I’m not far behind him.
~*~*~*~*~
“Ah . . .”
I hear the feminine voice and my eyes flutter open. I look up to see two girls staring down at me. One of them I recognize as Santana, and the other is a girl I’ve never met, but she’s gorgeous. It takes me a moment to realize where I am, and then I sit up quickly, Diesel in my arms. He stirs, croaking, but nestles back into my boobs.
Then I realize what I’m wearing.
Or . . . what I’m not wearing.
Three, yes three bikers are standing by the front door, and they lazily let their gazes travel over me before smirks appear on their lips. Yeah, lap it up, boys; you won’t be seeing it again. Santana giggles, and her eyes flicker to the bikers who are still smirking. They’re hot. Like, über hot. One is huge and mega fine, all dark and dangerous. The one beside him is bad boy through and through, not as built as the first, but equally as handsome.
The third one is in a wheelchair, but damn, is he rockin’ it. He’s gorgeous but he has a really kind, gentle face. I recognize one of them from yesterday, so I’m guessing he’s close to Mack . . . or maybe Mack is like, their president or something. My eyes scan over their leather jackets. Nope, the big guy is the president, says so right there on his patch.
“Ah,” I say, still bouncing the baby. “I ah . . . he woke up and we fell asleep here . . .”
Santana reaches out and takes the baby, smiling at me. “Go and get some sleep. I’m happy to watch him for a few hours. You look exhausted.”
I stare down at my now empty arms. I feel kind of lost without him already. Looking back up at the girls, I murmur, “Thanks.”
The pretty girl beside Santana reaches a hand out and I take it. “I’m Ash,” she smiles.
“Jaylah, but call me Jay.”
“Jesus . . .”
Mack’s barking voice fills the room and I turn, staring at him. He’s shirtless, oh mamma, and he’s got his big arms crossed over his chest, glaring right at me. What? I’m not doing anything. Sheesh.
“What the fuck is goin’ on?” he demands.
I stare down at myself. Well, this does look a little suspicious considering I’m wearing a pair of tiny panties, and let me tell you, they’re tiny. Boyleg, showing a great deal of ass, and they ride low on my hips. Then there’s the top . . . well . . . the tiny tank that is cut way, way above my belly button. It’s the comfiest thing to sleep in, but not really appropriate when company is around.
Oh God . . . are my nipples hard? My God, they’re hard.
My hands go over my chest quickly and a little squeak leaves my lips. I look back to Mack and he’s staring at my body, his eyes all lusty chocolate-brown. Shit. When they meet mine again, some of his anger is gone, but he still looks totally broody.
“You doin’ a fuckin’ striptease?”
“Excuse me?” I snap, crossing my arms.
He nods his head. “What the fuck are you doin’ prancin’ around in that in front of my brother and the club?”
Brother? I gaze at the three by the door. No way are any of those guys Mack’s brothers.
“Hey!” he barks. “Look here.”
I turn back to him, arms still crossed, and snap, “I am not doing a striptease. I was sleeping on the couch and they just . . . came in.”
“You sleepin’ on the couch in fuck-me panties?”
My cheeks heat, and instead of speaking with my voice I make a little squeaking sound. Great. Well done, Jaylah. I’m sure he thinks you’re super cool now.
“They are not fuck-me panties,” I finally growl. “They’re just panties.”
“They’re fuck-me panties.”
Men.
I glare at him, and he glares back.
“Stop being an asshole, Chief,” Santana snaps, giving him some sass. Go, girl.
“Back down, Chante, this aint’ your business.”
“Excuse me,” she breathes. “But I created the ad, I’ve looked after your child for two weeks, and I took the damned call to get her over here. She was the only one who would even walk through the door after getting a look at you, so you’re going to stop being an asshole so she doesn’t leave.”
“Tana,” the big man behind us warns, his voice all sexy and husky.
She turns, giving him a bright smile. “I’m just saying.”
“Well, stop sayin’.” He grins.
“Ah,” I say, staring around the room.
“Poor girl.” Ash laughs. “Let me introduce you to the, ah, family.”
Jesus. Family.
“The big guy giving the fuck-me eyes to Santana, that’s Maddox. He’s the president of the club, and a giant pain in the ass.”
Maddox bares his teeth at Ash, and she simply blows him a kiss. Okay, then.
“Next to him you have my man, Beau Dawson, but you can call him Krypt. He’s the vice president, and is equally as pain-in-the-assey as Maddox.”
Assey? Is that even a word?
Krypt, handsome devil he is, winks at me. Oh, boy.
“And then you have Tyke. He’s not a pain in the ass and is a complete sweetheart.”
“Hey,” Tyke grunts. “Don’t ruin my rep.”
I smile at him, and he gives me a warm smile in return.
“You’ll meet the rest of the club later, lucky you, and don’t worry, they don’t bite.”
“Much,” Maddox grunts.
