MikeBikes lined up, filling the courtyard of the Predators’ clubhouse. Saturdays were busy with the members who worked off club grounds coming in to relax and shoot the s**t. Women paraded around the lot by their old men who wanted to show off their goods before heading into the bar. Inside we’d find more of the same, but the women would be trolling the lounge for unattached bikers.
Lauri slid off my bike and removed her helmet, looking nonplussed about where we were. I remembered it wasn’t her first time in a club hangout, but f**k, it should have been.
“Think they’ll have bottled water in there?” she asked with a grin, jerking a thumb to the club entrance.
“Don’t drink anything I didn’t hand you personally. Got it?” I gave her ass a smack before I headed toward the clubhouse. I heard
