Page 7 of Paladin's Hell

They seem to be in awe as they approach. The one who’d first caught my attention, hangs back a little behind the other who’s got a more hardened seen-it-all look in her eyes.

It’s the bold one who’s assessing me. “You’re one of those bikers, aren’t you? In the new gang?”

“Not a gang, sweetheart. We’re a motorcycle club. We’re just men who love riding motorcycles.” It’s a practiced statement, one I find myself saying often.

The bold one inches nearer. “My name’s Jeannie. This is Moira.”

Moira peers out from behind her, waggling her fingers. She’s fucking adorable, and my cock hardens just watching her. Jeannie’s okay in the looks department, but while I can’t put my finger on it, Moira’s got an aura of innocence about her which, strangely, I find appealing.

“Jeannie, Moira,” I raise my chin and shake out my thick, dark and curly shoulder-length hair.

“You have parties up at your clubhouse, don’t you?” Jeannie brazenly asks.

I grin, answering, “Sometimes.” At least once a week and often more than that.

Jeannie looks at Moira, whose eyes have gone large in her face. Although she tugs at Jeannie’s arm, it has no effect, nor does it stop Jeannie from almost making a demand, “Can we come?”

I’m more interested in Moira, who resembles a rabbit caught in the headlights. A thought hits me. “How old are you babes?”

“I’m eighteen, she’s seventeen.” Again, it’s Jeannie who answers.

I nod, pleased. At least they’re both of the age of consent. Jeannie, I could take or leave, my cock doesn’t seem bothered at all. But Moira? Don’t know what it is, but there’s just something about her. My cigarette’s burned down to the stub, I put it out against the heel of my boot. “Tell you what, you give me your numbers and maybe I’ll call you sometime.”

I’m not promising anything, but Jeannie’s grin looks like she’s scooped the jackpot. Quickly she delves into her purse, takes out some paper and writes on it, handing me just one number. Uh uh, not yours I want honey. I stare at Moira. “What about you, sweetheart?”

Jeannie glances at her friend, and her grin widens. Then as Moira’s mouth forms a shocked O; Jeannie takes back her note and jots down a second number.

I pocket the paper, and start the engine, it roars loudly making both of them jump. “Later, ladies,” I call out, as I kick down into first, let out the clutch and twist the throttle, and disappear down the street.

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