him inside.
Bodies filled every available space. Pool tables lined the
far back corner of the large room and a bar took up one wall. Her gaze darted
around as she attempted to take it all in. Men clad in everything from leather
pants to worn denim in familiar, black vests with the Lords emblem on it filled
the space. Women in booty shorts, tiny skirts and suggestive dresses hung on
their arms, against the bar and lounged on couches.
A glance down at her outfit made her want to go back and
rethink her choice. Shooter hugged her to him.
“I’m going to introduce you to a few people.”
Nodding, she leaned into him, trying to avoid bumping others
in the crowded area. Imaginary daggers pricked her as women narrowed their eyes
and followed her progression. Were these all women Shooter had slept with?
Her stomach ached. She couldn’t measure up to these twiggy
frames. Sweeping the crowd again, she noted the absence of African Americans.
There was a vest-less man in the back and a sizeable number of brown-skinned
men and women she thought might be of Spanish decent.
“Hey. Is this the old lady?” someone with a loud voice
boomed. Jumping slightly, she looked up and grinned at the familiar face. The
large, burly man with a thick, full beard, laughing blue eyes and hands the
size of hams patted Shooter on the shoulder.
“You actually made an honest man out of the fucker. Congrats
to both of you. I thought for a minute Shooter was making that up, eh.” He
grinned, and his brilliant whites chased away the scary impression she’d
received the first time she met him.
“Nice to see you again, Moose.” Unable to resist his
charisma, she beamed.
“You guys want a drink?”
“Hell, yeah.” Shooter nodded. She could see how at home he
was here, though his demeanor remained the same.
“Please,” she added.
“Come on. Let’s hit the bar.”
Lined up at the bar a few minutes later they were greeted by
a porcelain-skinned redhead.
“Hey, Red, can I get a beer?”
“Sure, Moose.” Leaning forward to show off the swell of her
obviously inflated breasts, she leered at Shooter. “And what can I get for
you?”
Narrowing her eyes, Juliette clenched her teeth. The blatant
offer scraped her nerves raw. The muscle in her cheek ticked.
“A beer’s fine and,” Shooter turned to Juliette, “what’ll
you have, baby?”
This bitch’s heart on a platter. She’d never been
catty or aggressive but she knew in order to be in his world she’d have to
learn.
“Rum and Coke.”
“And a rum and Coke, Red.”
“Coming right up.” Turning away, she set the beers in front
of Moose and Shooter and began to make Juliette’s drink.
“I’ve never seen you around,” Red said, mad-dogging Juliette
as she sloppily made her drink.
“This is my old lady, Juliette.”
Red’s eyes went as round as dinner plates and Juliette
smirked. Checkmate.
Clearly stunned, Red handed over the drink silently. The
malice visible in the depths of her blues told Juliette she’d best watch her
back.
“Yo, Red, another round this way.”
“Duty calls.” Red turned to serve the group at the end of
the bar.
“Come on, baby girl, I see Prez over there with Boston. I
want to introduce you.”
After swirling her drink to mix the alcohol with the soda,
she brought the glass to her lips and took a giant gulp. “Okay.” They navigated
the dimly lit, smoky room, and her heart sped.
Prez was a giant man who made her want to run screaming in
the opposite direction. Burly, bald and rocking scruff, he had stone-colored,
old eyes. He was a man who’d seen a lot. Scars lined his neck and forearms.
“Prez, this is my old lady, Juliette.”
“Welcome to the family. I heard a lot about you.” His
sandpaper-rough voice caused goose bumps to erupt on her arms.
“Good things, I hope?” she squeaked.
“Oh, yeah. This is my old lady, Boston.”
“Hi, Juliette, nice to meet you.” She held out her hand. The
petite brunette with large
Bodies filled every available space. Pool tables lined the
far back corner of the large room and a bar took up one wall. Her gaze darted
around as she attempted to take it all in. Men clad in everything from leather
pants to worn denim in familiar, black vests with the Lords emblem on it filled
the space. Women in booty shorts, tiny skirts and suggestive dresses hung on
their arms, against the bar and lounged on couches.
A glance down at her outfit made her want to go back and
rethink her choice. Shooter hugged her to him.
“I’m going to introduce you to a few people.”
Nodding, she leaned into him, trying to avoid bumping others
in the crowded area. Imaginary daggers pricked her as women narrowed their eyes
and followed her progression. Were these all women Shooter had slept with?
Her stomach ached. She couldn’t measure up to these twiggy
frames. Sweeping the crowd again, she noted the absence of African Americans.
There was a vest-less man in the back and a sizeable number of brown-skinned
men and women she thought might be of Spanish decent.
“Hey. Is this the old lady?” someone with a loud voice
boomed. Jumping slightly, she looked up and grinned at the familiar face. The
large, burly man with a thick, full beard, laughing blue eyes and hands the
size of hams patted Shooter on the shoulder.
“You actually made an honest man out of the fucker. Congrats
to both of you. I thought for a minute Shooter was making that up, eh.” He
grinned, and his brilliant whites chased away the scary impression she’d
received the first time she met him.
“Nice to see you again, Moose.” Unable to resist his
charisma, she beamed.
“You guys want a drink?”
“Hell, yeah.” Shooter nodded. She could see how at home he
was here, though his demeanor remained the same.
“Please,” she added.
“Come on. Let’s hit the bar.”
Lined up at the bar a few minutes later they were greeted by
a porcelain-skinned redhead.
“Hey, Red, can I get a beer?”
“Sure, Moose.” Leaning forward to show off the swell of her
obviously inflated breasts, she leered at Shooter. “And what can I get for
you?”
Narrowing her eyes, Juliette clenched her teeth. The blatant
offer scraped her nerves raw. The muscle in her cheek ticked.
“A beer’s fine and,” Shooter turned to Juliette, “what’ll
you have, baby?”
This bitch’s heart on a platter. She’d never been
catty or aggressive but she knew in order to be in his world she’d have to
learn.
“Rum and Coke.”
“And a rum and Coke, Red.”
“Coming right up.” Turning away, she set the beers in front
of Moose and Shooter and began to make Juliette’s drink.
“I’ve never seen you around,” Red said, mad-dogging Juliette
as she sloppily made her drink.
“This is my old lady, Juliette.”
Red’s eyes went as round as dinner plates and Juliette
smirked. Checkmate.
Clearly stunned, Red handed over the drink silently. The
malice visible in the depths of her blues told Juliette she’d best watch her
back.
“Yo, Red, another round this way.”
“Duty calls.” Red turned to serve the group at the end of
the bar.
“Come on, baby girl, I see Prez over there with Boston. I
want to introduce you.”
After swirling her drink to mix the alcohol with the soda,
she brought the glass to her lips and took a giant gulp. “Okay.” They navigated
the dimly lit, smoky room, and her heart sped.
Prez was a giant man who made her want to run screaming in
the opposite direction. Burly, bald and rocking scruff, he had stone-colored,
old eyes. He was a man who’d seen a lot. Scars lined his neck and forearms.
“Prez, this is my old lady, Juliette.”
“Welcome to the family. I heard a lot about you.” His
sandpaper-rough voice caused goose bumps to erupt on her arms.
“Good things, I hope?” she squeaked.
“Oh, yeah. This is my old lady, Boston.”
“Hi, Juliette, nice to meet you.” She held out her hand. The
petite brunette with large
Similar Books
