Page 42 of Biker Daddies

She deserves more.

I pick up my tattoo gun, but Harlow, the minx, slides her hands down her body, cupping her tits before slipping her hand under her panties.

“Fine, then I’ll do it myself.” Harlow begins to rub her hand in a circle, hiding her touch under the material of her underwear. She whimpers, locking her eyes on mine, and I drop the tattoo gun, letting it fall to the floor.

Her tattoo is done, anyway. I can touch it up later.

“Harlow,” I say her name in warning.

“Alto,” she moans.

I grip the tattoo chair, watching her fingers circle her clit.

Bane stands next to me, then Colt on my other side, and we do the one thing we weren’t ever supposed to do.

We watch our best friend’s daughter fuck herself on our tattoo table.

And I’ve never seen such a beautiful sight.

“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” I slip my hand onto her leg, needing to touch her. “Tell us what you want.”

“Want Bane’s lips,” she pants, taking her free hand to touch her mouth. “Please,” she begs.

I shove Bane. “You heard her.”

“Mine?” He sounds so surprised.

“Then, I want Colt’s mouth on me. Here.” She pinches her nipples between her fingers. “Then I want you. I want your mouth here.” She rubs her clit again, showing me what she wants.

“Greedy girl,” I growl.

“She wants all of our mouths.” Colt begins to lift the shirt over her head when a loud knock bangs on the door.

Harlow jumps and Bane covers her mouth with his just in time to stifle her scream.

Lucky fucking bastard.

When he pulls away, he presses his finger against his lips to tell her to be quiet. She nods.

I bend over and pick up her pants, hating the fact we nearly got caught. Her fucking car is in the parking lot. What the hell were we thinking? We are stupid.

“What?” I bark, then clear my throat. “What is it?”

“It’s Match. You said you’d give me that consult, man. I didn’t know you were closed.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Come back in an hour,” I shout in return, pressing a hand against my erection, wondering when the hell things got so messed up. Is this a sign from the damn universe that this isn’t a good idea? If Match hadn’t interrupted, I’d probably be feasting on her pussy or claiming it for myself, fucking her right on the table.

“Is that Harlow’s car out front?”

“What? No. It’s been parked there all day. Don’t know whose it is.” Sometimes that happens. We have a huge parking lot and people will park their cars there every now and then. It doesn’t bother us any. We don’t care. We aren’t the type of people to call a tow truck.

“I was about to say, he’d be pissed to know she was getting a tattoo,” he says behind the locked door.

Colt helps Harlow up from the chair and is about to help her to the mirror. My heart thumps wild in my chest. “Match, now isn’t a good time, okay? I’ve spilled ink everywhere. So let me call you when I’m done cleaning up.”

“Yeah, man. No problem.”

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