Page 22 of Ox

The DiamondBacks’Clubhouse was about an hour’s ride from Kayla’s apartment. My Brother German usually did the meet-and-greets with new Clubs, but since I was in the area, Reaper, my Club Prez, had asked me to stop in and take the temperature of the new MC.

The DiamondBacks had only formed five years back, but they were doing some big sales in the game of gun-running and so it was important to get to know our competition.

Pulling up to the gates, I let their Prospect know who I was. Once he waved me through, I parked outside and made my way toward the porch. The Club’s Roadmaster, Creed, met me at the front door.

“They weren’t kidding when they said you were a huge motherfucker,” Creed said, shaking his head with a shit-eating grin spread across his face.

My eyes scanned the man over before I smiled back. “I’m not sure I’m so big,” I returned with a grin of my own. “I think the rest of you bastards are just too small.”

Creed slapped me on the back and ushered me inside into their AV room. “Fair enough.”

The warmth of the air was a shock to my system after such a long ride in the cold. Unzipping my coat, I glanced around the room and noted all the expensive media equipment around. Multiple plasma, big screened TVs. State of the art speaker system. Leather couches. This Club might be new, but they were definitely making bank. Something I was going to report back to my Prez as soon as I was done here.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Creed asked, reaching into a stainless steel fridge packed with booze, beer, soda, and various other drinks.

Tipping my chin in his direction, I said, “I’ll have the same.”

Creed tossed me the bottle and I caught it in my right hand. “How was the ride over?”

“Brisk,” I said, tossing my leather coat onto the back of the couch.

A few Club girls strolled into the room as though they’d been waiting for my arrival. Which, if I was a betting man, they were.

“Can’t control the weather, but I can offer you something other than a beer to warm your blood if you’re interested,” he smirked, indicating the three blondes who were smiling back at me.

“Maybe later,” I said dismissively, knowing I wasn’t ever going to take him up on that offer. Like it or not, there was only one blonde on my mind these days. And her curvy body, big tits, and sweet brown eyes were all I could think about.

“Suit yourself,” Creed said, settling down on the couch while the gaggle of blondes circled around him. Two on either side of him, one on his lap.

I didn’t know this guy from a hole in the wall, but he was young, cocky, and clearly enjoying the fruits of Club life. Don’t get me wrong, I could appreciate that. I’d been in his exact position when I’d joined the Devil’s Riders over a decade back. But I had no interest in hanging around this Club for any longer than was necessary. Since Ghost kept rearing his ugly head wherever Kayla went, I hated to be far from her in case he suddenly popped back up and she needed me.

One of the blondes began massaging the crotch of Creed’s jeans while the other two began making out with each other. Again, I loved debauchery as much as the next guy. Hell, I probably loved it more. Tag teaming two women was my go-to move. But I didn’t want to watch the live porno version of just another Saturday night at my Clubhouse play out in front of me right now. I was here to get the details about the DiamondBacks’ operation and then get the fuck out. And if Creed was getting his dick wet, he wasn’t going to be interested in talking Club business. Which meant I’d be here longer than I liked.

Creed whispered something into the ear of one of the women and she rose off the couch and got me another beer. Handing it to me, she smiled and took a seat beside me.

Wanting to move this along, I cracked the beer and said, “From what I hear, and see, your Club is moving up in the world.”

Shrugging, Creed wrapped his arm around the blonde to the left of him. “We’re doing okay.”

“You do a lot of business up north?” I posed, curious if we were competing for the same markets.

“We actually do most of our sales down south,” he returned, letting me know Mexico was where they were earning the bulk of their wealth.

I wasn’t surprised. The cartels south of the border had an endless desire for weaponry of all kinds. Even if our Club was a hundred times the size it was now, we’d never be able to supply their voracious appetites. And a startup Club like the DiamondBacks would be like a drop of water in the whole ocean in regards to feeding that constant need.

The blonde to Creed’s right, unsatisfied with the attention he was showing to his other companion, unzipped his jeans and threaded her fingers through the opening slit.

Adjusting himself so she had better access to what lay within, Creed took a sip of his beer. “They sure do love their ARs down south. Can’t say I blame them. I enjoy them myself.”

Getting more ambitious, the blonde to his right began to pump his shaft and lick her lips at the thought of getting it between her greedy lips. The blonde sitting next to me grew bolder and began petting my leg.

“You serve in the military?” I asked, curious if he was like most of my Brothers, or if he was just fan boying over the military lifestyle.

“Nah,” Creed said, hitching in a breath when the blonde worked up the courage to swallow his dick down like she was in a hot dog eating contest. The second blonde, wanting in on theaction, began kissing Creed’s neck while fondling his balls. “How ‘bout you?”

“Nope. Though half my damn Club came directly from the Marines,” I said with a snort.

The blonde next to me was practically in my lap at this point. Her hand was at the top of my thigh, kneading it in time to the girl sucking off Creed.

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