I haven’t known what home feels like in a very long fucking time. Six years to be exact. My home jumped off a goddamn bridge and left me to pick up the shattered pieces of my black heart. I’m still not whole and I sure as shit haven’t moved on from her death. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to move on from it, don’t think I fucking know how to.
“You ridin’?” Axle asks as I reach for another beer. I cut my eyes at him and give him the are you fucking shitting me look. “Damn you’re moody today, motherfucker. You need your dick sucked?”
“Not if you’re the one doin’ the suckin’ asshole,” I snap at him. Axle laughs before coming around the bar.
“What’s up? What the fuck is goin’ on in that head of yours today?”
“What’s not wrong in my head every goddamn day?”
“Good point.”
I shake my head and smirk as he walks away. Popping the top of my beer, I take a long pull before I glance around. I wonder where the hell Ink ran off to. That motherfucker is like a ghost. Here one minute, gone the next. Spotting one of the girls I holler at her, “Hey Ginger, you seen Ink?” She turns her head, flipping her long red hair over her shoulder.
“Nope. He was just here a minute ago. Bastard probably ran off after a piece of ass,” she giggles. I nod my head and glance around once more. I guess he isn’t going with us tonight. I finish off my beer and toss the bottle into the trash as I head out the door.
I need to check in with Joe before I can head out. Joe owns a bar not too far from here. He has a huge ass stock room that he doesn’t use, so we do. We pay him very fucking well for the use of that room to store our shit in until we can distribute it. Joe’s always been good to us and we have the local police in our pocket too, so he won’t get caught during any inspections. I yawn as I step outside and take a deep breath. The sun will be setting soon, and the night life will be coming out. Miami is a damn good place to live.
Chapter 6
Whitley
“What do you want? I don’t have all night for you, pretty boy,” I snap at the little college boy sitting in front of me. He’s done nothing but stare at my tits for the last twenty minutes. I need him to order or get the fuck out.
“Uhhh…”
“You know what?” I ask as I reach across the counter, grab his hands, and pull them up with mine to cover my tits. There! Now, he’s had his handful.
“Now, what can I get you to drink?” I ask as politely as I can at this point. His mouth just hangs open, but he orders a beer with a grin on his face. I take his hands off my tits, spin around giving him a shot of my ass, and grab a beer from the cooler.
I hate his type. Even if he is kinda cute, he still isn’t my type. God that sounded so cliché. I don’t have a type. If it has a dick, I’ll usually ride it. I’m not that picky.
I set his beer on the end of the counter in front of him, when another voice calls out from the other end of the bar. “Hey, can I get what he got?” I flip the man off not bothering to even look and see who said it. I know that I have a few regulars here already. I haven’t worked here long, but the guys seem to love me. What can I say?
“Miss?” someone else hollers. I snort at that. Miss? What kind of shit is that to say? Making my way down the bar, I stop in front of the polite one.
“What can I get for you?” I ask as I lean into the bar with my tits popping out of the top of my shirt. His eyes flick down to them like they all do before he brings them back up to rest on my eyes.
“Do you have Sex on the Beach?” he asks timidly.
“Beaches, back alleys, freeways… I’m not picky,” I tell him with a wink. His face flushes beet red as I pull back to make his drink. Sitting it in front of him, he smiles at me.