~*~*~*~*~
“Ah . . .”
I hear the feminine voice and my eyes flutter open. I look up to see two girls staring down at me. One of them I recognize as Santana, and the other is a girl I’ve never met, but she’s gorgeous. It takes me a moment to realize where I am, and then I sit up quickly, Diesel in my arms. He stirs, croaking, but nestles back into my boobs.
Then I realize what I’m wearing.
Or . . . what I’m not wearing.
Three, yes three bikers are standing by the front door, and they lazily let their gazes travel over me before smirks appear on their lips. Yeah, lap it up, boys; you won’t be seeing it again. Santana giggles, and her eyes flicker to the bikers who are still smirking. They’re hot. Like, über hot. One is huge and mega fine, all dark and dangerous. The one beside him is bad boy through and through, not as built as the first, but equally as handsome.
The third one is in a wheelchair, but damn, is he rockin’ it. He’s gorgeous but he has a really kind, gentle face. I recognize one of them from yesterday, so I’m guessing he’s close to Mack . . . or maybe Mack is like, their president or something. My eyes scan over their leather jackets. Nope, the big guy is the president, says so right there on his patch.
“Ah,” I say, still bouncing the baby. “I ah . . . he woke up and we fell asleep here . . .”
Santana reaches out and takes the baby, smiling at me. “Go and get some sleep. I’m happy to watch him for a few hours. You look exhausted.”
I stare down at my now empty arms. I feel kind of lost without him already. Looking back up at the girls, I murmur, “Thanks.”
The pretty girl beside Santana reaches a hand out and I take it. “I’m Ash,” she smiles.
“Jaylah, but call me Jay.”
“Jesus . . .”
Mack’s barking voice fills the room and I turn, staring at him. He’s shirtless, oh mamma, and he’s got his big arms crossed over his chest, glaring right at me. What? I’m not doing anything. Sheesh.
“What the fuck is goin’ on?” he demands.
I stare down at myself. Well, this does look a little suspicious considering I’m wearing a pair of tiny panties, and let me tell you, they’re tiny. Boyleg, showing a great deal of ass, and they ride low on my hips. Then there’s the top . . . well . . . the tiny tank that is cut way, way above my belly button. It’s the comfiest thing to sleep in, but not really appropriate when company is around.
Oh God . . . are my nipples hard? My God, they’re hard.
My hands go over my chest quickly and a little squeak leaves my lips. I look back to Mack and he’s staring at my body, his eyes all lusty chocolate-brown. Shit. When they meet mine again, some of his anger is gone, but he still looks totally broody.
“You doin’ a fuckin’ striptease?”
“Excuse me?” I snap, crossing my arms.
He nods his head. “What the fuck are you doin’ prancin’ around in that in front of my brother and the club?”
Brother? I gaze at the three by the door. No way are any of those guys Mack’s brothers.
“Hey!” he barks. “Look here.”
I turn back to him, arms still crossed, and snap, “I am not doing a striptease. I was sleeping on the couch and they just . . . came in.”
“You sleepin’ on the couch in fuck-me panties?”
My cheeks heat, and instead of speaking with my voice I make a little squeaking sound. Great. Well done, Jaylah. I’m sure he thinks you’re super cool now.
“They are not fuck-me panties,” I finally growl. “They’re just panties.”
“They’re fuck-me panties.”
Men.
I glare at him, and he glares back.
“Stop being an asshole, Chief,” Santana snaps, giving him some sass. Go, girl.
“Back down, Chante, this aint’ your business.”
“Excuse me,” she breathes. “But I created the ad, I’ve looked after your child for two weeks, and I took the damned call to get her over here. She was the only one who would even walk through the door after getting a look at you, so you’re going to stop being an asshole so she doesn’t leave.”
“Tana,” the big man behind us warns, his voice all sexy and husky.
She turns, giving him a bright smile. “I’m just saying.”
“Well, stop sayin’.” He grins.
“Ah,” I say, staring around the room.
“Poor girl.” Ash laughs. “Let me introduce you to the, ah, family.”
Jesus. Family.
“The big guy giving the fuck-me eyes to Santana, that’s Maddox. He’s the president of the club, and a giant pain in the ass.”
Maddox bares his teeth at Ash, and she simply blows him a kiss. Okay, then.
“Next to him you have my man, Beau Dawson, but you can call him Krypt. He’s the vice president, and is equally as pain-in-the-assey as Maddox.”
Assey? Is that even a word?
Krypt, handsome devil he is, winks at me. Oh, boy.
“And then you have Tyke. He’s not a pain in the ass and is a complete sweetheart.”
“Hey,” Tyke grunts. “Don’t ruin my rep.”
I smile at him, and he gives me a warm smile in return.
“You’ll meet the rest of the club later, lucky you, and don’t worry, they don’t bite.”
“Much,” Maddox grunts.
