I move to the bed, picking up the items. There’s a skimpy black tank with an RBMC support logo on the front and a similar pair of black panties. There’s also a pair of soft shorts made of fleece. Across the ass it readsProperty of RBMC.
I arch a brow. “Oh, really?”
Keno grins and lifts a chin. “Put ‘em on.”
I shimmy into them, pull his shirt off, and shimmy on the tight tank top. It hugs my breasts, revealing my hard nipples.
“Fucking gorgeous.”
I slip into my strappy heels.
“Hell, I’m tempted to strip you naked again.” Keno comes toward me, catching me around the waist, the heat in his eyes warning me it’s still a possibility he’ll do exactly that.
I push on his chest. “No way. I want that bacon you promised.”
“Fine.” He throws on his shirt and cut and then takes my hand. “Come on, pretty girl.”
When we come out into the main room, a long table has been set up and people are eating. Several of the women are carrying platters of food in from another room in the back, where the kitchen must be.
Keno tugs my hand, and we find two open chairs.
“Cute outfit,” Shack says to me with a grin from across the table.
“Eyes on your plate, brother,” Keno snaps, and Shack laughs.
“And here I thought you’d be in a fantastic mood this morning.”
“I am. Just keep your eyes off my girl.”
His girl. He called me his girl. It’s a small gesture and probably doesn’t mean what I hope it does, but he just said it in front of all his club brothers.
“Yes, sir,” Shack says, with two fingers to his brow.
Lola carries out a platter, then takes the empty seat next to me. The man on her other side must be her ol’ man, because she leans and kisses him. I hear her murmur about them needing to get back to their kids soon and wonder how many she has.
She turns to me. “We’re still on for lunch later, right?”
“Sure, if I can,” I say around a mouthful of scrambled eggs.
She grins and looks over my head to Keno. “Make sure she can, Keno.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Memphis takes a strip of bacon off a platter and passes it down to us, then meets Keno’s eyes.
“Rock’s coming by later to talk to you. Something about Texas.”
I frown and glance at Keno, wondering what’s in Texas. My stomach drops at the thought that he might be leaving town sooner than I’d even expected.
“Thanks,” Keno mutters, but says nothing to me.
We finish our meal, and the men cut some jokes about Keno decking an Iron Death member last night.
I don’t know why, but they seem to think it's hilarious.
Keno doesn’t laugh, just cuts a look to me, then keeps on eating.
After everyone is finished, I join the women, clearing plates, and follow them to the kitchen.