by L. Grubb
“Come in, boy. What’s up?” Prez leans back in his office chair and links his hands behind his head.
“Me and some of the boys want to head out to the club, just letting you know. We’re going as a group. Prez, we haven’t heard jack from the Hell Riders, no more attacks have occurred over the last week on lockdown. I’m going stir crazy being stuck in here with all those morons.” I take a deep breath to stop my pounding heart and walk into the enclosed room.
Prez looks at me with no expression. “Fine, fine. Go then. Make sure you go as a group. Any signs of trouble give us a buzz.” He leans forward and starts scribbling on documents, dismissing me.
All the brothers are back in the clubhouse main room when I return. Champ looks up at me, expectantly.
“Club 49, here we come, boys!” I shout with my arms spread wide, a smile flitting across my face. The room erupts into cheers as everyone, including myself, scramble up and out to get ready for a night on the prowl.
We took the club’s Range Rover to the club, a prospect being our designated driver. We all hop out when we reach Club 49, finally a spring in our steps. The bouncer greets us with a tight nod and proceeds to let us straight in, much to the dismay of queuing patrons.
I love this place. It gets my blood racing through my veins in anticipation of the pussy I’ll snag. It’s always hopping, every damn night. The space is large with a dance floor taking up the centre of the room. The DJ booth directly in front and on a raised platform. Surround sound pumps the bassy music around the room. There are five bars in this place, one in each VIP section, and one sturdy oak, half circle bar covers the left side, proudly displaying every drink known to man.
Luckily, the place isn’t so packed, and we’re able to get a drink instantly.
“Seven bottles of Bud and seven tequila slammers, dude,” I shout across to the barman.
“Coming up!” He proceeds to grab our drinks in record time, proudly displaying his skills. “There ya go. Anything else?” He wipes his hands on a bar cloth, swinging it back over his shoulder.
“That’s it, thanks.” I shove some money in his direction, and we do our slammers in one quick breath. The burn rolling down my throat kicks heat through my system making me ready for the hunt.
“Motherfucker,” I hear Flipper say from the middle of the group. “I will never get used to that shit.” His expression is just hilarious. We all laugh at him and his sour face and proceed to check out the bar and patrons.
“Hello, handsome. Want to dance?” A skinny blonde runs her hand up my arm, seductively.
“Not a chance, sweetheart.” I shrug her off and turn my attention back to my brothers.
“What the hell, Cobra? She was damn fine!” Dope looks at me like I’ve grown an extra head.
“Not in the mood for clingy birds like that, Dope.” I shake my head at him. “If you thought she was so hot, go get your own hands dirty and hope to shit she isn’t one of them chicks that want more.” I swigged my beer to hide my smirk.
“Ah…Nah, plenty of chicks in the sea. The club is just ramping up. I’ll bide my time and have a cute little redhead instead.” He winks at me.
Fucking winks at me. I raise a brow at him in question.
“What?”
“Don’t fucking wink at me, brother. Not cool.”
He laughs loudly at me and shakes his head, turning back to drink his beer.
I scan the crowd, checking out the girls. No one really sticks out for me yet, but the night is still young.
Chapter 5
Alexis
We left the cocktail bar after they started playing Jazz music. That is not our type of music so we headed over to the new club further down the boulevard.
We’ve been queuing to get into Club 49 for over twenty minutes, and my feet were seriously starting to hurt. Lauren was oblivious to my discomfort and was already bopping along to the beat that was pounding out from the club.
“My feet are killing me, and we haven’t even had a decent dance yet,” I complain while shuffling my feet to stop the ache.
“Quit complaining, Alexis. We’re nearly there now and then we can really start to party.” Her excitement is infectious, and I soon forget the aching in my feet.
“Finally!” I exclaim as we are let in to the club through the double black doors. We head straight for the bar. Surprise. Surprise.
“What do you want to drink?” Lauren regards me through wide emerald colored eyes.
“Malibu and Coke, please.” I smile at her.
