Lucky Ride (Men of Valor MC)

“You can’t wear that out there,” I growl. Fuck, I actually growled. What’s wrong with me?

“I didn’t bring anything else. I can walk back to Cara’s apartment, though. It’s going to take an hour, if that’s okay.”

“No. Wait right there.” I go into my cabinet and pull out one of my dress shirts and hand it to her. “Put this on.” She raises her brow. “Do you have a problem? I’m running a restaurant, not a strip club. That job is down the street.”

“No. I don’t have a problem. Where can I change?”

“There’s a bathroom right there.” I point to my private bathroom that no one else is allowed to use, but I can’t have her using the regular public one. I don’t want that fabulous rack on display for anyone else but me. Something selfish and territorial runs through my head, and I want to explore it but don’t. Instead, I start doing math in my head, trying to remember the quadratic formula or some shit.

She comes out of the bathroom a minute later with her other top in her hand and then shoves it in her coat sleeve. I look at her and nearly come. She’s tucked into her tight yoga pants, leaving the top two buttons open with the sleeves rolled up. Her tits are covered, but they’re still on display because her rack is hard to miss. My shirt fits her tighter than I expected in the chest area.

I swallow hard, and then I call out to Heather, my head waitress. “Heather, come into my office when you have a second.” She nods and walks with a tray to her booth. We get a lot of the people who spent the night partying and also the ones who are just getting their workday started. It’s a great mix of customers, and thankfully the fighting is kept to a minimum.

I turn to my little waitress, thinking about popping open those buttons and sucking on those tight, hard nipples before yanking down her bottoms and drilling her little pussy. I can’t shake the filthy thoughts, so I take a seat to hide my hard-on.

Heather comes to the door, pressing her hand to the frame and breathing heavily, clearly in a rush. “You needed something, boss?”

“Yes, I’m giving Clover, here, a chance as a waitress. I want her to follow you around and get a feel for it, and then I want your feedback when your shift’s over. She says she has some experience in the area, so good luck.”

“Hi, Clover. Come on. The morning rush is just getting started. Also, when you have a chance, boss, we could use some help at the register.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.” She nods and walks out. “Go on and follow her, Lucky.” I wave my hand, and my little Clover leaves. I watch her ass and bite my fist to hold back the growl. I’m going to have a problem with her working here. I know it.

After two minutes and a quick adjustment of my cock, I wash my hand and head out behind the counter. Clover stands off to the side while Heather works her magic on some of the early risers. Heather invites her to run the ticket to the back. I watch the entire scene while attempting to ring up a guest. The cook starts chatting with her, and then I let out a cough and glare at my cook.

“Sorry, just introducing myself.”

“That’s enough, Ernesto. Get to work. Lucky, get your ass back to work.” I get a strange look from him, but I don’t give a fuck. I already regret letting her step out of my damn office.

“Hey, Rooster, what’s up your ass? You’re never grumpy in the morning,” says Mr. Granger. He’s sixty-seven now and comes in every morning for coffee and a donut. He hands me his check, and then I ring him up.

“I’m not in a bad mood,” I lie, feeling like an asshole.

“Sure. I’ve seen it a dozen times before, and only once for me. She’s pretty. Lock it down before someone else does. It looks like it won’t take long.” He winks at me with a smirk on his face.

“I’m not interested,” I grunt out, handing him his change. He does what he always does and adds the money to the tip jar for the staff. He’s a great man, even if he’s already puzzled out my attraction to Clover.

“I hope you don’t lie to the cops like that.” He chuckles, shaking his head.

“I’m not lying, old man.” I barely get that out because I see her smiling at a customer, hating that fucker. It’s not the sexy, flirtatious smile. No, it’s pure, genuine, and sweet, making me feel like a wild caveman. Mr. Granger smirks, shaking his head as he leaves.