Page 25 of Taken By the Biker Daddies

I frowned. “And why aren’tyouthe one bringing her home?”

“Because I have some business to attend to.”

“Late-night tattoo business or Black Storm business?”

Jake slipped on a glove. “Personal business.”

In other words, none of mine.

When he was done putting his gloves on, he grabbed the keys to Billie’s pickup truck from the peg on the wall and tossed them to me. “And now, Lauren’s yours.”

Without another word, he headed toward the door, helmet under his arm.

“Where’s Jake going?” Randy asked, leaning on the counter as he handed George a drink.

I shrugged. “Beats me.”

I was still wondering about that myself. Jake wasn’t a lone wolf. That was more like me. Yes, he could spend hours by himself in his garage, and I knew there were many things he kept to himself, but he cared about others. He liked looking after other people. And he liked getting things done with them. So why was he ditching Lauren and going off on his own all of a sudden?

I looked at George. “Do you know?”

He put his hands up. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know what the boss is up to either. All I know is that he arrived here with Lauren a few hours ago, and that he hasn’t had a single drop of liquor.”

That meant his business was serious, which made it all the more suspicious that he hadn’t asked for help.

“She, on the other hand, has been drinking ever since she got here.” George pointed his chin at Lauren.

I looked at her and frowned. No wonder she was flirting with all the guys. She had moved to another table, practically bent over it with her butt sticking out, her denim shorts riding up her thighs.

What would she do if I bent her over a table, slapped her ass, and fucked her silly from behind?

Yes, watching the expression on her face while burying my cock inside her would be thrilling, but taking her from behind could have its own perks, too, like allowing me to go deeper inside her, to play with her breasts, and to grab her hair or her arms and take full control…

“So, that’s Lauren?” Randy disrupted my fantasy, and at the right time, too. Another second more, and I could have embarrassed myself with a hard-on.

Seriously, that woman had a way of fucking me up in the head.

“Yeah,” I answered Randy’s question as I faced the bar.

I signaled to George to give me a can of soda, gulping down about a third of it before stopping in hopes of calming myself down but to little effect. Fuck. I could use some whiskey right now.

“Is she Jake’s girlfriend?” Randy asked next.

“No. She’s living with us at Jake’s house, but she’s Max’s girlfriend.”

Which is precisely why I should quit having fucking fantasies about her.

Fucking get it together, soldier.

“And where is Max?” George asked.

Good question. He should be here looking after his drunk girlfriend.

I took another sip of my soda. “Max left town before lunch.”

On personal business. That seemed to be the theme of the day.

George placed the drinks he had mixed on a tray. Randy was about to pick it up but stopped.

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