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Sydney humors us both by holding up her hands like she's innocent. "Don't drag me in the middle! I just got here."
"You've been here four months now. That excuse's wearing off."
She lets out a squeal as he squeezes her thigh and leans close, nipping at her neck.
I fold my arms over my chest admiring the two. "You need to tone it down. You're making even me sick."
“Then get you a girl and we can double date,” Mason says.
I wink in answer. “I’ve got plenty of girls. Just notthegirl.”
“How are things with Janessa?” Sydney asks in a hopeful tone. “The woman you brought to our last club party. How’s she doing?”
“Right… she’s good. We’re good. Things are very casual.”
“In other words, she’s for late night calls only.” Mason ignores the chiding look Sydney gives him and reaches for his pint of beer. “I didn’t care for her anyway. She didn’t fit in with the club.”
“She was nice!” Sydney says.
“She wouldn’t even put her purse down. Like the bar had fucking germs or some shit.”
I shoot my best bud an easy smile. “I’d say it’s a fair assessment considering the last time the saloon was deep-cleaned we were in diapers. I’ll leave you two lovebirds be.”
Both call after me as I turn around and wander the rest of the saloon. On a chilly Friday afternoon like this, the mood’s relaxed and casual. The few guys visiting the saloon are sitting back sipping on their drinks and chatting among themselves.
I pay Mick a visit on the other side of the counter and then hit up the table where Stein and Bush are enjoying a Texas Brew and some pretzels.
There’s a reason I spend most of my afternoons at the Chop Shop. Otherwise, unless we’ve got club business or a mission we’re carrying out, I’m left aimless. I’m left bored; things never go too well for me when I get too bored…
I’m chuckling as both Stein and Bush give me a hard time about my looks (something I’m used to at the club). I don’t have the same harsh ruggedness that most of the other guys do. They tease the hell out of me for looking like a Hollywood actor version of a biker versus a real life one.
I take the digs in stride like I always do.
My phone vibrates in my jean pocket. I pull it out as Bush yammers on about my shiny golden hair and how I must spend hours conditioning it.
Janessa’s texted me.
Except there are no words in the text message—just heart emojis and a photo.
Anexplicitone that almost has me feeling it’s inappropriate even for a damn biker club.
Janessa lies on her bed in nothing but a lacy panty. Her body’s arched, pierced breasts thrust forward and ass pushed back at an angle showing off her feminine curves.
It’s a photo that would make any male brain malfunction.
Damn sure makes mine. I forget where the hell I am for a second.
A moment later, she follows up with another text.
miss u babe. im so lonely. when can i see u? ??
I glance over my shoulder at Stein and Bush’s table. The two older gentlemen have moved onto talking sports. I refocus on my phone and text Janessa back, asking what she’s up to this afternoon.
thinking of u. duh. come over ??
I think on her reply one more second before I agree.
Mason’s correct when he says she’s for late nights only—our most recent club party being the exception. I had tested waters and brought Janessa around the guys. Something I don’t do often with women I’m sleeping with.
