Riders - The Road To Ruin (I) (2 page)

“Joshua, call me Josh.”

“Oh, can I?” I wasn't sure if my sarcasm was
lost on him, but he did raise an eyebrow,

His eyes continued to roam very openly over
my scantily dressed body.

The bar
uniform
Mickey made us all wear didn't cover too much skin. I hesitated to
call it a uniform. Underwear would have been a more apt
description. It consisted of low cut black satin hotpants,
monogrammed on the back pocket with a silver R, and a stretchy
rhinestone-studded cropped black vest. I'd completed the brief
ensemble with black over the knee socks and my black converse
trainers. With my long blonde hair secured in a high pony tail and
bubblegum pink lipstick, I thought I'd managed to achieve a naughty
cheerleader look, rather than than the intended biker tart.

Mickey had insisted I try on the micro
hotpants at my
interview,
explaining that
I needed to have the right sized ass for the job. He then proceeded
to have a hands on feel of my female assets, to ensure I wasn't
carrying too much padding up top. That had stunned me into enraged
silence, but the heavy slap to the rear shocked the hell out of me.
I'd been unable to keep silent any longer.

“
Do you mind
?” I'd snapped at
him.

“I can't say I do...no...” he sniggered,
dirtily, “when can you start, sweetheart?”

He'd served up his sexual harassment with an
on the spot job offer. And he hadn't even looked at my resume.
Warning bells rang loudly in my ears at that point, but I needed
the job.

Not that Mickey really bothered me that
much; he was just a pain in the ass, and a creepy, dirty jerk-off;
I could handle him. He didn't cause me to lose much sleep.

I smiled at Joshua, briefly, telling myself
sternly that h
e was not as smoking hot as he
seemed and definitely not the most gorgeous guy I'd ever
encountered. But my eyes knew I was lying. They kept straying his
way to get a bigger visual fix.

I was pretty sure Joshua Lyle wouldn't ever
need to pay for extras. He'd get any girl he wanted for free.
Especially here, where his pop owned the bar business that Mickey
managed.

As I looked at Joshua, I couldn't stop the
flashback of the previous weekend.

Somehow, my erotic man fantasy had left my
head, and had become real life flesh and blood.

The minute he'd arrived through the door,
Jessica had nudged me, as I stood in staring adoration.

“Don't ever go there, okay?” she'd whispered
in my ear.

“Why not?” I'd asked, idly fishing for
information. I wasn't intending to go there. I had no problem
looking and fantasizing though.

“He's a heartbreaker through and through.
Christie's been hot on his tail for the past two years...
practically throws herself at him... but she'll never tie him down,
you can tell, he's just not interested in that kind of thing.”

“I'll keep that in mind,” I smiled.

“The Lyles are like royalty round
here...”

She went on to explain who he was, with a
good amount of detail, and I lapped up the words with great
interest.

Joshua and three of the other Rider guys sat
down in a booth, receiving table service.

I'd been looking his way, unable to stop
staring.

As I watched him through the evening, it had
seemed as if all my senses were on high alert, absorbing his
movements, his smile, the sound of his voice and his deep and
filthy laughter.

My man fantasy had lounged lazily in the
booth, swigging his beer and swinging his knee around. His ultra
pale ripped jeans and Guns 'n Roses T shirt hit my spot. As did the
unkempt brown hair and the can't-be-fucked half-laced boots on the
end of his long legs.

He really had made me drool. Sweet heaven,
he was way too hot.

Christie, had been their 'cocktail
waitress', Mickey's tarted-up term for the a beer girl, who waited
on the booths. She'd interrupted my erotic study, delivering
another tray of beer to the guys. By this stage they were well on
the way to drinking themselves stupid.

She'd wrapped her arm around his neck and
given him an enthusiastic kiss on the mouth. He'd pushed her away
good-naturedly, with a pat on her black satin ass.

I hadn't quite believed it when she bobbed
down, and very discretely slipped under the table, maneuvering
between his legs. I had to hand it to him, his facial expression
gave nothing away, as to what was going on. Although he had slammed
his bottle of beer down very hard at one point, just a minute
before Christie re-emerged. As she'd hugged him, before she
wandered off, it had all seemed rather sad. She must have been so
desperate for his attention, to do that kind of thing in the
bar.

