Page 33 of Target

“Oh, fuck no. I do not want to know how my brother likes to fuck.” She laughs, then rummages around in her large purse for a hair tie and pulls a mass of black hair into what Ruth calls a messy bun.

“Target, honey, I am a big girl, and I like sex as much as the next person. You can ask Maddy; I am never one to settle down. I am enjoying my life right now, my business is booming, I have my bestie at my side, and she is maybe going to get laid soon.” She winks.

“I am working on it.” I grin back.

“Life is too fucking short to wait around for people to tell me what I am doing wrong. If I am not hurting anyone and it is not illegal, I can do whatever the hell I want. I am happy, and I want my bestie happy, but—” she pauses for dramatic effect.

I arch a brow at her, waiting for her to throw out her warning.

“Madalyn has been through some shit in her life, and I am trusting you not to add to it and since you belong to a fucking MC, well let’s just say we know the ways. Now my girl is the best person I know, she is sweet, kind, and will do anything for anyone, so Target? Do not take advantage of her, or so help me biker boy, I will take great pleasure in making your balls black and blue. Along with scratching up that very sexy bike that you ride.” She gives me a finger wave. “Tootles.” And leaves.

Shaking my head with a grin, I watch her climb into her car, and drive off, pop music blasting from the speakers.

“Fuck, that woman is hot and feisty.” Logan step to me I nod.

“She is, but she does not hold a candle to my woman.”

“Does Madalyn know she is your woman yet?” He grins.

Winking, I reply, “Nope, but she will soon enough.”

I leave him to do his job and head inside to get into the air conditioned clubhouse, plus my stomach is grumbling, reminding that I have not eaten since breakfast. Darian’s words float around in my head, and the part about them knowing MC ways, something feels off with that.

Some of the brothers are chilling, taking a break from working, or doing runs for the club. We may not be a one percenter club, but we are not exactly always on the right side of the law.

We deal in security, and helping people vanish. The law may not agree to that but fuck, women, children, and even some men need help getting away from a toxic situation and we help them.

It was Finan who started this side to the club business, after his daughter was taken, and the club learned that it was happening more and more, but flying under the cops’ radar.

The Rugged Hunters hunt sick fucks, and pricks who like to hurt others but they also team up with Rugged Security Solutions, aka RSS, who help people in ways that the law cannot.

Stepping into the kitchen, I see Racer sitting at the table, one of the club girls on her knees, sucking his dick.

“Pres,” I greet, walking to the refrigerator.

Nothing unusual to what I am witnessing; we are in a biker clubhouse, and believe me no fucker is shy around here.

“VP,” he grunts, gripping the back of the chick’s head, holding her while he comes down her throat. “Thanks, darlin’,” he states, already tucking himself away.

She gets to her feet, licking her lips, then grins at me. I wink at her, and watch as she leaves, shaking my head.

“When the fuck did the new club girls get so fucking young, brother?” I ask on a chuckle.

“She is twenty-three, brother. It is just that we are old as fuck now. Both closing in on forty, but feeling a hundred and forty.”

I collect items that I need to make a BLT.

“Make me one, will ya? Plus, she is not a club girl. She needed a tow, I was in the rig, and she offered to suck my cock as payment.” He smirks, looking proud.

“You dirty bastard.” We laugh.

Racer is a fair president, and Tank chose well with him. He likes to keep his feelings and his past locked up tighter than a nun’s asshole. I know he has some chick that he thinks about from his youthful days, but that was only because he got drunk as fuck at a party and blurted out that we should just fuck pussy for the rest of our lives because once we give a woman our hearts, they take it and run.

When I quizzed him on it the next morning, he sucker punched me in the gut and told me not to ask about it again. Not only does he not talk about his past women issues, but he has a current one who is a huge fucking toxic cunt, of an ex-wife.

“I like pussy, brother, you know that.”

“Me too, but my balls are blue as fuck these days.” I make our food.

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