Kinkaid (Bad Boys of Retribution MC Book 2)
Author: Rie Warren
Available: June 2015
I accepted a stiff drink from Rebel-Mae, the funky punk bartender with the glow-in-the-dark pink fauxhawk, forgetting for a moment I was the Grade-A beef in the joint. No sooner than I took my first sip of Jack, women surrounded me, pressing against me, panting all over me.
I couldn’t very well leave the clients out in the cold. I slung an arm around one of them and smiled at another, raising my eyes in a help-me expression across the bar toward Rebel-Mae when something familiar snagged my gaze. I did a double take. Then a triple look.
Then my legs almost collapsed out from under me. My heart went sluggish. My body felt cold. My gaze stopped on none other than Sadie my-mother****ing-best-friend Grace.
Holeeey Shit.
She stared at me with wide unblinking eyes and pink spots on her cheeks.
Everything got real hot, real fast. I hadn’t been this nekkie in front of my best girl since . . . oh yeah . . . never. I was acutely aware of that fact as Sadie’s eyes coasted painstakingly from the top of my head all the way to my toes like she was taking inventory.
My heart returned to its normal rhythm then it decided to go one better and jackhammer in my chest. I returned Sadie’s stare with the same scrutiny. No wonder I hadn’t picked her out in the crowd. Sitting about five feet away from me, she looked like a complete stranger . . . a very sexy stranger.
Sadie usually wore paint-splattered coveralls, torn jeans, and baggy T-shirts with her thick hair braided down her back. Tonight her hair hung loose and straight as a sunbeam. It reminded me of the beach at Isle of Palms—a mixture of white gold and sun-spun brown, little sparks of red filtered in. Soft and silky and silty.
It wasn’t just the hair that blew me away. Sadie had curves all of a sudden. Where the hell had those come from? The killer dress was the same turquoise blue as her eyes and made her irises stand out all the more. The dress? Oh man, it was silk or something, cinched at her waist with a straight skirt that didn’t go low enough on her thighs as far as
I was concerned.Finally—dear Lord—her long willowy legs ended in inappropriately strappy, high heels. Not her standard, sexy Fox Racing Moto-X boots. This was not the regulation Sadie uniform I was used to.
Sadie only glanced away from me when one of her group tapped her on the shoulder. The chicks giggled and whispered, and my worst fears were soon confirmed. It was a bachelorette party.
Yep, one of the babes wore a veil and a white sash that read: Bridezilla! Tall glasses littered the table, and out of each one popped every bride-to-be’s favorite party favor: a plastic penis straw. The women were well lubricated, well on their way to Happyville with a trip to Hangover City in the morning.
Sadie didn’t look happy. Not one bit.
I’d thought her discovering my dirty little secret was the worst of it. I was proven wrong in the next instant when Sadie’s crazed posse pointed at me, chanting, “LAP DANCE! LAP DANCE! LAP DANCE!”
