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Gibson

I like to fuck as much as any red-blooded man, but Bangin’ Betties are a tricky conquest.

Smoke fills the room, causing a cloudy haze to blanket everyone. The smell of cigars, cigarettes, and marijuana is thick, and it’s mixed with the stench of booze and sweat. Classic rock music spills from the speakers in what can only be described as loud, almost bordering on obnoxious. But that’s nothing new. This is, after all, a Soulless Kings MC party. It would feel like a run of the mill frat party if there weren’t half naked Bangin’ Betties walking around or one-time couples fucking on the few couches spread throughout the space.

This is a far cry from your military days.

“Ya gonna stand here all night and gawk, or are you gonna join in on the fun?”

I swivel to look at Fender, my president, who’s holding a glass of amber liquor in one hand and a half smoked joint in the other. He’s comfortable in this atmosphere, at home. But for those of us who know him well, we know he would be just as comfortable at home on the couch with his ol’ lady, Charlie, or in the middle of a war zone holding an assault rifle and shooting at his enemies.

“Do you have any idea how many Betties I’ve looked at tonight?” I ask in response.

“As a brother, or as a doc?” He chuckles. “Because there’s a huge difference.”

“You’re damn right there’s a difference.” I snag the joint from his fingers and take a hit. When I exhale, I feel cleansed. Or most of me does. My memory though… that’s another story. “I’ve treated six. Which means I’ve laid eyes on three twats with varying ailments , two mouths lined with cold sores, one infected nipple piercing, and one hand with fingers covered in what can only be described as…” I shudder. “... horrifically gross.”

“All in all, not a bad night,” Fender jokes, although I fail to see the humor.

“That’s a real low bar, Prez.”

“Maybe, but it’s all part of the territory, Gib. If you’ll recall, I gave you the option of not being in charge of the Betties’ care.”

“You did,” I concede. “But I also remember you drilling into me how them seeing a doctor outside of the club could bring a mountain of questions to our door.”

“True.”

We stand there in silence, observing the party. I instructed those I treated tonight to stay away from anything beyond dancing so nothing gets passed to an unsuspecting horndog, and so far, they all seem to be heading my words.

Fender walks away when he sees Charlie, his ol’ lady, extricating herself from a group of women, leaving me to scan the crowd. My eyes land on the door to the clubhouse just as another Betty walks in. Alena . Now she’s a Bangin’ Betty I’d like to examine. She’s sinfully sexy in her short skirt and the lacy number some would call a shirt. It leaves nothing to the imagination, but I imagine that comes in real handy at work. She is a prostitute after all.

Alena and I have talked a few times, enjoyed a drink or two together, but we’ve never crossed that line from friends to lovers. I’d give my left nut to, but she’s been around one too many blocks... although, I could easily be persuaded to forget that little bit of info. I also get the impression that she doesn’t get enough human interaction that isn’t built on sex, so I try to keep that in mind when I’m around her.

I wave my hand in the air to call her over and watch the rhythmic dance of her hips as she walks. The closer she gets, the more her face lights up. Her smile is wide, her white teeth flashing in the minimal lighting. She certainly hasn’t let her years working on the street impact her looks.

“I’ve been waiting for you to ask me to dance all night.”

I lower my stare to my arm, glaring at the red-tipped fingernails trailing down my skin. They might as well be razorblades, for all the effect they have on me. I lift my eyes to Dana, another Bangin’ Betty. Her smile is just as wide as Alena’s, but it’s dull, forced… fake as fuck.

I shift my eyes back to Alena, only to see she changed directions and is now being coaxed into a dance by a new hang around, Garret. Anger at the untimely flirting simmers beneath the surface.

Grabbing Dana by the wrist, I remove her hand from my arm and take a step back.

“We’ve been down this road,” I remind her. “We don’t mix well.”

In other words, she’s not the best lay I’ve ever had, and I’ve no interest in an encore. Dana is too strung out for my tastes. Sure, she gets the job done, but barely. And when I looked at her in the fresh light of day the next morning, I felt like I needed a giant dose of penicillin.

Don’t get me wrong, I like to fuck as much as any red-blooded man, but Bangin’ Betties are a tricky conquest. A person can only treat a pussy so much as a doctor before it becomes damn near impossible to get turned on by it.

That’s the beauty of Alena… her pimp handles all his girls’ medical care. And because he does, they’re some of the best out there. Or so I’ve heard.

“Aw, Gibby, c’mon,” Dana prods with a sultry undertone. She’s the only one who calls me that, other than my mother, and it makes me cringe. “Gimme another shot. I know we can be good together.”

She flattens her palms against my chest and leans her head back. A laugh crawls up the back of my throat at the way her bottom lip is poked out. I know she’s trying to look sexy, but she just looks desperate and pathetic. When her arms go around my neck and her fingers through my hair, I once again grab her wrists, a little more forcefully this time.

“Listen, Dana, there are plenty of other guys here.” I peel her off of me and push her back a step until my arms lock and she’s not able to work her way forward. “You and me… we’re not happening again.”

For a split second, I think I see rage flash across her face, but it’s gone so quickly, replaced by a sultry smile, that I figure I’m imagining things.

“Your loss, Gibby.”

With that, she walks away, and the sway of her hips has nothing on Alena.

Speaking of, I flick my gaze in her direction and see Garret with his arms around her waist and his hands draped over her ass. Their bodies are as close as two humans can be without actually fucking right here in front of everyone. Heat sears me from the inside out, red-hot jealousy making itself known. I have no claim on her, so the rush of emotion makes no sense.

I debate on interrupting their foreplay, but before I can, Alena freezes. She steps back from Garret and shoves her hand down her skirt, only to pull out a cell phone. I watch as she taps the screen, the light from it illuminating her face. Her eyes narrow as she, I assume, reads a text message. She taps out a quick reply before saying something to Garret and then kissing him on the cheek and bolting toward the door.

Once she’s gone, I stroll in Garret’s direction. By the time I reach him, he’s already entwined with Sass, one of the Betties I treated earlier.

“Proceed with caution, Garret,” I say, loudly enough to be heard over the music.

Sass, short for Sassafras—what were her parents thinking?—glares at me, clearly pissed that I’m interrupting what was sure to end in a quick fuck. Too damn bad. I know what awaits Garret if he continues down this particular road, and I’m not in the mood to treat him too.

Thinking he’s in trouble, Garret steps away from Sass and turns to face me. “I’m sorry, Gibson, I didn’t realize she was taken.”

I chuckle. “She’s not. Not by me anyway.”

Confusion rolls over his features. I know the moment he finally gets my warning because his eyes widen.

“Oh, right.” He looks at Sass. “Sorry, honey, but… maybe next time?”

“Sure, whatever.” Sass stomps away and joins Dana and a few other Bangin’ Betties on the opposite side of the room.

“Thanks, man,” Garret says. “Appreciate it.”

“Why’d Alena bolt so fast?” I ask, not giving two shits about his appreciation.

Garret shakes his head, seemingly thrown off by the quick change in topic, but he recovers.

“She said she got called into work.”

“Ah, okay.”

It makes sense. She’s been called away by her pimp before. But it doesn’t happen often. Satisfied that nothing was wrong, I leave Garret to return to the bar.

I spend the next hour getting good and drunk so maybe, just maybe, I can go home with a woman tonight… one who can satisfy the itch I have for someone else.