Page 60 of Gunner

“Rum and coke?” He nodded and moved away to make my drink.

A big, bald man sat down next to me. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, leaving me no other option than to pretend he wasn’t there.

Unfortunately, he didn’t like that option.

“You Gunner’s old lady?” he asked. His voice was gravelly, but not in that sexy way.

More like he chewed rocks for a snack.

“No.”

“So, what are you twenty-four, twenty-five?” I could feel his eyes on me, and I prayed the prospect came back soon.

“Twenty-eight.”

“Still under thirty. I bet you’re still tight like a teenager.”

“Excuse me?” I turned a glare on the man. On his cut I saw the name Freeway with Little Rock over it and member under it. I assumed he was visiting. And he wasn’t important. I had done my research into the hierarchy of clubs. It all fascinated me.

So, I knew that while none of their alpha male egos wanted to be knocked down by a woman, seeing as he was only a member, I had the right to defend myself. Not that if he was an officer, I wouldn’t still defend myself, but I needed to be here for Aspen, so I needed to be careful.

“Over thirty and a girl’s cunt gets all loose and worn out. Too many cocks in and out of it. Know what I mean?” He took a drink from the beer bottle he held in his hand, and I had the strongest urge to grab it and slam it over his head.

“That’s because your fucking pecker is too small. Like pushing a pencil through a toilet paper roll. Get the fuck out of here.”

I turned to look at the man who spoke.

He was older, maybe fifty, but handsome. He wasn’t wearing a cut, so I wasn’t sure what his role here was.

“Who the fuck are you to talk to me like that?” Freeway stood toe to toe with the man. They were roughly the same height, but Freeway looked like he had fifty pounds on the handsome guy.

“You ain’t a fucking member of this club. You don’t talk to a patched member like that and still get to stand.”

“You’re right,” the man agreed. “I’m not a member of this club. I’m a fucking Soulless Sinner.”

Freeway visibly gulped, and I sat there in awe.

This was interesting.

I wondered what a Soulless Sinner was.

“I... uh... didn’t know. Sorry.” Freeway took his beer and walked to the other side of the room. He sat on the couch and glared at the man he’d just backed down from.

“I believe this is yours.” He moved my glass closer. The prospect must have dropped it off during the exchange. “Let me apologize for that. I don’t know who he is, but he isn’t like the other brothers here.”

“I would venture to say you aren’t either.” I took a sip of my drink, hoping it would help calm my nerves. No one had ever spoken in such a vulgar way to me before.

“Not that different, actually. Prospect, whiskey.”

“Um,” the kid stuttered.

The man glared at him and hissed, “Hell’s Breath. Now.”

“Yes, sir.”

“That wasn’t nice,” I chastised him with a smile.

“Everyone thinks I have a fucking drinking problem. I’m a goddamn doctor who is good at what he does. Drinking when I’m not working doesn’t make me a drunk.”

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