The Ties That Bind 1

by D. A. Young

  Good grief.

  As if the mouth-watering good looks and muscled body weren’t potent enough, he was wreaking havoc on her senses with that sexy voice and raspy laugh. He finally got it together and trained that searing gaze on her once more. Billy felt exposed and vulnerable, even though she was the one holding the weapon. It was a rather disconcerting feeling.

  The steady confident way Billy held the dagger and the determination in her eyes said she knew how to use it and wouldn’t hesitate to do so if tested. By far, she was the sexiest woman Ransom had ever seen. He wanted the weapon-wielding goddess more with every passing second.

  Hands raised in mock surrender and a twinkle in his eyes, Ransom solemnly informed her, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship, Billy.”

  “Billy’s a funny name for a female.”

  She popped her lips in response, and Ransom couldn’t decide what he enjoyed more—her name rolling off his tongue or the way Billy bristled with indignation and arched an imperious eyebrow at him. Her lovely complexion was his new obsession, and Ransom felt like a creeper. His hands itched to peel back her layers of clothing and stroke every inch of her body. He needed to see if her rich brown skin was as satin-smooth as it looked. Ransom was kicking his own ass for not bringing his camera with him. He was dying to turn his lens on the gorgeous stranger. Suddenly, he remembered why he didn’t have the Nikon, and his libido cooled slightly. This morning, he’d been functioning off pure instinct when he left the compound and camera behind. Angela’s safety had been his number-one priority.

  “Because Ransom ranks high on the list of popular boy names?” Billy shot back sarcastically as he got off the bike to stand before her. Somehow, his presence managed to make the vast desert surrounding them shrink in comparison. He smelled like sandalwood, leather, and sunshine. Covertly, Billy inhaled his fragrance and decided she liked it just a little too much. Or at least she thought she was being subtle. Ransom’s astute gaze missed nothing. His knowing smirk confirmed that.

  Busted.

  “Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s a nickname. My real name is Willamina,” she haughtily informed him. “Willamina Stanton.”

  “Now, there’s a mouthful. I suppose we could call you…Willy?” he surmised while Billy snorted. Ransom grimaced and scratched at his scruffy jaw thoughtfully. “Nah, that sounds too much like a dick joke. Don’t worry about it; I’ll think of something.”

  “Watch your mouth, now,” she warned lightly. “We don’t know each other well enough for that nickname business, Ransom. Talk to me when that beard fully grows in.”

  “Sexy, feisty, and a smart-ass? Sounds like a winning trifecta to me.” Billy’s stomach fluttered with apprehension at the underlying hint of something distinctly primal in his laugh. “Come on, fancypants. Let’s get you squared away.”

  His gait was slow and purposeful, like a man on a mission with a touch of gangster swag. Ransom kept his arms slightly removed from his body, and Billy knew it was just in case he had to go for the Glock he’d shown her. The Immortals. That was the name emblazoned in white letters on the back of his leather vest along with the image of a large, half-style helmet-covered skull with a pair of flamed-filled eyes and a macabre grin. The words loyalty, respect, and brotherhood encircled it.

  Interesting.

  “You’re a long way from California,” Ransom called back to her after taking note of her license plates. “What brings you to New Mexico?”

  “Um, I’m just passing through,” Billy replied absentmindedly.

  She was slightly preoccupied with his ass and the way he spectacularly filled out his jeans. Not to mention, the flexing of his forearms. Billy found herself daydreaming about how it would feel to run her fingers through that thick, shiny swath flowing around his shoulders. Or how the waves would feel brushed against her skin. Her core grew damp at the thought of Ransom between her legs, dicking her down. Billy froze, filled with incredulity at the darkly seductive turn her thoughts had taken

  What do you think you’re doing?! her conscience demanded. Calm it down, right now, missy!

  No matter how appealing the biker was, he was off-limits. Billy was here on a mission. There was no time for daydreaming or distractions by the opposite sex. No matter how sexy and fuckable they appeared. Ransom was the kind of temptation that would have her addicted to all things wholly inappropriate if Billy wasn’t careful. She would do well to remember that.

  “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Her voice was laced with doubt as she retracted and pocketed her knife.

