Page 6 of Rider Daddies
I turn and see a bride.
Saint switches on a white spotlight, making the woman the center of the room.
“Saint?” I hiss in his ear. “Stop fucking around.”
“I want to see her better.”
I go to look at her but end up watching Ryder, instead. The girl he’s been entertaining tonight disconnects their hands and walks off in a huff. I laugh a little, watching as he stands still, in just as much of a trance as Saint. I don’t even think Ryder knows the girl has walked away in a sulk. He probably doesn’t even know she exits anymore, since the woman in the wedding dress seems to be the only person existing in Ryder’s world at the moment.
And when I finally take a good look at her, I can see why. Oh my god. It looks like she’s been dragged through a hedge backward, but that doesn’t take away from her beauty. Her dark hair falls around her face. It comes down to her shoulders, which are sun-kissed and bronzed like the rest of her body. Unlike most of the clubhouse whores, she doesn’t have any tan lines from bikini straps, which makes me think that the bronzed glow is her natural skin color.
Her eyes are a rich brown, staring out into the room, wide. She looks like a deer in headlights,literally, with her slender frame and dark features.
Upon closer inspection, I notice that her dress is ripped. What happened? Did she run away from her own wedding?
Conversations start to emerge. There’s staggered laughter. I catch some of the bikers turning to one another and exchanging keen looks. I know those looks all too well. Ryder and Saint have that same look in their eye when they’re getting to know a woman.
And for some reason, it’s getting under my skin, making me want to do something drastic, like punch everybody down so I can get there first.
I turn to Ryder. Surprisingly, he doesn’t share the same look as the other patch members. A different kind of expression has settled on his face. He looks more mesmerized, speechless that the universe has granted him his wish.
She doesn’t look American, that’s for sure.
I turn back to the woman, studying her face some more. She looks concerned, eyes even wider than before as she flicks them around the main room, probably trying to figure out what this place is.
Her lips are dry. How long has she been without water? Her cheeks have a powdering of black on them. Car fumes? Smoke? Some parts of the dress are stained black too.
She’s wearing a silver necklace. I make the mistake of following the chain down to her breasts, so now I’m fixated on her chest. The dusting of smoke has gotten to her cleavage too. For somereason, that turns me on, balls tightening as all of the blood drains south. I have never gotten fully hard from just looking at a woman before; this is the first time.
I don’t even realize that the music has started back up again, that the spotlight has been replaced by other, flashing neon lights, until Saint elbows me in the side. “You’re supposed to be at the bar, bro. The money isn’t gonna make itself.”
I almost walk over there, but I can’t even fucking move. I have an additional leg.
And I’m about to make it worse by going over to talk to her.
3
RYDER
“Shotgun,”I say, swooping into Ash before he has the chance to go over and talk to her. “She’s mine. I will have to kindly ask you to back off.”
“Fucking hell,” he grunts. “It looks like the woman has just run away from her own wedding. Have some respect. The last thing she’s gonna want is you laying it on thick with her all night.”
I stick up my eyebrow. “Ever heard of a rebound?”
“Ever heard of respect?”
Ash has done well for himself, and I commend him for that, but he still gets on my last nerve. He’s forty-two years young, not a fucking grandpa with a shriveled up pair of balls. He likes to keep Saint and me in check. I guess he feels that it’s duty as an older brother to step in as father since we no longer have one.
But he needs to chill the fuck out.
Anyway, I suppose it’s not all bad. Him being all mature and respectful about our latest arrival only opens the door wider for me.
But before I get the chance to go over and introduce myself, Ash is already over there, dragging her away from a table of patched members who are already trying to wedge their way in.
Bastard.
I rush over, caught off guard by her scent. She smells like lavender and honey.
