I chuckled, thinking about Becky bend over my desk as I railed her from behind. “Bitches like me. What can I say?”
Dread, the club’s treasurer, let out a deep laugh, shaking his head. “Ain’t about likin’ you. Them bitches just wanna be able to say they got fucked by a Saint.”
“Either way, they keep coming back,” I shrugged, taking another swig of my beer.
“It’s all fun and games until one of them bitches turns into a stage four clinger.” Truer words, but still.
“Hate the player, not the game.” I taunted as I grabbed a dart from the table.
Killer grinned. “So you say until you end up with your tires slashed.”
I barked out a laugh, shaking my head.
Hell to the no.
That was Morpheus’ gig. The VP had a bad habit of fucking crazy bitches who thought a roll in the sheets was about more than getting off.
The bitches I banged knew the score.
Lifting my beer to my lips, I scanned the room and spotted Chief coming out of his office with a curvy brunette right behind him, wiping her mouth as he zipped up his fly.
I smirked into my bottle.
Since divorcing Tonya the Succubus last year, Prez has been fucking anything that moves. Not that anyone could blame him. Tonya was a frigid bitch.
“What’s got you assholes laughing so hard?” The man himself asked, reaching for the pitcher in the center of the table and pouring himself a glass.
I grinned, settling back in my chair. “Just thinking about the time that crazy bitch who worked at Heaven’s Door slashed Morpheus’s tires.”
Chief raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Oh yeah, that was a fucking mess.”
A mess? That was putting it lightly.
Killer grunted. “She was hot, but damn, was she fucking nuts.”
Our VP had a thing for strippers. Actually, that wasn’t entirely true. He had a thing for women with long legs and big tits. The shaking their ass part didn’t really matter.
Reign snorted. “Aye, Calista was her name. I’ll never forget it.”
I snorted. None of us would. Morph banged Calista in the office on a Friday night. The next night he’d set his sights on a different dancer and Calista went all Carrie Underwood on his ass, slashing his tires and taking a crowbar to his brand new paint job.
Chief let out a deep laugh. “He was pissed as hell. Tried to find her, but she took off. Pretty sure she moved to Texas.”
I took a swig of my beer, shaking my head. “Morpheus has a fucking type.”
Dread nodded. “Yeah, his type is bat shit crazy.”
Chief leaned back in his chair, his expression shifting from amusement to serious. “Speaking of crazy, we need to discuss what happened this afternoon.”
Killer straightened up, and Reign’s laughter faded. I set my beer down, giving Chief my full attention.
“Zero pulled some footage,” Chief continued. “They’re definitely the group that was out by the docks.”
Killer’s eyes narrowed. “We any closer to finding out who they are?”
Chief released a long sigh. “Not yet. Zero’s still digging.”
I wasn’t concerned. He’d find something soon.