Page 8 of Savage Spades

“Time to go,” he told the blonde, untangling himself from her naked body. His dick was hard as a rock, but there wasn’t time to have another go around.

She groaned and opened one eye. “What time is it?”

He grabbed his phone that lay on the nightstand, sandwiched between empty beer bottles. “Past noon.”

The bed creaked as he moved to sit on the edge. Bending down, he grabbed his sweatpants off the floor and pulled them on. There were a good amount of cars at the shop today. If he had been thinking last night, he would’ve left that bar earlier and gone to bed so he could get up early to start working on them. But instead, he’d stayed there, drinking with his brothers until the place closed. He was hoping he’d get another look at the owner. Cam. That’s her name…at least he thinks that’s what he heard the bartender call her.

The bed shifted again as the blonde sat up. Kit turned his head as the comforter fell away from her body. Her tits were huge with nipples so hard they could cut glass. He wished he hadn’t been so drunk so he could remember what they’d felt like in his hands.

“Like what you see?” she asked.

If he jumped back into bed, she probably wouldn’t hesitate to climb on top and ride him. Like most women hanging around the club, she was desperate. That was fine with him.

“Stick around the clubhouse. I might need some company tonight,” he said, keeping it vague in case he changed his mind. He had a fight tonight, so depending on how it went, he might be too sore to fuck.

She stuck her lip out in a pout but got up from the bed before gathering her clothes off the floor. Instead of waiting for her to leave, he walked into the en suite bathroom and got in the shower.

The warm water washed away his morning grogginess. He should be hungover with how much he drank last night, but his tolerance was pretty high. He’d probably inherited his tolerance from his alcoholic father. He exited the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist before walking back into his bedroom.

The blonde was gone. In her place, in the center of the bed, was a piece of paper. Her phone number was scrawled on it in loopy handwriting. He shook his head and got dressed for the day.

The clubhouse was empty as he walked through it. His brothers were all probably at work. He squinted at the bright sun as he walked outside and made his way to the shop. Technically, Kit owned the shop, but everyone who knew anything about cars helped out. The shop wasn’t attached to the clubhouse, but it might as well be since it was so close.

“Finally, that crazy bitch called twice today already,” Jett said, his legs sticking out from under a Honda he was working on in the garage.

Kit sighed. “I’ll have it done soon. We should have gotten the new alternator in this morning. I can get it installed in a minute.” He stood next to the car as Jett rolled out from underneath it. Jett helped out at the shop the most, which Kit was grateful for. Unfortunately, for his customers, Kit didn’t work on anybody else’s time. He got his work done when he got it done. Sometimes, he’d be working on cars until two o’clock in the morning and sometimes he didn’t open until the afternoon. He had decided if he was going to own his own business, he was going to do it his way. Especially considering how many times he’d gotten his ass beat in order to raise the money to open the place.

“How was Jessica last night?” Jett asked as he stood up and dusted off his pants.

“Who?”

Jett chuckled. “Jessica. The one you took back to your room last night. Fuck, you didn’t even know her name did you?”

Kit ignored him and walked into the lobby. Jett followed behind him.

“She’s hot and isn’t trashy like those other club sluts,” Jett said.

Brown packages were stacked on the receptionist’s desk. Kit pulled out his pocket knife and started to open them up, hoping to find the alternator he needed.

“Seemed just as desperate to me,” Kit said to Jett.

“Nah, I think she’s different.”

“Then give it a go.”

Jett leaned against the desk. “Are you going to the bar tonight?”

“Nah, I got a fight,” he said. He found the box with the alternator and pulled it out.

“Oh shit, I forgot about that. I was going to put some money down.”

“You still got time. Tony is usually taking bets until right before the fight.”

The desk phone rang, and Jett walked off. “I’m not dealing with that redheaded bitch again.”

Kit flipped him the bird before sitting down in the office chair and picked up the phone. “Ms. Granger, we have your ca…”

“Kit?”

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