Page 2 of Outlaw
Silas
“Are you sure, Si? Just because it’s what the club’s always done, doesn’t mean we can’t switch it up…or shouldn’t. Our old men had their backs in a corner. We have a lot more options.”
“Just trust me.” I slap my Sergeant at Arms and best friend, Axe Voltaire, on the back through his leather cut. “I haven’t fucked up our money stream yet, right?”
Axe groans as he pours us another shot of Jack Daniels. He takes a swift swig straight from the bottle, slamming it back down on the clubhouse bar. “Doesn’t mean you can’t still fuck it up.”
“Cynical prick.”
“Arrogant fuck.”
A curvy blonde leans against the long mahogany bar between us and runs a painted fingernail down my forearm. She smiles seductively, with a sultry look in her eye. It’s as subtle as being hit in the face by a Mack truck. No doubts on where she’ll be tonight. I warm up real quick to the idea of her jammed between my thighs. I give her a smirk, leaning forward to enjoy the view of her cleavage in that silky halter-top.
“Watch your language, boys,” she admonishes with a giggle. “I love a dirty mouth.”
“I’m way more interested in what your sweet mouth can do besides talking,” I tell her, throwing back my shot. I slide the shot glass over to Axe and don’t have to look over to know I’m getting a refill.
“Why don’t you come with me and find out?” she teased.
I give Axe a head nod and get off my bar stool. “Give me a second, brother.” I follow the blonde across the clubhouse common room and down a quieter hallway, stopping halfway down the corridor. “Show me what you got.”
This vixen is definitely not shy. She drops to her knees, and begins tugging feverishly at my belt and zipper, eyes seductive, bright red lips parted and ready. I’m hard just looking down at her. Which is good, because not two seconds later, her hand reaches into my pants and frees my dick. She runs her hot, slick tongue up and down my shaft, and as those sexy lips wrap around my head, suctioning so hard… I have to grip her hair to stop myself from coming.
Such a sweet, talented mouth. I admire her effort as she moves up and down my dick, and a second later she reaches one hand around my balls, kneading them with the same rhythm as her mouth. She’s sucking, then rolling her tongue around the head, then the hand massaging my balls, and repeating it like a well-calibrated machine. Gripping her hair tight into my fist, I pump faster as her bright hazel eyes flutter closed as though giving me head is getting her closer to her climax. She lets out a deep moan from the back of her throat, and the vibration travels from the tip of my dick all the way up my shaft. Not long after, I cum hard in her cute mouth. I’m short on time, so for now, I wrap it up after letting her swallow my cum and lick off the excess. From the look on her face, she really enjoys that part.
Pulling her to her feet, I give her a wink and button my fly. “Nice work, doll. Let’s do that again sometime.”
She giggles, then saunters off to the back of the clubhouse. I return to my drink at the bar. “Where was I?”
“So… this meeting you insist on going to on your own.”
“Right. What do you think is gonna happen tonight? I have it in hand. Just follow my lead.”
My gaze drifts toward the blonde groupie who just got back to her spot at the other end of the bar, standing with one of the other chicks. Around here, we call them ‘sack demons’.
“How was she?”
“Not bad. She can stay.”
“Cool. So, on this new deal, you’re asking for a lot on blind faith, Si.”
“Day in and day out, brother.”
We carelessly clink glasses, splashing small amounts of booze on the counter, then knocking it back. Seconds later, the bar-tending sack demon grabs the glasses and wipes the spill without missing a beat. Whether it was sucking our dicks or serving us liquor, they all knew what to do - what was expected of them. If not, they were gone. The rush of liquor burns the lining of my stomach, adding to my buzz, which can’t hurt, considering what’s on the schedule tonight. I’ll be wrapping up a simple arms deal. It’s for a new client associated with the Italian mafia. Usually it’s no big deal, but this client was referred by our top associate. And as it’s my first meeting, everything needs to go smoothly. The only thing variable I need to have better control over is Los Diablos MC. Lately, they’re more like rivals than neutrals. I don’t need those loose cannon fuckers to stir up shit while I’m working.
“Silas?” The blonde purrs out my name while her palms creep up my bicep and graze underneath my cut. And as she starts massaging my shoulders, goddammit, I’m near close to letting her continue the game she began, but as much as I would like an instant replay of those hands wandering down inside my pants again, I was never one to put pussy before club business.
“Listen, sweetheart. I got some stuff to take care of, but you look like a nice tight ride, perfect for bending over and slapping from behind… maybe when I get back.” I skim my fingers along her soft cheek down to her chin. “Raincheck until then?”
She objects with a pout on those perfect lips and her nose crinkles. “Okay,” she whined.
I slide my next shot her way. “Have a drink. It’ll keep you warm until then.” I hop off the bar stool and pivot away from her as the palms of her hands slip down the front of my cut.
A few more sack demon bombshells navigate toward my orbit, scantily dressed and flirty; I remind myself to give props to whoever has the task of recruiting pussy in the place. Tonight is already planned out though, and I have a schedule to stick to. Raising a hand to ward off the sweet pieces of ass on the approach, I pass through the crowd of people that Satan's Saints Motorcycle Club calls its extended family. Without looking around, I know that Axe is following my lead. Our business is too sensitive to be addressed in the open area of the clubhouse. We can never be too careful in the business we’re in. No one needs our secrets shared with the wrong guy with a bike, half-decent ink and an open wallet.
The second I close the door to the meeting room, Axe starts laughing way too hard. I look my best friend up and down, leaning against the club table. He’s still at it and I don’t know why. As I wait, I light up a cigarette, cross my arms, and crack my neck to relax.
“Dude.”
