Page 17 of Outlaws' Dirty Secret

I laugh as I check myself out in the mirror. Biker chic or basic bitch? I don't even know. “I’d deserve it.”

“Yup,” she agrees readily, before changing topics and launching into a story about her nemesis at work while I do my makeup.

The doorbell rings as I’m adjusting the wings on my eyeliner. “Oh my God, they're here.”

“Be careful, okay? And have fun.” Grace waves and smiles, but it doesn't erase the worry crease between her eyes.

“I will. Love you!” I almost run down the stairs, but pause at the front door to take a deep breath. I don't know what to expect, or what they’ll expect of me. Am I ready for this?

Only one way to find out. I draw a deep breath then open the door. On the other side I find all three of them, wearing bike leathers and jeans. Their bikes are lined up on the street. Blackout is sitting on the porch railing, while Skyhigh and Dragon are talking. They look up when I open the door, and I can tell they’re surprised by what they see.

“Damn, honey,” Blackout says, whistling low.

Skyhigh reaches out and flicks my belly button ring. “Nice, I like it.”

Dragon nods. He doesn’t say a word, but the pure, masculine appreciation in his eyes is clear.

“Right back atcha,” I say with a grin.

I don’t know where to look. When I first met them, it was Blackout that stood with me, but since then I’ve taken a shot out of Dragon’s mouth and I’ve kissed Skyhigh twice. I feel like I need to decide who I’m most attracted to, but bikers seem to have a very relaxed attitude towards sex and women, so maybe I need to do the same and just see how things go.

“You just gonna stand there?” Blackout smiles roguishly, just a little higher on one side. “I know we look good, but you keep staring like that and we aren’t going nowhere except back through that door.”

“Maybe that’s what the lady wants,” Dragon says.

Ooooh, I’m not ready for that. Not yet. “Um… can I see your bikes? I’ve been on a few scooters and motorbikes, but I’ve never actually been on a motorcycle like that.”

Skyhigh nods. “Then it’s time we change that.” He motions to a small pile near the front steps that I didn’t notice.

Dragon picks up a purple-fading-to-pink motorcycle helmet and a black leather jacket. “You fall off and the road's gonna shred that top right off you faster than we will. Put this on.”

I sniff the jacket, smelling perfume and leather. “Do I want to know whose this is?”

“One of the old ladies had some extra shit she wasn’t using,” Blackout explains.

“Old lady?” The question hangs in the air. It doesn’t exactly sound flattering.

“A woman claimed by one of the brothers,” Skyhigh explains, without really telling me anything.

“So like one of the girls I saw at the club last night?”

“Nah,” Blackout says with a laugh. “Yeah, sometimes the guys bring their old ladies around if they’re in the mood, but I think it was just sluts and wannabes last night.”

“Is that what I was? That’s what you meant when you said I was free game because I wasn’t with a man?” Ugh. “I don’t know about?—”

Skyhigh takes the helmet and sets it on my head, tucking my hair behind my ears as he adjusts the fit. “I won’t sugar coat it. There’s a whole lot that ain’t pretty about our lives, but don’t judge a world you don’t live in, baby.Orpeople you don’t even fucking know.” He doesn’t sound pissed exactly, but it’s the voice of a man who’s done apologizing for his life and I can respect that.

I can’t say I’m thrilled with calling women sluts and old ladies, but I nod. “Okay. Then show me, but can I at least ask if any of you have women who… belong to you?

Dragon levels a dark look at me, chin tipped up like he’s borderline insulted. “No.”

“No I can’t ask? Or?”

“Stop fucking with the poor girl.” Blackout rolls his eyes at Dragon. “When it’s just us, honey? Ask whatever you fucking want. If we don’t want to answer, we won’t. And no, we don’t turn down a good time if we’re in the mood, but none of us have a regular girl or anyone who thinks they have a claim.”

A knot loosens in my chest. I can handle the implications of ‘we’re no angels’ from a bunch of single guys that live in orgy central, but the idea that one or more of them might have a girlfriend and they’re still acting like this with me would definitely be a deal breaker. I slip into the jacket. Despite the thick leather, the inside is soft and it’s not as heavy as it looks. A little big just like the helmet, but not a bad fit.

“You’re with Blackout,” Skyhigh says, gesturing to the bikes lined up in front of my house.

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