As we wait our turn, I look around. Many of the girls are dressed skimpily, scraps of material barely hiding their assets. Gag. Men are dressed to impress, many in open neck shirts and jeans, loafers covering their feet. The decor is dark and mysterious, dark purple drapes hung across the ceiling, black walls with a purple trim and a hardwood floor made for easy cleaning. Nice. I’m impressed. This is our first trip to this particular club, it only opened a few weeks back.
Unfortunately, between work and the care home, I haven’t had a chance to hit up this new place with Lauren yet.
“Here ya go! Got two apple sour shots too. Bottoms up!” She throws her shot back and slammed the glass back on the bar. “Yeah! That’s what I’m talking about.” She swivels her hips to the beat, arms flapping a rhythm in the air.
I can’t help laughing at her antics. She’s just too funny. I down my shot like a pro, and follow suit with slamming the glass down. The sour burn flows down my throat, warming my stomach nicely.
Three drinks later and we hit the floor, dancing to Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off”. After about an hour, we head back to the bar for a refresher. I swipe my hand across my sweaty forehead and brush my hair over my shoulder. Lauren still looks perfect. Blonde hair with caramel highlights styled to perfection and killer makeup that’s always proper. I swear, I have no idea how she can still look so good. Shaking my head, I sip my drink and observe the club goers. Things are starting to heat up, and I notice a few couples making out like they’re the only ones in the room. Do they have no shame?
I have the creepy sense of someone watching me, but I notice everyone is still going about their business; drinking and dancing. Lauren is talking to some surfer looking dude with shaggy blond hair and wearing an Hawaiian style shirt. How cliché. My hips move on their own accord, swaying to the rhythm of “Uptown Funk”.
“Hey, Lauren. Dance?” I mention to her in her ear.
“Sure.” She puts her empty glass down, grabs my hand and hauls me back onto the dance floor.
Chapter 6
Cobra
The bar is starting to get packed so we make our way to the edge of the dance floor to survey the crowd. Shit, this place got busy quick.
As I swig my beer, I notice a little blonde haired girl in bright pink, swinging her hips, arms in the air. I appraise her from head to toe. Very nice. Pert butt, tiny waist; just my type.
I keep my eye on her little performance, but my eyes stray to the chick she’s dancing with. Holy mother of fuck. Black raven colored hair, curled around her shoulders, little black dress with killer wedge heels. Sex on legs, but classy. Not my usual lay, but damn she’s hot.
I keep my eyes trained on her while finishing the last of my Bud. Fuck it. Placing my empty bottle on the nearest table¸ I make my way onto the dance floor and maneuver myself behind her.
I put my hands on her narrow hips and pull her back against my chest. Mmmm, she smells of vanilla and lemon.
I follow her lead and dance with her. Her ass in perfect alignment with my dick. Fuck me. I grip her hips a little tighter and sway them to my liking.
“Hey, beautiful. You’re looking mighty good tonight,” I say in her ear. I swear I feel a tremble. Fuck. She turns around to face me and freezes. What the fuck?
“Uh…Hey.” Her golden hazel eyes are wide as she scans my body.
“Like what you see?” I smirk at her. Yeah, big ego right here. I pull her hips back toward me and wrap my arms around her
tiny waist and move her to the beat. She finally relaxes, lets go and starts dancing, wrapping her arms around my neck.
After what seems like hours, she gets dragged away by her friend. I wink at her as a parting gesture and stroll back to the guys left on the sidelines.
“Where’s Champ?” I ask Dope.
“Dancing with a little redhead. Just like he said he would.” He chuckles.
“Need a drink. You coming?” I throw over my shoulder while making my way to the bar.
“Sure,” I hear him behind me. Why didn’t we just call ahead and book a VIP suite? This bar is crazy crowded.
When we finally get to the bar, sticky with spilt drink, we order our poison and scan the area for the guys. Nowhere. Either they got lucky, or they’re lost on the dance floor.
“Who was that chick you were practically fucking on the dance floor?” Dope asks me with a dirty smirk on his face.
“Fuck knows. But fuck me sideways, she can dance. And she’s HOT!”
“Where she go?”
I look around for anyone in bright pink, but the place is just too packed.
