Page 8 of Rider Daddies (Venom Vultures MC #6)

ASH

“Runaway bride is pissed that she has to stay.”

We’re in the main room enjoying a glass of cold beer, catching up on last night with some of the other bikers.

“Runaway bride shouldn’t have run away,” says one of the members. “She should have been a good girl and stayed with her husband.”

The mere mention of her “husband” churns my stomach. The man is a failure and a fool. He had killer pussy all to himself and decided to throw it away for another.

But some men are their own worst enemies. Some simply can’t handle a ten-out-of-ten Italian signorina with an ass that doesn’t quit.

Oh, Lacey, what am I going to do with you?

“She says she regrets last night,” Ryder says.

“Of course she did.” I roll my eyes. “If you weren’t too busy staring at her chest, you would’ve seen how wet she was getting. Her arousal was evident, right there in her eyes.” I take a gulp of beer to cool myself off. “She’s filthy.”

“Yes. And I got there first,” Ryder insists.

Saint gives Ryder and me the side-eye. “She wants us all, you know.”

“Yeah, last night she wanted us all,” I say. “But now? I’m afraid it’s going to get a little more complicated.”

I grimace. I can deal with last night, since we were pleasuring her for the simple reason that she was heartbroken and needed cheering up. But Lacey staying here permanently complicates things…

“You think it’s a good idea, letting her work behind the bar?” Ryder asks.

I think it gives me an opportunity to get closer…

“Yeah,” I say. “I think it could be a good idea. We’re missing a pretty face at the bar.”

“Hello?” Ryder circles his face. “If you need a pretty face, all you need to do is ask?—”

“Flatter yourself some other time,” I say. “I’m talking about the guys. Sales are good, but they can always be better. If we get our Lacey serving, we could be in for a higher salary.”

“No.” Ryder says it bluntly.

“You’re security, not bar manager…need you be reminded,” I retort.

“She’s not allowed to entertain other men. I saw her first.”

Typical. It’s always the middle child who refuses to share. Ryder has always gotten his own way, and it gets on my fucking last nerve.

“Also,” Ryder adds. “Can we circle back to you saying our Lacey, like the ownership is communal? She’s a woman, not a dessert.”

I raise my brow at him. “Exactly.”

“Let’s scrap all of this for a second,” Saint says. He takes the cigarette from his mouth and dunks it into his finished beer. “Give her the job.”

Ryder’s face sours. “Why the fuck are you taking his side?”

“Because we could use the money. We don’t work every day like the rest of the patched members do.

We earn most of our living by hosting parties that occur only once a month.

The bar is open every day, but let’s be honest—a lot of members have been coming in and heading straight to bed.

It’s fucking boring. Things need spicing up. ”

Ryder plunges his hand into the empty glass of beer, retrieving Saint’s smoking cigarette. “We’d be profiting if it wasn’t for your fucking nicotine addiction.”

“Can’t blame a man for having a hobby,” Saint says, flicking it back his way. “It’s better than fucking your way around the clubhouse and hogging all of the girls.”

Ryder shoots up, the table banging. “I don’t hog.”

“You just said that you want Lacey all to?—”

“I fucking saw her first?—”

“Alright!” I slap my palm on the table. “We’re not getting anywhere. Lacey stays here. I give her a job at the bar. I think, for the time being, it’s best to forget about the events of last night and focus on business.”

Easier said than done, with the way her pussy walls felt when they were pulsating around my finger last night…

She didn’t have to go and dress like one of the whores.

“Is that a corset I see?” Ryder asks. It’s been two minutes and already he’s at the bar, claiming to order a drink.

“Go away,” I say. “I’m training.”

Lacey smooths a soft hand down her midriff, nodding. “Yeah. One of the girls here insisted. It’s crushing my spleen, but the fit is nice. I don’t care what it looks like as long as it’s not white.”

The dress is long and trails down to the ground, which I’m glad about. She looks hot, but I don’t think that has anything to do with her outfit…it’s just her.

The dress is khaki, a lavender ribbon tied around the waist to cinch it in even more. Her breasts are spilling out of the corset top. My cock is already straining against my pants for her.

For a repeat of last night.

“Leave us, Ryder,” I snap.

Pot…kettle…black. I’m just as possessive around Lacey as he is. The only difference is that I’m unwilling to admit it.

“Okay,” I say, guiding her over to the taps. “The glasses are above your head behind you. There’s a footstool behind the bar somewhere if you have trouble reaching.”

“Or,” Ryder says. “Feel free to ask me.”

I hate that Lacey is still looking at him.