But despite that, inexplicably, I'd wanted
to lick his half laced boots for his cool handling of the
situation.

I brought myself out of that heated memory
and picked up a cloth, starting to dry some washed glasses. This
was a constant chore which went on all evening.

“Hey... Tiffany,” I looked up, and his warm
eyes twinkled at me. “Need a ride home?”

“It's okay, I have transport, thank you,” I
refused politely, but I couldn't help but imagine being pressed up
tight against his sexy back on his hot Harley... my arms around his
waist... all that high ranking horsepower vibrating and throbbing
beneath us.

I had my own bike... not a great sex
machine, like his V-Rod... but it got me around in reasonable
style. It was the cheapest way to travel between home, college and
work.

“Maybe another time, huh?” His eyes held
mine as he took a sip of his beer.

“Yeah, thanks for the offer anyway. ”

At that point our conversation ended, as one
of the pole dancers climbed on the bar to a round of loud
cheers.

The volume of music was ramped up and I took
advantage of another short breather.

I gazed around the packed bar. It had a lot
of atmosphere.

It was nicely done out. Tasteful. Which was
quite amazing as Mickey was anything but.

A monochrome color scheme set the tone.
Large framed posters and photographs of Harleys hung on the pale
grey walls, together with a faded out Hell's Angels denim vest and
some shiny bike parts. The glass in the windows had been painted
with some neat biker scenes in silhouette.

I wiped the bar down. The black granite
bar-top looked expensive, and the silver pumps shined with the
regular polish they received.

It was a pretty cool working space, not a
seedy dive bar. From the superficial aspect anyway.

The clientele who stood before me were
mainly twenties to forties guys. I knew a few were bikers, but most
were just ordinary working men who enjoyed a good 'guys' night
out.

And that's what they were about to get.

All eyes were trained upward, as Maggie
started to cast off her clothing. She wrapped herself round the
pole, tossing items at the male audience, to a cacophony of
appreciative and loud whooping sounds.

I had to admit, she was good... real good...
teasing the poor guys to the point of insanity.

I cast a glance at her fabulous red velvet
underwear with its black lace ruffles. It was truly gorgeous.
Riders wasn't a strip club, they always kept their underwear on. As
well as the pole dancers, Mickey hired class acts now and then...
live bands... comedy... singers.

Kelly cleaned her end of the bar as I
finished cleaning mine, working up to Maggie's space.

I'd picked up a lot of tips watching Kelly.
She'd been working here for years and handled the bottles, ice and
glasses like a pro. But that was all I admired about her.

She was a prize bitch.

Kelly sauntered up to me, giving me a
scathing up and down look. She obviously didn't care too much for
my cheerleader look. Neither did I care too much for her fishnets
and thigh-boots.

“You look kinda stupid, honey. Where's your
sense of style, stuck in tenth grade?” I was seething, but kept my
cool.

“I'm diluting the hooker uniform, something
you might want to consider, seriously,” I replied, giving her much
the same look as she'd given me.

“
Oh, now listen to you
... you think
you're
so
much better than me, don't you?”

“I don't know, should I?” But I did think
being a nice girl, who'd only ever slept with one guy in her twenty
years, and studying the law, sat a good shelf higher in life than a
bar hooker.

She stood there, all wild hair and attitude,
glaring at me. Not that I cared. I didn't particularly want to be
friends with prostitutes, especially her. She was the worst kind of
all because she didn't have a nice bone in her body. I could
overlook the tart if she had some kind of heart.

I turned away and loaded the washer with the
dirty glasses, switching it on for a quick wash. Joshua was hugging
the bar, close by my side, watching Maggie fake an orgasm. He had a
very appealing little smile hovering on his lips.

I did my best to ignore his appeal and got
on with my work.

“Hiya babe, how's things?” Kelly asked him,
her eyes doe-like and her lashes batting away like crazy.

“Cool, always cool, Kells, you know me.”

