Duke (The Henchmen MC 5)

She stopped mid-stride, brows still together, looking to both her sides. Then she turned in a circle, holding both her arms out in a very 'what the fuck' kind of way.

Lost.

She was lost.

Well, it just so happened that I had lived in Navesink Bank long enough to know not only where every store was located, but half of the God damn populations' home addresses.

Before I could open my mouth to offer assistance, though, Shredder took the opportunity, never the one to miss out on a pretty skirt if he could help it.

"Baby, you need some directions?" he called, making her turn in our direction. Her eyes looked us both over in a way that said she understood exactly what kind of trouble we were. Her gaze drifted to the clubhouse and the fences around it, then over her shoulder as if looking for someone, anyone else who could help her. But we were all she had.

She seemed to accept that fact, taking a deep breath, nodding a little, and moving toward us. She stopped a good five feet from either of us, definitely out of arms reach in case we got any ideas.

"Yeah, actually. That would be great. I'm new here," she said with a hesitant little smile, like she was embarrassed that she didn't already know the area.

"Welcome to Navesink Bank, honey. I'm Shredder. This is Duke," he said, jerking his head in my direction and her eyes followed. She had glanced me over before, seeing mostly the leather cut and black clothes, and writing me off as bad news. But she hadn't really looked me over.

She was looking me over then, though, her big blue eyes taking in my face, my chest and shoulders, then lower briefly, before moving back up.

"Don't worry. We look meaner than we are," Shredder went on and only I knew what a lie that was. He sounded convincing, the smooth bastard. "What's your name, honey?"

She gave him another small smile. "Penny."

"Where can we steer you, Penny?"

"I, ah," she started, looking down at the paper in her hands. "I have an appointment at Bella's Beauty," she admitted, cheeks coloring a little at the ridiculous name. "It's a hair salon."

"Why? Your hair is perfect as it is," Shredder went on, laying it on thick.

It was then that one of her light brows raised, arching perfectly in a way that said she had his number and he was damn sure not getting hers.

"It's an interview," she added, voice a sight more cool than it had been a moment before.

Finding I liked that kind of spirit, I broke in, giving her a chance to make it to her appointment in time and not end up delayed by Shredder's very insistent brand of flirting.

"Bella's is down the next left then the first right. First building on the right. Trust me, doll, you can't miss it," I said with a smirk.

"Gee," she said, giving me a small smile and, if I wasn't completely mistaken, it was the slightest bit flirtatious, "that doesn't sound good."

"Let's just say that Bella isn't exactly of the discreet or understated mindset," I added, leaving out the fact that the front of Bella's was an obnoxious hot pink with a giant flashing neon sign. The inside was no better, with pink and purple fuckin' everything. I couldn't see this girl with her minimal makeup and sensible clothes working anywhere like that.

She nodded with an exhale and a sort-of resigned nod. "Well, as long as she provides a steady paycheck, I think I can keep my opinions of her fashion faux-pas to myself. Thanks, Duke and..." I tried to ignore how the way she rolled my name around on that tongue of hers shot straight to my dick, figuring it had probably been too long since I got laid, as her eyes drifted. "Shredder."

"Honey, anytime you need anything," Shredder went on, clearly not taking the dismissiveness in her tone as a goodbye.

"She's got an appointment," I reminded him as she shot me a thankful smile and shuffled off.

"Good luck, sugar," he called after her and she had the good sense not to look back as she followed my instructions and disappeared.

"You fuck," Shredder said, shoving into my shoulder hard when she was out of sight.

"What'd I do?" I asked, tipping up my beer and draining it.

"Always stealing the chicks with that handsome fucking mug of yours. Don't even have to flirt with them."

"Stealing the chicks?" I asked, making a show of looking around us. "I don't see any chicks, do you?"

"Oh, fuck off. The second you started talking to her, she forgot I existed."

"Maybe because I was giving her what she needed, not trying to get into her pants."

"Fuck, man, though," he said, putting his hands into prayer position and looking up at the sky. "If I could only get into the pants of a girl like that..."