Playboy (Royal Bastards MC: Sacramento, CA) Read online

  “Where are your shoes, pretty girl?” I chuckled.

  She dropped her hand from my chest and looked down at her feet.

  Eight of her toes were painted gold, and the big toes were painted red. Different.

  “Leona was in the bathroom, and I saw you pulled up so I bolted out the door before I could get shoes on.”

  I reached out and brushed a finger against the skin of her bare arm. “And the rest of your clothes.”

  Her head snapped up, and she took a step back. “That too.”

  “He’s here!”

  What in the fuck?

  Raelyn spun around and pointed her finger at a chick hanging out the front door. “You promised.”

  The woman held up her hands. “I’ll just finish getting ready.” She stepped back into the house but stood on the other side of the glass screen door.

  “You get a roommate?”

  Raelyn slowly turned back to face me. “Uh, not exactly.” She bit her lip and looked up at me with her icy blue eyes. “Leona works with me and is a level ten stalker.”

  I tipped my head to the side. “You had me and then lost me.”

  Raelyn groaned. “Uh, she’s worked with me for forever. She knows me better than I know myself. I walked into work with a huge smile on my face, and she sniffed on over to my desk to find out why. I said this; she said that. I told her to shut up; she talked about her office B.O.B., and then I told her no, and now, she’s here. Dig me?”

  “Clear as mud, pretty girl.” Not a fucking clue what she was talking about.

  Raelyn dropped her chin to her chest. “She’s coming with us.” She tipped her head back. “I. Am. Sorry.”

  I looked back at the door. Her friend was still standing there. “And why is she coming with us?” I hadn’t even told Raelyn where we were going.

  “Because I told her about Billie Jean, and then you. Then she ranted about well…things, and now she’s coming.”

  “Things?” I asked.

  Her cheeks turned pink. “Uh, things that really don’t need to be repeated.”

  “And who is Bob?” I had no clue where Raelyn worked and had a sliver of jealousy creep in at the name of Bob.

  She shook her head. “Also something that doesn’t need to be repeated.” She pointed to her car. “I can drive us.”

  I looked at her car. There was nothing wrong with it other than it was a car. I didn’t ride in cages often. “We’re taking my bike.”

  She tipped her head to the side and looked toward my bike. “Uh, you really think all three of us are going to fit on there.”

  I pulled my phone out. “No. You’re the only one who’s going to ride with me. Go finish getting dressed.”

  “Are we ditching Leona?” she asked hopefully.

  I shook my head. I fucking wished we could, but I figured just bringing her along would be easier. “She can ride with Mace.”

  Mace had said he didn’t know if he was going to the club, but I had just made up his mind for him.

  “Oh,” Raelyn mumbled. “Is he okay with that?”

  “Leave that to me to worry about.” I nodded to the house. “Get dressed, pretty girl. Fifteen minutes.”

  “Uh, okay.” She sprinted back to the front door. “You’re sure you’re okay with this?” she called when she was halfway.

  I wasn’t entirely okay with it, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. If anything, it would give Mace a little entertainment for the night and I would have Raelyn to myself. “It’s fine,” I reassured her.

  She raised her hand in the air and slipped back into the house.

  I connected the call to Mace and leaned against Raelyn’s car.

  “What’s up, ballbag?” Mace called into the phone.

  “Need some help.”

  “What the hell do you need help with?” he chuckled. “You said you were picking something up and heading to the club.”

  “Yeah,” I sighed. “Turns out, I’m picking up two things and I don’t have room for both.”

  “What in the fuck are you doing?”

  “Just fucking get here.” I rattled off Raelyn’s address and ended the call.

  This was what I got for actually helping someone. I pulled out a cigarette and shoved it in my mouth. I had been half thinking if things went well at the club with Raelyn tonight, we could head back to her house and start working on the other part of our agreement. With her friend tagging along, and now Mace coming, things weren’t going the way I planned at all.

  Ten minutes later, after I smoked three cigarettes, I heard loud pipes in the distance. About thirty seconds later, Mace pulled into the driveway.

