Page 6 of Toxic Biker

Manic slides an icy soda in front of her, his eyes a bit clearer than when I left. “Prez get on you?” I question, watching him for any signs of being fucked up still.

He shakes his head. “Nah. I crashed for a bit, the sleep helped,” he responds with a shrug.

“Speaking of Prez,” Whiskey interrupts, “He wants you to get out there and start polishing the chrome, Prospect. Go sweat the rest of the shit out of ya’ kid, so you can clean the bar tonight after we party.”

“Fuck,” Manic mutters under his breath. “Gonna sweat my ass off out there.”

I fold my arms across my chest, enjoying how Lacey leans towards me as she plants her juicy ass on a barstool. “You complaining, Prospect? Did I just hear you mutter something?”

He shakes his head, placing the wet rag he was cleaning with in the empty sink and rounds the bar. He heads out the side door, no doubt going to the garage to get everything he needs to shine our bikes up like a good little bitch. Anyone wanting in the club has to put the work in. They have to really want it and show us they’ll take our shit, respect us, and be committed. The only one who had it easier than the rest is Mark. He got lucky being Prez’s ol’ lady’s security detail. It basically bought him a get in free card once he started hanging around the club constantly. He doesn’t have any say over any of us, but he does outrank the Prospects.

Exhaling once he’s gone, I say, “He’s getting worn down. The guy never complained before. Fucker’s so close to getting patched, he needs to stick with it a little longer.” I watch out the bar window as he wraps a black and yellow bandana across his forehead and squats down next to the first bike with a bucket of supplies.

Whiskey grumbles, “Maybe stop getting the poor kid trashed each night when he should be sober like the other little shits around here. It only makes it harder on him when he always feels like death. You and Baker are gonna get his ass hooked on something, then what?”

House chuckles, “You’re just pissed ‘cause you had Ripper and Blow hazing you, old man. They probably had you wiping their sweaty nutsacks in the middle of summer.”

“Old, my ass. My cock can stay standing longer than yours, you fucking meathead.”

I turn my head, burying my face in Lacey’s hair as I laugh at Whiskey giving our jumbo-sized brother shit. It’s all good here while we’re kicked back, but you’ll never catch us allowing any outsider to talk about our brothers that way. We’d fuck them up and worry about the consequences later.

Her shoulders shake as she laughs and attempts to stay quiet, but we still hear her giggle. My brothers instantly smile at the sound, and I can’t stop from grinning. She may be green to club life, but she’s sweet enough she’ll be just fine around here.

“Plague.” A pair of tits push up against my opposite bicep as lips nearly touch my ear. “Want to have some fun?”

I shake the club slut off, flashing her an irritated glare. Out of all the brothers here, why the fuck is she coming over to jump on my cock when others are obviously without a woman? “Nope. Only pussy I want is right here,” I retort automatically and tip my head to the side, indicating Lacey, not that it’s needed. I continue, “You know what? Since you thought it was okay to come over to me topurposelystart some shit with a new face in the club, and be disrespectful towards my guest, I think it’s time you went home.”

I snatch her arm and begin walking her towards the door. This bitch is crazy if she thinks I’d tolerate this from her because she’s a chick, I won’t, regardless if she’s male or female. Lacey doesn’t deserve that bought of nastiness pointed her way.

“No! Plague, please! I didn’t know, I swear it’s not like that. I can beg, let me beg and make you happy, okay?”

I scoff, officially with the ick towards her at this point. “No? Sure as fuck seemed like it to me and I thought Ripper made it plain as fucking day when his Gem came around that he wasn’t gonna put up with any shady-bitch-shit. That goes for all our women. You don’t own my motherfucking cock, nor any other brother around here. You don’t come up to me and disrespect the female I’m with and expect there not to be consequences. You’re lucky I don’t bury you out back to prove a point to everyone else around here when it comes to Lacey.”

Tears crest as she begins to sob and beg, like it’ll sway me. I’m already done with her at this point; she’s showed her true colors and they’re not motherfuckin’ unicorn. Glancing at my brothers, I pause long enough, making sure they agree. They both nod, so I tow her the rest of the way to the front door. “Call an Uber, you’re done here,” I declare with finality and shove her outside, allowing the door to close behind her half naked ass.

I don’t know how she made it in the door in the first place. Usually, we’re better about the snatch coming through here, that they know the score from the start. No nasty-bitch-shit, or you get the boot. I don’t care if you ride dick for a living or dance, whatever, you can still show some respect and expect it given in return.

Whiskey starts clapping, making me huff. “Good, it’s about time someone tossed her out.”

House nods, “She’s always ugly to the girls at the club.” Of course, those chicks are the ones on his mind.

I immediately go to Lacey’s side, my hands moving to her face. Her full attention is on me with my touch, her eyes wide, looking every bit of my fantasy. “You shouldn’t have been disrespected like that. You deserve better.”

“It’s okay.” I think she’s shocked I stood up for her, but she should expect nothing less. If a man doesn’t have your back when he should, he’s obviously not your man.

“No. It’s not,” I calmly argue, and promise, “But I’ll make it up to you.” Reaching for her, I thread our fingers together and grab her half-full soda with my free hand. “Brothers,” I acknowledge to the guys, and tow Lacey’s fine ass behind me, leading her to my room.

“Where are we going?” she asks once we’re alone again, glancing around and taking everything in. The place isn’t much; it’s a biker compound with a bunch of rooms and bathrooms, so we can sleep, shit, and fuck in peace if we wish. The kitchen and bar are more decorated and taken care of, mostly by Ripper’s ma since we hang out in them the most.

“To my room,” I share and flash her an easy grin. “Gonna tuck you in my bed, eat your pussy until you’re screaming my name, and then I’ll probably feed you. When I’ve had my fill, I’ll hold you. That way you can sleep tonight, knowing you’resafein my arms.”

“Asher,” she whispers, and I drop her hand.

Before she can blink, my grip is wrapped around her throat, her body slammed against the wall. Chin tilted up with her eyes trained on me, her mouth opens with shock, while her breasts are deliciously trapped against my chest. Her heart thuds away like a trapped bird attempting to escape its cage. In this case, I’m the bars.

Leaning in, my head tilts to the side, eyes blazing. “What’d I tell you?” I growl threateningly, my voice more beast than man. In this life, you listen when an outlaw gives you an order, it could be the difference between breathing or sleeping six feet under. Does she not realize I’m teaching her how to fit into my life?

“I-I’m sorry,” she stammers, and I believe her. She’s never had me like this. She was always small, sweet, and deserved to be spoiled. She’s all grown up now, though, and has to deal with the real world. This is me and I’m planning on showing her exactly what that means.

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