“Haven’t a clue. Pinky dragged her away before I could even get her name.” I shake my head. First bit of pussy I’ve found all night, and she’s disappeared.
“Probably the little girls’ room.” Dope snickers, draining his Bud.
“Having a good time, boys?” Flipper comes up behind us, grinning like a naughty school boy.
“Why are you so damn chipper?” I glare at him, shrugging his arm off my shoulder.
“Ah, you know, sexy chick, wet pussy…You get the picture.” His grin widens and his eyes twinkle.
“You got laid? In a club? Classy, dude,” Dope says, grimacing. “Don’t touch me with them damn hands either. Gross!”
Flipper laughs it off, flips us the bird and wonders off into the crowd.
I lean my back against the bar, not giving a fuck if my shirt gets sticky, scanning the area for pinky. Nothing. Nada. Maybe they’re gone.
Alexis
“What the hell, Lauren? Did you not see the guy I was dancing with?” I sneer, aiming the deadliest look I can at her.
She full belly laughs at my expression before saying, “Alexis, chill out. Did you not see the cut he was wearing?”
“No? What’s a cut?” I frown in confusion. What the shitting hell is she talking about?
“A cut.. You know. Bikers, deadly, weapons, drugs…You get the picture. I was saving your ass from making a huge mistake.” She aims a sarcastic look in my direction before turning to the mirror to check her makeup.
“And? It’s not like I’m going to leave with him, have hot sex and never be seen again. It was just dancing, Lauren. Sometimes you can be so dramatic.” I sigh, leaning against the counter.
“I just don’t want you getting hurt, Alexis, that’s all.” Lauren touches my hand in a comforting gesture.
I cast my eyes to the shiny, laminate floor. “I won’t get hurt by dancing with a hot guy. My intentions aren’t to leave this club without you.” I half smile at her. “Maybe we should just go. My feet are killing me, and you’ve killed my buzz.”
“I’m sorry, chick. Honestly, but the Crusaders MC are bad news. Everyone knows that.”
“How do you he was a Crusader?” I ask, turning my body to face Lauren.
“The patch on his cut said so. Jesus, I know it was dark in there, but it stands out like a naked nun running down the street. Are you losing vision?” Lauren waves her hand in front of my face, and I swat her away, laughing at her analogy. Where she gets these things, I have no idea.
“Okay, okay. I was too busy paying attention to the stubble on his face, his giant muscles, and the fact his shirt clung to his abs.”
“Snap out of it, woman! It’s like you’re possessed.” Lauren laughs.
“Oh, shut up.” I laugh along with her. “Come on, let’s head out. It’s 2 a.m., my feet hurt and I’m tired.” I linked my arm with hers as we left the ladies’ bathroom and headed straight for the door leading outside.
Cobra
Seeing a flash of pink in my peripheral vision, I glance that way and notice pinky and her hot friend heading out. Well fuck, that put a damper on my night.
“And there she goes…” Dope chuckles.
I glare at him with a look that could kill before downing the last of my Bud.
“I’m heading out. You staying with the others or coming with?” I push away from the bar and start heading toward the main doors without waiting for a reply.
“Wait up, I’ll come with,” Dope shouts behind me. We fall in step together, looking for Marcus, the prospect who’s driving. Spotting him, I lift my chin in a let’s go gesture and walk out into the muggy night air of LA.
Chapter 7
Cobra
2 weeks later
“Still nothing from Hell Riders? It’s been two weeks since the attack, and no message for us?” I ask Prez at morning church.
“Nada. Ziltch. Fuck all. But the attacks have stopped for now. Cobra, I need you to run out on some errands. Flipper, I need you to maintain vigil on the security cameras now that we’re in. Dismissed,” Prez says with authority.
We all stand and leave the room, muttering among ourselves.
“Cobra, need a word,” Prez bellows out for me.
“Wassup?” I walk back into the church meeting room and take a seat.
“While you’re out today, please keep a trained eye. I don’t want to miss a thing if these fuckers are really gunning for us. Oh, and stop by the store and grab some beer. The bar’s out, it seems.” Prez slaps me on the back on his way past, leaving me with thoughts I’d rather not have.