  He parked next to my bike and shut it off. “What in the fuck are you doing in this part of town?” he hollered.

  I rolled my eyes and dropped my cigarette on the driveway. I ground it out with my toe and moved toward Mace. “You think you could keep your fucking voice down?” I was sure Raelyn’s neighbors were already wondering what the hell was going on over here with my bike being parked on the street most of last night.

  “Bro, do you see where we’re parked? Unless this is your fucking grandma’s house, I don’t know what the hell you think you’re picking up here.”

  “Oh, my God. They’re multiplying.”

  Mace looked over my shoulder and pulled his sunglasses off his face. “Well, shit,” he mumbled.

  I turned to the sound of Raelyn’s friend. She was talking, but I was looking at Raelyn.

  She looked nothing like she had ten minutes ago.

  Her silky hair was down in waves around her shoulders; her lips were painted a light pink, and her eyes had a dusting of peach on them which was only enhanced by the dark frames of her glasses.

  She was wearing the same jeans she had been before, but now, she had on a black shirt that hung off one shoulder over the tank top. Her bare feet were gone and covered with black heeled boots. She was dressed simple, but she was without a doubt the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on.

  Her friend was definitely a looker, but she was nothing compared to Raelyn.

  “This what you needed help picking up?” Mace asked.

  I glanced over my shoulder and nodded.

  “Do I get to call dibs on one?”

  I curtly shook my head. “You get the blonde.”

  Mace shrugged. “Not my first choice, but I’m willing to adapt. Surprised to see your tastes have changed, though.”

  Raelyn’s friend was my typical type, but she wasn’t doing anything for me. Raelyn was the only chick I wanted right now.

  “Uh, everything okay?” Raelyn called.

  “How is everything not okay with these two handsome men in our presence?” Her friend extended her hand to me. “I’m Leona. Raelyn was kind enough to invite me along for our little excursion tonight.”

  “Invite?” Raelyn scoffed. “Pretty sure I told you no four times, if not more.”

  Leona flitted her hand at Raelyn. “Details, babe.”

  I hitched my thumb over my shoulder toward Mace. “That’s Mace. He’s your ride for the night, Leona.”

  Leona batted her eyes at Mace. “Charmed to meet you.” She strutted over to him and laid her hand on his shoulder as she threw her leg over the bike.

  “Are you sure this is okay?” Raelyn asked me softly. “If you don’t want both of us coming with you, we can just stay home.”

  “We’re good, pretty girl.” We were. Not exactly what I wanted for tonight, but it was going to be fine. Mace obviously knew I was interested in Raelyn and would keep Leona busy the whole night. “Let’s go.”

  She followed me over to my bike and waited while I climbed on. “Been on a bike before?” I asked.

  She nodded. “I used to drive a dirt bike in high school.”

  “Dirt bike?” I asked, amazed. I did not expect her to say that. I figured she hadn’t ever been on a bike before.

  “Yeah. It was the only thing I could afford.” She got on behind me without hesitation and res
ted her arms around my waist.

  “You lock up?”

  “Yup.”

  I cranked up the bike and backed around.

  “Club?” Mace called over the roar of our engines.

  “Yeah,” I called.

  I headed in the direction of the club with Raelyn at my back and Mace following behind with Leona.

  Time to figure out where the fuck Billie Jean was.

  *

  Chapter Seven

  Raelyn

  Try to keep your mouth shut…

  I had been on a bike before, but it had been almost eight years. As soon as I had graduated from high school, I had traded in my dirt bike and gotten an actual car. In that time, I had forgotten how freeing it was to be on a motorcycle. Add in the fact I was wrapped around Playboy and it was even better.

  Fifteen minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of Skinz and parked in the front row

  “Perks of owning the place?” I asked when Playboy turned off the bike.

  “Definitely, pretty girl.”

  “Looks like 'cuda and Monk are here,” Mace called.

  “Who is 'cuda?” Raelyn asked.

  “Prez and Monk is our VP,” I answered.

  I slid off the bike and stood off to the side. “Is it bad that they’re here?” she asked.

