Page 25 of Stealing the Biker

Kiesha giggles from across the room.

I should be focused on what I’m going to do to win Sabrina back and yet the only thing on my mind is the addictive taste of Kiesha’s lips and how good it felt when she was in my arms. I shake my head and grip my bottle of Bud.

“Hey. Look what I got,” Kiesha drops down into the opposite side of the booth, nearly choking the life out of a kitten. “You can’t be down in the dumps in the presence of a kitten.”

“I’m all right.”

“That was…intense. Are you okay?”

“Don’t worry about it. That was nothing. She’ll get over it.”

“It didn’t look or sound like nothing.”

“I don’t want to talk about Sabrina.”

“So we can talk about my boy troubles, but not your girlfriend. Got it.”

“Don’t be cute. I’m really not good company right now.”

“Peach doesn’t want you to be sad.” She places the dirty cat on the table.

“What kind of name is Peach?”

“She looks like a Princess Peach.”

“Don’t you dare name him that.”

She puts her hands over the kitten’s ears. “It’s not a boy. It doesn’t have any balls.”

“Is it even old enough to have any?” I crack a smile and try to pretend that I didn’t just completely fuck things up with Sabrina.

“Kiesha,” her mom calls her over.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” She looks hopeful.

“Sure.”

“I hope you don’t regret earlier. I know it didn’t mean anything, but for the record, it was nice and took my mind off stuff.”

“You’re a great kisser, even for a brat,” I tease her, not having the sense or strength to tell her that it won’t happen again. Her cheeks bloom pink as she saunters toward the exit.

Crawl belches and slaps his palm on the table. “If I win, you’ve gotta show me your tits.”

“And if you lose, what do I get?” Angel, one of the whores who hangs around the clubhouse, coos at him.

“What do you want?”

“Hmm. Let me think.” She taps a finger to her chin. She’s a busty blonde who gets around and has no problem dropping to her knees for the members of the club.

I should have gone back to Trenton’s while I was still sober enough to drive. Instead, I got roped into playing cards with Crawl, Creed, and Angel. I already regret my decision to stay for the game.

Kiesha stopped replying to my texts about an hour ago. I guess it’s past her bedtime. I at least managed to convince her to name the kitten Fireball instead of fucking Peach. Sabrina isn’t even bothering to read any of the messages I’ve sent her. I push up from my chair, bumping the table with my knee, knocking over Creed’s beer.

“Wh-wh where you going, Prospect. No one said you get to quit.”

“I’m calling it a night.”

“The fuck you are. Drop to the floor and give me ten pushups.” Crawl laughs.

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