Page 56 of Sling’s Awakening

In and out of jail?

“You’re cute, but let’s get the hell out of here,” I tell her as I head to the driver’s side door. “Keys, toots.” I snap my fingers in the air.

“Uh, what do you think you’re doing?” Blake asks, not moving.

“I’m driving.”

“Uh, no, you’re not.”

“Stop fucking around, Blake, and give me the damn car keys. I’m hungry.”

That did it.

Guilt flashes across her face before she tosses me the keys and hops in the passenger seat.

Huh. I’m going to have to remember for next time that all I have to do is go to jail to get her to do as I say.

Those titties are mine tonight.

Chapter

Fourteen

SLING

Ipull Blake’s car into the clubhouse’s drive, parking it next to the garage.

“I always wondered what this place was,” Blake says as she gets out of the car.

I look at her funny. “You didn’t know?”

It’s common knowledge around these parts that the Saint’s Outlaws MC Virginia Beach chapter is here.

She shrugs. “It’s not like I need to know where every single motorcycle club in town is.”

“Toots, we are the motorcycle club in town.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Blake mumbles as she rolls her eyes.

I open the door and hold it open, letting her walk in before me.

“Where has your ass been?” Bomber exclaims from where he’s sitting at the bar, his voice booming throughout the clubhouse. “We’ve all tried calling you and Mountain. Least you could’ve done is let us know your asses weren’t in a fucking ditch somewhere.” Bomber leans back in his seat, looking around Blake and me. “Where the fuck is Mountain?”

“The slammer,” I respond as I walk behind the bar, leaving Blake standing there to take everything in as I grab us a drink.

“Say that again?” Bomber asks, leaning in toward me with his brows raised.

“That old ass-fucking lady down the street from my house called the cops on Mountain and me and the dickhead cops arrested us.” I pop the top on a Mike’s Hard Lemonade and slide it on the bar to Blake, motioning for her to take a seat.

She stares at it for a moment before looking up at me, confused as she hesitantly grabs the back of a bar stool.

My brow raises in challenge. Yeah, babe, I pay attention and got what you like to drink.

“He’s not going to bite you, toots.” I snicker as Bomber looks at her with a grin on his face. “Sit the fuck down.”

I barely contain my snort as she moves her hand and pulls out a different stool, leaving a space between her and Bomber.

“I know he’s not,” Blake mumbles as she grabs the Mike’s Hard and takes a sip, all while glaring at me.