“How do you know I’m not right for this job?” I asked indignantly. “You didn’t even interview me!”
The Bonemangler crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway.
He looked over a decade older than me and felt like two full feet taller, his powerful arms covered up and down with oil stains. Each massive black work boot was the size of a small boat.
His worn black leather vest over the dirty T-shirt was covered with different patches on it and up close they seemed very bloodthirsty.
Was he in a motorcycle gang? What had I gotten myself into now?
“What exactly do you think this job entails, ma’am?”
His voice was like taking a pickaxe to some gravel, and something about it made a shiver go all the way down my body to my toes and then up again to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
The Mangler spat expressively into an empty beer can, his eyes narrowed.
“Housekeeping?” I ventured. “Clerical work? Gardening? I’m a very good gardener.”
“No, it meansfucking. The job is freeuse club girl for the Prez.”
His dark eyes bored into mine, one filthy finger tapping his massive bicep.
And to this day I have no idea what possessed me.
There was absolutely nothing in my life heretofore that would have prepared me for being the freeuse club girl for a motorcycle club president.
“All right,” I said.
One shaggy eyebrow raised.
“You know what freeuse means, ma’am? It means you agree to be sexually available 24-7 for me. No matter when I want it. It means when I say drop your pants they have two seconds to get on the ground. Standard fucking club bunny shit. You don’t like it, or anything that happens, you can leave. I don’t want unwilling pussy. Has to be willing and wet or I don’t want it. Got that?”
“Got it.”
The idea of someone wanting me for my body was so droll and unusual that I couldn’t help being curious.
And, even though the Prez was stunningly ugly, there was something about those big oil-stained hands.
It had been a lean year since my divorce and, if I was honest, for several years before, too. But I was still a woman who wanted sex. I had birth control pills. It just always seemed too complex to manage dating as a mom.
But this could be an easy way to fulfill that craving. A grumpy man did not scare me.
What would it be like to service a big, stern MC Prez 24-7?
I was going to find out.
“Do you want me to start right now?”
CHAPTER 3
Polly
The Bonemangler stared at me for a moment, while Mac was trying to unobtrusively sidle back to the front desk.
“You want to fuck me right here?” he asked.
How could his voice bethatdeep? It was the deepest voice I’d ever heard in my life.
“Well, you said whenever you wanted,” I assured him. “I’m ready.”
