Page 19 of Sweet Revenge for the Bikers

“Why do you get her?” Mad Dog grumbles.

“Because I called it first. You snooze, you lose.”

She drops the little backpack she uses as a purse on the couch and strikes a sassy pose, cue in one hand and the other on her hip. “Boys, there’s enough of me to go around.”

“You sure about that? Things got cut off a little early last night,” Mad Dog points out.

Riptide grins, real fucking smug. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shithead.” I grab a cue from Mad Dog and swing it lazily at him.

He dodges with a laugh.

“Why don’t you break, baby,” Mad Dog says.

Melody looks so fucking good. T-shirt showing off the breasts I want to get my hands on again, and jeans hugging her hips just right. It’s not a shock that she’s fucking beautiful, or that she has a bit of an attitude. The first I knew from the moment I saw her after the race, and the second is a requirement for dealing with assholes like us. What I am surprised by is how much I like seeing her here, in our space. It feels right in spite of what got her here.

If I get my hands on the fuckers who hurt her, it’s going to be a fun time. For me that is.

We all watch as she puts down the white ball and leans over the table. Her hair hangs down, skimming the felt as she pulls the cue back and takes her shot. It’s a good break, balls are sent bouncing in all directions. A solid goes in.

“Solids,” I call.

She nods.

The game goes back and forth. None of us are pool sharks, but it becomes clear very quickly that Melody knows her way around a table. She’s a little rusty, but after a few shots, her technique starts to improve. I can’t have that.

Next time she’s up, I slide in behind her. “Here, let me help.”

“With what? Riptide and I are winning.” Her big brown eyes look up at me. In this light, I can see flecks of blue and green.

“Exactly.” I slide my hands down her arms, cradling her over the pool table. “Just close your eyes and feel the angle.” My “help” sends the white ball bouncing harmlessly off the side.

She twists in my arms. “I could’ve had that sh⁠—”

My kiss cuts her argument off. Melody’s not overly short, maybe five-five, but that still makes her quite a bit shorter than us. I boost her onto the side where it’s easier to get access to her sweet lips.

“That’s cheating,” she gasps when I pull back.

“Honey, look around. Is this where you think you should come to play fair?”

I trace the line of a scrape on her neck, memorizing the small hurt before kissing it. Melody’s head tilts back, giving me better access. She moans as I cup a breast through her shirt. Her cheeks are flushed.

“A—anyone could see.” Her objection sounds a little hollow.

“Is that a no?”

She shakes her head. Perfect.

“Then we gotta be quick.”

I motion to Mad Dog to join me. “Sorry, Rip. Your turn to sit out. Keep watch for us, ‘k?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolls his eyes, but shifts so he can see all the doors into the common area.

The rest of us move to a nearby couch that’s facing away from the room and toward the pool tables. That way if someone does come in, at least we’ll have some cover. Not that I give a shit who sees my dick, but I don’t want Melody exposed any more than she’s comfortable with. A little nervous is fun, too much is just a fucking buzzkill.

“I wanna fuck your thighs,” I growl into her ear as I work open my jeans and push them down far enough to pull out my cock. I’m already half-hard, and a few good tugs do the rest of the job.