Chapter Ten
Since Friday, brothers from the Insurgents chapters in Wyoming and Nebraska had been arriving, and the clubhouse party was in full-swing. All of the upstairs rooms and the guest houses out back were full, and about seventy Harleys lined the lot behind the compound, the sun’s rays glinting off the chrome on the customized bikes.
The clubhouse came to life on Friday and Saturday nights, and getting fucked, drunk, and stoned were favorite pastimes for most of the members. Even though the Insurgents didn’t allow any hardcore drug use, whenever a big gathering like this occurred, crystal and crank flowed freely. The home members turned a blind eye to it, but home club members were not allowed to do anything but weed.
There were always women at the big parties. Women loved bikers and their bikes, and the Insurgents had their own groupies just like rock stars.
The Insurgents never had a shortage of women. Chicks were drawn to the bikers’ badass attitudes and rebel lifestyle. Horny women who wanted sex any way it came found the MC an exciting outlet for their fantasies, and bored, restless women who wanted to take a walk on the wild side were drawn to the macho men like magnets. There were those who got a rush from being with a feared outlaw biker, and others who loved the freedom from responsibility. There were also the women who confused sex with affection when the strong arms of an Insurgents member held them.
Every weekend, a throng of girls lined up in front of the club’s gate, an excited glow emanating from them. They waited in too-high heels and barely there outfits for a couple of hours just to spend one night of wild abandon with the Insurgents.
“Fuck, haven’t seen this many brothers in a long time. It’s good to be together,” Banger said to Ruben.
“Yeah, I haven’t been to a crazy party in a while. I’m glad Doris was cool with this tonight. You know these old ladies—sometimes they’re okay with all this, and other times, they’re screamin’ and madder than hell if you go.” He laughed.
“I know what you mean, man. When my Grace was here, she’d monitor my club parties. She was my woman, my property, but shit, she had me wrapped around her little finger. She was the best. I miss her.”
Ruben nodded. “She was a good woman. Doris can be a pain in the ass, but I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
“Tomorrow night will get wilder. I see a fresh pussy I’d like to try. You comin’?” Banger asked.
“Nope, I’m just lookin’ for now. Go have fun.”
Banger walked over to a voluptuous woman who was busting out of her strapless spandex dress. Banger liked a woman with some flesh on her; he wasn’t into the bag-of-bones bitches who came to the club. His Grace had been a big, beautiful woman. He put his arm around the hoodrat and whispered in her ear, making her throw her head back in laughter while her hand stroked his growing cock.
* * *
When Hawk entered the great room, it was nearly midnight, and the smell of alcohol, tobacco, and weed hit him in the face. The room was smoky and dimly-lit, and all around him, brothers and bitches were fucking and sucking. The smell of sex enveloped him. He chatted with several brothers from Wyoming and Nebraska, guys he hadn’t seen in a long time. The camaraderie was good, comfortable and familiar. This was his life, his family. It was where he belonged: a shot of Jack, Moonshine Bandits’ “For the Outlawz” rockin’ through the speakers, his brothers all around him. This was the life he loved.
There were a lot of hot, new women that night. A big party like that always brought out a shitload of women. It never ceased to amaze Hawk how easy it was to get one, and how these bitches threw themselves at him. He could have any woman he wanted without a problem, except for Cara, and it pissed him off because he knew she wanted him. He saw it in her flushed face when he was near her and felt it when she quivered under his touch, but it was the dark ache that burned in her eyes which convinced him that she desired him.
Yet she resisted. Hawk sensed that she struggled with some do-what-is-expected bullshit, but her body, and the way it responded to him, told him that she needed him just as fucking much as he needed her. Fuck, I bet she’s a wildcat in bed.
As he looked around the room, emptiness grabbed hold of Hawk, and he wished Cara were with him. No, he wished Cara were hanging with him at his house; he wanted to take her out to dinner or a movie and spend time with her. Fuck, what am I thinking? I fuck, but I don’t date. This woman makes me want to break all my rules.
Hawk threw back his shot, waved to Jerry behind the bar, and left the clubhouse. He revved up his Harley, speeding away into the darkness.