Roux Tucker … the daughter of the man who was detaining her, loaned her a stack of clothes, but Roux was taller and skinnier, more beautiful, not that it mattered when she tried to pull on the jeans, but still… she could hardly walk in them and she was sick of those odious guys staring at her butt.
If they called her sweet bottom once more, she might… she might… well, she was too scared to do anything other than think mean things.
That was the other unpleasant thing.
This MC was full and she meantoverstuffedwith undesirable men who all thought it was funny as hell to tease her with vulgarity and innocuous staring at her chest and ass.
She’d never been so verbally abused before with sexual harassment.
“Ignore them,” Roux shrugged, unbothered, “the more you complain, the more they do it.”
Penelope noticed not one of those guys ever hit on Roux or said anything offensive.
In fact, they treated her like they were all her father.
Roux explained it was because she was a MC princess and therefore was hands off to every man who walked through the door.
That had to suck for her dating life, Penelope mused.
The men there weren’t terrible looking, some were in fact quite handsome in a roughhe chews glass and will kill yousort of a way.
“You don’t find none of them attractive?” She asked the girl sitting at her side in her biker boots and skinny jeans and ripped vintage shirt with the sleeves torn off.
Roux was a rock chick.
“God no.” She laughed. “They’re like my uncles, that would be seriously gross for me.”
In comparison to her new friend, Penelope was the complete opposite, looks wise.
With her mousy brown hair she had to dye to a darker shade every few weeks just to give it some life, otherwise it looked like burnt straw.
She was only an inch shorter than Roux, at 5’6, but she felt dumpy next to the other girl, mainly because Penelope had hips and an ass she just couldn’t get rid of no matter how much lettuce she ate or exercise classes she took.
The chunk just clung on for dear life.
She’d come to terms with her shape which was inherited from her granny.
She did love her green eyes, she received compliments on them all the time.
And her plump lips that were au natural.
She was terrified of needles so would never go for enhancements as her friends loved doing.
“What about the younger boys over here?”
“The prospects.” Roux filled in.
She was learning so many new things she didn’t even know existed.
A prospect was basically a modern day slave who was trying to initiate himself into the MC by doing a lot of crappy menial jobs.
Both girls cast their gazes to the pool table across the room. Around it was three guys, probably around their age or a bit younger. Penelope was twenty-six but could never truly guess someone’s age just from looking at them, another of her flaws.
She wasn’t good at anything, no discernible skills to speak of.
It truly sucked being useless.
Only good for marriage and popping out babies and being seen on the arm of someone prestigious to order foie gras for him coming home after doing his secretary in the coat closet.