Page 2 of Baiting Kong

“Go!” Danger bellowed.

Around them, the room erupted into words of encouragement and last-minute bets, while muscles strained and he and Creature did everything in their power to slam the other’s hand down on the wood. Sweat beaded up on his brow as they sat deadlocked, Creature inching things to his side for a moment before Kong forced them back upright, though he couldn’t get Creature’s hand to budge even a fraction from the center position afterward. His shoulder cramped, his bicep ached, while Creature’s long hair clung to his forehead, growing damp the harder he strained.

He felt the moment when everything shifted, and Creature grunted and squeezed his hand, tightening his grip as Kong slowly muscled his arm down, inch by agonizing inch. The struggle to rebound had Creature gritting his teeth and growling, only to sag in defeat moments later when the back of his hand struck the wood. Cheers erupted, and someone passed Kong a beer that he took a long swig of, his eyes meeting mismatched ones as he went to set it down. The look of admiration he caught in them right before someone told the blonde to bring a bottle of whiskey doubled the interest Kong already had in him. He was almost too busy watching him walk away to snag the wad of bills someone waved in his face and way too interested in that ass to count it. Danger knew better than to fuck with his money anyway, so Kong wasn’t worried; the man did the accounting for every club business and handled the taxes too, keeping them on the up-and-up and the government off their asses. He was no pencil pusher, despite his job. He’d taken the classes to become a CPA because he had a good head for numbers and Mark had asked him to. The club had even footed the bill to get him certified. It was always better to keep things in-house. That was just the way of their world.

And speaking of in-house.

The blonde headed back behind the bar when Kong saw Kat approach and speak to him before taking the bottle herself, a fierce look on her face when she approached the one who demanded it. Whatever she said to him sent his fingers fumbling for his wallet and the cash he quickly extracted and forked over. He looked fucking contrite too. Another face Kong didn’t recognize. If the dressing down he was receiving from Kat was any indication of how she felt about him, he wouldn’t be around long enough to be worth meeting.

The blonde with the mismatched eyes, though, now that was another story.

“Creature, always a pleasure,” Kong said as he stood, drained his beer, and carried the empty mug up to the bar to drop it off and have a word with the object of his obsession.

“Better not take two years before we do that again,” Creature called out as he walked away.

Kong was sure it wouldn’t, not now that he was home for good. He’d left a good man up in Kill Devil Hills that he’d trained personally. Draven would be more than capable of handling any new construction plans that cropped up. He was a good guy, if a little mouthy sometimes. But his fists could back up whatever shit his tongue got him into, and that had earned the Outer Bank’s chapter’s respect.

In the end, that was one of the few things a man could take with him to his grave. The respect of his or her club brothers, the kutte they were buried with, and a bottle of their favorite whiskey to sip until they reached the other side.

Chapter 2

(Scout)

It had been crazy busy all night, but people were finally filtering out of the bar and down to the beach for the bonfire, and it was a good thing too, since the kitchen had already announced last call on taking orders. When he turned from restocking the tequila, he spotted the big man he’d been eyeing all night watching him from the other side of the bar and instantly felt a surge of energy course through him as he sauntered over.

“Can I make you something, or would you like me to refill that?” Scout asked, inclining his head towards the mug in the big man’s hand.

“You wanna make me something, you can make me happy and get your ass up on the bar, then pass me a bottle,” the massive guy remarked, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“You want the bottle first, or my ass?”

“Surprise me.”

Jaw-dropping, he reached for the hem of his shirt, then immediately glanced over at Ms. Kat to make sure he wasn’t about to fuck up.

“You’re free to give the man whatever he wants,” she said.

That was all he needed to hear to get him moving. He stripped down to a purple thong with playtime written across the front and his boots, glad he’d worn the cutoffs because he never would have been able to get jeans off over them.

“Goddamn, boy, if that’s what you’re offering, let me get in on it too,” another man called, the big one the first guy had been arm wrestling; Scout was pretty sure his name was Creature.

“With all due respect, brutha, you can fuck off right now,” the first man said. “To the victor goes the spoils tonight, all of them, so keep your hands off him.”

“Hey, it’s all good,” Creature said, holding his hands up and stepping back. “I’ll catch him another time.”

“Maybe,” the first guy said, before nudging him aside as Scout passed him the bottle of tequila he’d shoved under the bar so he wouldn’t have to make another trip to the backroom.

“I can get you something different if you want.” Scout offered.

“Nope, just don’t go skimping on the lime and salt.”

“Yes, sir,” Scout replied, and immediately started cutting a trio of limes into wedges as Ms. Kat started hustling people towards the door.

“All of you, git,” she growled, brandishing a metal spoon at those who’d lingered or doubled back on their way out the door. “Let Kong enjoy his welcome home in peace.”

Oh, shit. This was Kong. Anyone could see how the man got his name. Letting his eyes drift up that massive torso, Scout made him for 6’7, easy, and only because his older brother stood a solid 6’3 and Kong was noticeably bigger than him.

Scout set a bowl of flavored margarita salt on the bar beside the limes and tequila before hopping up on the bar and stretching out, a human offering for Kong to do with as he wished.

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