  “I don’t have a clue, but isn’t that what makes it an adventure?”

  “Are you shitting me right now? No, that’s what can lead to certifiable death.”

  Her answer made him chuckle. “Sometimes you just gotta live a little, wild thing.”

  “Wild thing and fancypants. Those are real cute and creative adjectives to describe me but don’t really fit, in my opinion. Hey, I’ve got a really good one! Why don’t you just try using plain old Billy?” she suggested helpfully.

  “I would if there was anything plain about you,” he muttered, preoccupied with the disgruntled reptile staring them down.

  The Gila monster hissed a warning as they approached. Billy winced as its black claws clutched at the black Gucci bag’s expensive leather. She could see the faint trail of scratch marks across it and almost passed out.

  “You little asshole! I’m gonna turn you into a fanny-pack!” she hissed back at the reptile. “I bet there’ll even be enough of you left over for a cuff bracelet, too!”

  “Hush, woman! I’m tryna work a little magic! Back up and gimme some space.”

  Heart palpitating at the designer bag’s destruction, Billy did as she was told. Ransom flexed his fingers before feinting to the left, but the disgruntled creature didn’t take the bait. It simply stared back at him with its beady, dead eyes. He tried going to the right but still no luck. The reptile flicked its dark, forked-tongue, tail thumping as its claws dug deeper into the buttery leather, eliciting a distressed whimper from Billy.

  “Can you please dial it back a notch, “Crocodile Dundee”? You’re pissing it off, and it’s making my bag its bitch!” Her escalating octaves were a perfect match to her mounting hysteria.

  Ransom pulled his gun out and aimed it at the creature. “How important is this bag to you? I could shoot it, but I doubt you want blood and guts splattered all over it. Judging by your appearance and your ride, you clearly like the finer things in life, so I know the shit’s expensive.”

  “It’s not just about the labels!” Billy snapped. “It was a graduation present from my mother. She passed away before the big day, and didn’t get a chance to give it to me personally. I didn’t find out about it until her assistant took me out to a celebratory dinner that night and presented it to me.”

  Why had she divulged that info? And to a complete stranger, no less. Just the mere mention of her beloved mother always made Billy want to cry. She wore her grief around her neck like a noose. It tightened or loosened accordingly, depending on the day and memories that assailed her. As predicted, tears pricked the back of her eyelids. She blinked them back furiously and gave herself the lecture Melody would have given if she were here.

  “You were created to do extraordinary things, Billy. You must always rise to the occasion! It’s okay to have a good cry, but just keep in mind that tears may cloud your vision to things on the horizon.”

  Hearing the catch in her sweet voice made Ransom pause. With a sigh, he lowered the gun and crossed back over to her, keeping one eye on the aggravated lizard. He gripped her chin between his thumb and forefinger. They both stilled at the currents of electricity zigzagging between them. Slowly, Ransom tilted her face up to the sun. Fuck! Just as he suspected, her pain-filled eyes were glassy with the sheen of tears.

  “I’m sorry for your loss, Billy.” Although Ransom’s words were sincere, he wished that he could find a better condol
ence to soothe her wounded soul. “Sounds like you were very close. What was she like?”

  She fought the urge to lean into his hand. Billy ignored the way his touch made her brain go haywire, choosing to focus on the comfort it gave her instead. With a wistful smile, she answered his question.

  “How much time do you have? My mom was the bomb, plain and simple! Just cool as hell. I could tell her anything and never had to be scared or worried that she would judge me.”

  His devastating grin weakened her resolve and knees. “I bet your ass got away with murder, fancypants.”

  Her musical laugh had Ransom’s body restless with need and her flowery-strawberry fragrance infused his senses, stirring his blood to a frenzied state.

  “Oh, you’re trippin’ now! Trust and believe, Melody LaShay could be strict when needed. She would crack a belt on my ass with no hesitation. Mom was my voice of reason. She lived her life fiercely and unapologetically and encouraged me to do the same. No adventure was ever too big for her. It was just the two of us, but I was never made to feel that I was missing out. Mom was my best friend. I miss her more with every day that passes,” she softly admitted then pressed her lips shut. tightly Sometimes, sharing the good memories were as painful as struggling with the terrible ones.

