Thunder (Hell's Handlers MC 10)

“So, if we’re not here to test out my dick sucking technique, why’re we here?” Kristy blinked those long, mahogany lashes as though she had an innocent cell in her body.

“Heard through the grapevine, you’ve been dancing at the Chrome Disciples parties the past few weekends.”

Kristy pursed her full lips as she leaned back in her chair. “So, this really isn’t a fun visit.”

Thunder raised an eyebrow, which had her rolling her eyes and folding her arms under her double F tits in a move as practiced as her dance routines. No surprise, Tex’s eyes drifted straight to those babies. Thunder was tempted to grab a napkin and wipe the guy’s chin. Instead, he focused his gaze on Kristy’s face.

She smirked, knowing she’d lost that round. “You always were a tough nut to crack, Thunder. Coulda had so much fun with so many girls over the years. Makes me sometimes wonder what’s going on down there.” As she spoke, she leaned over and cupped his dick.

Tex let out a strangled sound.

“Huh,” she said with a frown. “Not much.”

“Just cuz my dick doesn’t want you, doesn’t mean it’s broken,” he said. “Now, remove your fucking hand and tell me what I want to know.”

As Kristy sat back in her chair with a huff, the back of Thunder’s neck began to tingle. The sensation grew until he had no choice but to glance over his shoulder toward the line of patrons waiting for their beverage. Sure enough, Makenna stood there, gawking at him with a disgusted frown like he was some kind of deviant.

No doubt, she saw Kristy’s hand groping his dick.

Fucking Kristy.

When her gaze met his, she startled and turned to face the counter. Damn, the girl looked so fucking adorable in simple black leggings, beat to hell converse sneakers, an oversized sweatshirt, and her shoulder-length hair in a messy pile on top of her head. Shorter strands hung free, giving her this tousled yet sexy casual appearance. Though he only had a quick peek, he was pretty sure that face of hers was completely makeup free. The girl couldn’t be farther on the spectrum from Kristy if she tried.

Sure, she’d probably be described as plain by most people he knew, but Thunder wasn’t most people. The men and women he’d worked with for years were considered some of the most attractive due to their perfectly toned bodies, flawlessly made-up faces, skimpy outfits, and easy sexuality. To him, Makenna was refreshing and gorgeous in her natural state.

“So, you wanna ask me questions, or you just gonna stare at my neighbor all day?” Kristy asked.

“Huh?” His head snapped back around. “Makenna’s your neighbor?”

Kristy’s lips curled in a devilish grin. “She is. And let me tell you, baby, that girl is way too sweet for you.” She laughed as she trailed a long, purple fingernail down his chest. “Don’t even think about barking up that tree. Stick to the ones in our forest, baby.”

“Yeah, I figured that out five seconds after meeting her.” Which was why he’d stay away no matter how hard she made him. No one needed the fucked up that was in his brain when it came to relationships. After risking another glance at the back of Makenna’s head—okay fine, and a quick peek at her pert but small ass—he put the ridiculous attraction on the shelf and got back to the task at hand.

“Enough bullshit. I need some details on the Disciples.”

Kristy threw her arms in the air. “Come on, Thunder, you know I can’t do that. I have no loyalty to that club. But a paycheck’s a paycheck, and I can’t risk losing this one because those bastards pay fucking well. Besides, you know they wouldn’t tell me jack or shit about their business no matter how many of their faces I shake my tits in.”

Fuck, she was right. A polite request would get him nowhere—time to break out the big guns. “I get it, babe, I really do. And I’m not trying to get you booted from your gig. But you do owe me, don’t you?” About a year ago, Kristy had a piece of shit fiancé who knocked her around. She was one badass bitch, but even she wasn’t a match for a two-hundred-fifty-pound pile of muscle. Lucky for her, the Handlers were. Thunder made sure the dude wouldn’t be hitting a woman again.

Ever.

So yeah, she owed him.

With a sigh, she nodded, raking her long fingernails across her forearm in a nervous gesture he’d never seen from her. “Fuck you, Thunder.” She looked at Tex for a moment as though hoping the prospect could somehow get her out of this, but Tex he kept his lips clamped. This wasn’t his show. Finally, Kristy’s shoulders slumped in defeat. “They’re a bunch of assholes. Grabbiest motherfuckers. Not much for the word, no.”