Page 26 of Biker Daddies

Colt grimaces. “I don’t see why there can’t be a little hope. She’s a grown woman. She can make her own decisions.”

I pull out of the parking lot before Colt can say anything else, to get me thinking about a future with the wrong woman. I don’t want to drift off into a fantasy. I don’t want to dream about things I can’t have because men like me don’t have dreams.

We can’t want. We can’t have.

And I know if I had a taste of Harlow’s innocence, I’d want to drown in it, and I’d end up ruining her.

Just like I do everything else.

The thought just pisses me off. I want her. The more I convince myself I don’t, the more I do. My cock is pressing against my zipper and all I know is when I get to the clubhouse, I’m going to try to have a club whore get on her knees for me before church. Someone will. They’re always eager to suck a biker off.

Harsh words, but it’s true.

If I can’t have Harlow, I’ll have to settle for one of the whores.

With that thought, I crank the throttle and fly down the road. The sun is high and hot. The air is dry. To the left and right is nothing but miles of desert. A buzzard plucks at a dead animal on the side of the road, spreading its wings at us as we go by.

Right before Route 66 becomes long and unbearable, the compound is to the right. We toe the line of the law. We pay taxes by owning a few businesses in town. The club owns a mechanic shop, a bar, and a custom bike shop, the tattoo shop as well, and we even have our hands in a few casinos.

On the wrong side of the law? People pay us under the table to move merchandise and hire us for security.

“Bane.” The prospect, Dart, greets me as he guards the gate. “Where have y’all been?”

Alto’s bike crawls next to mine. He lifts a brow. “I know you’re not questioning us, prospect.”

“No, sir,” Dart rushes to say. “Just saying we missed you guys last night.”

“What we do isn’t your business, Dart,” Alto says, razzing Dart a bit. “Open the gate. We have church.”

Dart trips over his own two feet, trying to get to the button to swing the gate open.

I chuckle and the grumbles of our bikes become louder as we slowly roll into the paved parking lot of the Venom Vultures MC clubhouse. With a thumping heart, a tinge of guilt, and a lot of pent-up sexual tension and rage, I park my bike. Kicking the stand down, I jerk my helmet off and slam it on the seat.

“Damn, Bane. What’s got up your ass?”

I stop breathing when I hear Grizzly’s voice.

“You’re a grouch but you’re more pissed off today.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”Because I want your daughter more than I want revenge on a man who is already dead.

“Church in fifteen,” he tells me. “Don’t be late.”

“That’s plenty of time.” My steel-toed boots bang against the steps as I climb them, the wooden porch creaking under my weight.

“For?” Grizzly takes a step to the side to allow me inside.

“A whore,” I state bluntly.

No need to beat around the bush about it. Everyone else gets to indulge. Why can’t I?

Grizzly grabs my arm to stop me from going inside. “What’s wrong?” he asks me. “You can talk to me, Bane.”

I can’t and I won’t. I could never be that honest with him.

“It isn’t like you to sniff around the bunnies.”

Without saying another word, I gently pull myself from his hold, lifting a shoulder because I don’t know what to say. Grizzly knows I don’t…get around. I’ve had sex a few times throughout my life and I can count on one hand how many times I’ve gotten my cock sucked. No one wants to have sex with someone who looks like a freak.

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