Page 2 of Biker

She’s smart for not saying anything more before she turns on her heel and walks over to where some of my brothers are lounging on the main room’s couches. She plops right onto Demon’s lap before looking back at me and sneering.

I don’t bother hiding my amusement this time and bark out a loud laugh. Demon, one of the club’s enforcers, looks over at me and arches an eyebrow in question. I shake my head and he shrugs it off before he pushes a hand between Cherry’s legs and starts to play with her pussy.

I turn my back on the scene. Not because it bothers me, he can have her; hell, the rest of my brothers already have. I just don’t want to see it because it reminds me that I’ve been with her and while I’m not ashamed of my past, it does make my gut clench in a way it never did before I went to New Orleans.

Now, it all feels wrong.

I saw how an angel caused some drama between Prodigal and his woman. I don’t want the same kind of thing to happen here. I sure as fuck won’t tolerate it, just like Prodigal didn’t. I know my brothers would have my back if shit went down, whether it involves a club angel or not.

Fuck.

What the fuck am I even thinking? It’s not like I have a woman to be worried about.

Not yet, but you could. Soon.

Spark, my Prez, slides onto the stool next to me and gives a chin lift to Sam who hastily gets the man a beer. “Cherry didn’t look too pleased,” Spark comments as he brings his beer up to take a sip.

It might sound like he’s admonishing me, but his eyes are filled with amusement. I shrug one shoulder and tip my beer up as well.

“She needs to know her place,” I almost spit out the words, knowing full well Spark won’t take it as a sign of disrespect.

Spark grew up in this life. His dad, Purgatory, was Prez before him, but right now he and his old lady, Nina, are out driving around the country in a fucking RV. I don’t know how the woman convinced him to do it, but I’m also not surprised. Purgatory would give Nina the fucking world on a platter if she asked for it.

The worst part of them being away from the clubhouse is that we no longer have a mom figure around here. We don’t necessarily need one, but having a woman who isn’t always trying to ride your dick is nice. The angels can’t really cook for shit either.

There aren’t old ladies in the mix right now and you can feel it within the clubhouse walls. There are a few old timers who have old ladies, but they don’t come around like they used to. It feels like part of the heart of the club is missing because of the lack of old ladies. Some of the brothers might not care, but I do and I’m not the only one.

Spark looks over his shoulder before looking at me and smirking. I don’t need to look; I can hear her fake as fuck moans from here. “Looks like she knows her place.”

“Asking about New Orleans and being jealous at the thought of me hooking up with an angel down there sure as shit isn’t her place,” I point out to him.

“True enough,” he agrees with a nod and looks straight ahead at the bar while we drink our beers.

When I motion for another one, Spark does the same, and the silence stretches between us. After we have a fresh one in front of us, he speaks again, his voice quiet, “You seem a little lost, brother. Want to talk about it?”

There are a lot of reasons I respect the fuck out of my president and one of them is that he doesn’t put your shit out there for everyone and is always thinking about his brothers and the club. It wasn’t a guarantee that he would sit at the head of the table just because of who his dad is. He earned his spot, just like the rest of us.

I glance at Sam who is busy grabbing some drinks for the rest of my brothers scattered throughout the room. He’ll be earning his place beside us soon. Nothing in this life is given for free. Maybe I’m a selfish bastard because I want something to be just mine, a softness that can be a place of peace.

I would have laughed in the face of anyone who said I wanted that a few years ago, but here I am, losing my fucking man card by the second.

“Think I need a change, Prez,” I tell him honestly. When I glance at him, his face is neutral, not giving a damn thing away about what I’ve just said. “Not the club, though, the club is the only constant I have and I’m grateful as fuck for it.”

“Never thought you were talking about the club.”

I nod and finish off my beer and he doesn’t push me for more; just another reason to respect the man. I know I need to get out of my head, get out of my thoughts. I’ll also need to head home soon. Brutus, my black Great Dane, will be waiting for me.

I knock on the top of the bar and give my president a chin lift before I head to my room in the clubhouse. The moment I close the door behind me, I’m pulling the card out of my pocket and pulling up the website.

I do need a change and I might as well give this a shot. Who the hell knows what will come of it. It might be nothing.

It might be everything.

CHAPTER 2

McKENZIE

This bar isn’t quite my scene, yet here I am. How the hell did I even get here? Why did I think this was a good idea? I’m a librarian; should I really be in a bar called Sacrifice’s Altar? All to meet a man I’ve been paired with through a matchmaking agency?

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