We all hook arms and head downstairs. The guys are waiting in the living room, with a few beers. They’re all in black, looking like a bunch of sex gods. I watch as Maddox and Krypt’s eyes go lusty as they take in their women. I grin and turn to Mack, whose eyes have gone far beyond lusty. He looks as if he’s going to throw me over his shoulder and say, fuck the girls’ night.

“Honey,” Maddox murmurs, “you’re pregnant. You’re not meant to attract more male attention.”

Santana snorts. “I might be pregnant, but I’m not an old woman.”

“No, you ain’t,” he mutters.

Krypt has his face buried in Ash’s neck, and he’s kissing her. She’s giggling, her cheeks pink, and I can’t help but smile. I’m not paying attention, therefore I don’t notice that Mack has moved closer and curled his arm around my hip. He pulls me close to him and his face drops to my ear. “Before we go in, I’m parkin’ my bike, liftin’ that skirt and fuckin’ you hard and fast.”

I shiver.

“Got me?”

I nod.

“Time to go,” I say breathily, and everyone looks over to me. “What?”

Maddox grins, Krypt gets a knowing look in his eye, and the girls giggle. Yeah, yeah, so they know what’s going down. So what? Mack’s arm stays curled around my hip, and it feels nice, maybe even like it’s not just sex.

“She’s gonna flash every car with that skirt.” Maddox nods at my ass.

Mack’s fingers tighten on my hip. “Not when she’s pressed against me.”

Oh, boy.

“Let’s ride,” Krypt grins.

We all head out the front and I stare at Mack’s bike, realizing I’ve never been on it. I have been on a bike before, but not a shiny, sexy Harley-Davidson with a super-hot biker. He notices I hesitate and turns to me. I get a good, solid look at him now, and my mouth goes dry. He’s wearing a pair of black jeans that fit him perfectly. He’s got a dressier shirt than usual on, which surprises me, but he makes it look so fucking hot. The sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and the top few buttons are undone. Plus, it’s untucked.

Bad boy.

He’s got heavy black boots on, and his jacket is slung over his shoulder. His hair is pulled back with a tie at the base of his neck, and this allows me to see his sculpted jaw, and God, it’s nice. His skin is flawless, so fucking perfect. Even with slight rubble, he looks like a damned god. Like he belongs in a museum.

“You scared?” he asks.

“No,” I whisper.

“Then get on.”

He hands me a helmet and I very, very carefully slide it on. This is why I went with leaving my hair down instead of doing an up-style. I didn’t want it to get too messy. I can fix it like it is. Mack pulls his own helmet on, puts his jacket on, and then climbs on the bike, before ordering me to, “Get on.”

I do as he asks, careful not to flash everyone. When I’m on, I press myself to him, my pussy to his back. God, if he didn’t have a jacket on, he’d be able to feel me. He’d be able to feel how wet I am. My cheeks go pink as I wrap my arms around him, and as if hearing my thoughts, he turns his head slightly and says, “You wet for me?”

Oh, God.

“Yes.”

“Fuck.”

Then he starts the bike and we speed off.

~*~*~*~

He doesn’t fuck me hard on the bike, but that’s because Ash runs over and hauls me off before he can. I notice his irate expression, but he doesn’t stop her. We all enter the big, pounding bar, and I glance around. It’s all wooden, everything from the bar to the booths. It’s shiny, it’s attractive, and it’s classy. There are colored lights coming from the ceiling, and pool tables in the middle of the room.

Booths are spread out around a dance floor, and there’s a DJ in the corner. Mack leans down to my ear and murmurs, “Drink?”

“Vodka,” I yell, unable to take my eyes off the gorgeous bar.

“Come on, let’s get a booth,” Ash says, dragging Santana and I to a large semi-circular booth. We slide in.

“Isn’t this bar awesome?” Santana yells over the music.

“It’s cool!”

There are a group of girls in the booth beside us and I notice Ash watching them, her eyes hard. I see where they’re staring and see that they have their eyes on our bikers. My lips quirk, and I turn to Ash. “Calm down, wildcat.”

She turns to me, but before she can answer the room goes quiet. The DJ announces he’s getting a drink and will be back in five. The music stops and we can hear each other speak. We can also hear the girls in the next booth.

“I’d take the big one,” a blond girl murmurs. “He’s hot.”

“See the other one, though,” a dark-haired woman breathes. “Yummy. I’d like him deep.”

My mouth drops open, Ash growls, and Santana’s eyes flash.

“No way,” a redhead says. “Give me the fucking Indian.”

The fucking Indian?

The. Fucking. Indian?

Oh, hell no.

I stand before I think about it, and charge out of the booth to the sounds of Santana and Ash yelling my name. I walk around to the girls’ booth, put my hands flat on it, and lean down.

“Ah, can we help you?” Blondie asks.

“Those guys you are checking out,” I say in a sing-song voice.

“Oh, the hot ones?” Redhead murmurs.