Thunder (Hell's Handlers MC 10) - Page 49
With a churning stomach and thumping heart, Mak stood from the driver’s seat in time to catch Kristy adjusting her skintight, hot pink dress over her envy-inducing ass. With a little shimmy, she tugged the skirt down her hips only to have it ride right back up the moment she lifted her arms to plump her breasts. The thing fit so snug to Kristy’s body, Mak had no idea how she could walk, let alone dance. However, clothes weren’t exactly a requirement in her performance. Looked like the silver zipper running the length of Kristy’s dress would come in handy. Especially since the thing already seemed to be halfway undone, giving the world a generous view of her cantaloupe-sized breasts.
Five hundred dollars. Five hundred dollars.
It’d become her mantra over the past few days, keeping her from canceling as she’d wished she could.
“Let’s get this over with,” she mumbled as she shuffled after her friend.
“What’d you say?” Kristy asked, but her attention diverted to the door where a burly man was checking over each person who entered the clubhouse.
“Nothing.”
With each step closer to the entrance, Mak’s stomach wound tighter. Truth of the matter was, she’d rather be anywhere else. The distinct smell of weed and booze permeated the air, increasing in strength as they neared the building. It brought back memories of living in the community when the men would get high and tromp out into a field to shoot beer bottles. Those nights had been the worst. Hours of sleeplessness, listening to hundreds of rounds of gunfire before Roger came home, ranting about her ineffectiveness as a wife. He’d fall on top of her stinking of marijuana and stale beer as he demanded she spread her legs.
Sighing, she shook off the memories. If she could survive those nights, she could make it through a few hours tending bar for this MC. Though, she had a feeling this wasn’t going to be the same kind of fun and welcoming experience as last week’s gig at the Handlers’ clubhouse.
A low-pitched whistle had Mak’s gaze snapping up to the huge man standing by the entrance to the clubhouse.
“Damn, woman,” he said to Kristy. “You are smokin’ tonight. Blade’s gonna have you bent over for his cock within minutes of seeing you.”
As Mak’s jaw fell, Kristy let out a laugh and spun around her arms outstretched. “You think so?”
Seriously? She said it as though the idea of some guy screwing her in the middle of the clubhouse was a good thing.
“Know, so, babe. Hope you’re ready for him. He’s in a shit mood, so you’ll be getting it good tonight,” the giant said as he winked.
Kristy patted his massive chest as she sashayed by. “Pretty sure you remember how well I can handle myself, big boy.”
The giant laughed then shifted his attention to Mak, who stood there gaping like she’d never seen a man talk to a woman before. “Well, well,” he said, playful smile turning into more of a hungry leer. “Who do we have here?”
Kristy rested a fuchsia-tipped hand on his round shoulder. “This is Makenna,” she said. “She’ll be working the bar tonight with PeeWee and Level.”
“Gotcha.” He took a step forward. “Arms out, babe.”
“Huh?” Mak looked at Kristy then back to the giant.
“No one comes in here without being checked for weapons first.”
“Oh, uh, sure.” She extended her arms. Made sense. He must not have checked Kristy because he knew her. Either that or he could sense there wasn’t anywhere for her to hide anything bigger than a matchstick.
Two large paws landed on her hips then trailed down her legs in what seemed to be much more of a caress than a pat-down. She tensed as he began to trail up the insides of her thighs. The higher he coasted, the more uncomfortable she became until she yelped as he blatantly brushed a hand over her crotch.
Instead of apologizing, he winked and continued the search, cupping her breasts before Kristy finally cleared her throat and ended Mak’s torture.
“Dude, seriously, if she’s late, I’m blaming you.” Kristy rolled her eyes and huffed.
Mak’s face felt about a thousand degrees, and the second his hands left her body, she folded her arms over her breasts. If she could have curled into a ball and rolled away, she would have.
Five hundred dollars. Five hundred dollars.
“All right,” he said with a chuckle. “She’s clean. Though I don’t know how long she’ll stay that way in there.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Fresh meat as pristine as her oughta be real popular.”
Mak swallowed a rise of nausea.
Another eye-roll had Kristy slinging her arm across Mak’s shoulders. “Pretty sure you won’t be getting any from her,” she snapped as she propelled Mak into the building. “Fucking inbred idiot,” she muttered under her breath.
Mak’s forehead scrunched. “If you think he’s an idiot, why did you…”
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