grabs. Unashamedly flirting with every brother in passing, they sure as shit didn’t look like old ladies.
Fantastic. Fresh meat.
“Torch, brother, good to see you!” Slack, Akron VP and groom, came up from behind and greeted him with a man hug.
Torch slapped him on the back. “Hey, man. Congrats. Looks like it’s gonna be one hell of a party.”
Slack grinned. “You know it. Nothing but the biggest and best for my woman.”
“Must be a fucking pot of gold at the end of that pussy. Never thought I’d see the day your ass got locked down.”
“What can I say? Meg’s an evil genius, man,” he laughed, before punching Torch in the arm. “But you talk about my woman’s pussy again, I’ll knock you the fuck out.”
Torch laughed and threw up his arms. “Relax, brother. Looks like there’s plenty of pussy to go around.”
It was the second time that day Torch had let himself laugh with abandon. The only two times since everything had gone down back home. It felt good, really good, and for a minute he missed the camaraderie he’d left behind. Maybe it was a sign he was getting back on track.
Or maybe Liv had something to do with it.
He really had to stop thinking about that bitch. She was trouble and he’d promised Snoop to let it go.
So why couldn’t he?
“You just let me know who piques your interest. Out of town guests get first dibs,” Slack offered.
He grinned. “In that case, I might take more than one.”
Slack chuckled, but suddenly got serious. “You doing alright? Heard about your shit back in Colorado.”
“I’m good. Just taking some time to clock a few miles and regroup.”
“I get that. Buddha called and said you might roll through to represent, since you were in the neighborhood. I told the boys not to bring it up. Figured you don’t need that bullshit. But you let me know if there’s anything I can do, yeah?”
“Yeah. Appreciate it.”
“Glad you came, brother. Nomad can be lonely as fuck sometimes.” With that, he walked away, presumably to go look for his pot of gold again. Because, fuck superstition about not seeing the bride and all that shit. Knowing Slack’s sex drive, he’d have Meg on her back at least one more time before the actual ceremony.
Torch headed inside for a drink. He spotted several more members at the bar, already looking three-sheets-to-the-wind and enjoying the attention of a bevy of club crawlers while they still could. The girls would all be kicked out in a few hours when the old ladies showed up, otherwise the wedding would turn into a goddamn massacre.
There was a well-defined pecking order among the club’s women, crawlers were at the very bottom. Old ladies ruled the roost with iron fists.
Sure, some— alright, most—of the men had side pieces and didn’t bother keeping it a secret. But there was an unwritten rule that if you fucked around, you didn’t let it touch your home life, because drama tended to spill over between the two. Which was why there was never a shortage of rubbers littering clubhouses and the girls were kept away from family events.
Other clubs did things different, but he thought the Serpents treated their women pretty damn well. They couldn’t be members, but if you claimed one, she became part of the family. She was a sister. Loyalty and respect for the club were the most important requirements, because an old lady was her man’s responsibility. If she fucked up, you fucked up, and that meant you were going to take the brunt of the punishment.
Looking back, Torch hadn’t thought that part through before marrying Penny. The bitch had only gotten his ass kicked once, but it was one time too many. Fuck if he repeated that mistake again. Women in general were more trouble than they were worth. And it was hard to find a quality one anyway. It took a special kind of female to put up with the highs and lows of club life without turning into a raging fucking psycho, and you didn’t find those women among the
Fantastic. Fresh meat.
“Torch, brother, good to see you!” Slack, Akron VP and groom, came up from behind and greeted him with a man hug.
Torch slapped him on the back. “Hey, man. Congrats. Looks like it’s gonna be one hell of a party.”
Slack grinned. “You know it. Nothing but the biggest and best for my woman.”
“Must be a fucking pot of gold at the end of that pussy. Never thought I’d see the day your ass got locked down.”
“What can I say? Meg’s an evil genius, man,” he laughed, before punching Torch in the arm. “But you talk about my woman’s pussy again, I’ll knock you the fuck out.”
Torch laughed and threw up his arms. “Relax, brother. Looks like there’s plenty of pussy to go around.”
It was the second time that day Torch had let himself laugh with abandon. The only two times since everything had gone down back home. It felt good, really good, and for a minute he missed the camaraderie he’d left behind. Maybe it was a sign he was getting back on track.
Or maybe Liv had something to do with it.
He really had to stop thinking about that bitch. She was trouble and he’d promised Snoop to let it go.
So why couldn’t he?
“You just let me know who piques your interest. Out of town guests get first dibs,” Slack offered.
He grinned. “In that case, I might take more than one.”
Slack chuckled, but suddenly got serious. “You doing alright? Heard about your shit back in Colorado.”
“I’m good. Just taking some time to clock a few miles and regroup.”
“I get that. Buddha called and said you might roll through to represent, since you were in the neighborhood. I told the boys not to bring it up. Figured you don’t need that bullshit. But you let me know if there’s anything I can do, yeah?”
“Yeah. Appreciate it.”
“Glad you came, brother. Nomad can be lonely as fuck sometimes.” With that, he walked away, presumably to go look for his pot of gold again. Because, fuck superstition about not seeing the bride and all that shit. Knowing Slack’s sex drive, he’d have Meg on her back at least one more time before the actual ceremony.
Torch headed inside for a drink. He spotted several more members at the bar, already looking three-sheets-to-the-wind and enjoying the attention of a bevy of club crawlers while they still could. The girls would all be kicked out in a few hours when the old ladies showed up, otherwise the wedding would turn into a goddamn massacre.
There was a well-defined pecking order among the club’s women, crawlers were at the very bottom. Old ladies ruled the roost with iron fists.
Sure, some— alright, most—of the men had side pieces and didn’t bother keeping it a secret. But there was an unwritten rule that if you fucked around, you didn’t let it touch your home life, because drama tended to spill over between the two. Which was why there was never a shortage of rubbers littering clubhouses and the girls were kept away from family events.
Other clubs did things different, but he thought the Serpents treated their women pretty damn well. They couldn’t be members, but if you claimed one, she became part of the family. She was a sister. Loyalty and respect for the club were the most important requirements, because an old lady was her man’s responsibility. If she fucked up, you fucked up, and that meant you were going to take the brunt of the punishment.
Looking back, Torch hadn’t thought that part through before marrying Penny. The bitch had only gotten his ass kicked once, but it was one time too many. Fuck if he repeated that mistake again. Women in general were more trouble than they were worth. And it was hard to find a quality one anyway. It took a special kind of female to put up with the highs and lows of club life without turning into a raging fucking psycho, and you didn’t find those women among the
Similar Books
