Thunder (Hell's Handlers MC #10) - Lilly Atlas Page 0,28

her chest as she went gaga over his ass.

Yeah, he’d had both those fantasies a few seconds ago.

Before he had time to wonder if she was a prude who disapproved of a little skin, a sharp slap to his ass had him straightening. He spun, only to end up in the arms of his dance partner. Without missing a beat, he ground against her in a sensual rhythm that had the crowd going nuts.

Damn, this shit was fun as fuck.

She’d lost her top at some point, dancing in a lace bra that barely contained her massive tits. Now that the men of the club had something to stare at beside him, they were as into this as the ladies.

Hot skin pressed against his back.

Ahh, another horny, drunk chick looking for his cock. Too bad for these girls, it was spoken for that night.

Before long, at least four women had joined him on the bar. He gave them and the crowd what they wanted, lewdly dancing with each of the girls. Hands trailed all over his body, smoothing the perspiration into his skin. At one point, he was pretty sure he felt a tongue lick up his spine, but the combination of alcohol, many hands, and writhing bodies made it difficult to be sure.

At least his arm wasn’t hurting for the moment.

With only twenty seconds left in the song, he turned his back on the crowd, bent over, and let his ass be the grand finale. The music ended, but the cheers continued until he faced the crowd with his hands in the air. Then the noise died down.

“Hey, everybody,” he yelled. “Thanks for being here to celebrate with me. Hope you enjoyed that little show. If you did, find me, and I’ll give you a business card.” He winked as some of his brothers grumbled about hustling for cash.

“Holy shit, you can move,” the ballsy woman who’d hijacked his dance said, batting her lashes his way.

“Thanks, babe. You’ve got some rhythm yourself.” She smiled and shimmied closer, utterly comfortable with her near nudity. Though so was he. Hell, he’d seen more skin than she had on display flashed around since he was five years old. “How about a drink? You must have worked up a thirst.”

“I sure fucking did. I’m gonna hop down, get dressed, then grab something cold. Hold on. I’ll help you get off.”

A sensual smile curved her glossy lips. “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.”

What?

Oh…shit, he must be off his game if he missed that one.

Thunder hopped off the bar, stuffed his legs into his jeans, then feet in his boots. “All right, babe,” he said, straightening. He extended his arms to the woman. “Jump on down.”

She did, making sure to rub her tits all over him as he lowered her to the floor.

With a smile to soften the blow, he said, “Thanks for the dance, but I already got some pussy lined up for tonight.”

Wait for it…

And there it was. Pout central. Why did women do this? Did they somehow think he’d suddenly get hard as steel when their lower lip jutted out? Maybe it was supposed to remind him of getting sucked off?

Whatever. It sure as fuck didn’t work on him.

“Next time?” She asked, a significant whine in her tone.

“You bet.”

Nope.

“See you around, babe.” Before he had the chance to turn away, she grabbed his shoulders, yanked him close, and laid a wet one right on his mouth. He kept his lips shut to avoid her tongue, but the move sure as hell didn’t deter her.

When she pulled back, her blue eyes had darkened to a storm-sea gray. “Bye,” she said, breathless. Then she spun and began searching for her discarded top. If he’d been more of a gentleman, he’d have lent a hand, but his attention had already diverted to his treat for the evening.

Mak stood behind the bar, watching every move he made with a pensive gleam in her eye, and lips pressed thin as though she was studying the behavior of a new species she didn’t understand.

Huh, not exactly the heated, fuck-me-now vibes he’d been shooting for, but not a brush off, either. He could work with neutral. Hell, how long had it been since he’d had to put any effort into getting laid? Shit, had he ever? Could be fun.

“Were you talking about me?” She asked as she tilted her head. Most of the subtle gloss on her mouth had worn off her bottom lip as though she’d been gnawing