Page 7 of Riding Dirty

“I saw her, so I’m going to assume she’ll be worth whatever the fuck you pay her,” he states, his lips twitching into a knowing smirk.

I’m not sure what the fuck he thinks he knows, but I am not shitting where I eat, and I need someone trustworthy who will shut the fuck up and work. I can’t screw that up by dipping my dick inside her.

Even if I really fucking want to do just that.

“I need a drink,” I grind out.

Dare chuckles, finally stepping to the side, then allows me to pass. But not before he makes a comment.

“I’m sure you do, brother.”

I could tell him to fuck right off but decide against it. I’ve already made my decision. That sexy little girl is going to come in here, clean, get paid, and walk out the door. And that’s going to happen every single week.

She’s off-limits.

Not just to me but to every man in this club, something I’m sure I’ll have to make perfectly clear more than once. To the club and, if I’m being honest, to myself. Because while I have self-control, I’m not sure I’ll be able to keep a handle on it. I’ll probably have to remove myself from the clubhouse when she’s around.

I can already tell I’m going to like everything about her a little too much.

Once I reach the bar, I tap my finger against the scarred wooden top. Half of it has a glass cover with pictures from the past slipped beneath, evidence of debauchery. This side doesn’t yet, but I’m sure it will soon enough.

“What can I get you?” the prospect asks.

I don’t make him call me sir like the patched members made me do. We’re not as uptight as the past members. They were all Vietnam or Korean vets who started this club as a way to live their lives as freely as possible, not wanting to be part of the conventional part of society, but they fucking loved rules.

For people who didn’t want to have rules, they sure fucking loved making them. They also loved structure and hierarchy. As the old guard has retired or passed away, the rules have become a bit more fluid, but some are here to stay.

Don’t betray the club.

The president has overall say.

Respect the old ladies.

To name a few. But we’ve lost a lot of the formalities over the years. I don’t know if the original chapter is as lax as we are, but this works for us, and we’ll keep it this way until it doesn’t work anymore. I’m not down with being a hard-ass around the men I call brothers unless I absolutely have to.

Thankfully, Dare thinks the same way, so the vibes are chill until they need to be turned up.

“Tequila. No shot glass needed.”

He lets out a low whistle, no doubt knowing what that means. I’m getting fucked up tonight. I have to. Otherwise, I’m going to think about that sexy little cleaner and go after her. She filled out a bunch of paperwork, which includes her fucking address. I do not need that shit handy.

So I drink.

And then I get my dick sucked before I pass out.

CHAPTER

FIVE

WRATH

My phone rings, and I tug it out of my inner cut pocket, glancing down at the screen before I slide my thumb across to answer it. It says UNKNOWN NUMBER, which doesn’t bother me. Doing what I do, that is typical.

I hold the device to my ear before I greet the person on the other end of the phone.

“Wrath.”

There is a moment of silence, and I wonder if it’s one of those robocalls. I start to move the phone away from my ear to hang up when I hear a man’s voice on the other end. He repeats my name before clearing his throat, and then I hear him speak.