After the shitty errands I was sent out on today, I just needed to ride. With the wind in my hair and the deep rumble of the bike beneath me. This is the fucking life. After a couple of miles, I pulled into a general store to grab the beer. Getting my phone out my pocket I text Ian, a prospect, where I am so he can come grab the drink. Great idea bringing the bike when I know I was picking up crates of beer. Dumbass.
Walking into the store, running my hand through my wind swept hair, I glance around for the alcohol aisle. Straight ahead. Sorted.
Not having a clue what beer I’m supposed to get, I pick up one of each type. Including the Bud. That’s the one I cannot forget. I go grab a cart for easy lifting when a short, black haired girl slams into me.
“Fuck!” I roared.
“I…I…I’m so so sorry,” she squeaks, barely audible.
I flick my eyes down and am fucking speechless. What are the chances of bumping into little miss sex on legs in a general store, miles from the clubhouse? My heart thumps with excitement at seeing her.
“Oh shit. You…” she stammers, clutching her chest, eyes wide with…fear? What the actual fuck?
“Ah, so you remember me huh?” I smirk, arrogantly.
A blush crept up her pale slender neck, putting a nice color on her cheeks. “How can I forget? Mr. Hotty from Club 49.” She looks away, completely embarrassed to have blurted that out. A slight blush covers her pale cheek, and I notice her swallowing hard.
I laugh. Full on, belly hurting laugh. “Feeling’s mutual, darlin’.” I wink at her.
“I..uh..sorry I bumped into you. I’m just gonna…” she stammers, pointing toward the aisle with milk.
“No problem, babe. No problem at all. Was so good to bump into you again,” I say, appraising her from top to bottom, clearly checking her out.
Again, she blushes. “Well, I’m sure you have things to do,” she glances quickly at my cut, “Cobra. I do too, so if you would excuse me.” She walks around me and hurries deep into the store.
Fuck no. This chick isn’t getting away from me. Again. All she had to do was look at me and my dick was instantly hard.
Discreetly rearranging myself to walk more comfortably, I grab the cart and head back to the beer. I grab one of each and head to check out and make it outside before she does.
The prospect loads the beer into the truck, salutes me like an ass and speeds off. I lean my back against the wall, light a cigarette and wait for black beauty to come out.
Seeing her coming out the store with a load of bags, I make my way over to help her to her car.
“Can I help?”
She looks up at me and narrows her eyes. “Are you stalking me, mister?”
I have to laugh, this chick has serious balls. Here I am, all six foot three inches of me, heavily muscled and covered in tattoos, getting some attitude from this little woman.
“What are you laughing at?” Her brows furrow in a cute V shape. Hot damn, I want to kiss that frown away.
“You have serious balls, lady. That’s what I’m laughing at.”
Her head tilts to the side, exposing more of her delectable neck. I inwardly groan.
“I didn’t mean to be rude, you just startled me.” Finally, a shy smile graces her lips.
“I just wanted to know if you needed help with your bags? You look like you’re struggling a bit.”
She looks down to the bags she’s carrying. “Uh, sure. Thanks.” She hands me a couple of bags, but I go and take them all.
“Lead the way, beautiful.” I smile what I hope to be my most charming grin at her. She blushes. Again. This is just too easy.
When we reach her car, which she parked in the far corner of the store’s parking lot, she unlocks it and opens the trunk for me to place the bags in.
“Thank you for your help, Cobra,” she says, smiling up at me.
“You’re welcome…” I stammer, waiting for her to finally tell me her name.
“Alexis. My name’s Alexis.”
Alexis. What a beautiful name for a smoking hot woman.
“Nice to meet you, Alexis. Hey, we’re holding a barbeque on the beach tomorrow. Do you and pinky want to come along?” I ask, hoping she says yes. I need to get my dick wet, bad.
She raises a brow at me and the corner of her mouth lifts in amusement. “Pinky? Who the hell is Pinky?”
“The chick you were with in the bright pink halter dress?” I reply.
