RUSH (A Stone Kings Motorcycle Club Romance) by Daphne Loveling Read Free Book Online

“Mine, too. Hey, prospects!” he bellowed. Frankenstein looked up from the table, cue stick in hand. Cal momentarily stopped feeling up the club whore. “Go grab some buckets. Time to wash the club’s bikes.”
    Frankenstein simply nodded, put away the stick and walked off toward the garage.  Cal seemed a little less thrilled by the idea, but he gave one of Tawny’s tits a final squeeze, slapped her on the ass as she got up, and made his way over to us with a swagger.
    “Sure thing, Winger,” he grinned. “Where you want us to start?”
    We turned and walked out toward the parking lot, Cal following at a close clip.
    “You’ll start with the prez’s bike, over there,” Winger said, pointing to my Dyna Super Glide.
    Cal’s eyes grew wide as he looked over at it. “Okay,” he said, suddenly turning serious. I chuckled to myself. At that age, I would have had stars in my eyes looking at that bike, too.  Hell, I still felt a surge of love and pride every time I got on the thing.
    “And don’t fuck it up,” I growled, pointing a finger him. “I see one scratch on that thing when you’re done, and you’re dead meat.”
    Cal nodded, his cocky grin disappearing. “Sure thing, sir.  I promise, you won’t recognize it when I’m done.”
    “I better fucking recognize it,” I spat.
    “No, I meant—“
    “Yeah, I got it,” I cut him off.  “Just fuckin’ with you. Just shut up and wash my bike.”
    Cal broke into a raucous laugh, but then cut it off abruptly.  “Seriously, though, sir. I won’t let you down.” He looked back over at my bike admiringly. “I’ve always wanted a bike like yours.”
    “Yeah, yeah.” I stood there for a moment, and cocked my head as I gave him a good stare. Generally speaking, I didn’t have much use for prospects until they’d proven themselves, but I was curious about this one in spite of myself. “You got yourself a bike yet?” I barked at him.
    He nodded. “That one over there,” he pointed to the far end of the parking lot.  “Just got her a couple days ago,” he added with pride.
    I looked over at an ancient Fat Boy that he indicated. Stifling a grin, I said, “That right?”
    “Yeah. I mean,” he added, “It needs some work, and everything. But I’ll get her runnin’ like a top. She’s got great bones.”
    “Looks to me like she’s pretty big for a little shit like you.”
    “No, no, I can handle her just fine!” Unconsciously, Cal drew himself up to his full six feet. 
    I nodded soberly, suppressing the grin that was tugging at my mouth.  “Good to hear it.” Changing the subject, I took a couple of steps closer to him. “There was an old Mazda beater in the bar parking lot earlier today.  A girl came to get it. Said you’d left it there for her.”
    “Yeah, that’s my sister, Seton.” he replied. “I borrowed her car last night for that run Winger sent us on.”
    “How come she came here to get it?” I asked, frowning.
    He shrugged. “I was supposed to pick her up after she got off work last night — she bartends at the Cactus downtown — but the run went later than we thought, so I told her to pick it up here.”
    I frowned. “You took her car and you were supposed to pick her up, but you made her come all the way out here to get it? How’d she get here?”
    Cal colored. “I, uh, dunno. I guess probably one of her friends drove her here.”
    A sudden wave of rage coursed through me, and I barely resisted the sudden urge to beat the shit out of the little punk.  “That’s a fucking shitty thing to do to your sister, Prospect. To any woman.  This place isn’t exactly the right side of the tracks.”
    “I’m sorry—“ he began, but I cut him off.  A few feet away, Winger cocked his head and looked at me with curiosity.
    “You do not treat family that way.”  I growled, my voice rising with my anger. “You got that? You don’t treat family that way. Ever.” I took another step toward Cal, making sure he was