Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109640 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
She sighed and turned to Midas. “Do you know who’s in charge here?”
Midas looked past her and jerked up his chin. “The big man there following Hook.”
She turned to see a huge dude with a lumbering gait following closely behind the bartender. Hook stopped in front of another customer but pointed in her direction.
The manager, also wearing a Demons cut, paused and gave her a good once-over before coming over. “Asked for me?”
She quickly scanned his name patch. Bulldog. Well, that fit. Though bulldogs were usually cuter, and she always had the urge to boop their noses. Her gut instinct told her that this bulldog wouldn’t appreciate that. “I need a job and I’m wondering if you have any openings.”
“What kinda job?”
“I’ve worked in bars before. I can sling drinks or serve tables.” She noticed that one patch on his cut declared him Sgt. at Arms and the other said Uniontown.
Shaking his head, Bulldog’s belly bounced when he chuckled. “Table service? Here?”
“Someone has to collect the empties, right? Why not drop off full drinks while doing that? It might encourage the patrons to spend more since they won’t have to fight the crowd at the bar to get service. I’ll assume more money for this establishment means more money in your own pocket.”
He pulled on his bearded chin as he considered her words. “Problem is, I don’t wanna fuckin’ pay someone to do that.”
That was an easy fix. “I can work for tips to start. Then, if you’re happy with my work, you can put me on the payroll.”
One side of his mouth pulled up. “Ain’t no payroll here. You’d be better off working at McDonald’s for tips.”
Say what? “No one tips at McDonald’s.”
“Exactly.”
Was he trying to be funny? If so, his humor fell flat. “Look… My man’s habit’s fucking expensive. I got laid off from my last job and now I’m looking for anything you can give me to put money in my pocket.”
He reached out and used his thumb to drag her bottom lip down. “What can you do besides wrap that pretty little mouth ‘round a big fat cock?”
She yanked her head away, breaking his hold.
Yuck. Not that she would ever do that, but if she did, she would have to rinse out her mouth with peroxide to avoid picking up any diseases. Because simply standing among them proved that these outlaw bikers weren’t keen on good hygiene.
She fought a gag even thinking about giving head to any of them.
“Look… Just give me a shot. If it doesn’t work out for you, then no loss, right? You won’t be losing out on any money. Only my time will be wasted. That’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
His dark eyes raked over her. “You gonna dress like that when you’re workin’?”
She glanced down. “You don’t like my outfit?”
“Didn’t say that. You wanna make good tips, might wanna show more fuckin’ skin. Show more of your tits.” His gaze honed in on her chest and he frowned. “Ain’t got much to show off, though.”
Ouch. “Got it. More tits and ass. I can do that.” She’d stuff her damn bra if she had to.
Crew might blow a damn gasket, but, in reality, he didn’t need to know what she’d be wearing or that she’d be enhancing her chest region.
“So, what do you think? It’ll make my ol’ man happy since I’ll be bringing home the bacon and also something special for him.” She lifted the disposable coffee cup. Bulldog’s eyes stuck to that for a few seconds before returning to her face. “And again, it won’t cost you a thing.” Except your freedom when your club goes down.
“Who’s your ol’ man?”
“Throttle. And, before you ask, no, he’s not in an MC.”
“He got a sled?” Bulldog asked.
A sled? Wait… Wasn’t that what these MC members called their bikes? “Yeah, he’s got a badass sled.”
“He wanna prospect with the Demons?”
“I’ll ask him. But he prefers being independent and beholden to no one.” She wondered if he knew what the word beholden meant.
Why the hell were they discussing a non-existent ol’ man instead of the job she wanted?
She mentally sighed. Women were second class citizens to them, that was why. “So, how ‘bout it? Will you give me a shot? It’s not going to cost you a damn thing. It’ll be risk free.”
“Bitches are always a fuckin’ risk.” He shook his massive head. “But yeah, if you wanna work for free, ain’t gonna stop you. You cause problems, though, and your ass is gonna be thrown outta here. Got it?”
She smothered her smile and nodded. “Got it! Thanks for the opportunity. You won’t regret it.”
Until you’re trying desperately not to drop the soap, then you might.
“I can start tonight, if you want.”
“I don’t give a fuck what you do. Just stay the fuck outta my way.”