She turns her bright hazel eyes over to me. I swear I could explode in my pants right this second. “How do you work the taps?”

I frown. “You don’t know?”

She shakes her head, teeth sinking deep into her bottom lip. “I know, I’m pathetic at all of this.”

I guide her over and take her hand, placing mine over the top. “Always pour at an angle for beer. That way, you don’t get too much foam.” I crank the tap and we watch together as it shoots out. “Pull it back for a minute. Let it settle.”

She grabs the tap, pulling back hard.

“Okay.” I raise the glass to the light. “See how the white foam is settling? Wait until it’s the same width as your forefinger, and then go again.”

I place the glass back under the tap and let her do the rest, standing behind her for “guidance.” Even though her ass is hidden underneath her dress, I still somehow feel it, warm and round against my erect cock.

I clench my jaw.

Does she feel it too?

Suddenly, she backs her hips into me as she pulls away, serving the beer to Ryder. He takes a long sip, watching her eyes the entire time.

All I can do is roll my eyes.

“Perfect, sweetheart.” He wipes the foam from his lips. “Like you.”

“Ugh,” Lacey says. “Don’t lie. It’s all air in that glass. I’m useless.”

“You’re not useless,” I assure her.

She twirls around, arms crossed over her chest. I’m unsure if this is deliberate or not, but the folded arms make her breasts look even more prominent.

“You’re just saying that because you want to get into my pants.

” She hitches her eyebrow at Ryder. “You might as well be honest about it. It’s so glaringly obvious. ”

Ryder and I share a look.

She sets her hands on her hips, changing the tone. “I forgot to thank you earlier, by the way.”

“The job is no problem, really,” I insist.

“No, not that. The other thing. I appreciate you sticking up for me this morning during your meeting. I get it—you’re the sort of guys that have your cake and eat it, and then move on to the next. You don’t have any loyalties to me. You didn’t need to stick up for me, but you did.”

I study her face. She’s right. The Venom Vultures clubhouse isn’t exactly a love shack that breeds healthy relationships. Nobody mingles here in hopes of finding their life partner. The club’s slogan might as well be “dopamine.” Everything is a quick fix, and that indeed involves Lacey.

“It was me,” Ryder says.

Lacey gives him a smile.

Enough of the nice guy act. “The only reason Ryder does the things he does is because he can’t share,” I tell her.

“Hey.” His face turns bitter.

“He likes to be greedy.”

Lacey bites her lip. Again. Is this a mindless gesture, or something she’s doing purposely to get our attention?

Her pupils dilate. “Possessiveness isn’t a bad thing. In fact, Ryder, you’re not the only one who has greedy tendencies.”

Ryder takes another sip from his drink, swallowing thickly.

Lacey shifts the weight onto her other foot. “I know I was drunk last night, but I meant every word I said…I want all three of you.”

My cock twitches…until the realization sinks in that she wants to share.

“Look, things are upside down for me at the moment. I’m not looking for anything serious.

I’m not looking for you to romance me with a bouquet of roses and treat me like I’m a delicate girl who never made it down the aisle of her own wedding.

I don’t even need you to speak to me.” She pouts her lips.

“Maybe it’s a good thing I found this place.

” She takes a cloth from the bar and wipes the tap.

“I just want a rebound, to be honest…on one condition.”

How many damn conditions does this girl have?

She could have an unlimited amount and I think I’d accept every one, just to get close to that tight little shell between her legs.

“Any condition, darling,” slurs Ryder. He looks drunk, his posture bent in half as he leans over the bar to get as close to Lacey as possible.

“I need to have all three of you.”

Ryder pulls away, straightening up opposite her.

You’ve got to be kidding.

“All due respect, flower,” I say. “I’m not sharing you with my brothers.”

“Sharing whom with what now?” interjects Saint, hopping in next to Ryder.

Lacey shrugs her slender shoulders, standing by her point. “I mean what I say…apart from earlier this morning. I lied about the regret thing. I’m not there yet. Only one thing can get me to that place, and all three of you are required.”

Because nothing calls for regret quite like three brothers sharing the same girl.

“Lacey,” I begin. “You’re asking too much of us. I’m all for a groupie, but not when the other men involved are my brothers.”

Her eyebrows part in sadness. “Why not? It’s not like you’re gonna be touching one another’s?—”

“Woah!” Saint cringes, slamming his hand on the bar. “Let me stop you there, sweetheart, before we venture into incestuous territory.”

“But it’s not incest, it’s?—”

“Never going to happen,” Ryder says.

Bet I can predict what’s gonna come out of his mouth next.

“Choose one, or have none.” He folds his arms over the bar again. “But choose wisely.”