Vi was getting closer to the age where she’d want to start talking to boys outside of the DAMC family. God help them all. Her father was nicknamed “The Beast” by her mother for a damn good reason.
Crash strode across the courtyard giving chin-lifts to bikers he didn’t know, hand-clasps and shoulder bumps to the ones he did. Someone had mentioned a spread had been set up inside to keep it out of the June heat.
He wandered through the same double barn doors Magnum had and was once again amazed at the Fury’s church. It reminded him of a resort, but biker-style.
The pool tables were hopping, the music inside was rocking, a couple games of darts were in full swing, and a loud and rowdy poker game was happening in one corner. He spotted Slade and Moose sitting in on that game since they both were good at playing cards and could usually clean up and walk away with fat pockets.
Moose had brought along a stripper he’d been banging from Heaven’s Angels. She sat in the big man’s lap with her arms hooked around his neck and her huge tits smashed into his chest. Crash had no idea what her name was, but she had become his most recent regular. For this month, anyway. Next month it could be another stripper. And the month after that…?
Unlike when Dawg managed Heaven’s Angels Gentlemen’s Club, Moose didn’t mind hooking up with his help. And he did so often.
Because of that, also unlike Dawg, he had to deal with a shitload of cat fights among the talent.
What Crash wasn’t seeing right now was a bunch of skin. Of the female variety. That would change quickly once the sun went down and the kids were shuttled off somewhere else.
He swung his gaze around the large building with the center stone fireplace and the massive wood bar along the wall opposite of where he just walked in. Yeah, the sweet butts from all three clubs were still dressed, amazingly enough, though they were working some of the guys pretty damn hard so they might not end up clothed for long.
They’d just have to take it somewhere where little eyes and ears weren’t around. Easy enough since there was a bunkhouse attached to the rear of The Barn and a field full of tents, RVs and campers to go hide in to take part in carnal pleasures.
Yeah, once the alcohol and beer began to flow and smoke—both of the tobacco and pot variety—created a huge cloud overhead, things would change real quickly. He was pretty sure even the older kids would have an early curfew this weekend, this way the adults could spend the next few days reliving their lives before they had those kids.
Another reason he didn’t want any, they fucked-up your life. Nothing stayed the same after that. He’d seen the proof. It was almost enough for him to make an appointment to go get snipped.
This way there was no risk of becoming someone’s “baby daddy.”
He spotted the spread on two long tables along the front wall of The Barn and headed in that direction. Once again, forced to stop every few seconds to greet someone he recognized from the Knights or his own club. He didn’t know any of the Fury except for Trip, so maybe once he filled his gut, he’d go shoot some pool and shoot the shit, too.
That sounded like a fucking great plan.
He was only a few feet from his destination when he heard it.
Female laughter that rose above the din.
He heard plenty of that before, but the husky sound of this woman’s laugh had him turning his head. He paused his forward movement and his gaze skimmed the crowd around the long, custom-made bar.
He couldn’t see her. Only hear her laughter again. She had to be behind the wall of bodies in denim and leather blocking his view.
Then he saw her. The one who belonged to that laugh.
At first, he could only see a flash of blonde hair as she moved behind the length of the bar. Then he got a glimpse of her face wearing a huge smile as she bumped shoulders with another woman working the bar with her. Both of them were pouring drafts and mixing drinks for whoever needed them.
She disappeared behind a mix of club members, then he caught another glimpse of her at the end of the bar closest to where he stood.
Fuck.
Too bad she was wearing a leather cut. She’d been claimed and belonged to someone already. That meant she was off-limits.
He shouldn’t be disappointed because there should be plenty of other available women this weekend. Even so, he was. At his age, it took a lot to catch his attention. He didn’t dip his dick in just any pussy anymore like he used to when he was younger.
Back then, it was only about getting laid and draining his nuts. Now, it was more about the experience. It was more about quality than quantity at this point.
He shook his head and turned his attention back to the food laid out before him and grabbed a disposable plate from the end of the table.
“Let me do that for you, baby. I’d be glad to serve you.”
Crash turned toward the female voice and saw a girl, not a woman. She couldn’t be much older than Lily. Maybe by a couple of years, if that. Possibly old enough to drink. He wasn’t great at judging ages.
Being twenty-one, or close to it, might legally make her a woman, but Crash wasn’t into twenty-somethings. The generation gap was too fucking big for him.
He was old school. He liked women who didn’t whine. He liked women who weren’t looking to put their claws in an unclaimed brother.
He liked women who knew what the fuck they were doing when naked and didn’t need guidance on how to suck dick or do ass-play. Or whatever he was in the mood for.
Whatever it was, for fuck’s sake, it definitely wasn’t training some young thing in the sack.
Again, he was now more about quality versus quantity.
While this girl was cute and had really nice tits, that was where his interest ended.
She reached up and pushed the tip of her finger into his chin dimple. “That’s so sexy!”
Christ, he was definitely growing his beard back, starting this weekend.
She snagged the plastic plate from his fingers and began to pile it high with a variety of shit. He stood back and let her do her thing and, as she mindlessly chattered away, he realized he would pass on anything else she offered him besides a plate of food.
After moving down the table and building a mountain on his plate, she came back to him. She kept a hold of it when she said, “There you go. I bet a man like you has to eat a lot.”
“No more than anyone else,” he answered, grabbing the full plate from her and finding a fork to go along with it. Before he could move away, she tucked a hand in his open cut and planted it on his gut.
“You have some hard muscles under there.” The brunette smiled up at him and winked. “If you’re still hungry after you eat all that, I have a tent set up and I’m not sharing it with anyone… unless its with you.”
“Old enough to be your dad,” he grumbled.
“I can call you Daddy, if you’d like.” She winked again and, like the first time, it was kind of awkward and not sexy at all. She needed to practice that in a mirror.
But, holy fuck, her suggestion made him rethink blowing her off. If she had another ten years on her, he might have followed her out to that damn tent and had her call him Daddy and some other things, too.
He glanced down at his plate of food and back up to her. “You belong to someone?”
She smiled and shook her head. “Just you, if you want me.”
“You ain’t with anyone?”