Page 14 of Mile High With the Bikers (Screaming Eagles MC #10)

RORY

I whip around, finding a gorgeous woman with dark curly hair, wearing a friendly smile and honestly, not much else.

Just an off the shoulder pink tank top that hangs down to her upper thighs.

From the amount of side boob showing, it's obvious she's not wearing a bra.

I could be wrong, but I think she was one of the ones that popped up from behind the couch.

Glancing around like she's afraid to be spotted, she crouches and comes back up with a pink purse that matches her tank top. “Found it. Come on. We're not really supposed to be hanging around in here when the boys aren't around.”

She leads the way out through a door that puts us in a hallway past a bunch of featureless doors.

Towards the end is a double door covered in stickers with a pair of panties glued to the outside.

Someone wrote ‘No Boys Allowed’ in black marker, underlining it twice.

Women are laughing on the other side, and the door opens into a sort of gym locker room style hangout space.

There are showers along one wall with flower curtains, a couple beat up lounge chairs to sit in, and a long counter with sinks, chairs, and a mirror that runs the full length.

Scattered around the counter and underneath are baskets full of everything from tampons to makeup to what looks like disposable underwear.

In the center is a round table with a small group of women hanging out and chatting. They look up as soon as we walk in.

A redhead looks up. “Who’s the new girl, Cherry?”

“This is…” My guide blinks at me. “Actually, you didn't tell me your name.”

They all look at me expectantly.

I make a little wave. “I'm Rory. Nice to meet you.” A mix of smiles and skepticism comes in response.

“Did you get lost on the way to church?” one of them sneers, with a really judgmental look.

“Don’t be a bitch, Jas. Maybe she’s like someone’s sister or something,” the redhead snaps back. “Ignore her, I’m Angel.”

Cherry shakes her head. “Jas is just pissy because the Brute Squad came back tonight with Rory on their arm, and no time for a celebration party with her. And they were telling her about the club and stuff, so maybe she’s sticking around.

” She walks over and ruffles Jas’s hair.

“Poor Jasmine. Don’t worry; there’s plenty of dick to go around. ”

Note to self, sound carries in the common room. “Did I do something wrong?”

“She thinks she’s better than us,” Jas fires off accusingly.

They all look at me.

“I don’t!” I hold up my hand in defense. “I really don’t! This is my first time here. I have no idea what I’m doing.”

Angel snorts. “I wouldn’t say that. You must’ve done something right for them to bring you here and not kick you out in the morning.”

“We had sex, if that’s what you mean.” It takes every ounce of strength I have to say that out loud, but I think playing shy in this room won’t win me many friends. I can’t do much about the flush crawling up my neck, though.

“Oh, no wonder they love you. You’re so sweet with that pretty blonde hair and those soft eyes,” Cherry teases. “I bet they got to feel all big and growly.”

“They love that shtick,” agrees a woman with long, pitch black hair. There’s a ring in her nose, two through her eyebrow and one on her lip. She pitches her voice high. “Oh! You’re sooooo big! That’s never going to fit. Please be gentle.”

The whole table breaks down in laughter.

Jas cracks a smile. “And then they want you to hop on that dick like an amusement park ride.”

The girls nod knowingly.

Do I feel out of place? Definitely, but it seems that just like the Screaming Eagles have their own sort of brotherhood, the women here have formed their own kind of community and they’re just as fierce about it.

Also, should I be writing down tips?

Cherry pulls me over to the table and pushes me into one of the chairs.

“So,” Cherry starts, grabbing my hands in hers like we're about to have a serious girl talk. “Tell us everything. Were you really with all of them or was it just one or two? Where did you even meet? Because nothing personal, but you look like you’re dressed for a business casual lunch.”

The whole sequence of events that brought me here flashes through my head. Not wanting to get into the whole shootout, plane crash, car theft story, I settle on the one thing I can imagine. “I was a stewardess on their flight home.”

“Ooooh,” a couple of them say in chorus, like that makes total sense.

Cherry grins mischievously. “You had the whole outfit and everything? Niiiice. I bet you leaned over real nice and did the whole ‘Coffee? Tea? Me?’ thing, right? Or did you coax one of them into the bathroom to join the mile high club?”

My jaw drops.

She squeals. “Oh my God, you did! That’s so hot!”

“Something like that.” If only she knew, but I'm not quite ready to share everything with the sisterhood. What we did feels too personal, but maybe that’s just me imagining things.

If the guys are used to having women like this hanging around, I probably need to keep my expectations high on orgasms and low on meaningful connection.

“We should do a costume night.” Cherry looks over at the black-haired one. “What do you think, Opal? Stewardess, Nurse, Schoolgirl, the whole nine yards.”

“Game if you are,” Opal replies with a naughty grin. “Gimme your phone number, Rory. We’ll have to invite you since you’re the inspiration.”

“S—sure…” I give her my number, but there’s a hollow feeling in my gut at the thought of being an outsider that gets invited in to play sometimes, while these women will be here to make sure that the members, including mine , are well taken care of.

“Listen, you obviously need someone to show you the ropes around here, and I volunteer.” Cherry pulls my hand closer, still holding on to it. “Me and Opal. We work really well together.”

Opal blows her a kiss.

I can only imagine they're big favorites with the bikers. I wonder if my guys have—no, I can't think like that. They're definitely experienced and I'm sure they've done a lot of things that I don't want to know about, but that's none of my business. I don't have a claim on them anyway.

“Poker?” Jasmine pulls out a deck of cards and starts to shuffle. “I hate when shit hits the fan. Leaves us hanging around back here instead of having fun. And I don't have to be at the Roost for another five hours. You don’t think we’ll still be under lockdown, do you? I need those tips.”

