Page 7 of Loch
“Hear you’re heading out at the end of the week,” Stone said before taking a swig of his beer.
“Yeah, Diesel is gettin’ restless again. Looks like I’m playin’ dad for the weekend.” I poured myself another shot, deciding that it should be my last for the moment.
“Guess it’s about that time for him, huh? What’s it been, like two weeks since he took off for the mountains for a few days in search of some new tail?” Stone said, then huffed a laugh.
Diesel wasn’t one to sit still. He got restless even after rotating through the four or five club girls we had around. Sometimes he would be lucky enough to pick up one of the townies who hadn’t had a go-round with him. But for the most part, there wasn’t anything exciting left around here.
“Don’t think that boy is ever gonna be like you,” I said, giving him a pointed look.
Stone was a few years older than me. He met Melody seven years back at a club get together up in Tennessee. The moment he saw her, he was done for. And ever since then, it was like no other woman existed. Sure, they fought. And when they did, the whole club knew about it. Sometimes it could get downright loud and nasty. The thing I didn’t get was their fights were very rarely about anything big. They were perfect for one another. You could see their love ever times they looked at each other. But every now and then the weeds needed to be pulled so you could see the beauty of the garden. Fighting was their weeds; the little things that added up on an everyday basis. Then they were plucked out and the flowers were able to grow again.
“Oh, it will happen to him,” he said, sounding downright sure of it. “And I hope I have a front row seat to laugh at his dumb ass.” To that, we both laughed.
“That’ll be the day...”
“And what about you?” He gave me a look and a raised brow as he took another swig of his beer, his eyes remained locked onto mine.
“Nah, too old and set in my ways. Plus, I like my quiet time,” I replied waving him off.
“You ain’t that old. Just you wait. When you least expect it, brother.” He tipped his beer to me and walked off to join the others around the pool table. I shook my head to myself, trying hard to think of anything but Reagan’s beautiful smile and all the things it did to me.
The next night I had planned on working at the bar alone. Wednesdays were never busy. Also, I wanted to give Chris another day off to recover from whatever sickness he had. I sure as shit didn’t want to catch it. But for some unknown reason, I told Reagan to come back. Now it was going to be her and me, and more than likely a very frustrating night.
While part of me wanted to be near her and learn things about her, the other, and rational, part of me knew it was all wrong. The best thing would be for me to lock myself up in my office. I had no doubt that she would be able to handle the bar all on her own. It wasn’t complicated work, and she had done it before. Smile, serve, repeat. Hell, I didn’t even care if she smiled. Easy.
The next night when she came rushing in, face flushed red, and trying to tame her frizzy hair, I raised an eyebrow in question. After she wrangled her hair into some huge knotted mess on top of her head, she sighed and shook her head at me. It was like she was telling me not to ask. But, being that she had started to get under my skin, I couldn’t let it go.
“What’s wrong? And don’t give me that nothin’ shit. I’m not gonna buy it.” I leaned back against the bar and folded my arms across my chest. She cut her eyes at me as she grabbed a clean glass from under the bar then filled it up with water. I waited patiently as she downed the whole thing in a matter of seconds. I couldn’t help but watch her throat delicately bob with each swallow. I had to bite the inside of my cheek as she threw her head back, draining the last little bit. My mind flooded with thoughts I didn’t need to be thinking. Thoughts that shot straight down to my stirring cock.
“Stupid air conditioning in my car crapped out on me,” she finally said. She pinched the front of her shirt and fanned it in an attempt to get some air flow between her sticky skin and wet shirt.
It was then that I took notice what she was wearing. And Holy hell. Couldn’t say that money didn’t go to good use. However, I wished I was the only one that got to see her in it. A spark of jealousy shot through me at the thought of my brothers coming in later. I suddenly wanted to shut the damn bar down.
