OIL AND LEATHER
From her vantage point beside the bar, Katlyn "Kat" Vaughn had the perfect view to watch the newest arrival to their little family.
Perhaps family was the wrong word to describe a motorcycle club, but it was all Kat had ever known. That was good enough for her. Besides, she was the only daughter of the club president, Pete Vaughn--"Leatherback Vaughn" as he became known over the years.
Kat flicked her long auburn hair over her shoulder as she took a long drink from her beer, eyes flicking around the room. She took in the men and women she was surrounded by and had grown up with. Her three brothers sat at a table with their father, drinking and laughing as the rest of the crew got to know the new face.
Antonio "Tony" Saenz just moved to Reno from their El Paso chapter. He moved amongst his new brethren with ease. He fit in with his confident swagger and booming laughter, like every other testosterone-filled engine jockey in the room.
Of course, Kat was no different. Her pride and joy was parked outside along with the rest of the motorcycles. It was a gift from her father for her sixteenth birthday. She had barely even bothered to get her car driver’s license. In fact, she was so happy with her beloved bike that her father actually had to convince her that a car might sometimes provide an added convenience factor.
No, Kat was just as much in love with the grease, rubber, and roaring engines as any man.
He was a bit younger than most of the men in the club. She suspected he was closer to her own age, which was definitely young by the club's ageing standards. As the youngest rider in the Reno club, Kat thought it needed more young blood. She leaned back against the bar, her pert breasts jutting out; yet, hardly anyone spared her a glance. These men all earned the honorary term “uncle.” They raised her as one of their own, after all.
It didn’t mean she was a blushing virgin. Far from it. With so many older brothers and uncles surrounding her, all of them dangerous when push came to shove, Kat learned to be both creative and discreet with her lovers. After all, if some poor guy was beaten to death with a socket wrench, she didn’t want to feel be responsible.
Sometimes, it was suffocating. They always pushed her to the back when things came to a head, they always protected her. She couldn’t blame them; but, that didn’t mean she liked it. As she watched Saenz with hooded eyes, she couldn’t help but think that she'd have at least a small run of freedom with this one. Then, he’d likely become as overbearing as the rest of them.
He certainly didn’t look like he took himself too seriously, she thought. She watched him as he got roped into an arm wrestle with one of her brothers. Maybe things were more easy-going in El Paso, though she doubted that very much.
He was nicely tanned from days spent riding beneath the sun. She watched his biceps flex and strain with an appreciative eye. He spoke briefly when her father introduced him. The drawled twang was “Texan Heartland” through and through. Coal black hair fell just below his ears. It was slightly longer than most of the men’s hair here. Often their Irish sensibilities took over, despite their outlaw status.
Her brother crowed in triumph, as he slammed his opponent’s hand down on the worn tabletop to a chorus of cheers. Kat shook her head, smiling fondly. Poor bastard. Anyone could have told him that her brother never lost. Still, she supposed there were a lot of things he was going to learn now. Things were bound to run differently here, as opposed to in El Paso.
For starters, the weather was probably going to kill him.
She smirked at the thought, even though she had more reasons than most to curse the Arizona sun. Her creamy skin was prone to freckle rather than tan. Kat hated it. She hated anything that she thought made her look cute or girly.
She shifted in her
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