“Um, there should be at least three more shots.”
“Do we have to finish the poker run?”
Gus grins at me, presses a kiss to my lips, choosing silence rather than answering me. Although the glint in his eye tells me one of us is going to be sick and have to go home, very, very, soon. He cleans himself up quickly, tucking himself back into his jeans, grips my hand and throws the door open, freezing in place.
“Gus!” A smallish blonde man greets us with a familiarity that has me gasping.
“Craig? Craig from the campground?” Gus asks, eyes darting between Craig and his wife who is grinning maniacally.
“Thats me! I always wondered if we’d catch you two again. The ones that got away!” He chuckles. “So, did you two ever dip your toes into the swinging world? And do you want to?” He waves a finger between all four of us and a weird gurgle escapes me.
“Ah, um, no, we didn’t, but um, we’re so sorry, we’re on a poker run at the moment, must go, good to see you, and take care!” Gus mutters out, shoving past Craig and his swinging wife, power walking us through the bar to our friends who grin knowingly at us.
“Not a word,” Gus growls as Wire cackles with glee.
“Was that the man with the huge penis from the campground?” Remy asks, leaning toward me.
“Not. A. Word,” Gus growls again as Remy joins Wire in their cacklefest.
“Happy Valentine's Day, Gus.”
“Happy Valentine’s, Ana.”
Tank
If Mira doesn’t stop wriggling and jumping and dancing around she’s going to hurt herself. I don’t mean that in any type of way other than she’s got her favorite yellow heels on and I know that every time we go out in those things, she has a fall. Every. Damn. Time. And you know what? I can’t blame her for wanting to wear them. They make her ass and legs look fucking phenomenal, which means if I want to ogle my woman, I have to be prepared to catch her when she inevitably gets her heel caught on something. Or someone.
“Aw Tank, this is so exciting! It’s my first poker run and look! We got a-” she squints at the card in front of her, “A king, I think?”
“Babe, you know you have to keep it on the down low.”
“Oh yes! Secret Squirrel.” She zips her lips and then moves to throw away the key, before changing her mind and unlocking and unzipping her lips. “I love you,” she whispers before zipping, locking and throwing the imaginary key over her shoulder.
I huff out a laugh before pressing a kiss to her forehead, a little sigh escaping her. “So, I have a Valentine's gift for you, baby, but you’re going to get it when we get home, OK?”
She eyes me, her gaze bright and bouncing around my face, “Is it a sexy surprise? It is, isn't it? Oh oh, is it a Game of Thrones costume? Like a really big fur coat and some sexy leather boots that you made yourself and I’ll pretend to be all fair maiden-y and you’ll be all viking-y and you’ll try to plunder my castle, and like I’ll totally let you, of course, but it’ll be after I try to protect my good name and my womanly assets from a savage such asyourself but you’ll prove yourself kind and gentle and at some stage you’ll save me from a dangerous wolf and then we’ll have to huddle in the forest and you’ll use your big fur coat as plush bedding to lay me down upon before you make love to me as only a viking can.” Her eyes go all dreamy as she cups her hand over her mouth and lets out a little squeal. And a jog in place to get out some of her excitement.
I stare down at her as I try to do inventory on my minimalist wardrobe trying to remember if at any stage in my life I’ve purchased a Game of Thrones fur coat. I’m broken out of my thoughts by a large hand landing on my shoulder.
“I have one from a comic con Remy and I went to. See me later and I’ll loan it to you.” Wire murmurs, his grip tightening slightly. “Don’t get jizz on it.”
I nod in reply, my woman not even noticing the exchange as she’s too busy taking notes on her bra notepad.
“Take a seat with the Girl Gang, babe. I’ll grab you a drink.”
I watch as she distractedly walks in the direction I pointed her, three steps towards the table of Ol Ladies who seem to be in good spirits. Probably feeling all relaxed after those fucking Craigs List masseuses Chewy hired. My gaze narrows as Rider slips something to my woman, but I figure it’ll be whatever bullshit Rider is up to today. He’s been walking around smirking since we got here, so I know he’s up to something. I just can’t bring myself to wade into it yet as I’d like to get at least the first stop and one drink into me before all hell breaks loose.
Bellying up to the bar, I stand with two of the Tombs brothers, Switch and Marx. “Brothers.”
“Tank. Mira’s looking extra excited today,” Tav smirks before talking a long pull of his beer.
“She’s a romance author, this day is like her version of Christmas,” I reply, eyes on my woman as she peeks at me over her shoulder, eyes wide, cheeks flushed. She quickly facesforward and hunches down a little, before popping up and peeking at me again.
“You know, I get we’re members of an MC, but I still wonder how so many of you came across so many odd women,” Marx muses as he stares at the table of Ol Ladies. And possibly Mira who is acting all sorts of weird.
“Speak for yourself,” Tav scoffs. “My woman is completely normal.” We all turn to stare at him, brows raised. “What? So she -” he glances around before lowering his voice, “unalived a few people. It's not like they didn’t deserve it.” He picks up his beer. “You know what? Fuck you all.” He flounces off toward Pops and Mad Dog but is intercepted by his woman who storms toward him, grips him by the cut and slams him into the wall before fusing her mouth to his.
“Holy shit!” Switch yells as whistles break out around the room.
