The Biker's Cherry (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV 8)

“Shit.” I laugh and pull through the gate. The party is already in full swing, and I can’t help but wonder if Kimber is out with her friends or if her mom has her babysitting for the club. Why can’t I stop thinking about her? Fuck me.

I park and Bambi starts digging around in her purse, pulling out a compact mirror. At first, I think the cunt is worried about her face, but she pops open the bottom of the mirror and produces a tiny plastic baggie filled with white powder. “A little pick me up.” She dumps the substance onto the mirror.

“What’s in that?”

“Just coke.”

“No Cloud Nine?”

“I can get it if you’re into that. But tell me how you belong to an outlaw MC and can’t score your own dope?”

“Prez doesn’t like us doing hardcore shit. But it’s a holiday and I have a sexy as fuck date. I want tonight to be your best New Year to date.”

“You trying to impress me?”

“Thought I’ve already done that.” I lean across the center console and give her a kiss.

“Hmm to be determined, but that’s a nice start.”

Bambi resumes cutting lines. I doubt this is what Murder had in mind when he said whatever it takes.

“You got a dollar bill?” Bambi stares at me expectantly.

Snorting drugs with money. Nasty as fuck. I reach into the console and grab a fifty out of my wallet. I roll the bill and hand it to her. “Ladies first.”

“Aren’t you a gentleman?” She smirks, bends her head, inserts one end of the rolled bill into her nostril and snorts two lines.

She lays her head back against the headrest and hands me the mirror then the makeshift straw. Bambi closes her eyes and sniffs a few times, making sure it all goes down the back of her throat. I take advantage of her attention being on her buzz and knock the shit into my floorboard. I’ll vacuum my truck tomorrow. I’m overdue for a good detail anyhow.

I rub my nose a few times and look in the visor mirror, pretending to make sure there’s no powder hanging out my nose.

“Ready to go in?”

As I suspected, the ol’ ladies are steering clear of Bambi.

None of them want to make friends with her and hell I can’t blame them. She strutted in here like she owned the place jiggling her assets for all the brothers. That attitude might fly when wives aren’t around but tonight this is their party.

I do my best to keep her clear of all of them. The expression on their faces is warning enough they don’t approve of her presence.

As the night wears on she’s acting wilder and crazier leaving me to wonder what else she has stashed away in her purse.

One minute she’s all smiles rubbing her ass all up on me, yanking the straps of her dress down, practically flashing her tits at everyone and the next she’s pushing me away as though she can’t stand my guts. We have our share of wild parties; most don’t happen with the ol’ ladies in attendance. They aren’t prudes by no means, but Bambi isn’t one of them. She’s an outsider. A bitch who strips and likely fucks for money. Murder’s Ol’ Lady, Alexa, used to dance when she was younger, but things are different now. There’s been a shift in the club. Lot of the brothers have gotten more family oriented and tamed their ways when it comes to other women.

“Why don’t you take me upstairs and fuck me?” Bambi slurs, pupils dilated as she sways to the music and knocks into a chair.

“Think you need some water or to sleep it off,” Alexa says, shoving a bottled water at her.

“Fu-uucckkk you. You don’t know me.” She gets in Prez’s Ol’ Lady’s face.

This isn’t going to end well. “C’mon. You’re done.” I grab her arm and she spits at me.

“Get off.” She stumbles away from me. “Everyone here wants to fuck me. I see you looking at my tits.” She jabs a finger at Murder’s chest. “I’ll do you right here.”

Alexa jerks her backwards by the back of her head. “Bitch, don’t be touching my ol’ man.” She shoves her toward me, and I catch her in my arms.

“Take that cunt upstairs,” Link growls at me as East, Smoke, Sandman, and Prodigy shake their heads.

I’d rather drop her ass off at home, but she’s not in any shape to be going anywhere, and I don’t want blamed for the state she’s in. I lift her into my arms bridal style and Pam slings her purse at me. It hits the floor with a thud. All of her shit rolling out.

“I got it.” Bianca gives me a sympathetic smile and starts tossing her crap back in. She hooks the strap around my neck, and I take the stupid slut upstairs, hoping she passes out so I can get some information off her phone that will put an end to this shit.