Page 1 of His Road Dog

Chapter 1

Priest

1990

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THE ROWDY CROWD INSIDETarkio Motorcycle Club clubhouse spread into the hallway. Priest shut the meeting room door, making sure it locked behind him. His business call had taken longer than he'd planned.

Catching sight of Curley, he motioned for a drink. Half his Friday night was over. He had a lot of catching up to do.

His vice president reached his side, passing him a full whiskey bottle. Priest took a long draw and looked over the mob in the room.

"Let the prospects know we've reached the limit on guests. We don't want the cops paying us a visit." His attention drawn to the women on the other side of the room, he slapped Curley in the chest. "Let me know if any trouble starts."

"I've got Rick, Paco, and Frank watching the entrance. Despite the shit happening here, we're keeping it contained." Curley raised his brows and tilted his head. "For now."

A lone woman twirled in a circle, her arms outstretched. Dark curls floated behind her. A group of Tarkio members leaned against the wall, all eyes on the woman. Priest took another drink and licked his top lip. She stood out from the other women.

She wore a silky-looking sundress that flowed around her legs past her knees. One of the thin straps hung off her shoulder. Her perky breasts bounced freely under the material. Even in the dim light coming from over the pool table, he could make out her nipples, tenting the white material.

Without taking his gaze off the woman, he said, "Who brought in the chick who's dancing?"

"She came in alone." Curley widened his stance. "Roddy's keeping an eye on her."

He scanned the room, finding Roddy straddling a chair backward in the corner, a beer bottle hanging from his left hand. Priest snagged a woman passing him by her wrist and brought her to the front of him.

Staring at her face, he recognized her as someone who'd seen the inside of the bedrooms at the clubhouse before. He squeezed her breast through her tube top and took another swig.

He couldn't remember the woman's name, but he wasn't looking to make friends. "Stick by my side."

The woman glanced behind her. If she came with one of the other bikers, she'd need to wait. He had a use for her at the moment.

Tied up in club business, he hadn't touched a woman for twenty-four hours, and he needed to work off some steam.

"Go enjoy yourself, Curley." Priest moved the woman to his side, looped his arm across her shoulders, and hung his hand on her chest to cup her tit.

His gaze went back to the dancing woman. She kept swaying and moving as if she floated in her own time, her own beat, even though Metallica blared over the stereo speakers in the corners of the room.

The woman at his side turned and slid her hand inside his vest. He grabbed her wrist and snapped his gaze to her. "I never asked you to touch me."

She pouted. "I can make you feel good."

"All you need to do is stand there and look pretty." He pulled her back to his side, already losing interest in the hardened nipple pinched between his thumb and index finger. "Go find someone else."

The woman pouted and left his side.

Across the room, the lone woman stopped dancing and weaved through the crowd. Priest set the bottle of whiskey on a nearby table and parted the crowd, following her.

Roddy caught him at the door. "What's up, Prez?"

"You're done watching the new woman." He hitched his chin toward his shoulder. "That girl...damn, I still can't remember her name. The one with the fluorescent pink tube top. She's looking for company."

Roddy slapped Priest on the back. "Been there. Done that. I'll send a prospect toward her."

Going out the door, he scanned the newly asphalted parking lot and found the woman at the corner of the building. There was no one else around. Everyone was inside, enjoying themselves.

For the last several months, he made sure nobody hung around in front of the clubhouse because the cops had taken to patrolling the area heavier than normal.

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