  Playboy shook his head. “Nah. Pretty typical for most of the club to be here. 'cuda and Monk tend to move in tandem, though.”

  Yeah, no idea what that meant. “They don’t know anything about Billie Jean?”

  Playboy shook his head and got off the bike. “Haven’t heard anything.”

  That sucked.

  Mace and Leona had parked next to us, and it looked like they had snuggled up pretty closely. Maybe Leona was going to end her drought of a love life tonight.

  Playboy grabbed my hand. “Stay with me in the club, yeah?”

  I tried to focus on his words and not the feel of his hand wrapped around mine. I tipped my head back and nodded. “Okay.”

  “I mean it, Raelyn. You gotta go to the bathroom, you tell me and I’ll take you, okay.”

  That seemed a bit drastic, but this was Playboy’s world. I was just living in it until I figured out where Billie Jean had disappeared to. “Got it. You and I are stuck together like glue.” Gah. Here I thought maybe I had stopped saying stupid things in front of Playboy.

  Yeah. Not so much.

  “I can pee alone, yeah?” Leona asked.

  Mace slid his sunglasses on top of his head. “Do whatever you want, doll.”

  Playboy led us into the club, and I trailed behind him with my hand in his. Walking into the club this time was way different than the last time.

  I didn’t have to stand in line. I didn’t have to show them my ID.

  Everyone seemed to stare at us, though. I scooted closer to Playboy as we wove through the crowd and tables. He glanced over his shoulder at me and gave a nod. “Stay close.”

  I could totally do that.

  Hell, I liked that.

  “Drinks,” Mace called. He split off from us with Leona in tow.

  I had the urge to grab her hand and keep her with me, but she seemed to be more in her element than I was. Leona was definitely more outgoing and fit in here.

  She had tried to make me dress up a bit, and while I didn’t wear my typical sweatshirt, I still looked pretty much like I always did.

  Leona, on the other hand, had black, skintight pants encasing her ass, a red cropped top with bell sleeves over her ample chest, and silver booties on her feet. Her blond hair was piled on top of her head, and it didn’t look like the wind on the ride over had messed it up at all.

  I knew for a fact that my curled hair looked like a rat’s nest on my head. This was why no one ever looked my way. The art of looking good was completely lost on me.

  Playboy led us to the other side of the club to a cluster of roped off tables where only a couple of guys were seated.

  They were both wearing cuts, and I assumed they were Barracuda and Monk.

  Meeting the president of the Royal Bastards was not what I thought we would be doing tonight. Playboy pulled out one of the chairs at the table and motioned for me to sit down.

  Yeah, sitting with the president of an MC was something I did all of the time. I nervously sat down, and Playboy dropped into the chair next to me.

  Both men stared at me.

  I sat there frozen like a deer caught in the headlights of a huge semi barreling down on it.

  I lifted my hand and gave a wave.

  Yeah, I waved.

  If God didn’t strike me down right then and there from embarrassment then there wasn’t a God.

  Playboy chuckled and rested his arm around my shoulders. He leaned close, and his lips brushed my ear. “Relax, pretty girl. They don’t bite.”

  Easier said than done. And, it looked like both of them bit. Hard.

  “New blood?” the guy to the left asked.

  “Billie Jean’s sister, Monk.” Playboy replied.

  That helped. Now I at least knew who was who.

  “Is she still missing?” the one who must have been Barracuda asked.

  I nodded. “I haven’t heard from her for a week.” I didn’t know if I was supposed to speak, but I did.

  “You sure she didn’t take a breather for a minute?” Monk asked.

  I nodded again. “Yeah. Billie Jean wouldn’t leave town without giving me a heads up. I talked to her before she came to work, and then, I didn’t hear from her again.”

  Playboy relaxed next to me and kept his arm around me. “Figured I’d talk to the girls tonight and see if I can find anything out.”

  Barracuda nodded. “Good place to start.” There was an arrogant air about Barracuda. His words were simple enough, but he seemed to be giving Playboy permission to talk to the girls.