  Her crestfallen look was a roundhouse kick to Ransom’s gut. Clearly, today was his day to be a knight in motherfucking shining armor. He found himself wanting to snatch Billy up and let her have the good cry she was attempting to hold in. “Hey, I’m sorry for your loss. I was just giving you shit. No worries, I’ll get your bag back. Let’s just hope PETA isn’t lurking anywhere in the bushes with a camera.”

  Ransom’s hand fell away from her face reluctantly. Instantly, Billy felt bereft from the loss of his touch and its warmth. She watched, waiting as he marched back toward the creature, determination in each step. The reptile hissed again, ts tail whipping side-to-side in warning. Ransom ignored it, drew back his boot, and sent the Gila monster sailing high into the desert. He held up both arms up like a referee, signaling the kick was good while Billy jumped up and down, cheering him on.

  Ransom took a bow before picking up her bag, frowning as he gently wiped and shook it, offering it to her. “There are a couple of scratches but otherwise, it looks good. Here you go. I don’t know shit about this stuff. You be the judge.”

  “Thank you!” Billy ran to him and took it, glowering over the damage. “You have no clue how much this means to me, Ransom.”

  “I’m just thankful I didn’t lose any limbs over it,” he joked, quietly enjoying the way Billy’s pretty smile obscured the sadness from her face. The gesture lit up not just her face, but his day and the morning’s drama was momentarily forgotten.

  “And with that mentality, I’ll just assume you’ve never been to a sample sale on Melrose Avenue,” Billy returned flippantly, trying to downplay her emotional state, not wanting him to delve too deeply into it.

  Oh, boy. Her cheeks ached from cheesing it up big time. She knew it was corny as hell, but Billy couldn’t help it. The biker brought it out in her. Despite the warning labels he was wrapped in, this was the closest she’d felt to her old self in four months. Ransom’s energy was just that dope and contagious. Billy was clinging to that feeling like it was her lifeline. She placed the bag on the trunk and leaned back against it, no longer in a big hurry to leave now that she had what she needed. Despite knowing better, she was overwhelmingly drawn to him.

  Ransom chuckled and flashed her a bemused smile. “No, I can’t say that I have, fancypants. I take it that it gets a little bloodthirsty?”

  “Women will mob your ass to snag their size. I’ve seen them pull guns, knives, and pepper spray to get what they want,” Billy informed him solemnly. “Especially with it being summer. The boutique sales are to die for.”

  Flipping her braids over her shoulders, she hauled herself up to sit on the trunk of the car, using the now damaged purse to avoid the hot metal. Her dark eyes shone with laughter, but Ransom knew she wasn’t kidding.

  “You’re making me question your sanity.”

  “Then I should warn you not to be surprised when it answers you,” Billy quipped. She shrugged nonchalantly when he shook his head amusedly at her. “You gotta stand your ground if you want it bad enough. I’m not opposed to spilling a little blood to get what I want. We all come into this world covered in it; some of us leaving the same way isn’t necessarily a bad thing.”

  “For clothes?” Ransom was fairly certain his incredulous expression said it all. He’d killed men in the name of club business but over a damn dress? Get the fuck outta here! Only article of clothing he’d ever bang for was his cut.

  “I just want you to know that with every sentence that comes out of your mouth, your current level of crazy is reaching nose bleed status.”

  Billy’s laughter was an unrestrained, joyous tune that did crazy things to Ransom. Just when he thought he had himself under control, she had his cock straining to break free like a heat-seeking missile. It was a genuine, innocent laugh that sent her braids flying around her face as she succumbed to pure bliss. There was nothing deliberately seductive about her. She wasn’t trying to reel him in. Billy was simply being her authentic self.

  Transfixed, Ransom couldn’t stop looking at her. The faint perspiration gleaming on her face and neck had him wondering if this was how she’d look after they fucked. He watched a small bead of moisture trickle down the side of her slender neck. Ransom wanted to lick it away and go from there, all over her enchanting brown skin.

  “But I understand where you’re coming from. There’s nothing wrong with going after what you want. I’m a firm believer of that myself.”

