“Damn prospect.” I chuckle thinking of our newest recruit. He’s only 21 and been a prospect for about 8 months. But he is a solid guy and I know he will make a great addition to Golem Guerillas. “Thank you all for taking care of that for me. I was going to take Priscilla shopping with me tomorrow, but maybe I can bring her to the clubhouse, and she can help me sort through what all you guys bought and figure out what else I need.”
Judah gives me a shit eating grin, “You just wanna bring her by to show her off to the guys.”
“Can you blame me?” I smile, thinking of Priscilla.
“Nah, Eph, she seems great and I know for a fact she comes from good stock.”
“She isn’t cattle!” I choke out.
“No but doesn’t mean you don’t want to breed her.” He wiggles his eyebrows suggestively and I sit down to get a hold of myself.
“The idea might have crossed my mind. But…you know me. I’m in no rush for that.” I shrug off his knowing stare.
“I know, Eph.” He squeezes my shoulder, looking over at my boy again. “You’ve got your hands full with this little guy, no need to overfill them with her perky—”
“Prez.” I growl out and he just laughs at me.
Priscilla 9.
“So…what are we doing today?” I ask calmly, despite the raging butterflies swarming my belly.
Garrett picked me up about 15 minutes ago from my tiny apartment in an SUV and has been quiet since. He is focused on the road, but I am focused on the worn baseball hat that hugs his head, sitting low over his eyes, but leaving a hint of his dark red hair on the sides and back. His beard of several days’ growth, shining like burnished copper in the sunlight of mid-morning. The way the muscles of his arms are only accentuated by the tight restriction of his t-shirt and his well-defined chest moving as he breathes in and out. The way his jeans, weathered over thick thighs, conform and mold to his legs like second skin.
“Maybe he should take them off and his shirt, for the sake of comfort.” I think…except I thought that out loud.
“Well, sweetheart, not while I’m driving, I think it’s frowned upon by the law.”
I blush but power through it. “It wouldn’t be if the law was made up of women with keen eyesight and a few open-minded men.”
“I am more than a piece of meat, Priscilla.” He scolds playfully.
“I can see that. It looks like you’re comprised of several slabs of prime USDA beef.” I giggle, rubbing his arm as his cheeks flame in embarrassment. “Sorry, not sorry, you’re hot.”
“Yeah, you are too. I just possess the decorum to keep it to myself until I don’t have a road to focus on. It’s difficult to drive and navigate with a hard-on.”
I let my eyes slide to the mouth-watering bulge in his pants and nod my head. “I can see how that would be trying, what with that much blood rushing to your groin.”
“To answer your original question, I am taking you to the clubhouse, which is also where I live. My brothers purchased quite a bit for Elead, and I was hoping you would help me sort it and make heads or tails of all the gadgets and do-hickeys.” Garrett flashes a hopeful boyish grin my way.
“I would love to. Plus, I wanna see how accurate the mc romance novels I read are. Should I be prepared for sweet-butts or a house-mouse? Ooh, sleepy men and women recovering from wild naked orgies?”
He coughs and splutters at my question, laughing for a moment. Shaking his head, he says, “We aren’t that kind of MC. I was going to explain it before we got there, but now, I want to see your honest reaction.”
“Ok.” I shrug. “I’m glad to spend the day with you. See your world.” I place my hand over his as he brings it to rest on my thigh.
“It’s our world.” He says adamantly. “At least, I hope it will be.”
“We’ll have to see; I was hoping to have a tussle with a club-whore over the rights to your manhood.”
“You are something else, Priscilla Pipilini.”
“You might find it shocking to know, you aren’t the first to say so.”
We pull up a few minutes later to an exceptionally large building that resembles a hotel. Lots of parking spaces available, filled with a few other vehicles and an open detached garage with several bikes. My hands itch to check out the motorcycles, but I refrain and take Garrett’s hand to help me out of the SUV. Such a gentleman! He’s mine, back off.
“This is your clubhouse? Where is the dilapidated building with rough looking men outside smoking cigarettes and scantily clad women hanging off their arms?”
“Uh. It’s 11:30 a.m. on a Thursday? And again, we aren’t that type of club.” He shakes his head at me and continues to lead the way through the large double doors. Entering what was obviously once a lobby, I see a decked-out bar off to one side, comfortable and clean looking couches and a few tables dot the open floor, and a desk/counter on the opposite wall from the bar. Next to the desk is a solid door, with “Maimonides Mitzvot” written in childlike script.
“What is this place? What do you guys do?” I spin around slowly taking in the ornate décor straight out of the 1950’s.
“Let me introduce you to the guys and then we can sit down and talk over lunch.”
I just nod, gripping his hand tight, as several men come from one of the halls. I immediately recognize Judah and give him a small smile. He is wearing his club kutte vest thing over a
