Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45228 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
"I'll show you my tits." She lifts a brow, folding her arms and smirking.
She's all right looking, but nothing special. She thinks she is, though. I laugh, full-on belly laugh. "Bitch, look where you are. I've seen more titties than a milk farmer. I don't need to see your small ass titties."
"Fuck you," she hisses.
"No thanks," I mock.
I get to the end of the hallway when she calls, "I got some weed."
Now she's talking.
I find my dad's club whore in the kitchen talking to Jimmy, my old man's VP. No doubt he's warning her to stay out of the way while the wives are around. "Jackie, will you change my sheets for me later?" I ask, scratching the back of my neck. I hate asking her for shit. She turns to me, a huge, lipsticked smile on her face.
"Sure thing, sweetie. Anything for you," she coos, hoping being up my ass will score points with my dad giving her status that’s more than his whore.
When you're raised in a clubhouse, you grow up real quick. Most days, I feel more put together and mature than half these bitches hopeful if they linger long enough, they'll be put on the back of a bike. No biker wants club ass as an ol' lady, no matter how good that ass is—or so Uncle Joe tells me, aka Crazy Joe.
I steer my way through the packed club. All the families are here for my sixteenth birthday barbecue. A weird vibe always accompanies these get-togethers. Despite club sluts not being allowed on family days—bar a few who work here—there's still the off chance one will show up to cause drama. Drew and I live for those moments. I don't know why they have ol' ladies and a girl on the side too. That's just more work, but what do I know? I just turned sixteen, and the only girl in my life is Drew—and she's basically a dude.
"Why do I have to be here? This place is like a zoo. And it smells like one," Riley moans to anyone who will listen. Her old man was her mother's dirty little fling while in college. Little did she know that weekend of rebellion would tie her to him for the rest of her life. Every weekend, Riley’s forced to leave her mansion and private school asshats to slum it with us lower beings. She’s a couple years older than me, but acts like a pre-teen diva. I hang back when I spot Drew with her in the circle of girls.
Drew has always been a tomboy. She fucking hates those bitches.
"That gross boy is staring at you again, Drew." Riley places a finger in her mouth, pretending to gag. When she doesn't gesture with her eyes to me, I follow her gaze with a frown.
A prospect named Kai smirks at them, his eyes on Drew. He tips his beer at her when she turns to look, her cheeks flaming bright red. Kai’s nineteen, maybe twenty. He’s only been around a few months. From what I can tell, the brothers like him, but the prick keeps sniffing around fourteen-year-olds, they won’t for long.
Drew doesn't even dress for attention. She's got on a white baggy tee—which I’m pretty sure is mine—under overalls. Her hair is longer these days, hanging past her shoulders, but she doesn't do anything with it. It's a mass of curls. She's not like Riley and the other girls who plaster their faces with makeup. Drew doesn't need that shit.
"Dare you to go over there and talk to him." Riley pushes, and the other girls giggle. "No way she would. She's practically dating Alec."
"Ewww. Alec would not date her," Heidi sneers, and Drew flips her the bird.
Heidi's been trying to get in my pants since she was twelve. She's pretty—too pretty. Blonde hair, blue eyes, sleeps with teddy bears on her fucking bed. No thanks.
"I'll talk to him," Drew says, shocking the hell out of everyone.
I dodge some brothers trying to buy me a beer and move to the hall with a better view of where Kai is propped against the bar.
Riley fluffs Drew's hair, getting her hands smacked away for her efforts.
Placing her hands in her pockets, Drew walks toward him. A few other brothers loiter, but most people are out back with their families getting food.
I can't hear what she says, but I can see the nervous blinking. She looks over her shoulder at Riley, who bobs her head and mouths, "Go on."
Rolling her eyes, Drew bends down to tie her Doc. Martens that don't need tying. Kai eyeballs her ass, then his hand comes down, grabbing a handful—and I want to break it off at his wrist. She's not some bitch who comes here looking to be mauled by a big bad biker; she's a brother's kid. Kai lacks respect, and respect is everything.