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When she arrived at the clubhouse on the back of his bike, a sea of leather-clad men crowded around the front yard, the floodlights bouncing off the chrome of their bikes. She’d never seen such an array of bikes, leather, and denim congregated in one place. Several groups of men shared pulls off bottles of whiskey that were being passed around.

Glad to have Goldie’s arm wrapped around her, she walked toward the entrance, ignoring the men’s lustful looks.

“Remember what I told you about sticking with me. It looks like there’re a lot of bikers from different clubs here. They’re not gonna know you’re with me if you go off on your own. Since you’re not wearing my patch, they’re gonna think you’re here for fucking.”

“I can’t even go to the bathroom without you escorting me? That’s crazy.”

“That’s the way it is. You’re the one who wanted to come. You’re in the biker world now and have to play by its rules or there are dire consequences. You’re glued to me tonight.” He smiled and kissed her gently on the lips. “That’s not a bad thing, is it?” He winked at her and opened the front door.

With her stomach twisting, she stepped into the large room. The heat from all the bodies hit her full-on and the scent of sweat, weed, and booze snarled around her. They pushed their way through the hazy labyrinth of bodies until they reached the bar. Goldie said something to one of the men seated on a barstool. The loud pulse of music made it impossible for her to hear what he’d said, but the man nodded, got up, and walked away. Goldie helped her onto the barstool, then ordered her a Jack and Coke and a double Jack for him. While she waited for her drink, she looked around the room, her eyes now adjusted to the subdued lighting and the smoky veil.

Men in leather vests were everywhere, a lot of them standing in small groups drinking, talking, and smoking weed and cigarettes. The men far outnumbered the women in the room, and most of the women were dressed quite provocatively in their short shorts, barely there tops, skintight dresses, and five-inch stilettos. Hailey’s black jean skirt, white cold-shoulder top, and three-inch wedge sandals made her stick out like a sore thumb. Several of the women smiled at Goldie, then threw her a dirty look as they disappeared in the crowd.

“You have a stripper pole in your clubhouse?” she asked as Goldie handed her the Jack and Coke. The pole, to the left side of the jukebox, gleamed under the red and blue lights.

“Not always, just for tonight. The guys put it up when we have a big party or if they’re in the mood to watch the women strip. A couple of the club girls used to work in strip bars, and you’d be surprised how many citizen women like to take their clothes off in front of a roomful of bikers.”

“So not all the women here tonight are club girls? Are some of them the men’s girlfriends or wives?”

He took a sip of his shot. “Fuck, that’s good stuff. All the women here wanna party with the guys. They’re here for the booze, sex, and drugs. Old ladies aren’t allowed at the club parties.”

“So if a wife wanted to come tonight, she couldn’t?”

“No. Anyway, the old ladies don’t want to come.”

“But what if they did?”

“They couldn’t. It’s one of the rules.”

“Why can’t they come?”

“Some of the guys want to party hard, and they don’t want an old lady cramping their style. Some of the married brothers like to have fun on the side with the club girls or some of the hang-arounds. They don’t want an old lady running back and tellingtheirold lady what they were doing. Besides, we respect the old ladies, and sometimes when a party gets real wild, it can be real raunchy.”

“It sounds very one-sided to me.”

“An MC is a man’s world. That’s the way it is. Remember, you wanted to come even though I warned you how it was.”

“I know. And I’m not judging even though it sounds like I am. I’m just really trying to understand your world.”

Lowering his head, he kissed her deeply. “I know, and I love that you’re doing that.”

“Did you party hard with the women?” The minute the question left her mouth, she wished she could’ve taken it back. She didn’t want him to think she was a petty, jealous woman, but looking at the all the pretty women in their revealing outfits made her a little insecure.

“I’m not gonna lie to you. I love club parties. I love the drinking, the bullshitting, talking about Harleys, and all the fucking. But I haven’t really been into them for the last few months. I was restless as hell for quite a while. Then I saw you at Get Inked, and you’ve been the only one I want to fuck ever since.” He trailed kisses from her collarbone to her earlobe. “Why would I want any other pussy when I’ve got the tastiest and sweetest one around?”

Hailey smiled, but she couldn’t help but wonder how many of the women at the party he’d been with before. She bet it was many of them, and she couldn’t help the stab of jealousy as one buxom redhead blew him a kiss as she walked by, her underbutt wiggling in her super short Daisy Dukes. Even though she knew bikers enjoyed the attention they received from women who wanted to party on the wild side, it still made her feel funny about how easily accessible they were to the men—to Goldie.

Is he going to get bored with me? These women embrace the wild, crazy side of his world. They throw caution to the wind. I’m not like that.

“You want another drink? We’ve got food out back. Do you wanna check it out?” he asked.

“I could use another drink, and I am kind of hungry.” He brushed his lips across hers and leaned over to talk to the bartender.

I’m being silly. Goldie’s here with me. He could be with any of the women in here, but he chose to be with me. And we’ve been hanging together a lot. He’s practically living at the house.

“Ready to go?” He helped her down from the stool and they wound through the droves of people until they went outside. The cool, late summer air felt good after being inside the smoky, stuffy clubhouse. Strings of white lights hung around the tall chain-link fence that surrounded the back of the property. Four bronze tiki torches in each corner of the yard, brought a natural flame ambience to the area. Under a canopy, men swarmed around two large tables loaded with Mexican food. A makeshift bar with skull lights strung around it was on the other side of the yard.

“Who catered the party?” Hailey asked as she spooned some rice onto her plate.