Wingman [Woman]

She snorts. “What’s someone like you going to do, tiny?”

My grin gets bigger. “You don’t actually think I need to leave my seat to get you running, do you, princess?”

She crosses her arms, and the other one puts her hand on her hip and glares at me.

“It’s already apparent to me that aside from your lack of intellect that one, you don’t know how to shower, two, you don’t know how to brush your teeth, three, you certainly don’t know how to dress, because my God, there is a fat roll squeezed so tightly in that skirt it’s probably screaming for air, and four the only reason these men fuck you is because they’re too lazy to pull themselves.”

Blondie growls, but her hand slides down to her thigh to run over the piece of skin that really is shoved too tightly into that tiny skirt. “And who are you?”

I put my hand to my chest. “Oh, I’m so sorry. How rude of me. I’m Tia. I am not a whore. I shower – well, except for tonight - brush my teeth, and I like men who aren’t too lazy to wank.”

The men burst out laughing, some of them holding their bellies as they try to regain control.

“Well,” the ginger-haired girl says. “We didn’t ask your opinion. These men will decide if they want us here or not.”

“These men have personal hygiene, and even if they don’t, they are about to learn it because I’m about to lecture them on the dangers of sticking their dicks into trashcans.”

Ginger’s eyes widen and she sniffs loudly, her chin tilted slightly up.

“Now run along, because believe me, if I have to step around this table, there’s goin’ to be fists a-swingin’.”

“Come on Janie,” the blonde says. “We can do better anyway.”

“Oh.” I laugh. “You keep telling yourself that, honey.”

When they’re gone, everyone is still laughing. I stand and take a small bow, before sitting back in my seat, but not before turning to Cade and saying, “You need to teach your boys better hygiene.”

“Think you just did that for them.” He chuckles. “Way to go, little wingman.”

Seems that name has stuck.

I’m totally okay with that.

~*~*~*~

“So, darlin’, tell us why Reign ain’t here and you are,” Jackson says as the night progresses on.

“I thought bikers didn’t gossip?” I say, raising my brows at him.

He winks at me. God, he’s good looking. If I was maybe ten years older I’d be all over him. Though it looked like Serenity was doing a damned good job at it herself.

“He’s our boy, and if our boy is caught up in somethin’, we wanna know.”

“Aw.” I pout, pushing my lip out. Then I say in a cute voice, “Your boy.”

“You’re a real smartass, ain’t ya, precious?” Spike says, giving me a lazy half-grin.

“I was born this way,” I begin, and then finish the sentence off by singing a Miley Cyrus song, “I can’t be tamed . . .”

Laughter breaks out again and Addi announces, “I like her. Maybe we have a boy spare that can give her a place as an old lady.”

“Better not do that,” Cade says. “Reign would have a fuckin’ fit.”

“Oh, he would not,” I protest.

Addi leans in closer. “So who is this Reign?”

“He’s like, fuckin’ smokin’ hot,” Ciara adds, with an enthusiastic nod of her head.

“Hey,” Spike barks. “Calm down, Tomcat.”

She blows him a kiss and turns back to us. “I saw him the other night at the club. Holy shit, woman. Tell me you’ve tapped that.”

“Oh, I tapped it all right. He’ll need therapy after the tapping I gave him.”

Addison laughs and wraps an arm around me. “I’m claiming you. You’re my type of girl.”

Cade rolls his eyes and puts a booted foot up on the chair next to him. “You gonna tell us why you’re in here gettin’ drunk, and why he ain’t?”

“You know why Reign hired me,” I say, shooting back another shot of tequila. “He’s hung up on his ex and he wanted me to make her jealous. We fucked a few times, he picked her. The end. All is fair in love and war.”

Cade raises his brows at me and Serenity pipes up with, “What a jerk-off. Picking her.”

I nod at her. “Right?”

“Did he actually say the words ‘I pick her?’” Cade asks.

I look away sheepishly. “Well, not exactly, but . . .”

“Then how do you know he picked her?”

“He just did.”

“You talk to him about it?”

I glare at him. “Jesus, biker,” I mutter. “No I didn’t talk to him about it. I found out some information about her and told him, she disputed it and he believed her.”

“What information?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “She aborted his baby and told him she miscarried. She’s a lying slut.”

He sits upright. “Then what the fuck are you doin’ backin’ down?”

My mouth drops open. “What do you want me to do? He picked her. He didn’t believe me.”

“He’s our people, and our people don’t get messed around by a fuckin’ whore and her expensive fuckin’ pussy. You sure she said she aborted the baby?”

I hold up my hand, where a fading bruise lays angrily across my knuckles. “I’m sure.”