  The implication was not lost on Billy. The smoldering way he looked at her and licked his lips caused her nipples to pucker and her body to overheat. Feeling edgy, Billy shifted under the boldness of his gaze. He might as well have caressed her. It had the same effect. No guy had ever stared at her in such an audacious manner. Then again, Billy was used to dealing with boys who fumbled and pawed as they tried to advance around the bases to home plate.

  Ransom was so way out of her league, he bypassed the majors and went straight to the hall of fame.

  She didn’t know how to handle the rush of foreign feelings he was evoking in her. The impulsiveness to do whatever he wanted her to. He made Billy want to throw caution to the wind and get naked for him. With great effort, she broke the trance and reached inside of the front pocket of her shorts. “I’d like to give you something for your time and effort.”

  She didn’t recognize the high, breathy quality of her voice but easily identified the dark, gritty need in Ransom’s when he said, “That’s not necessary. Just tell me you’re not jailbait, Billy. That’s all the payment I’ll need.”

  Billy froze like a deer in headlights, and even Ransom was startled to hear how guttural and possessive he sounded. Oh, fucking well. It couldn’t be helped. He wanted her. She was conjuring up something visceral and unidentifiable in him and for the first time in his life, he felt apprehensive when dealing with the opposite sex. Ransom wasn’t sure that he could control it. There was something vulnerable about Billy that appealed to him. Although she moved effortlessly with grace and sophistication, there was a fragile air of purity about her that was refreshing. Ransom hated the thought of it being tarnished.

  “I’m not jailbait,” Billy managed in a strangled voice. She knew what he was really searching for. She forced herself to sit still under his intense scrutiny and not move toward him like she wanted to. But his pull was stronger than gravity and kryptonite combined.

  Again, waaay out of her league.

  “That’s good to know, fancypants,” Ransom’s blatant relief was evident, making her blush. “That makes all the difference.”

  The sexual tension was thickening to stifling proportions. This was a hazardous game Billy couldn’t afford to play. It was time to part ways. She was astonished by the gut-wrenching disa
ppointment that knifed her. They’d met less than an hour ago, but the thought of never seeing him again depressed the hell out of her.

  “I should probably get going.” Reluctantly, she jumped down from the car and grabbed her purse, mustering up a melancholy grin for him. “This was fun, but I sure hope I don’t have to go through that again. Thanks for being the hero of my day, Ransom.”

  “Wait.”

  He couldn’t let her go. Ransom didn’t know shit about Billy except that everything about her felt right. She had a banging bod, a smile like sunshine, and a mouth made for debauchery. Billy had turned him inside out with a quickness he hadn’t known was possible. Before meeting her, the fucks given about a female could be narrowed down to one person: his mother. Whether Billy knew it or not, they were teetering on the edge of a life-changing adventure. He could feel it in his soul and wanted to know where it took them. The only thing giving Ransom second thoughts was that damned innocence of hers.

  “You said you were having car trouble. What’s wrong with it?”

  Relieved to have an excuse to prolong their interaction, Billy readily answered, “It’s the transmission. It’s been slipping, and I forgot to get it serviced. I figured I’d foot it to Chatham then make towing arrangements with a mechanic.”

  Her breath caught at the devastatingly wicked smile spreading across his face. Unholy satisfaction whorled in the depths of his mossy eyes as he rubbed his large hand over his bearded jaw and considered her. He was up to no good. The realization should have made Billy wary instead of wetter.

  “Today’s your lucky day, fancypants. Lawson’s Automotive is my family’s business.”

  Billy’s eyes drifted to his leather cut then past him to his motorcycle. Ransom could practically hear the wheels spinning as she tried to figure shit out.

  “I see. You’re a biker with a legitimate job? Is that a real thing?” The skepticism in her arresting face implied she found the concept hard to believe.

  “Contrary to popular belief, all bikers aren’t outlaws up to nefarious bullshit,” Ransom smoothly countered, mentally crossing his fingers. There was no way in hell he was telling her what the family’s most profitable gigs were. “But I don’t have time to digress about that. It ain’t important. Let’s go.”