Claiming the Biker (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV 9)

March

“Why are you dragging me to this fight again?”

“Hot dudes practically naked getting all sweaty. Need I say more? But hey if anyone gets injured it doesn’t hurt that you’re a nurse and can give stitches.”

I shake my head at my best friend. “East sees you drooling over anyone but him and he’ll spank your ass and ground you.” I poke a little fun at the age gap between Wylla Mae and her much older husband.

“I hope so,” she mutters, getting this dreamy look in her eyes.

I can’t blame her. Easton Reed is hot. He reminds me of that British soccer player David Beckham in the looks department. I never would have thought that they of all people would get together and have a child with another on the way. East dated her mom when we were kids, but Wylla Mae knew he was meant to be hers and that was that. She landed her motorcycle man. I don’t know that I could do it. Be with someone who had dated a family member no less my own mother. Only when I see the way East and Wylla are together there’s no doubt that they were made for each other. But hell, everyone has always been drawn to my best friend. Guys have always wanted her.

It’s something I’ve gotten used to over the years. Dating back to middle school when she grew a couple of inches, and her boobs began to develop she was the dream girl, and I was the duff. Designated ugly fat friend. I’ve always been taller than most girls with some weight on me.

I stare at my appearance in my floor length mirror knowing I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb. I’m no biker babe. Though tonight I’m dressing up and playing pretend in my ripped jeans and black heeled boots. This fight Wylla Mae is dragging me to is being held behind Royal Bastards MC clubhouse also known as The Devil’s Playground. It’s also illegal. Not that it matters. Wylla is married to the vice president of the motorcycle club and her father is the president who her mother finally married last month after like a twenty-year affair or something. I tug on the bottom of the tank top I’m wearing under my Jack Daniels logo t-shirt hoping it disguises my belly.

I’ve been to a couple of events at the clubhouse and the women who hang around are gorgeous. I mean of course there are some skanky sluts but still most have nice bodies from what I’ve observed. These guys while not all of them are hot they still pull fine ass. And me? I know where I measure on the hotness scale. I’ve made my peace with it.

I know I’m not the first girl men flock to when I enter the room.

“Lose the tee, Andi. I know what you’re doing, and you need to stop hiding behind layers. You look great and trust me. You’re going to catch the eye of everyone there. You’ve got legs, great hair, big tits, and ass for days. These men love all of what you got going on.”

I roll my eyes at her. “I’m no size eight.”

“I know what I’m talking about. No one wants to fuck a bag of bones. I hear the men talking about it. I’ve heard them talk about your ass more than once.”

My cheeks flame at her comment even if she is saying what any good friend would to stroke my ego and give me a confidence boost.

“Whatever.”

“Viking wants you there.” Her lips tip into a big smile.

“I told you. I’m not interested in dating a biker.”

“Who says you have to date him.” She sticks her tongue out at me.

“You’re a bad influence.”

“Nooo. I just happen to be a great best friend whose husband happens to be friends with hot as hell dudes like Viking that think my friend, namely you has a great ass.”

“I’m not like that. I can’t have sex with a guy because he’s hot. Guys like that will crush a girl like me.” I know from experience.

“He’s a good guy.”

“No more talk about Viking. I have a date tomorrow.”

“This that cop who keeps standing you up?”

“It isn’t like that. He has a busy job. It’s not like he can control getting a call out.”

“Yeah. Yeah. But if you were to hook up with Viking, we could double date.” I know what she’s saying without spelling it out. Her ol’ man as she calls him is the vice president of a biker club. The Royal Bastards MC. They rule this city. Dinner with a cop isn’t high on a guy like East’s list of priorities. “What’s his name anyway?”

“He has the perfect name for a cop. Justice.” My belly does a dip at the thought of him. We’ve been doing this back-and-forth dance where he tries to take me out, but our schedules never seem to line up.

Maybe it’s not meant for me to date.

“Detective Masters?”

That warm and special sensation turns ice cold. “You know him?” Of course she does. Wylla Mae is the type of person who gets noticed. I try to hide my disappointment. I’m not mad at her for it. It’s just the way my world seems to turn.

“Yeah. Um when Nickel got shot. He was the lead detective working that case or whatever.”

“Right.” Nickel from what I’ve been told by Wylla was the club vice president until he was murdered. Then East took on the role. I don’t know how she isn’t terrified every time East walks out the door that it could be the last. Another reason to stay away from men like Viking.

“He’s not well liked by the club…” she trails off and I leave the conversation there. I don’t want to get into club politics. It’s hard enough to navigate as a friend of the club.

I give up on disguising my belly. It’s not like I’m hoping to impress anyone there. Wylla Mae is the pregnant one and yet my stomach could pass as bigger than hers.

We get to the clubhouse and my belly flutters in excitement. There’s another club here. Birds of Hell MC. I guess Viking is fighting one of their guys. Not that I care.

What I haven’t told my best friend is that we hooked up once. He said he’d call, and he didn’t. Then I saw him cuddled up with a club girl. She was hanging all over him and I know he knew I was watching. The asshole shot me a fucking grin. One I wanted to slap off his smug face. That was when I decided that friends are all we will ever be. I like him as a person. He’s likable when he wants to be, but what I won’t be is a girl he strings along. I’m not cut out for that. I can’t stay up night after night wondering where he is and who he is with. That’s not a life I want.

Which yeah, I know sounds like the biggest contradiction considering I’ve agreed to go out with a cop. Justice is different though. When he’s unreachable I know it’s because he’s serving our city. Making it safer. He’s not out committing crimes. I believe him when he says it’s work. I know biker’s ol’ ladies get told all the time that things are club business, and they are expected to accept whatever that may entail and suck it up. I know what Link did to Pam. Fuck that. I don’t want that life. Sitting at home wondering when he’s going to cheat.

And yeah, I know not all men are like that but for every one that isn’t there’s ten who are.

There’s some type of drama going on with Pam and Link. A biker from the other club walks right up to them and punches her old man. I’m not really paying attention because I see Viking and despite how I feel about him my body immediately reacts. My pulse vibrates through every cell in my body remembering how his hands felt. Rough and possessive.

I remember every stupid detail. The way he smelled like the cold of winter and leather with a hint of spicy liquor.

The taste of his kiss. Wild and free. He made me believe that I was special. That a man like him wanted a woman like me. The fucking duff.

What a freaking joke.