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At five minutes to nine, she jogged down the steps to wait for Jazz.

“Damn, girl, you clean up nice!!” Jazz yelled from the window of a Dodge Camaro as she pulled into the parking lot. “With a rack like that, you’re gonna be beating them off with a stick tonight.”

Holly giggled as she ran to the passenger side door. “Thanks for coming to get me. Is this all right?” she asked, indicating the black skinny jeans and charcoal gray tank with a plunging V-neck.

“Uh, yeah, you look hot, sister.” Jazz also had jeans on, a dark wash, with a long-sleeved purple top that didn’t show so much as a hint of skin. “All right let’s do this. I’m excited to introduce you to my girls. Toni will be there so you can finally meet her.”

“Great.” They chatted for the fifteen-minute drive until Jazz cut a hard left and got in a line of vehicles waiting to enter through a fifteen-foot security gate.

What the…

Two men stood on either side of the open gate, peeking into the windows of each car that passed, though it was mostly motorcycles making their way into what appeared to be a compound of some sort.

Oh, shit.

Mostly motorcycles…

Holly glanced at the men guarding the gate. They had cuts identical to the one worn by LJ.

Her blood ran cold, and she fought the urgent need to vomit.

Jazz had brought her to the Hell’s Handlers clubhouse.

CHAPTER NINE

LJ TOSSED HIS fourth shot of tequila down his gullet and fought the need to shove the overeager Handlers’ Honey off his arm. A horny club girl ready to rock and roll. He should be all over that shit. Meant he wouldn’t have to search for someone to fuck that evening. And fucking someone random was precisely what he needed to get his mind off the forbidden fruit fucking with his head.

Too bad his dick had no interest in the painted-up stick figure with fake tits clinging to him. The girl probably ate nothing more than a lettuce leaf and a can of tuna on a good day. Who the hell wanted to fuck a bag of bones?

“You gonna let me find out firsthand if the rumor is true?” the Honey whispered in his ear, making sure to brush her sticky lips against the shell of his ear. What the hell was her name? Cindy? Cami? Carli, maybe? All LJ remembered was the drama she’d caused by becoming overly interested in Maverick. She’d tried to fuck things up for him and his ol’ lady, and nearly got herself booted from the club. In fact, she’d taken her rejected ass and sulked somewhere for more than half a year. Guess she’d returned for more biker dick.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you it’s not nice to gossip?” LJ said as he lifted his hand to Thunder, who was working the bar. After four shots of tequila in twenty minutes, his head was growing pleasantly fuzzy. Maybe with another three or four, he’d be too far gone to give a shit who he fucked, and he could take Carli up on her offer.

Yeah, he’d decided her name was Carli.

“Pretty sure every man wants us girls gossiping about how he has a ten-inch dick.”

He grunted.

“And I’ve heard it’s ten inches soft,” she purred, pressing her firm tits into his arm. Too bad another set of tits had been dominating his thoughts for days, so much so Carli’s barely registered.

“Shouldn’t believe everything you hear.” Okay, so he had a big dick. It wasn’t a secret. Not since he’d fucked a mouthy girl from town over a year ago. The short-lived fling ended when he found out she’d snuck into his room at the clubhouse, taken a dick pic while he was sleeping, and sent it to her girlfriends. Next thing he knew, all the goddamn Honeys in the club were running on about his huge dick and how they couldn’t wait until he patched in so they could have a run at it.

Not happening.

Sure, he needed to get his rocks off as often as any of his brothers, but he just had no interest in fucking some chick half his brothers’ dicks had spent time in. Call him weird, but it just wasn’t his thing.

“How about you take me upstairs and show me, so I don’t have to rely on rumors?” Carli practically purred into his ear.

“Sorry, sweetheart, not tonight.” He accepted the shot from Thunder, fist-bumped the blond prospect, then downed it as fast as he’d housed the others. Unfortunately, Carli didn’t take the hint. Instead of leaving him the fuck alone, she wrapped her arms around his bicep and hung on.

“Jazzy!” came a high-pitched squeal from somewhere across the crowded clubhouse. Sounded like a very drunk Stephanie. “’Bout time you got here, bitch!” Oh yeah, Steph was toasted.

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