  Leona sat down next to me with a drink in her hand. “Did you see the shoes the waitress with the red hair was wearing?”

  “Uh,” I mumbled. I hadn’t really looked at anything as Playboy and I walked through the club. I had been in shock at the fact that he was holding my hand. “I’ll have to keep an eye out for her.”

  Leona nodded. “Girl, they are hot.” She smiled wide. “Not that I expected a waitress at a strip club to wear Crocs or something.”

  “Doll, you think you could have grabbed one of these drinks?” Mace grumbled. He set a drink in front of me and sloshed some of it on the table. He sat next to Playboy and did not seem amused with Leona.

  Leona leaned toward me and lowered her voice. “I pissed him off,” she whispered. “I wasn’t paying attention to him walking in front of me and barreled right into him when he stopped at the bar.”

  “What were you looking at?” I hissed back.

  Leona cringed. “The redhead’s shoes.”

  “You’re a mess, Leona,” I laughed. “I’m the one supposed to be making a fool of themselves, not you.”

  “Well, I guess it’s finally my turn.”

  I took a sip of my drink. “Well, I gave a princess wave to the president and VP of the Royal Bastards. Maybe we’re both destined to make fools of ourselves tonight.”

  Leona cringed. “Is that who those two are?”

  I nodded.

  “I’m gonna try to keep my mouth shut. Maybe we both should.”

  That sounded like a damn good idea. I just hoped that both of us could stick to it.

  “Billie Jean was close with Raine and Violet. Start there,” Barracuda instructed.

  Playboy nodded.

  Was it just Playboy helping me, or was the whole club helping me? “Uh, I talked to Raine last week but not Violet. Raine said she didn’t know anything about Billie Jean. She figured she was home sick or something when she didn’t show up for her shifts.”

  “But she showed up Tuesday night, right?” Playboy asked.

  I nodded. “She worked last Tuesday with Billie Jean. She said Billie Jean was her normal self.”

  “Sassy and
full of it?” Mace laughed.

  That was pretty accurate. “Yeah. That’s Billie Jean to a T.”

  “This a class field trip or something?” Monk asked. He looked from Leona to me.

  Playboy might be fine with Leona tagging along to help figure out where Billie Jean was, but Monk obviously didn’t think it was necessary.

  “How many people know Billie Jean is missing?” Barracuda asked.

  “Uh, well.” I counted the people who knew in my head. It was a short list. “Playboy and Leona are the only ones I told.”

  “And the people you talked to last week at the club,” Playboy pointed out.

  “Well, I didn’t exactly tell them she was missing, though. I just asked if they had seen her.” I guess even asking if they had seen her was hinting to the fact she was missing.

  “There’s buzz she’s missing. Mitzy was telling me earlier the girls were kind of paranoid wondering if something was going on.” Barracuda shrugged. “As of right now, I told her nothing was going on and to treat everything like business as usual.”

  “Mitzy?” Leona muttered to me.

  I shrugged. “No clue.”

  “You think that’s his old lady?”

  “Ol’,” I hissed. “Old lady is like your grandma.”

  Playboy’s eyes cut to me.

  I plastered a smile on my lips. “Shut. Up,” I grunted to Leona. What happened to keeping her mouth shut? I didn’t care if Mitzy was Barracuda’s ol’ lady. If she had any info about Billie Jean, I wanted to talk to her. “Maybe we should talk to Mitzy, too.”

  “Have Playboy do the talking,” Monk instructed. “The girls know to keep their mouths shut if they’re talking to someone they don’t know.”

  “Oh.” Well, what was the point of me being here then?

  A woman dressed in black tight pants and a skimpy white tank top walked up to our table and leaned toward Barracuda. Their voices were low, and I couldn’t make out a word they said.

  Leona leaned toward them. “I used to be able to read lips,” she muttered.

  Dear God. Did she not know how to be less obvious? “Stop it,” I hissed.

  “There’s a bear at the bar, and he left his lettuce in the safe.”

  Playboy choked on his beer, and I slapped my hand over my face.