Page 18 of Rambler's Snow Bunny
I shrug, biting into a piece of bacon. “She’s alright.”
“Alright?” Cleo laughs, the sound bright and genuine. “You just pulled her onto your lap and kissed her in front of everyone like a caveman claiming his woman. That says you think she’s more than just alright.”
Crazy Train wraps his arm around her shoulders. “Leave him alone, Pebbles.”
“I’m just saying,” Cleo continues, ignoring her old man. “It’s nice to see him interested in someone. He’s usually so... grumpy.”
“Grumpy?” I grunt.
“Yes. Grumpy!” She winks at me.
Demi giggles against Klutch’s chest. “She’s not wrong.”
Klutch grins. “Rambler’s always been a grumpy bastard.”
“I’m sitting right here,” I mutter.
“We know,” Morpheus says, slapping me on the back. “That’s what makes it fun.”
I shake my head and go back to finishing my breakfast. The eggs are good—fluffy and seasoned just right. The bacon is crispy. The toast is buttered. I polish off the whole plate in record time.
Just as I’m draining the last of my coffee, Pinky comes bouncing down the stairs.
“Holy fuck.”
My jaw nearly hits the floor.
She’s wearing black leather pants that hug her short, skinny legs like a second skin. They’re tight in all the right places, showing off the curve of her ass and the line of her thighs. My eyes rake farther down and?—
Are those heels?
They sure as shit are.
Black stilettos with hot pink soles that make her legs look a mile long.
Fuck me.
I want her wearing nothing but those sexy shoes when I fuck her again.
“You look hot as shit, butterfly,” I say when she reaches the table.
She does a little spin, the heels clicking on the floor. “You think so?”
“I think you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”
She laughs, and the sound goes straight to my dick. “Got my helmet too,” she says, shaking the black and pink helmet in her hands.
Cleo claps her hands together. “Oh my God, you look amazing! I love those pants.”
“Thanks!” Pinky beams. “I got them at the Harley store a few months ago. This is the first time I’m getting to wear them.”
“They’re perfect,” Demi says with a shy smile.
Chief whistles from across the room, the sharp sound cutting through the chatter. “Time to head out, motherfuckers!”
“Ready, baby?” I stand and hold out my hand.
She takes it, her small fingers wrapping around mine. “Yep.”
