Read Online Savage Angels: A Savage MC Erotic Romance by Alice May Ball - Free Book Online Page B

so bad she could taste it right on the back of her throat, feel it with the tip of her tongue. Her thighs tingled and she got squirmy in her panties with the very thought of him. If she had known then what the cost was going to be, would she have done it any differently? Hard to say. Gypsy learned a lot in the next few days. If she’d seen what was coming, would she have acted differently, or would she have figured it was all worth the price?
    Intricate tattoo art on his strong neck slipped down the muscles inside his black work shirt. On the back of his cut-off leather motorcycle jacket was the Savage MC top rocker, the big ‘S’ with a dagger and drips of red. The bike jacket had big zippers and buckles and even with no sleeves it looked like it weighed about as much as she did. He rocked up to the bar, loose-limbed in denim baggies, ordered a bourbon and talked with the barkeeper. Leaning at the bar, his ass was a miracle.
    Gypsy recognized Hacker from high school, where he had been a few years above her, and he graduated from pretty cool to face-melting hot. That ass. The word was that he was pretty high up in the local motorcycle club, too. Thrillingly dangerous. The way that she looked in high school, she had the best shoes, the best clothes, the coolest makeup. She had all the money. But she had been under a layer or two of puppy fat. She looked a whole lot better now.
    Gypsy strutted slowly over to the jukebox. She put on George Thorogood and the Destroyers Get a Haircut and Get a Real Job. The room was full of nobody caring, even though every other man’s eyes slid down the length of her throat, over the sliver chains and inside her shirt, around her black bra and then up her thighs. Every other man except Mr Hacker. The jukebox had John the Revelator , but only the Curtis Stigers version. If it had Son House she would have played that. She was going to cue up Bad Company , the original by Bad Company, but then she saw the live version of Mr Big by Free, so she lined that up with Hendrix If Six Were Nine , thinking, Ignore that, motherfuckers .  
    She crossed back to the bar, figuring she’d have to buy her own damn drink, but a clean glass was waiting for her with a glowing shot of bourbon. She looked up in Hacker’s direction, but it was Grinder who returned her smile. Good guy, Grinder. Ah well.
    As she carefully and studiously didn’t watch their conversation, she saw both men make gestures toward the back of the bar. The corridor led to the payphone, the men’s room and the back rooms, so she decided to head Hacker off at the pass.

She stood waiting in the corridor, rolling the remains of her bourbon around the glass. He loped along from the barroom like he was in slow motion. When he got to where she was standing, she was blocking his way. He looked in her eye as he waited for her to move aside. No expression, no greeting, no, “Hi, nice to see you,” nothing. Like he didn’t even recognize her. So, she decided that she’d have to do the talking, “Hacker, right? We were at high school together.”
    “We were at the same high school. Wasn’t anything ‘together’ about it. Now, would you stand aside.” When she didn’t move he put his hands on her upper arms to move her to the passageway wall, but as he moved her she was sure that he caught her perfume. Not just the scent from a bottle, the one that smells like patchouli and cum. As his fingers contacted with her skin, a shock ran through her. His bottom lip tightened and that was how she knew that he registered it, too.  
    He moved her, his hands gripping her arms, moved her to the side. Their lips were close enough that they could taste each other’s breath. His was like the Old Crow Reserve bourbon that he’d been drinking, but it still carried a whiff of the mannish boy.  
    As their mouths came close together, he paused. Only for a moment, but long enough that he couldn’t pretend it didn’t happen. His voice was thick as he said,