The girls glance back and forth between each other.

Opal finally breaks the silence. “Probably not, but who knows? Things have been pretty quiet lately. We’re kind of due a crisis. Deal me in.”

Jasmine looks at me.

I shake my head. “Pass.” I've had enough of poker for a good while.

“Do you need to freshen up or anything?” Cherry's finally let go of my hand. “There's showers here, and we have a couple rooms for us to crash in where the guys aren’t allowed. We only have water to drink, unfortunately. Usually we can get stuff from the kitchen or the bar, but we’re not supposed to wander when there might be fighting.”

“Thanks, but I'm good.”

“Oooh! How about a makeover?” Angel suggests, rubbing her hands together. “If you thought the boys couldn't keep their hands off you before, just wait until we get you looking like you're begging for it.”

She's so enthusiastic, I can't help but laugh. “Thanks again, but I don't think I'm quite ready for that.”

“She won't last,” grunts Jasmine, while she deals to those who decided to join. When I look up at her, she shrugs. “Nothing personal. You seem nice, and you’re obviously not a total prude, but you don't have the slut vibe.”

“Hey! I could totally be a slut! I just have a lot going on right now, that’s all.”

Cherry struggles not to laugh. “Of course you could.”

“It’s not a competition. Have your fun while it lasts and then get on with your life. You have a cool job with a sexy uniform and get to travel the world,” Opal adds.

They seem so sure that it’s making me want to prove them wrong.

I’m one challenge away from telling them to find me a push-up bra and pole dancing classes.

But maybe she's right. This isn't my world at all, and I would miss the excitement of working on new projects and solving problems that people think can’t be done. I don’t really want to be a motorcycle club slut, but for a little while it’s nice to feel like I could belong somewhere with people who aren’t pretending to be nice to me because of my father. Or who hate me for the same reason.

Angel picks up her cards. “She could be an old lady. Then she could hang out with us and keep the cool job.”

“Are the old ladies nice?” I ask, curious about these women I keep hearing about but haven’t actually seen.

“They’re not not nice,” Cherry says diplomatically enough that it sounds like a no.

“Now who’s being a bitch?” Jasmine snaps. “They’re cool, we just don’t usually hang out together. Kaylee’s nice. She’s a hairdresser and she’ll do cuts and stuff for free if we buy the chemicals. And Natalie is pretty chill. She does some shifts at the Roost outside of her bakery hours.”

Angel nods. “And Jewel is great. She used to be a slut, but that was before our time. I think that’s why we don’t know most of them that well. They stick around and we’re just passing through. It’s probably hard to want to make friends with people who might leave tomorrow.”

“And who might’ve fucked your old man.”

Cherry gasps. “Jas!”

“Well it’s true! None of these dudes are exactly saving it for marriage.”

My stomach growls, reminding me that I still haven't eaten. It's so loud that everyone hears. “Sorry. We were going to get breakfast but then this happened.”

“I’m starving, too,” Angel admits.

Opal grins. “Come on. If we're fast and quiet, they won't notice us raid the fridge. We’ll bring back some.”

The common room is still empty when we get there, sneaking along the wall like ninjas on a mission, Opal, Cherry and me.

At the back, it opens into a communal kitchen with a giant fridge.

Opal opens it and peeks in. She pulls out some plastic wrapped sandwiches.

“Emergency rations. Check it out. As long as it isn’t labeled?—”

“Or Eagle-eye’s yogurt,” Cherry adds, pointing at some plastic cups near the top.

“Right, or the yogurt, it’s pretty much fair game.” She hands me one that looks like turkey and cheese.

“You sure we can?—”

“Eat it.” Opal’s already unwrapping hers.

Fine, at least I won't be the only one, and I'm starving.

I'm just finishing the first and wondering if it'd be rude to ask for another one when heavy boots clunk out onto the metal platform overhead then start down the stairs.

The three of us look at each other with wide eyes, and Cherry holds a finger to her lips, signaling quiet. Crap, how much trouble are we in?

“Any news?” There's someone else up there with Eagle-eye.

“Chef,” Opal mouths. She looks apprehensive.

Crap, if they come down here, we're going to be spotted. How serious is the stay out of the common room rule? Am I about to get yelled at, kicked out, or shot?

“Not yet.” Eagle-eye's voice isn't happy. “No fucking sign of either of them. I really don't like this.”

Footsteps start down the stairs, but before we get the chance to really panic, a phone starts ringing. The ring tone is rock guitar with a driving drum beat under it.

“Talk to me.” A pause. “Hold up. What the fuck are you talking about?” Eagle-eye sounds angry. “I don't have your fucking daughter. Why the fuck would I?”

Oh thank God.

Oh shit.

“Call me a liar one more fucking time, and we will have a God damned problem. Me and my whole fucking club. For the last fucking time, I don’t care who you are and I don’t know shit about your kid.”

“If you get a chance, sneak out,” I whisper. There’s no point in all of us going down together.

Opal and Cherry's eyes go huge. Cherry shakes her head while Opal gestures for me to get back down.

I shake my head. “Save yourselves.” Then I walk out from the kitchen and put my hand on the railing for the stairs to his office. “Um, maybe we should talk.”

Chef notices me first, and then Eagle-eye, who trails off. “I need to call you back.” He taps his phone, sticks it in his pocket and narrows his razor sharp eye at me. “Tell me you're not who I fucking think you are.”

I wet my lips nervously, but move around so that if Chef and Eagle-eye are looking at me, they won't see Cherry and Opal making their escape.

“I wish I could, but I'm Rory Whittaker.”