“I hope making partner is worth giving up your chance of finding a great guy. Maybe this guy would’ve worked out. You don’t know.”
“I don’t think so. I mean, he didn’t ask for us to get together again. From the way he acted, I got the impression that one-night stands are kinda his thing.”
They both laughed, and then Baylee changed the subject to Claudia. As she filled her in on her latest dating escapades, Baylee couldn’t help but remember how incredible it felt with the sexy stud inside her, or how he licked and traced her tattoo with his tongue. Stop, Baylee. Maybe getting away from the city for a few months would be a good thing. At least in Pinewood Springs, she wouldn’t be wondering every time she came into a restaurant or walked down the street if his face would be among the crowd. Pinewood Springs looked like it was the perfect distance she needed for the memory of his hands and mouth on her body to fade away.
Chapter Four
Pinewood Springs
Axe sat at the bar in the clubhouse’s great room, rubbing his finger up and down the neck of his beer bottle. To his right sat Rosie, one of the Insurgents’ club whores, a perplexed look on her face.
“What’s happening?” Jerry asked as he clamped his hand on Axe’s shoulder.
“Nothing much. Just came in to grab a cold one. Fuck, it’s sweltering outside.” Axe took a long pull on his beer.
Jerry glanced at Rosie then turned back to Axe. “What’s up with Rosie? She’s giving you the evil eye.”
Axe shrugged.
“He doesn’t wanna have any fun,” Rosie said.
Jerry raised his eyebrows. “Really? Now that’s a surprise. You gonna leave poor Rosie high and dry?”
“Guess so. Why don’t you take care of her?”
“I think I will.” Jerry grabbed Rosie’s wrist and yanked her to him. “Come on. I’ll have some fun with you.”
Rosie pressed in to Jerry and ran her long fingers down his side.
“Later,” Jerry called out as he and Rosie walked toward the small rooms down the hall.
Axe jerked his chin and grunted. Fuck, there goes some prime pussy, and I’m just sitting here drinking a beer. What the fuck? He kicked the bar stool next to him, knocking it down. Blade, one of the prospects, rushed over and picked it up. Axe narrowed his eyes. What the hell was going on with him? He’d been acting like a fucking idiot ever since he returned to Pinewood Springs the previous week.
It was true he was working more hours than ever in the bike repair shop, and for the past week, it’d been hotter than Hell. He never liked the heat all that much; he’d take a snowstorm over a heat wave any day. Maybe that was it.
But maybe not.
Motioning to Blade for another beer, Axe looked around the room. It was pretty quiet at the clubhouse, but then Wednesday afternoons tended to be dead. Most of the brothers were at work, and the few who were at the clubhouse were either watching the races on the big-screen TV hanging on the back wall, passed out drunk, or screwing one of the club whores or mamas.
Damn. I should be fuckin’ one of the whores. For reasons he couldn’t explain, Axe wasn’t in the mood for any of them, hadn’t been since he fucked his brains out with that hottie at Derek’s wedding. Why that should make a difference, he didn’t know, but he was pretty sick and tired of thinking about her while watching other brothers having a good time.
Axe never thought twice about a woman after he banged her. A few minutes after fucking, he’d push the bitch out of his bed to put as much distance as possible between him and her. That was just the way he rolled. He wasn’t the settling-down type. And if the way he treated the women bothered them, they never said; they simply left with a gigantic smile and the afterglow of several mind-blowing orgasms on their faces.
The citizen women he sometimes hooked up with would write their phone numbers on his hands or his chest, their eyes gleaming in expectation of another encounter with him. After he left, Axe couldn’t rub the numbers off his skin fast enough, and he never saw them again, at least not in the way they craved. He’d bump into them at the grocery store, or at biker rallies, and they’d rush over with hope in their eyes that maybe he’d end up between their legs for one more romp, the memories of his hot tongue on their wet mounds too much to bear.
Axe, being the sonofabitch he was, would flirt like hell with them, making them believe they were special and he may spend the night with them, but then he’d disappear, go to the clubhouse and fuck a few of the club whores at the same time. He preferred to do his main screwing with the club women or the hoodrats; there was less drama and little to no expectation that his coupling with them would mean anything more than pleasure for that moment in time. Once he was done satisfying himself, he’d tell them to high-tail it out of his room. Axe hated entanglements.