Instead of shifting his gaze, because this sure as fuck wasn’t the first time he’d seen those two swapping spit, Thunder watched as he’d done with Gumby and Screw the other day. Sure, they were hot, sexy, fired up, and all that, but as with G and Screw, there existed an intimacy to their kiss that came from something deeper than mere physical attraction.
An ache pulsed low in Thunder’s gut.
Christ, he needed to take a few dancing jobs, maybe get himself laid, and remember who he was and what kind of life he lived. If he kept on this ridiculous daydreaming path, he’d turn into a romantic sap in no time. He’d end up like his mother, tying himself to someone only to end up with holes in his heart and bitterness in his soul.
Thunder rolled his shoulders. “Yo, Mav, think you can stop trying to crawl down your ol’ lady’s throat so we can get this shit done?”
They pulled apart without so much as a hint of embarrassment. Steph wiped Mav’s mouth with her thumb then gave him a smile that absolutely did not pinch Thunder’s heart. Then, after one final ass grab, Mav was jogging down the stairs.
“Stay safe out there, Thunder,” Steph called out with a wave. “And keep his inked ass in line.”
Thunder nodded and waved back. “You got ink on your ass, too, brother?”
Mav snorted and preceded Thunder out the door. “I got ink everywhere.”
With a laugh, Thunder bumped Mav’s shoulder. “Well, not everywhere, I’m sure.”
Mav stopped walking and pierced Thunder with a mischievous look. “Everywhere.”
No fucking way. “You telling me you inked your junk, brother?”
Walking once again, Mav nodded. “Yep. Wanna see?”
“I kinda do. I’ve never seen one as small as a baby carrot. I’m curious,” he said, straight-faced.
Mav snorted. They reached a pick-up owned by the club, and Mav walked around toward the driver’s side. Yanking it open, he said, “I’d drop trou right now, but we don’t have time. Takes me a good fifteen minutes to pack this python back in my jeans.”
“You fucking wish.” With a laugh, Thunder slid into the passenger seat and removed his cut. Wearing that anywhere near the CDMC clubhouse was like a deer prancing in front of a hunter with a bright red target painted on their fur.
An hour later, they parked on the side of the road about half a mile down from the CDMC’s clubhouse. The old warehouse sat about a mile off the highway. At one point, there had been three or four other businesses in the area, but all were long gone. One of the other buildings had suffered fire damage a few years ago. A few others remained in disrepair. The CDMCs warehouse-turned-clubhouse was set further behind the other buildings. The club put fifteen-foot chain-linked razor wire fencing around the entire perimeter, leaving only one way on and off the property. Most of the property immediately outside the fence consisted of overgrown brush and wooded areas.
The setup worked perfectly for Mav and Thunder, who didn’t need to be on the property, just close enough to get a feel for what was happening, but if they found something worth the risk of scaling the fence, both could manage it. Barbed wire and all.
“Place is fucking hoppin’,” Mav mumbled as they pushed aside branches to see through the fence.
They stood side by side in all black with matching dark skull caps behind two adjacent trees. This vantage point provided a clear view of the entrance to the clubhouse where hordes of thirsty partiers had been flowing in for the past five minutes.
“It is. The investigation sure didn’t hurt their numbers.”
Mav grunted.
“Where’s that side door?” Thunder asked in a low voice. “I wanna lay eyes on it, see if it gets any action. If it’s quiet, maybe we can hop this fucker and get a closer look.”
Though it was dark as fuck in the area around the clubhouse, Thunder could make out the whites of Mav’s eyes. “I don’t know…you up for that climb?”
“Fuck yeah. I’m young and agile, brother. You, on the other hand, might need to wait here on the ground for me.”
“Fucker,” Mav whispered.
Chuckling to himself, Thunder turned his attention back to the entrance.
“Let’s give it a bit until there aren’t so many of these assholes hanging around outside,” Mav said.
They watched in silence as the CDMC’s members and their guests packed the place. Every time a biker in a CDMC cut strolled through his field of vision, Thunder found himself with curled fists and a clenched jaw.
Had that fucker laughed and cheered when he found out the news of Viper’s death?
Had he given Jeremy the grenade that crashed through the window and destroyed the diner?
“You’re fucking tense, man,” Mav said after a few moments.
“Can’t help it. Wondering how many of these fuckers partied when they heard about Viper’s death.” And fantasizing about setting fire to the whole damned compound. Oh, that would be sweet.