Oath Keepers MC:The Collection(2)

By: Sapphire Knight


Christ, it’s a hot Texas day today.

I’m thinking that run up north right now might be a decent idea after all. I only go on the longer runs when they need my strength. I usually help the Club Enforcer, Ares, with his duties. It’s relaxing to weed out the fucks that need to be persuaded, found, killed, et cetera.

I never once stated that I’m a good guy, just that I’ve met worse.

I fucking hate shopping—does anyone actually enjoy this shit? This is why the brothers have their regular fucks go to the store for them. I’m too picky for that though.

I like what I like and don’t need some piece of ass getting whatever she feels like. Men’s body wash—Old Spice Sport, Toothpaste—Aquafresh, Mouthwash—Colgate spearmint, and Garnier hair goop for my faux hawk. Bitches don’t know that shit, and I don’t want any of them to figure it out, either.

I better pick up some grub and Gatorade while I’m here, too. Granola bars, Nutri-Grain bars, Honey Buns, red Gatorade, and some chicken strips for my lunch—check. I make my way up toward the cashiers.

I’m passing by the orange juice when I see the sexiest ass I think I’ve ever seen on a woman. I start to check out the rest of the package. Bitch is straight up bangin’ with long, straight, jet-black hair down her back. She’s got tattoos all over and an hourglass figure.

Baby has some thighs I could seriously imagine wrapped around my face. She’s got the curves you grab onto from behind while you slam into her. She’s tall but still short compared to my own six foot one.

Please have a good face, please have a good face, please.

“Hey, sweet cakes, want me to get that juice for you?”

She’s reaching for the top shelf, but the juice is pushed back too far for her. She turns to face me, and I’m hit with some icy cool-blue irises surrounded by almond-shaped eyes and long, dark lashes.

I swear my dick convulses with need when I finally get to see her face, even if she is scowling. Her expression quickly changes to surprise. There’s only one person I’ve seen with those eyes before.

I blink and she comes into focus. Holy fuck, she’s all grown up. London Layla Traverson, my high school crush.

Boy, she was a sweet one when we were in school. I still remember the only time I ever got to hold her close. Her best friend’s mom had just died, and London was a mess, too. I was so happy I got to have her in my arms, but I don’t know if she even realized it was me that day.

Those beautiful blue eyes blink up at me a few times, and I smirk. You aren’t the only one who’s changed.

“Hey, hot stuff, that’d be great,” she grins, replying sassily and then winks at me.

Oh, sweet cakes, you have no clue what you just did. I’m going to get a taste of you this time around.

I lean in, resting one hand on her hip as I reach past her and grab the juice. I flex my fingers just a touch and am rewarded when I hear her suck in her breath.

That’s right, baby.

Pulling back, I hand over the juice and give her my panty-dropper grin.

It works every time.

“Well, thank you. What a true gentleman.” She hits me back with a little smirk, and I want to lick the dimple popping out to play.

“Baby, there ain’t nothing gentle about me. That I can promise you right now.” I reach out and tuck a piece of her silky, dark locks behind her ear.

She chuckles a little and shakes her head like I just told her something cute. “See ya around, baby.” She says “baby” sarcastically and starts to walk off.

Grrrr. I’m so going to smack that ass when I get her on all fours.

“Wait a sec; you left without asking for my number.”

She glances back and rolls her eyes at me. “Why would I give you my number if you call me ‘baby’? Real original. Clearly, I’m not like every other ‘baby’ out there. I’m colorful, so at least try a little harder next time.” She takes off toward the front to a cash register.

Well fuck. Apparently, she’s grown into a ball buster, too. That’s too bad; she used to be so sweet in school. Then again, the last time I saw her I was in seventh grade. It’s been what, like ten years?

She was a year younger than me, but I used to go to her math class and help some of the students with their assignments and questions they had. She would always smile real sweet and ask me to help her.

I thought she might have had a little crush on me, but I was shy back then. I ended up moving away. Well, my dad went to jail, so I didn’t have a place to live anymore. I guess you call that “moving.”

I check out and head to the bike. I guess I had less shit than London because she comes walking out as I’m stuffing my purchases in my big backpack. She’s parked one row over, and there aren’t many people here yet, so the lot’s pretty empty.