He took a long sip of his drink, and Rusty sighed.
“Can you believe that chick?” Rusty asked.
“What chick?”
“Elizabeth?”
Bull chuckled. “You took her for a test drive.”
“And got itchy balls because of it. Believe me, she didn’t even call me by my actual name.”
“I don’t want to know what she called any of you. It was bad enough that you had to come into the club and announce you had something wrong with your junk, and the fact it went around the whole club. Fucking gross.” At least he hadn’t been caught with it. The women who circled the club like vultures, he steered well clear of. The women he fucked, they knew the score, and he also made it a habit to never use women who liked to be passed between his men. Again, it was something he learned early in his life as a brother. When he was a young teenager, he’d taken a few girlfriends to the club, and they’d been more interested in gaining the banger’s patch than him.
Not that he had a problem with that. Women were free to fuck whomever they wanted. He didn’t slut-shame anyone. He simply didn’t want to be part of that play.
Finishing his beer, he turned on his stool and looked around the bar. He was a part owner in this place because he’d had no choice but to help out his old friend Thomas who had been pretty desperate after his old man put the profits on a couple of horses that were duds. Nearly lost everything, and Thomas had a family and his mother to take care of.
Bull, being the nice guy that he was, took care of the dad so he wouldn’t be making bets on the lives of his family again, and became a part owner of this bar. It wasn’t a huge profit, but it helped Thomas out, and they’d been friends since they were in diapers.
An unlikely friendship by all accounts. Thomas was super thin, gangly, with lots of pimples, and a pure nerd. Bull was the biker’s son, a rebel, a boy to be feared. They had started talking one day through detention, and they’d been friends ever since.
He was Thomas’s best man. No one thought he’d ever wear a suit, but he proved them all wrong.
“Look, I can’t help that every single piece of pussy wants a piece of this Rusty machine.”
Bull raised a brow at Rusty, who wrinkled his nose.
“Yeah, that doesn’t sound right. I’m not some grandpa. Anyway, you know what I mean.”
“I’m going to agree with you to just shut you up.”
“Nice one.” Rusty held up his fist, and Bull merely shook his head.
“Come on, man, bumping fists is cool.”
“If you’re a teenager, maybe.”
“Dude, you’re no fucking fun.”
“Then you should have come with Grant,” he said, mentioning his brother. Out of the two of them, Grant was the wild child, while he was … the sane, level-headed, responsible one. Not that he hadn’t experienced a certain level of crazy during his time, but that was all when he was younger. At forty-two years old with the Chaos and Carnage MC depending on him, he preferred to stay focused rather than going out of his way to pick fights.
“Speaking of Grant, if you want to have any questions asked, talk to him.”
“About what?”
“About your girl. We all know those two went to school together. I’m sure Grant has some info on her if you need it,” Rusty said. He glanced behind his back and smirked. “A hen party. This must be my lucky night.”
“I’ll get the doctor on call for some ball cream,” Bull said.
“Why don’t you come and have some fun with me?” Rusty asked. “We could tag team them. You used to enjoy that.”
“Go. I’ve got to head back to the club.” Sitting at the bar didn’t appeal to him. He sipped at his beer. Everyone but Pat went to go and corrupt the party full of engaged women.
“Not your scene?” Bull asked.
“No,” Pat said. He’d gotten home five years ago after finishing his final tour, an ex-soldier, but Bull had an idea the man had a lot more going on than being just a man to take orders.
No one talked to Pat about his nightmares, not then, and certainly not now. They were few and far between. Most of the time, they came when he allowed himself to let go. To just drink and drink until the memories faded, but it was like the alcohol let his guard down in his sleep because that was when the real shit happened.
“I’m heading back to the clubhouse. You want to come?”
Pat slapped his hand against the counter. On their way out, their boys cheered for them, and the women pouted as if they didn’t have enough cocks between them to keep them satisfied.
Bull went straight to his bike, straddling his machine that looked brand fucking new. He’d had this beast for nearly twenty years. The first bike his father had ever bought him. The only bike that had ever been purchased for him. He’d kept her in good nick, but being a mechanic helped him to keep all of the club running smoothly.
Turning over the ignition and feeling his baby purr to life, this was the stuff dreams were made of. He revved the gears and felt the power beneath his thighs.
Pat was already out of the bar’s parking lot and on the road. The guy was going to have to talk to someone soon, otherwise, he was going to crack.
Bull, while he was on his own, took a great deal of pleasure in just existing with his bike, enjoying the feel of her, but in doing so, it allowed his mind to wander, and he started to think of Maddie. The sweet, curvy woman he wanted to fuck.
There was no point denying it.
He’d tried to ignore his feelings for her. The desire to bend her over the nearest surface and to rub every single inch of those curves until he memorized them by touch alone. It wouldn’t be a hardship either.
Maddie had a body made for being touched. Actually, she had a body made to be worshiped.
He had fucked his way through a variety of women in his lifetime, and he was always drawn to the curves. To the full-figured woman. Maddie would fit into his arms with ease.
Bull wouldn’t be afraid of breaking her, unlike so many other women.
His dick was already getting hard thinking about it, but he wasn’t going to bang on some woman’s door, demanding to know why she was being so difficult.
Women fell on the floor for him. Practically begged him to fuck them. Maddie wasn’t like that. She didn’t beg, but one day, she was going to, and that victory would be so sweet.
After pulling out of the parking lot, he headed toward the clubhouse, not caring about the noise he made or the people he disturbed as he pushed his bike into doing what he wanted.
Chapter Two
“I am so sorry, Maddie. You know I would keep you if I could,” Casey said.
Maddie sat down in the diner, staring at the large cup of coffee. It wasn’t fancy. It didn’t have any of the foamed milk she loved so much. It was just a regular cup of coffee and to her, there was nothing wrong in that, but today had sucked.
She worked many jobs. The library being just one of them, but it did take up most of her day. The pay hadn’t been great, but now, due to a reduction in funding once again, she had lost that job this very morning.
The main source of her income.
The coffee wasn’t going to help.
She needed to find a job, pronto.