Chapter One
“Why don’t you scoot on up here and sit on my face?” Celebrating his thirtieth birthday at the Bold and Free clubhouse, Kurt Dandridge wasn’t just tying one on. He was as drunk as a skunk and unable to perform. Never in his thirty years had he experienced such a profound disgrace.
To add insult to injury, his partner for the hour was Eva Mallory. Considered sleeker than a brand new Harley with all the bells and whistles, Eva wasn’t an average club broad. Still a little wet behind the ears, some men compared her to a premium machine waiting for the right biker to roll her off the showroom floor and give her one helluva ride.
Eva possessed extraordinary gifts and natural curves, but Kurt wouldn’t learn of her performance value anytime soon. The only thing he could do at the moment was touch her silken skin and dream of better days, which wouldn’t have been a problem if Eva had left him alone.
He’d been nodding off for the better part of an hour, but Eva wouldn’t grant him the courtesy of sleep. Supposedly someone encouraged her to show him a good time and she wasn’t about to walk away from the experience without some sort of bragging rights to an intimate incident between them.
“It’s your birthday, Kurt.” She nudged his hip with hers. “I’ll do the sucking.”
“I didn’t say anything about sucking, lover.” Kurt slurred his words. He paused between independent syllables as simple phrases fell like boulders from his parched lips.
The room was spinning. His head was splitting. To make matters worse, he saw a couple of Evas and every last one of those bitches wanted to fuck him.
“Bring that sweet pussy on up here and I’ll treat ya right,” Kurt promised, thinking about another woman, one he could’ve sworn he’d seen a long time ago.
Her jet-black hair cascaded over solid shoulders and her ivory-snow skin blushed just so when she shot him a smile. The fantasy rolled through his mind’s eye over and over again and seldom varied. He could make out her facial features and the fullness in her chest but whenever he started to dip his gaze a little lower and take in the whole daydream, she disappeared in his mind somewhere.
Slightly disturbed, Kurt rolled over to his side. The woman in his head must’ve been famous since he knew for a blamed fact he hadn’t personally enjoyed her. He was sort of pissed because Eva wasn’t the woman he’d imagined and a little irked when he couldn’t remember where he’d seen the fantasized gal.
“It’s your birthday,” Eva hummed. “Let me help you celebrate.”
“What part of I’m drunk don’t ya get?” He was a second shy of being a son of a bitch.
Instead of acting like a real ass, he reached behind his back, grabbed a feather-filled pillow and snuggled close. Maybe now Eva would get the message.
He was tired, or more accurately, good and slop
py. A smarter woman would’ve heeded the earlier advice from the more experienced club broads. He specifically remembered a few of them slinging words of wisdom in Eva’s direction.
“The fellas plan to get him soused early,” one of them had said.
If Eva had wanted a piece of him, she should’ve propositioned him earlier that afternoon. Since then, he’d gulped down a few dozen shots and put away a number of cold ones. He’d slurped a fruity beverage or two and toasted his birthday with a single malt scotch in one hand and vodka in the other.
Apparently every biker from Atlanta to the Canadian border had heard about his birthday party. They’d stopped by to pay their respects. Kurt nearly gagged on the thought.
Yeah, buddy. They’d come to see another badass succumb to the mating call.
Here he was ninety days or less away from meeting his woman and he couldn’t even manage a hard-on for Eva, quite possibly the finest looking woman in the South. To make matters worse, she possessed a firm body made specifically for endurance fucking.
Again he fantasized about the breathtaking gal with a dazzling smile. Shucks. She probably didn’t even exist.
Just super, he mused. He was cuddling with a pillow, thinking about a woman he’d imagined in his mind while ignoring the hot gal beside him.
He’d make it up to Eva later. Yeah, buddy. He could think a mean thought or two when he couldn’t so much as stroke that thing.
“You’re missing out.” Eva must’ve been somewhere across the room. Her voice echoed with a reverberating quality. Each syllable seemingly resounded with an added boing, boing, boing.
“I could’ve put you to bed with the sweetest of dreams.”
Boing. Boing. Boing.
Kurt wished she’d just shut the fuck up.
He couldn’t understand why a woman like Eva wanted to be a club broad anyway. The way she looked, not to mention those apparent charitable qualities she possessed, she should’ve been a billionaire’s banged-up bride.