Page 20 of Inflame Me
I stare at her, stunned. “What in the hell is biker hard?”
Princess motions for me to come back over to the bar. I follow and jump up on the stool. “Biker hard …” She sits there in seriously deep contemplation.
“Is it that hard to describe?”
“For me, kinda. I’ve grown up in this life; it’s all I know. Someone from the outside more than likely won’t see things the way we do. It’s hard to explain.” Princess grabs her beer and takes a long pull from it.
I say nothing, because what can I say? I have no idea, and if she can’t explain it when she’s lived it, how in the hell am I going to figure it out?
“Let’s do an easy one.” Princess points to the corner of the room, my eyes following her finger. “What do you see?”
“Uh … Three women sitting on the couch with practically no clothes on.” Well, really, no clothes. What they have are small scraps of fabric that cover their nipples and other lady parts. Damn, I would never wear something like that out in public and around all these guys.
“Those are club mommas.”
I turn back to her. “Club mommas?”
“Yep. Free pussy.” I gasp at the thought. “They give it up to whomever, whenever, and however. Any brother, that is.”
“They do what?” I pause. “Like prostitutes?” I’ve never been around one. Sure, I’ve seen movies and seen it depicted on television, but never actually met one. I’m not a prude by any means, but really?
“No, not prostitutes. Those girls don’t get paid.”
“Then why do they do it?” At least get paid for it.
“To be part of the club. They aren’t really, but it’s the closest they are ever going to get. They put their pussy out there for all the guys, so they get a spot on that couch and protection, but if they bring any bad shit to the club, they’re out,” Princess explains.
“Is that what you are?”
Princess sucks in a deep breath and waves pulsate off her. I immediately feel like a heel. Me and my stupid big mouth.
Dagger chuckles. “Nope, Princess won’t give up that pretty pussy to anyone but Cruz. It’s a damn shame.” I still at his words, and Princess must see it.
“You’re freaking your kid out, Dagger,” she tells him, shaking her head, but a smile graces her face.
“I am who I am, Princess.” And I’m totally getting that vibe from him. It seems like every man here is who he is and makes no changes for anyone.Okay, Tanner, welcome to biker world.
“No, Tanner, I’m not a club momma. I’m an ol’ lady.” I really need to brush up on this shit, because if I ever called my mother an old lady, she would tan my hide.
“I need another beer,” Princess murmurs before going to get one and coming back. “An ol’ lady is one of the brothers’ women.” She turns around, showing me the back of her leather vest. It says ‘Property of Cruz.’
“Property?” I question.
“Yep. I’m his. In our relationship, it also means that he’s mine. We are committed to one another and no one else. He doesn’t screw around with other women, and I don’t screw around with other men. It’s like marriage, biker style.” She twirls the bottle as I take in the information, my mind racing at all the thoughts circling it, starting to put the pieces together. “I only wear this when I’m here at the club with the brothers or with my man. There are rules to wearing it.”
“So some ‘brothers’ ”—I kind of stumble on that word a bit—“have ol’ ladies and still have other women?”
“Yep. If both parties agree to the scenario, then that’s what it is.”
I again try to wrap my head around this information. I guess it wouldn’t be cheating if they both agree to it, but who would? Who would allow their significant other to be with someone else? I look over to the women still sitting on the couch. I could never allow my guy to do that shit to me. It’s not even on my radar.
“I’m sure I couldn’t do that. So how does that work? With you and them here in the same space?”
“It gets tricky at times, especially if one of the brothers is getting it on the side, and the ol’ lady doesn’t know. One thing you gotta know about the club is that the club and brothers come first. It doesn’t matter what situation it is; those two things are always first.”
It seems very stonage-ish, but I keep that to myself. Who the hell am I to say anything? I have no clue. I have no reason to judge. If this is my father’s life, then it is. It also doesn’t mean that my mother and I need to be part of it.
“It’s just a lot to take in.”
