongue against her cheek.

“If I wanted my dick sucked, you’d already be on your fuckin’ knees. Bathrooms now,” I bark, slapping my palm against the table and the bitch visibly jerks.

Her gaze flicks to Nickel.

“You heard the man.” He pushes her up from his lap.

The dumb cunt moves off toward the bathrooms. Someone slides my bottle of Bud in front of me.

I snort. “Where’d you find that one?”

“Poker game.” He grins slicking his dark hair back into a ponytail.

“Fuck. I think you were cheated.”

Tags: Glenna Maynard Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV Romance
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