Read Online Books/Novels:
Jaxon – Heartlands Motorcycle Club
Author/Writer of Book/Novel:
The Ride or Die Bar isn’t much, but it’s the place I made my home.
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“It’s not even midnight and Barbie is getting fucked on the pool table,” Cat says as she comes behind the bar. “It must be a new record.”
I don’t know whether to laugh or shake my head as I look up and see Barbie’s feet hitting the glass light swinging over the table as a huge burly biker plows into her like a jackhammer. She’s screaming loud enough for everyone to hear as the guy’s buddy shoots his ball around her head. His pool ball, not his other balls.
“That girl fell out of the horny tree and hit every branch on the way down,” I say as I watch her in awe. I don’t know how she does that in public.
Cat laughs as she pours a few beers. “She’s definitely one in a million.”
“You mean she’s one who’s had a million,” Roxanne says as she walks over with a tray full of empty bottles.
The huge guy grunts loudly as he finishes and then Barbie gets up, gives him a kiss on the cheek, and saunters over here, looking rosy and satisfied. She’s a little unsteady on her feet as she half-sits/half-falls onto the stool in front of us.
“Is that really necessary to do that in the bar?” Roxanne asks as she loads up her tray with the frosty mugs of beer.
“I’m a Sweettart, okay?” Barbie answers as she starts reapplying her make-up. “That’s what we do. We’re not prudes like you girls. So damn proper all the time. It’s like hanging out with a troupe of Girl Guides.”
I look down at my cut-off jean shorts and black t-shirt with the ripped up sleeves and the knot that shows off my stomach, and can’t help but laugh. I’m working in a biker bar. I’ve never been called ‘proper’ before. Although, Barbie’s idea of proper is a little skewed.
“Besides,” Barbie goes on as she reaches behind the bar and grabs a bottle of beer. “It’s 2020. Enough with the slut-shaming.”
She wanders back to the pool table with her beer as Roxanne shakes her head. “You’d think it was 1982 going by her hairstyle.”
We all giggle as we look at her huge blonde hair with the dark roots. Barbie looks like she just stepped out of a Def Leppard cover album.
The bar starts dying down around two in the morning. There’s only a smattering of about a dozen drunk guys. Even Barbie has gone home.
“Go home,” I tell Cat when I catch her falling asleep at the bar. “I’ll finish up.”
Her bloodshot eyes are half-closed as she looks up at me. “Really? I don’t want to leave you all alone.”
“I’m used to being alone,” I say with a laugh, but it’s like a punch to the chest. “You, on the other hand, have a hot muscular man waiting for you in your fancy new house.”
She smiles dreamily as she thinks about her man, Saint. He’s a real hottie and a cut-wearing member of the Heartlands Motorcycle Club. He just got out of prison and is a great guy, even if he can be a little rough around the edges at times.
“I’ll make up for it tomorrow,” she says with a yawn that shows off her molars. “I promise.”
“Go,” I say as I grab a rag and start wiping down the sticky bar. “Before I change my mind.”
She thanks me again and calls Saint to pick her up. A few minutes later, I see him come in, scoop her up into his arms and carry her out as she closes her eyes, looking happier than I’ve ever been as she snuggles into his chest.
I need a man.
I sigh as I shake my head, turning back to work. Plenty of these men have tried to get in my cut-off jean shorts, but I haven’t let any of them. Ranger has put the word out that I’m off-limits and they better have my permission before they dare to touch me or they’ll have to deal with him. No one has grabbed me since.
Some have tried to get with me, but I’m just not interested. I don’t fit into the usual mold of girls you’d find working in a biker bar. I’m actually a virgin.
I’ve always been attracted to strong alpha men who take what they want and protect what’s theirs. I think that’s why I was drawn to apply here. This place is full of men like that.
But still, none have sparked that interest in me. Maybe I should just be like Barbie…
Who am I kidding? I don’t have it in me.
“I’m closing up, Stella,” the cook T-Bone says as he walks over while wiping his hands on his filthy apron. “Does anyone want anything to eat before I go?”
I look around at the guys left. They’re almost all passed out or sleeping.
“Nah,” I say as I smile at him. “You go on home. Tell Madge I said hi.”