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)
That was if Crew didn’t pull her.
Tonight he’d watch her in action and decide. Only he wasn’t going to let her know that. At least not yet. He didn’t want her to change her behavior in any way as she interacted with the bikers, if he could avoid it.
She continued to pour beers, and mix drinks mostly made up of whiskey or vodka. But the majority of what she served was bottled beer.
She kept an opener tucked in her cleavage, obviously enhanced somewhat from what he could only guess was a push-up bra. When needed, she’d grab the opener, pop the cap and then shove it back in its place for easy access.
His lip curled up in a sneer. How many guys tried to take it from her just so they could touch her tits?
Hopefully, if they did, they now had broken fingers. If she hadn’t broken any, and he witnessed someone manhandling her, he’d be happy to assist.
Since he couldn’t belly up directly to the bar, he stood behind a couple of guys wearing Pagans cuts. Crew couldn’t hear a damn thing they were saying since they were talking low and the noise level around them was high.
He took the time to scan the bar patrons within his view to see if he could catch anything interesting. He saw nothing but drinking, smoking, joking, playing pool or darts. Typical biker bar activity.
“Brother, you need a beer or somethin’?” he heard to his right. When he looked toward the person asking, Crew was surprised to find the biker was talking to him.
Look at that, making friends wherever he went.
“Yeah, I do,” Crew answered.
The man stood and jerked his chin toward the now empty stool. “All yours. Gotta get home to my ol’ lady. I’m late one more fuckin’ time, ain’t gonna get none for a month.”
“That would suck.”
“No shit,” the biker said on a chuckle.
“Appreciate you givin’ me your spot.” Who knew outlaw bikers could be courteous?
“Ain’t a problem. And the view’s fuckin’ top notch. That new bartender gives me somethin’ to think about when I’m railin’ my ol’ lady. You might consider doin’ the same.”
Crew forced a smile even though that was the complete opposite of how he wanted to respond. “Thanks for the tip, but she’s actually my ol’ lady. No imagination needed.”
“Well, damn. Hope you don’t mind me thinkin’ about her when I’m bustin’ a nut in my woman.”
He kind of did. He wondered how one of these bikers would react if they were told the same thing. As entertaining as that might be, he wasn’t there to get into a scrap. He had a much tighter handle on his temper than probably the majority of the bikers in that bar.
Or he did. That might get tested tonight.
“Long as you’re only thinkin’ ‘bout it and ain’t actually doin’ it, don’t give a fuck. Have at it.” Crew shot him a cocky smirk. “I’m the only lucky bastard to get to fuck her for real.”
The biker whacked him on the back. “Least I get to borrow her up here.” He tapped his temple. “She’s young and perky. Bet she can go all night.” He took a step back and took a good look at Crew. “You, not so much, my man. Like ‘em young, huh?” He added a grin so big that Crew could actually see the man’s teeth, even with his mouth buried in long, unruly facial hair.
That had to be gross while eating. Food or pussy.
“You know how it is. Long as they’re legal… And if they ain’t, just lie.” Did that actually just come out of his fucking mouth?
“Can you keep up with her?”
Jesus Christ. “Fuck yeah,” Crew answered. “I let her do all the work.”
“That’s how you do it. Let ‘em spin on your dick while you sit back and enjoy.”
“You know it.”
“Think I’m gonna see if I can talk my ol’ lady into that tonight.” With that he turned and headed out, giving Crew a better look at this patches. Tainted Souls MC.
He made a mental note to do a little research on that club, too.
“Rootin’ for you, brother,” Crew called out, not sure if he was even heard above the din.
He quickly claimed the stool before someone else pushed their way into that spot. Once he got his ass settled, he tried to keep one eye on Cabrera and one on the bikers near him. He also kept his ears open as best as possible in case of any interesting chatter.
But despite trying to keep aware of the activities around him, his attention kept getting pulled back to Cabrera.
She still had no idea he was there. Or watching her.
Her makeup was heavy tonight and she wore a tight red tank top blinged-out with rhinestones and had the neckline cut out in a deep V to showcase that bottle opener-holding cleavage. She also wore a very short denim mini-skirt and some kind of wedge-heel sandals that emphasized her toned, tawny legs.