Page 1 of One Night with the Biker

Each time a woman headed my way, I expected her to slide into the booth across from me and introduce herself as Ainsley Valois. And each time a woman nodded to me but kept walking, I asked myself what the fuck was I thinking. I’d let Louisiana, our chapter’s RC, talk me into a fucking blind date.

What did that motherfucker do? Directed me to a Cajun restaurant, when my tastebuds firmly laid with barbeque.

Grabbing my brew, I gulped the last bit of it, set the mug down and drummed my fingers on the table. One fucking thing I hated was tardiness. My mystery woman was a half hour late and I was ready to fucking bail. I’d prefer listening to Louisianaschooling my ass on his state’s culture than continuing to wait on a chick who couldn’t tell the fucking time.

A girl headed in my direction and my fucking tongue nearly dropped to the table. She was stunning, drawing the attention of every red-blooded male in the place. Dark hair cradling her face and cascading down her back. Smooth, olive skin revealed in a jean miniskirt and a crop top. Luscious tits, a small waist, hips that flared just right, and long legs perfect to wrap around my back.

As she drew closer, though, I winced and turned my head away. Disappointment surged into me. She was young—too fucking young for me. Women had been my pastime for years and—

“Are you Reese?” She glanced at my embroidered name patch and nodded. “You are.”

Her eyes were whiskey colored, her lips pink. Inches away from me, she was even more gorgeous. My cock jumped and my nostrils flared. A delicate floral scent wafted to me.

“Ainsley?” I put no inflection into my voice. Nothing to give away the lust punching me in the gut.

Smiling, she held out her delicate hand. “Nice to meet you.”

Her slender fingers gripped my big paw in a firm handshake, then she slid into the booth across from me.

“Don’t be cross with me. I’m so sorry I’m late. Nova has been on my ass since I told her I was stuck in traffic.”

Nova was Louisiana’s side piece, and the link to my blind date. Out of respect to his ol’ lady, I’d never met Nova. I was complicit just knowing about his bullshit. Motherfucker couldn’t bring her to the Devil’s Pit—our clubhouse—with his ol’ lady running the fucking bar. Jinx would slice his dick off.

“Lou Lou reiterated I had to be on time.”

I lifted a brow. “You call Louisiana ‘Lou Lou’?”

Settling her elbow on the table, she leaned closer. “He says we can’t call him Louisiana or Keir,” she confided, referring to his given name. “What with his ol’ lady and all.”

Lou Lou? Sounded like something a favorite aunt called her adorable nephew. Wait ‘til I got back to the fucking clubhouse. The next time that motherfucker warned me about the pronunciation of New Orleans, I’d punch him in his fucking mouth.

Ainsley cleared her throat. “Right? I mean, he does have one, doesn’t he?”

“An ol’ lady?”

She nodded.

If I hadn’t ratted him out to Jinx, I certainly wouldn’t open my mouth to this girl. I thought she and her friend knew Louisiana’s marital status. Apparently, he didn’t confine his fuckery only to Jinx. I shrugged. “You tell me.”

“I say yes, but Nova says no.”

My waitress bounced to the table, tits jiggling underneath her tight purple top. She frowned at Ainsley, sniffed, and glared at me. When she’d brought me my second beer, she’d offered to blow me out back. As much as I once liked a hot mouth on my cock and balls, Monster hadn’t even stirred.

Now, he was hard as stone. For Ainsley.

“I’ve always wanted to go to Mardi Gras,” she chirped, smiling at Mira, the waitress. “And I love those green jeans. You should find a gold-colored belt.”

“There’s an idea,” Mira agreed, thawing. “My boss wants me to wear these ugly gold shoes. I won’t be caught dead in those things, so I might take your suggestion. Would you like a drink?” She listed sodas and other non-alcoholic offerings.

“I want a Hurricane,” Ainsley announced, set her purse on the table, and proceeded to pull out her ID.

Scowling, I scrubbed a hand over my face and reached for my beer, too late remembering I needed a refill.

“See? Twenty-one as of June 30th.”

Mira glanced from Ainsley to me and smirked. “Hurricane coming right up. Do you need another beer, Reese?” she purred.

I didn’t miss Ainsley’s frown at Mira’s blatant flirting. But, fuck, young chicks weren’t my thing. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on Louisiana. What kind of fucking joke was this?

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