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Book: The Erotic Motorcycle Club Collection (3 Hot Biker Stories) by Marjorie Lux
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Authors: Marjorie Lux
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his own donut and sat next to me on the bench.
“I took you for a calorie-watcher,” he said, taking a sip of my coffee.
“Hey, that's mine!” I protested. “And there is a lot you don't know about me. I could probably down ten of those,” I said between mouthfuls.
“Hm, better watch out or you'll get fat,” Dex said laughingly, poking my slender side. I gave him a death glare.
“No I won't,” I replied. “Besides, some guys like women who are soft and squishy.” Dex laughed and shook his head like I was crazy. I could never tell if he was laughing with me or at me, but his happy, carefree attitude made me smile. The bikers all scarfed down their donuts and coffee in a few minutes and we were ready to hit the road. I saw Gary, the fat biker who had been a jerk to me the night before talking in angry whispers with a blonde biker off to the side. I walked over to the trashcan near them, trying to hear what they were so upset over.
“We've got it all packed up safe,” Gary whispered harshly, like it was the end of the conversation.
The blonde biker shook his head. “Ain't nothing safe enough for where we are going. I've got a bad feeling about this. The Vipers are just looking for an excuse.”
The men saw me looking their way and quickly shut their mouths. I smiled and waved, trying to pretend I hadn't heard anything. What were they talking about? Something abut safety and snakes? I shivered, hoping we didn't encounter snakes or any other wild animals.
The men grabbed some heavy duffels and loaded them up in a van that one of the Night Riders was driving.
“What's with that?” I asked Dex, pointing to them loading up the large, heavy looking duffels.
“Tom is going to be driving instead of riding with us, so some of the guys wanted him to carry their clothes and stuff. Now stop asking questions.” Dex looked irritated.
I looked at the van suspiciously. The duffels looked like they carried something heavier than clothes. They were certainly too big and there were too many of them to be just these bikers' wardrobes. But Dex's face told me that he wouldn't welcome any further questions.
I climbed back on Dex's bike and realized I had no idea where we were heading. I was about to ask Dex, but the roar of a dozen bikes starting up cut me off. By the time the noise had died down a little, I realized that it didn't matter where we were going. The adventure would be in the journey.
It felt great at first, but as the afternoon sun started to bear down on us a few hours later, I realized my thighs were in serious pain and I was sweating through my t-shirt. Being pressed up against Dex's leather-clad back didn't really improve the situation either. When we took a break for lunch and for everyone to use the restrooms in the fast food restaurant, I grabbed a bottle of water and poured it over my head. A few of the bikers hollered and whistled at me, as the wet shirt clung to my figure and I instantly regretted it. I was feeling crabby by the time Dex walked out of the restroom and sat down next to me.
“I don't know why the hell anyone with a brain, or anyone who isn't a masochist would join a motorcycle gang,” I grumbled to him.
“For the same reason people join any sort of club, like a sorority. I bet you were in a sorority, weren't you princess? You sit there all corn-fed and privileged and judge us, but these men are like my family. We ride because it is fun and a way to express our freedom, but we are Night Riders because we are a family.” Clearly, I had pissed him off. I wanted to retort back to him, but Dex turned his back to me and started talking with Jason, the club's VP. Apparently Jason was one of Dex's closest friends and I got the feeling that Jason didn't approve of me being there.
Dex didn't speak to me again for the rest of the short break or during the ride that afternoon. I felt guilty for insulting him, but also annoyed at his attitude and grumpy about feeling so tired and
“I took you for a calorie-watcher,” he said, taking a sip of my coffee.
“Hey, that's mine!” I protested. “And there is a lot you don't know about me. I could probably down ten of those,” I said between mouthfuls.
“Hm, better watch out or you'll get fat,” Dex said laughingly, poking my slender side. I gave him a death glare.
“No I won't,” I replied. “Besides, some guys like women who are soft and squishy.” Dex laughed and shook his head like I was crazy. I could never tell if he was laughing with me or at me, but his happy, carefree attitude made me smile. The bikers all scarfed down their donuts and coffee in a few minutes and we were ready to hit the road. I saw Gary, the fat biker who had been a jerk to me the night before talking in angry whispers with a blonde biker off to the side. I walked over to the trashcan near them, trying to hear what they were so upset over.
“We've got it all packed up safe,” Gary whispered harshly, like it was the end of the conversation.
The blonde biker shook his head. “Ain't nothing safe enough for where we are going. I've got a bad feeling about this. The Vipers are just looking for an excuse.”
The men saw me looking their way and quickly shut their mouths. I smiled and waved, trying to pretend I hadn't heard anything. What were they talking about? Something abut safety and snakes? I shivered, hoping we didn't encounter snakes or any other wild animals.
The men grabbed some heavy duffels and loaded them up in a van that one of the Night Riders was driving.
“What's with that?” I asked Dex, pointing to them loading up the large, heavy looking duffels.
“Tom is going to be driving instead of riding with us, so some of the guys wanted him to carry their clothes and stuff. Now stop asking questions.” Dex looked irritated.
I looked at the van suspiciously. The duffels looked like they carried something heavier than clothes. They were certainly too big and there were too many of them to be just these bikers' wardrobes. But Dex's face told me that he wouldn't welcome any further questions.
I climbed back on Dex's bike and realized I had no idea where we were heading. I was about to ask Dex, but the roar of a dozen bikes starting up cut me off. By the time the noise had died down a little, I realized that it didn't matter where we were going. The adventure would be in the journey.
It felt great at first, but as the afternoon sun started to bear down on us a few hours later, I realized my thighs were in serious pain and I was sweating through my t-shirt. Being pressed up against Dex's leather-clad back didn't really improve the situation either. When we took a break for lunch and for everyone to use the restrooms in the fast food restaurant, I grabbed a bottle of water and poured it over my head. A few of the bikers hollered and whistled at me, as the wet shirt clung to my figure and I instantly regretted it. I was feeling crabby by the time Dex walked out of the restroom and sat down next to me.
“I don't know why the hell anyone with a brain, or anyone who isn't a masochist would join a motorcycle gang,” I grumbled to him.
“For the same reason people join any sort of club, like a sorority. I bet you were in a sorority, weren't you princess? You sit there all corn-fed and privileged and judge us, but these men are like my family. We ride because it is fun and a way to express our freedom, but we are Night Riders because we are a family.” Clearly, I had pissed him off. I wanted to retort back to him, but Dex turned his back to me and started talking with Jason, the club's VP. Apparently Jason was one of Dex's closest friends and I got the feeling that Jason didn't approve of me being there.
Dex didn't speak to me again for the rest of the short break or during the ride that afternoon. I felt guilty for insulting him, but also annoyed at his attitude and grumpy about feeling so tired and
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