Her t-shirt was fitted, but not too tight. The V in the front dipped low and I could see a hint of black lace from the top of her bra poking out over the dark rust color. I knew if she bent over the shirt was loose enough that I would be able to see straight down it. My jaw clenched thinking about how many times she would have to lean over to serve people. If I thought the shorts yesterday were bad enough, it was nothing compared to the tight ones she was in now. The deep blue stretchy fabric covered nothing below her ass cheeks. Her long, toned legs were bare. She was wearing a pair of fucking ankle length, harness style, motorcycle boots. The chunky kind, with a low heel. A shorter, smaller version of the ones that, like myself, half of the brothers wore.
It was at that moment I wanted to throw her over my shoulder. Then plant her ass on the back of my bike, take her home, and fuck her until she couldn’t scream my name anymore.
Clenching my jaw again, I closed my eyes trying to remember what she had just told me. Her A/C. Not working. The jangling sound of her metal bracelets shifting brought me back to reality and I opened my eyes.
“Give me your keys,” I said, holding out my hand. She looked up at me skeptical for a moment before finally placing them in my palm. Her fingers grazed over mine as she pulled her hand away. They were soft and I wondered how they would feel running down my hard body. I turned on my heel and headed into the office. I needed to get away from her as soon as possible.
“You know, my car is in the other direction,” she yelled out behind me, humor resonating in her voice.
I shut the door and sent a text to one of the prospects to come pick up her car. Then I sent a text to Diesel telling him I needed someone to fix it. I knew a couple of the guys would be hanging around the garage in back of the compound. More than likely they were goofing around than working on something. Now they would have something to do, and I would make sure they would get it done by the end of the night.
I leaned against the edge of my desk, trying to figure out the mystery that was Reagan. Her outfit stopped me dead in my tracks, that was for sure. Thinking about those tight shorts had me reaching down to adjust myself. But there was something more to it. Even in the short time I’d known her, I picked up on it.
She seemed to be a professional chameleon. Changing and adapting to the situation around her with ease. But, she did it on her own terms. The thing was, most women I’d known would have worn something closer to what a stripper would wear. Shoes that looked like they would break an ankle. And shirts that were so shredded they didn’t cover anything. Add in a push-up bra that hiked their tits up right under their neck and you would have the typical club girl. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t one to complain about that look. But Reagan obviously wasn’t that type of woman, and she wasn’t about to put herself down just to fit in. While her outfit was practical, it was still sexy as hell. It made me want her even more. It also made me wonder where she learned to do it so well. What in her life made her become the girl who, in just a short glance, was able to read the environment around her and change her colors to blend in?
I walked out of the office not even ten minutes later. Reagan was behind the bar, wiping it down aimlessly. I felt her eyes on me the whole time, but I acted like I was unaffected by it. I met Brandon outside. He was with Diesel and Bocca yesterday when Reagan walked into the bar. I was sure he was well aware that I was handing him the keys to Reagan’s car. Being that it was the only one parked out front when they’d left yesterday, I was sure he took notice. He got off his bike and walked over to me. I dropped the keys in his hand. He looked at me, then the car, then back to me. With tight lips, and a firm nod he got into the car and drove away.
That was why I liked the kid. He kept his mouth shut and, for the most part, head down. He had been prospecting just shy of a year and I knew he would be patched-in soon. I had no doubt about him and I wouldn’t doubt that the other brothers felt the same. It helped a great deal that he was an aspiring tattoo artist. His work was good. Best I’d seen in awhile. We were working on making one of the empty rooms in the clubhouse a permanent place for him to ink. But he didn’t know it yet. Kid had talent, and if he wasn’t stuck in this shit hole of a town, he could go places and be big.
I walked back inside and the door closed with a loud thud behind me. Reagan wasn’t standing behind the bar anymore. I searched the room and saw her bent over one of the tables, wiping it down. Her ass was threatening to spill out of her shorts. Her legs spread wide. I ground my teeth at the thoughts of ripping those shorts off and sliding inside her from behind. Her body stiffened a little like she sensed I was watching her. After a few long seconds, she slowly stood up and turned towards me.
“We going to play this game of how long it’ll take you to say something to me all night?” She cocked her hip and propped her hand on it. A smirk spread on my lips. Her pissed off stare made me chuckle on the inside. She rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine. Then at least tell me what you are doing with my keys?”
“Fixin’ your problem,” I said.
