Tempting The Biker (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV 3)

“Hardest addiction to kick.”

I blow out a ring of smoke. “Exactly. I see her and all I wanna do is rip her clothes off and fuck her till neither of us can see straight.” I take another hit. “Did that little fuck stick she was seeing leave town?”

“Yeah. He got smart. Likes his pretty boy face too much. I don’t get you.” He shakes his head, and Kristen slides a beer in front of him and replaces my empty.

“Yeah well that makes two of us. Besides it’s better this way.”

“Better for who? You’re fucking miserable. Married to a cunt.”

“Watch it. That cunt is still my wife and pregnant with my son.”

“Fuck. For real?”

“Yeah. Wanted to wait to say anything until we knew for sure.”

“Then congrats, Prez. Guess you won’t care that I saw Alexa working the pole at the Lion’s Den.” He smirks and knocks back his beer.

“The fuck did you just say?”

“Me and a few of the boys swung by last night on our way back into town. Gotta say...fine piece of ass like that had my kid no man would be tossing singles at her ass and seeing her titties. And what a fine ass and rack she has. Having that baby did her body good. She musta been drinking a helluva lot of milk.”

I shove my chair back and jump up. “What time is it?”

“I’d say it’s about time you got your head out your ass and claimed your bitch before someone else moves in.”

I ignore him as he laughs. All I see is red and I’m about to be a bull in a china shop. I climb onto my Road King and ride out. I’m gonna spank her ass. Alexa has no business working in a dump like this. I’ve been funneling money into an account for her. Plenty enough to cover her rent. any bills, and to make sure the baby won’t want for a damn thing.

I park and light up a cigarette. Fucking place is booming. Then I see it. A fucking poster by the front door. Alexa in a black leather bikini straddling a Harley looking like every man’s wet dream come true.

I snatch the poster off the brick and wad it up.

“Hey, man. The fuck?” One of the bouncer’s snarls at me.

I step into his space. He takes one look at the President’s patch on my cut and realizes his mistake. My club owns this shithole. Hence the fucking name Lion’s Den.

“My bad. Go on in.”

“Want all these taken down.” I grunt and shove the poster into his chest.

“She’s our main feature,” he mutters.

I don’t give a fuck what they think she is. Alexa isn’t gonna be their anything for much longer. Gonna jerk a damn knot in her head. Since I’m here I might as well scope shit out and see how Marco is running the place since we gave Lion’s man Dingo the boot. I grab a table toward the back. I don’t know if I want Alexa to know I’m here. Been months since we’ve been face to face. Since we’ve touched. Since I walked out the door on her and didn’t look back.

I pull out my phone and dial Slick. “Got a job for you. Need the apartment wired and a room setup for surveillance in the basement. No one else on this. I don’t have time to get in touch with the Reapers to do it nice. I want it done now. Get in and out.” I end the call. Should have done that shit months ago. Least I can see my kid without Ruthie knowing or being tempted by Alexa.

I signal one of the bitches working the floor to bring me a shot. Marco better get some hot ass in here because once I take Alexa out the rotation, he’ll lose business. Knocking back one shot after the next, I sit through a few sets wondering when Alexa will grace the stage.

My cell buzzes with a call from Ruthie. I send her to voice mail. I’m not in the mood for more of her shit right now. I need a fucking break. The crowd moves closer to the main stage, growing louder. The lights dim. “Ladies and gentlemen the reason you’re all here, welcome to the stage Lexi.”

I sit up at the sound of a motorcycle roaring onto the stage. The bouncer shuts it off leaving Alexa on the back with the spotlight shining on her. Seeing her riding bitch on another man’s biker is a punch to the gut even if it’s all for show. Play With Fire by Sam Tinnesz filters through the sound system. Dressed in a black leather bikini top, Daisy Dukes, and knee-high boots like on the fucking poster, all the blood in my body shoots straight to my dick at the sight of her. Smoke covers the floor of the stage. The lighting switches to red strobe lights and an image of fire pops up on a loop on the screen behind her.

Is this a fucking strip show or a theatrical production? I snort to myself and do another shot.

Alexa leans forward, practically humping the seat of the bike. I already want to charge the damn stage, sling her over my shoulder, spank her ass raw, and fuck her brains out. Been months and the attraction I have for her seems to only grow stronger. After her little display on the motorcycle, she trades it for the pole.

Rubbing up and down it seductively she unbuttons her shorts, teasing at what’s beneath them—my own personal paradise. All them years of cheerleading paid off. Her routine appears effortless. She loses the boots and denim shorts. Strutting across the stage in fishnets and a thong, teasing at removing her bikini top, the crowd loves her. I watch powerless to stop the performance. It hurts like hell knowing she’s meant to be mine, and I can’t have her.

It’s for her own good