5 Bikers for Valentines

“You know which one,” he said, his voice colored with excitement. “The one that takes no shit from anyone. I love a feisty woman.”

Yeah, I knew exactly which one he'd meant. He was right, she didn't take shit from anybody. Small, but fierce. There was definitely something sexy about that. I could see why Greg was practically wetting himself.

“Carly or something like that...”

“Casey,” I said.

Greg shot me a half-grin. “Ah man, you know her name,” he said. “Maybe she can help you forget all about Danielle.”

“No, I think I'm going to pass,” I said. “Not into rebounds, Greg. You know that.”

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged. “I'll make sure to tell you how she is in the sack.”

“Yeah, you stand as much of a chance of getting her into the sack as I do of driving my car to Mars.”

Greg was strictly a trust-fund kid. Daddy's money took care of him, so he could travel the world and claim to be a socialite. Nightclubs had even paid for his very presence – and for what? Just to claim they had a billionaire playboy frequent the club? I guess it brought in the ladies or something like that. Still, I had a hard time calling it a job.

He'd always had the inside scoop on the best places to party, though, which was why we'd made a good pair. Even though I found him to be a raging doucehbag most of the time, we'd practically grown up together, so he got a pass from time to time.

We slid into a corner booth that faced the dance floor, which was currently filled with bright lights, more prismatic colors, and lots of women wearing next to nothing, bumping an

d grinding with the music. Lots of skin, long hair, long legs, short skirts, big tits – suffice it to say, the view was pretty incredible from our booth.

The wall behind us was a large, ever-flowing waterfall with more lights streaming out of it. The name, Obelisk, came from the fact that the nightclub itself was several stories tall, with different levels, some of them feeling like hidden retreats. I had no doubt about what happened in some of the little nooks and crannies within the club – places where the light did not shine. There were stories aplenty about the goings-on in those hidden spaces.

High-end call girls could almost always be seen around the bar. You could just as easily order up a blowjob as you could a vodka-tonic. Your choice of blondes, brunettes, redheads – and even one fierce looking femme with pink, green and blue mermaid-inspired hair was available if you were into that.

Mermaid girl caught me staring. She gave me a toothy smile and slipped from the bar, walking toward us.

“Oooh, she might be the answer to your Danielle problems,” Greg said, licking his lips as he checked the girl out. “No rebound, just a night of unbridled fucking. Sounds like the perfect way to get over her to me. Just hate-fuck that girl and get Danielle out of your system, brother.”

“I don't need to fuck around, Greg,” I said. “I've got bigger things to worry about than getting over my ex.”

Mermaid girl leaned over the table with a big smile, her face covered in glitter. Maybe without all the makeup and glitter, she might have been attractive, but I didn't have a sea creature fetish and glitter was a pain in the ass to get of your clothes and hair.

“My name is Leilani,” she purred, her voice like velvet.

It's magical how high-end hookers can do that sort of thing with their voice. I've never known other women who can sound so sensual and sultry doing nothing more than giving you their name. I highly doubt her name was Leilani though. She looked more like a Jamie or a Sarah to me. Plainish, girl-next-door, with garish makeup to help her stand out.

“Greg,” he held out his hand. “And this is Malcolm, my good friend who happens to need a world-class humping.”

“Shut the hell up, Greg,” I said, annoyance and embarrassment flooding my body.

Leilani looked over at me, and asked, “May I join you?”

“No thanks,” I said.

She pouted.

“I'm not into paying for sex,” I explained.

Greg slapped me on the arm and I gave him a look of sheer irritation.

“What? It's the truth,” I snapped. “If you're into it, go for it. But I've never had to pay someone to fuck me, and I never will.”

Leilani saw that she was getting nowhere and left with an annoyed roll of the eyes. Greg stared at me, mouth open.

“What? I didn't want to waste the poor girl's time,” I said. “Unless you wanted to fuck her. If so, have at it. I'm not going to stop you.”