Page 7 of Kings Don't Break

An explicit one that almost has me feeling it’s inappropriate even for a damn biker club.

Janessa lies on her bed in nothing but a lacy panty. Her body’s arched, pierced tits thrust forward and ass pushed back at an angle showing off her feminine curves.

It’s a photo that would make any male brain malfunction.

Damn sure makes mine. I forget where the hell I am for a second.

A moment later, she follows up with another text.

Miss u babe. im so lonely. when can i see u?;)

I glance over my shoulder at Stein and Bush’s table. The two older gentlemen have moved on to talking sports. I refocus on my phone and text Janessa back, asking what she’s up to this afternoon.

Thinking of u. Duh. Come over

I think on her reply one more second before I agree.

Mace’s correct when he says she’s for late nights only—our most recent club party being the exception. I tested the waters and brought Janessa around the guys. Something I don’t do often with women I’m sleeping with.

There’s never been anyone serious enough to. Just casual flings that burn for a couple months before the fire goes out altogether.

But Janessa… it’s been longer than usual. Though we’ve got little in common and our chemistry starts and ends in bed, I don’t mind her so much.

An afternoon lay will give me something to do. That photo did what it was supposed to—it turned me on enough to make me want to see Janessa at a moment’s notice.

I mount my bike parked outside the saloon and take off.

November in Pulsboro means frosty air and muted skies. Today’s no different. I speed through the small-town streets, causing looks everywhere I go with the rumble of my Street Bob.

Janessa and I met a couple months ago in the aftermath of what happened with the Hellrazors and Road Rebels. I’d been in the ER when a registered nurse—all curves under the scrubs she wore and with a wild, chocolatey brown mane—had treated me. She’d had a flirty glint in her eye the entire time. It was no surprise she wound up slipping me her number with my prescription.

We’ve been hooking up ever since.

She lives on the outskirts of town. Another twenty minutes, and I’ll be there.

I turn down the last street that’ll lead to the highway. The late autumn wind blows my hair back and feels icy cool on the skin. I’ve got my shades on or else I’d be squinting against the force of it.

I grip my buckhorn handlebars and turn to merge onto the highway. The road leading out of town looks crowded, even for a Friday. I’m easing up on my speed, gradually braking, when I spot the car on the shoulder of the road.

A beat-up Geo Metro that looks like it belongs at a junkyard rather than on the highway.

The female driver stands in front of the popped hood with the kind of glower that tells me she’s having a bad day.

None of my business… ’til I realize I recognize her.

I glance and then glance again.

I’m staring and braking. I’m pulling off to the side of the road to let the impatient cars behind me pass.

I take off my aviators.

My eyes have got to be playing tricks on me. It can’t be… there’s no way it’s…

As I’ve slowed up and pulled over, the woman’s noticed me too. Surprise freezes onto her face, her eyes going wide.

It’s when our gazes meet that I know with certainty. That a wave of familiarity strikes me down.

Korine McKibbens.