Bones by the Wood Read Online Free PDF Page B

practically purred, drawing out the syllables.
     
    Dizzy had an urge to find out if he could make her purr like that with his cock in her, but she was done sliding everything over the scanner and it was time for him to be getting on with his night.   She shifted the bag closer to the edge of the counter and told him the total cost.  He handed her some bills and grabbed the bag.  She handed him his few dimes of change and he tipped them into the charity jar by the register.
     
    He was about to leave, but he stopped.  “What’s your name, darlin’?”  God bless the lack of name tag that gave him a valid reason to glance at her chest every time he came in, checking if one had appeared.
     
    She regarded him for a moment before she answered.  “Thea.”
     
    “Pretty name.  I’m Dizzy.  Be seein’ you around, darlin’.”  He decided to leave before he did something that would make him late for Church and probably get her sacked.  If she responded at all, he didn’t hear her.
     
    ~o0o~
     
    The Friday night Church meeting was well underway.  The men around the table were still finding their feet in this new charter and their way with each other, but Dizzy could already tell from the vibe that it had the makings of a solid charter.  He’d been living in Texas for almost two months now.  The first of the new patches had arrived two weeks after him, and the rest had trickled in afterwards.  This was only the second full meeting of the table.  Full for now, at least.  There was room for it to grow.  The hangarounds and potential Prospects of the Rabid Dogs MC had disappeared when it had become apparent that someone had taken the club out.  Dizzy didn’t mind; he didn’t want anyone with revenge in the back of their mind within a hundred miles of this place.  It would take a little time to build up the crowd around the club, but Dizzy was hoping that they would spot some suitable Prospect material early on.  It would be good to get some pure blood in the club.
     
    The Priests had taken over the clubhouse that had once belonged to the Rabid Dogs, but they’d decided to almost completely remodel it.  They’d left the exterior as it was, mostly.  The white stucco, red tile and wide arched windows with their ironwork was attractive to Dizzy and practical for the weather and temperatures in this area.  To his mind, the fact that the building was sunk below ground level gave it a cozy feel.  The main changes that they’d made were to add two extensions onto the rectangular building.  On one side the addition now housed a decent–sized Chapel, rather than just one corner of the main room walled-off like an afterthought.  The other now encompassed garage bays on the other side of the building.  Part of that extension had included a large room for gym equipment and a boxing ring.  The aim of the garage was to provide facilities for the members in the short term, but in the long term they were planning to build it up as a legitimate club business and maybe capitalize on some of the good reputation of the Louisiana Priests’ automotive work and motorcycle customizations.
     
    The general air of newness was enhanced by the shiny kuttes that the majority of the men seated at the, as yet un-marked, ruddy Mesquite wood table were wearing.  The leather was not yet worn and scarred, but it would be before long.  Dizzy’s was the only kutte that showed its age, although the rocker on the back bearing the legend “Texas” and the “President” patch over his chest were dazzlingly white compared to ones surrounding them.
     
    Philip ‘Cage’ Carr was in the process of updating the meeting on his efforts to bring all the strip clubs that the Rabid Dogs MC had owned under the management of the Priests.  Dizzy had gotten the ball rolling, and Cage had taken up the baton.
     
    “They’re all on board.  I can’t tell you boys what a nasty piece of work that was havin’ to visit all those