Read Online Sentinel - Devil Riders MC Book 1 (MC Romance Novel with FREE Bonus Novel!) by Ashley Rhodes - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Ashley Rhodes
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got used to their antics and noticed that most of the jostling, the baiting of the others, was done in good humor. The guys all seemed to know each other extremely well, and their bond had something endearing about it.
Serving beer, wiping up the spilled messes, watching the crowd, she saw them as a whole. She’d never understand the motives of the sweet butts and coffin cats, but if it made the girls happy, who was she to criticize? No one dragged them in there, and they could spend a few hours being admired, flattered, and even getting laid. No one was forcing anyone to do a damn thing—they all seemed within their comfort zones.
It struck her that maybe part of the reason this biker bar seemed relatively mellow was because the girls were there. Then, when Trigger emerged from a back room with the blonde, both of them with broad shit-eating grins plastered across their faces, she knew she was right. Trigger came back to his table with a swagger, jovially back slapping guys that looked for all the world like poster children for death row. He certainly was calmer than he’d been.
Shortly after, another guy sat at the table with them and starting talking to the girl. Chrissy braced herself for an explosion that never came. “You’re almost as sweet as Trigger,” the girl cooed to the new man, who had his hands all over her. Trigger smiled and sat back, finishing his beer and waving for Chrissy to bring another. As she came over to the table, the girl and the new guy were getting up and heading for the back room. They guy had his hand up her skirt.
Trigger laughed when he saw Chrissy staring. “She isn’t wearing panties,” he said.
Chrissy blushed. “Probably saves time.” She tried to sound unruffled, but Trigger’s grin told her she’d failed. She walked back to the bar thinking that these people gave the term “casual sex” new meaning.
****
Around 11pm that night Chrissy began to wonder what time things closed up and when she’d be able to go home. The first night on a job was exhausting, between trying to learn what to do and then actually getting on with it. Trish just let her do it, disappearing into the office for long periods of time.
Chrissy hadn't ever asked what the hours were and Trish hadn’t volunteered any information about the job at all. She cursed herself for letting Trish intimidate her. The truth was, Trish worried her more than the bikers, but in a different way. It seemed she worked for the woman, but she didn’t even know if that was true. She’d put off asking, expecting Rafe to turn up and hoping he’d explain what was going on.
Meanwhile, the night grew long. The bikers didn't seem in a hurry to get anywhere, and they were still drinking, getting progressively more loud and rowdy the more beer they drank.
She noticed that Trigger drank steadily. He grew red-faced and raucous as he gulped down beer after beer. He stood up and approached the bar, swaying on his feet slightly.
"One more." He grinned at Chrissy, and she raised an eyebrow.
“You sure?”
His smile turned to a frown.
"Whaddaya mean? You tr-trying to say somethin'?"
Chrissy held up her hands in supplication.
"No, no, of course not. I was just asking.” She popped the top of another bottle of Bud and handed it to him. “Here.”
He took it and drank deeply, some of the amber liquid spilling down his shirt. He set the bottle down heavily and wiped his mouth.
"You know, you're pretty hot Chrissy."
"Thanks, I guess," she responded warily. The last thing she needed was Trigger hitting on her. Not only was she unsure how to handle a guy like this, it would likely make Trish hate her more than she did already. She prayed that he'd get the message and back off. Unfortunately, he was too far gone to pick up on the signals she was sending. He leaned over the bar and circled an arm around her waist.
"C'mere," he slurred.
Chrissy felt a familiar heat rise inside her, that same anger that she always
Serving beer, wiping up the spilled messes, watching the crowd, she saw them as a whole. She’d never understand the motives of the sweet butts and coffin cats, but if it made the girls happy, who was she to criticize? No one dragged them in there, and they could spend a few hours being admired, flattered, and even getting laid. No one was forcing anyone to do a damn thing—they all seemed within their comfort zones.
It struck her that maybe part of the reason this biker bar seemed relatively mellow was because the girls were there. Then, when Trigger emerged from a back room with the blonde, both of them with broad shit-eating grins plastered across their faces, she knew she was right. Trigger came back to his table with a swagger, jovially back slapping guys that looked for all the world like poster children for death row. He certainly was calmer than he’d been.
Shortly after, another guy sat at the table with them and starting talking to the girl. Chrissy braced herself for an explosion that never came. “You’re almost as sweet as Trigger,” the girl cooed to the new man, who had his hands all over her. Trigger smiled and sat back, finishing his beer and waving for Chrissy to bring another. As she came over to the table, the girl and the new guy were getting up and heading for the back room. They guy had his hand up her skirt.
Trigger laughed when he saw Chrissy staring. “She isn’t wearing panties,” he said.
Chrissy blushed. “Probably saves time.” She tried to sound unruffled, but Trigger’s grin told her she’d failed. She walked back to the bar thinking that these people gave the term “casual sex” new meaning.
****
Around 11pm that night Chrissy began to wonder what time things closed up and when she’d be able to go home. The first night on a job was exhausting, between trying to learn what to do and then actually getting on with it. Trish just let her do it, disappearing into the office for long periods of time.
Chrissy hadn't ever asked what the hours were and Trish hadn’t volunteered any information about the job at all. She cursed herself for letting Trish intimidate her. The truth was, Trish worried her more than the bikers, but in a different way. It seemed she worked for the woman, but she didn’t even know if that was true. She’d put off asking, expecting Rafe to turn up and hoping he’d explain what was going on.
Meanwhile, the night grew long. The bikers didn't seem in a hurry to get anywhere, and they were still drinking, getting progressively more loud and rowdy the more beer they drank.
She noticed that Trigger drank steadily. He grew red-faced and raucous as he gulped down beer after beer. He stood up and approached the bar, swaying on his feet slightly.
"One more." He grinned at Chrissy, and she raised an eyebrow.
“You sure?”
His smile turned to a frown.
"Whaddaya mean? You tr-trying to say somethin'?"
Chrissy held up her hands in supplication.
"No, no, of course not. I was just asking.” She popped the top of another bottle of Bud and handed it to him. “Here.”
He took it and drank deeply, some of the amber liquid spilling down his shirt. He set the bottle down heavily and wiped his mouth.
"You know, you're pretty hot Chrissy."
"Thanks, I guess," she responded warily. The last thing she needed was Trigger hitting on her. Not only was she unsure how to handle a guy like this, it would likely make Trish hate her more than she did already. She prayed that he'd get the message and back off. Unfortunately, he was too far gone to pick up on the signals she was sending. He leaned over the bar and circled an arm around her waist.
"C'mere," he slurred.
Chrissy felt a familiar heat rise inside her, that same anger that she always
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