Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76807 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
He didn’t even offer to give me the old two-finger-salute, she’d griped the next morning. What happened to being a gentleman?
“Hot guys are always a drag,” I agreed, even if I hadn’t actually hooked up with anyone in, god, was it five months? Six?
I’d been stuck in my ‘rotting-in-bed-and-scrolling-social-media’ slump for the months leading up to Clay’s passing. And since, well, I’d been focusing on things I wanted to do. Not people I wanted to do.
Though, I mean, that was one of the things people regretted on their deathbeds, right?
It was always the same three things.
Working too much.
Not spending enough time with family.
And not fucking as often as possible.
Who was I to argue with generations of people who made it to ripe old age, full of life and wisdom, and still thought that banging was one of the best human experiences?
Maybe tonight would be the night I got laid.
“Where?” I asked.
“I didn’t even get a chance to ask,” Sage admitted, shaking her head. “She said she’s getting a ride and would swing by to pick us up. Her friends must be busy if she’s stooping low enough to bring her big sister.”
“Or she loves you and wants to spend time with you.”
To that, Sage’s brows raised.
“You’re right. Her friends bailed.”
“So, you’re in, right?
“I’m in,” I agreed.
“Meet me at my place after work. We will get something to eat and get pretty together.”
It was so high school that I couldn’t help but smile.
Though, in high school, we didn’t pregame on premixed strawberry margaritas and stuff a bunch of condoms into our little wristlets that were just big enough for a card, some cash, and our phones. So fitting the condoms in was a feat.
“Come on!” Meadow called as she laid on the buzzer for Sage’s apartment. “We have bad decisions to make that we have to pretend to regret in the morning.”
Sage and I shared a smile before rushing downstairs, where we found Meadow waiting for us on the sidewalk wearing a bright yellow swimsuit with a Stevie Nicks style black lace cover-up over it, the front completely open, showing off her shapely body.
Sage often joked that the universe messed up her and Charlotte’s portions—Sage having giant boobs and Charlotte having a very flat chest—and had given Meadow the perfect figure.
She was busty, but with proportional hips, thighs, and an ass.
Where Charlotte dyed her red hair blonde, and Sage dyed hers a deep auburn, Meadow had light, pretty strawberry blonde.
They all had similar delicate face shapes, but where Sage’s eyes were pure gray, Meadow’s leaned a bit blue-gray.
“Finally,” Meadow said, checking us out. “Your tits look amazing,” she told her sister. “And I want to know how many squats I’d need to do to get an ass like that,” she said to me.
We’d both opted to put dresses over our bathing suits, ones that hugged our curves because, quite frankly, we wanted to get ogled by some hot guys. If not more than that.
“This is Theo,” she said, waving to the ride-share driver who was trying to pretend he wasn’t looking all of us over. “He likes country music and he doesn’t think I should get my pussy pierced.”
At just the mention of that, Theo’s ears went beet red.
“You asked a random stranger if you should get your hood pierced?” Sage asked, shaking her head.
“Well, I wanted an objective third-party opinion from someone of the male persuasion. And the guy at the coffee place blanched and ran away when I asked. Literally ran. Boys,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Tonight, we party with men. I bet one of them will give me their opinion on pussy piercings, right, Theo?” she asked, climbing into the front with the poor guy who looked like he was moments away from becoming a tomato. “Take us to the party!” she declared, rolling her window down, and cranking the music up. Notably, not country.
“I forgot how crazy your sister is,” I said, shaking my head as we pulled away from the curb.
“I know. I raised her well,” Sage said, smiling.
Maybe I should have been more worried about not knowing our destination, but I was with a group, and it seemed like Meadow knew these people, so I relaxed in the backseat, humming along to the music, conjuring up the image of the perfect kind of guy to take back to my place for some sweaty, no-strings-attached fun.
It wasn’t until the car pulled up out front of a fenced building that I felt myself tensing.
Because there were a shitton of bikes out front.
Which, really, could only mean one thing.
This was a biker club.
“What are you waiting for?” Meadow called. “We are probably three drinks behind already!”
“You coming?” Sage asked, head tipped to the side as she watched me.
“Yeah,” I said, shaking off the weird feeling.
I mean, there was no reason to think this was an outlaw biker club. There were tons of biker organizations in the area. Only two of them were the one-percenter kind.