The Outlaw's Obsession(2)

“We still on for tomorrow’s meeting?” Jagger asked but kept his gaze forward. Tina bent at the waist, and her pussy lips parted, showing him a prime shot of her hole.

“Yeah. Sticks wants us to check out his operation and see if we are interested in signing on as partners. Jace should be there, too.”

He looked over at his VP, and the other male nodded.

“It’s pretty lucrative. Of course not like hauling drugs, but I know the turnout can be pretty hardcore,” Diesel said and then brought the beer bottle to his mouth and took a long drink. The male was looking a little rough around the edges, but then again they had been drinking for twelve hours. The sweet smell of marijuana filled the clubhouse, and when one of the members handed a joint to Diesel his VP inhaled deeply from it. Diesel’s light blond hair was tied at the nape of his neck, and his day old stumble was a constant presence.

Jagger took the offered joint, and he brought it to his lips. He took three puffs from it as he continued to watch their own personal stripper, and then handed it off to one of the other members. “Good. We all want to go down a different path concerning bringing in money. Mule-ing drugs is well and good and brings in some serious cash, but I think getting into business with the human and lion shifter is a step in the right direction. I think the club needs something that isn’t so high profile and something more off the grid. It’ll be a step we need to take for future ventures.”

Diesel nodded, but kept his gaze on the pussy shaking her shit in front of them. They’d need to vote on it after they saw the set-up, but the crew seemed juiced up about the prospect of getting out of drugs and into fighting. It was all illegal, but underground fighting was a hell of a lot less in the face of authorities.

Jagger looked over at Brick. He was currently pushing the female toward the ground and positioning her so she was between his thighs. His right hand at the club table was a dangerous bastard, which was saying a lot since every single one of the Grizzly members were bad motherfuckers. The scar that ran along Brick’s right cheek stood out under the dim light. It had been years since he had gotten that scar, but Jagger remembered the fight they’d had in a hole-in-the-wall bar when a Wolverine had started shit with a Grizzly over some bar pussy.

Tina moved over to him, swaying her ass and running her hands over her tits. She pinched her nipples between her fingers until they were erect and stood out like they were begging for his mouth. Someone passed him another joint, and he placed it between his lips. Tina opened her legs a little, started moving down, and then slowly coming up.

Diesel stood and gripped the hand of his club whore, and Jagger took his seat. Tina smiled seductively and turned around. She bent at the waist, grabbed her ankles, and started shaking her ass like it was going out of style. Jagger should have told her to move along, but he didn’t, and instead watched the show she put on for him. Her pussy lips spread open when she parted her legs even more. Jagger’s cock shot forward when she reached behind, spread the cheeks, and showed her tight little hole. Jagger loved all parts of a female, loved sticking his dick in a nice warm and wet cunt and sucking on a big ass pair of titties. Jagger was a curves kind of man, not like protruding bones on his females. Those types of women wanted to make him give them a hamburger. But his favorite part was a big juicy ass and the tight hole between the cheeks, and Tina was all about showing hers off. So, he should have told her to go away, but instead decided that a filthy lap dance was exactly what he needed.



Sonya grabbed several empty glasses, a few beer bottles turned on their side, and shoved them in the bucket she carried. There were times she thought being a club whore for the Wolverine MC would have been a lot easier than her position. Hell, at least the club pussy enjoyed themselves. She threw the empty bottles away and put the glasses in the sink. The Wolverines had partied hard last night, but then again when didn’t they? She loved Colorado, loved the wilderness and scenery, and the fresh mountain air. But that love had died a long time ago, seven years ago to be exact. Now at the age of twenty-two, she was all but the property of Dale “Trick” Maloney, the president of this particular piece-of-shit motorcycle club, and the male that made her a prisoner. She glanced up at the exit, saw two prospects bullshitting by it, and glanced at the other exit in the clubhouse. A third prospect leaned against the wall beside it, a cigarette hanging from his lips, and his eyes trained right on her.

This was her life, every day, all day, and she was used to it, for the most part. Why hadn’t she left? When she was first taken that was all she had thought about and tried. When Trick came after her parents for their property, it had all been about needing the land as headquarters for him to cook the toxic stuff on. But he hadn’t just wanted to use it for that, as if that wasn’t bad enough. He also planned for it to be his little distribution station. But Tanner White wasn’t about to give up his land that had been in his family for three generations, no matter the amount being offered, or the threats when that offer was denied. What her father hadn’t anticipated was a psychopath like Trick. It had only taken her father one denial of giving up his farm before Trick killed both of her parents. She would have joined them in death if it hadn’t been for Trick stopping one of his members from putting a bullet in her head.