“If there's one thing you ain't, is cool,
Joshua Lyle,” she giggled. “... and
hot
don't come
close.”

He smiled at her, obviously agreeing one
hundred percent, and swigged down a mouthful of beer.

I wondered if he'd ever been with her. I
expect he'd had all the good looking girls in the bar. And she was
good looking, albeit in an obvious way.

A few seconds later, he leaned across the
bar, beckoning for me to come close.

I took in the cool fragrance of biker badass
and the amazing good looks, and felt a heavy stirring of desire. I
tried to beat it back, but it was like a forest fire, spreading out
of control, little embers whipping alight in my brain.

“Wanna know something?”

“I won't know till you tell me.”

“You're beautiful.” He disarmed me with his
words, and his eyes drew me in. A swarm of surprised but thrilled
butterflies invaded my stomach, adding fuel to the fire.

“Oh, well thank you,” I muttered graciously,
with a small but genuine smile.

“I noticed you started here last weekend.
I'd have come over, but I was kinda busy.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” I snorted, smothering a
laugh.

“It was my birthday, y'know?”

“Cool. Get any presents?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Presents? Hell no.
A few drinks from the guys, that's all,”

“Aww, shame, no card, cake and candles?”

He laughed. “I ain't one for any kind of
fuss, I like things simple.” He licked his lips and traced his
finger over my hand as it rested on the bar top. Every part of me
heated up like a torch. I was very annoyed with myself, for
responding so full on to him. He was a man-whore and I was a very
respectable girl for crissakes.

“Yeah, just drinks and a blow-job. What more
do you possibly need for a great birthday, huh?” I slipped my hand
away and gave him two thumbs up, a wink and a click of my
tongue.

His resounding, throaty chuckle and hot grin
fanned my flames.

“I was kinda trashed, I hardly
noticed...”

“Really? You didn't notice? Maybe Christie
should work on her technique. I'll have a word later.”

He slapped the bar with his hand, his
laughter coming from deep inside him. I couldn't help but giggle
and break into a wide smile of my own.

“You're a fun girl. Wanna share a smoke
outside? Let's go talk and get to know each other some more.” His
eyes flared sexily.

That was a definite no-go.

I was sure Joshua Lyle was the kind of guy
who liked to get to know you intimately first and talk after.

“In case you haven't noticed, I'm at
work.”

“I'll have a word with Mickey? Get you my
side of the bar for a while. You can come work on me, personally,”
he smirked.

“No! Don't.” I said panicking. I could quite
easily imagine Mickey forcing me into a situation where I had to do
something I didn't want to, just to keep Charlie Lyle's son
happy.

“What's the problem?” He probed my eyes with
his.

“You are,” I muttered quietly to myself, “No
problem, just busy, you know... now if you don't mind, I have other
customers to talk to and a hundred glasses to dry. You go hang with
your badass gang. They're missing you.” I said, and shooed him away
with my hand. As the words left my lips, and I glanced their way, I
noticed they weren't missing him at all. His hot pal Kicker, who
had an awesome scar on his forehead, was in a tight hip and
lip-lock with Cherry, and the other two; whose names I didn't know,
were being entertained by three girls, all vying for their
attention. There were perfectly manicured hands all over their
shoulders, arms and thighs...trying to get a prime handful of Rider
guy.

He cast a glance over his shoulder and
turned back with a lazy grin.

“They're doing
just
fine.”

“Go join the party. Get some Friday night
action in.”

“Not my scene. Not that kind of guy.”

Based on my intuition, what I heard and
seen, I seriously doubted that was true. But I wanted to hear a
little more of his lies in any case. I put down my dish towel,
giving him my full attention. “So what kind of guy are you? I'm
dying to know.”

He paused for a few seconds grabbing an good
eyeful of my tits and navel.

“What kind of guy am I? Hmmm, let me
think...”

He scratched his chin and rimmed his teeth
with his tongue, sexily. His eyes snagged mine. His penetrating
gaze did things to me, forcing me to stare, unable to look away. My
stomach fluttered and rolled. I couldn't get over his affect on
me.