by Cathryn Cade
Rae nodded emphatically, the helmet bobbing. The last thing she wanted to do was burn herself. Even as her leg passed the pipe on the way to the ground, she could feel the heat radiating from it.
She backed away a few steps and reached up to lift off the helmet. Whew, she was glad to have that off. Holding it in the crook of her arm, she tousled her hair with her fingers and shook her head.
Mac watched her with a smile. He took the helmet, stowed it, and put a hand on the small of her back. "How you doing?" he asked.
How was she doing? A little shaky, trembling in the legs, and if she was not mistaken, her panties were soaked.
"Fine," she said, glad it was dark back there so he couldn't see her blushing.
He chuckled and patted her back. "Good to hear. Some gals now, they get all worked up from the vibrations. But not you, huh?"
Rae could not think of a clever reply to that, so she said nothing.
He chuckled again and led her to a shadowed entrance in the back wall of the hulking, log building.
The glowing sign over the door read ‘Exit Only,’ but Mac opened it with an easy assurance that made her think he'd been this way before, so Rae followed him inside.
They passed through a short hallway with a walk-in freezer on one side and a small cluttered office on the other, then made a sharp left and walked past a kitchen in which two cooks were hustling around, manning the big grill and fryers.
One of the men looked over, saw them, and gave a chin lift to Mac, who lifted a hand in reply as they passed.
They emerged into the main room, a huge space with an open-timbered ceiling, passed a bar crowded with people, and continued on to the tables. The bar area was crowded, people perched at high tops and standing around.
Beyond a low railing, the tables were larger and lower. Most of them were full of people eating and drinking. The smells of fried food and beer mingled with perfume and smoke lingered in the air.
Mac led Rae to a table for two at one side of the room.
"Have a seat," he told her. "Be right back. Gotta go talk to someone at the bar. The barmaid comes, order us some drinks, okay? I'll have a long neck Bud."
Rae nodded and watched curiously as he sauntered away through the tables.
He still wore his black leather jacket, and she noticed he fit right in with the other men clustered around the bar. Although most of them seemed to be wearing black leather vests instead of jackets.
One huge man with a wild cloud of hair that glinted auburn in the bar lights had a name on the back of his vest. Rae peered at it. D-something.
There was an insignia on the vest under the name, but she couldn't see it clearly. The other men with him seem to be wearing the same vest.
Oh, my God. They must be members of one of those motorcycle clubs she'd heard about. Hopefully these were just the kind who liked to get together and ride on the weekends and not criminals like the Bandidos or Hell’s Angels.
Mac approached the group of men and the big redhead turned to him, then grabbed Mac and lifted him right off his feet. Rae gasped. Was this the start of a fight? Mac was only half that guy’s size!
Mac smacked the biker on the head, but she gave a gasp of relief because he was laughing as he did so. One of the other men gestured and the big guy set Mac back on his feet, then patted him on the top of his head.
Mac smacked him on the ass and the big redhead bellowed with laughter. Rae watched in bemusement. Mac had some… interesting friends.
A slim, tough looking barmaid walked by Mac, and he reached out and touched her arm, said something to her with a smile that made her smile back at him. Jealousy reared inside Rae, but then Mac pointed to her and the barmaid turned to look and gave her a nod.
She made her way through the tables and surveyed Rae with interest. "Hey, so you’re Mac's new squeeze, huh? I’m Mona. Ain't he somethin’? What can I getcha to drink?"
Rae blinked at the rapid-fire questions. She settled on the last one as the only one important at the moment. "Hi. I'm Rae, I’ll have a margarita, and Mac a —"
Mona laughed as she dropped two coasters onto the small table. "A long-neck Bud, right? I know what he drinks."
She walked away, stopping at a couple of other tables on her way.
O-kay. Rae sighed to herself, not sure how she felt at the moment. Mac was evidently a guy who got around, with women and bars.
Before long he was heading back through the crowd with that special smile just for her, just like the first night they’d met. The lazy light in his eyes said she was the real reason he was here. Smiling back, Rae forgot about the bikers and all the other people in the place, basking in the sheer pleasure of his undivided attention.
They had their drinks, plus another round, along with a huge plate of nachos and another of hot wings and dip, and then they danced.
Unfortunately, they only got to dance to two songs. The drinks at Stony's were strong, the second song was a slow dance, and once she was in Mac's arms, somehow the exciting motorcycle ride, the alcohol, and his warm embrace shorted out her brain, leaving her with very simple, powerful urges instead of thoughts.
Urges such as 'hold Mac tighter, mm-hmm,' and 'nuzzle Mac's throat and sniff him, mm-hmm,' and finally 'kiss Mac.'
These urges led to him leading her off the dance floor, back through that short hallway, and up a flight of stairs she had not noticed on their way in. Without his supporting arm, she would have tripped, but he held her, half-hauling her up them and along a longer hallway. He opened one door, stopped short, and muttered an apology—Rae couldn't see why or to whom—then opened another door and urged her through it into darkness.
Once inside, he backed her against the door and kissed the living daylights out of her. Deep, wet, dizzying kisses that turned her to melted butter, dripping over his hands and bringing her hot blue praise as he wrestled her boots and pants off.
He unfastened his own, and muttered a curse as he crinkled a condom wrapper open. Then he was lifting her up against the door, and pushing inside her, big and hard and demanding.
He paused, his chest moving like a bellows against her breasts, precisely long enough to ask if she was good.
When she breathed an affirmative, he began to move, pistoning in and out of her with a speed and force that set the door banging and rattling behind her.
Rae hoped hazily that no one could hear the racket, but then Mac did something new, hitting that special spot inside her that only he seemed able to find, and sent pleasure imploding through her pussy and then outward through her body.
She moaned as sheer, naughty ecstasy took her. Mac gave a muffled roar and stiffened in her arms, his thrusts slowing until finally, he leaned against her, panting, his head dropping to her shoulder.
He moved slowly, flexing his groin into hers. "Christ, baby, you are a sweet fuck. So good."
Rae yawned and then winced as a cramp in her thigh penetrated her haze of repletion. "Ow, ow. Let me down."
He did, both of them stumbling for balance as Rae's feet hit the floor again. "You okay?" he asked, holding onto her.
"I'm okay," she said, holding the wall with one hand. "But... where in the heck are we? I can't see."
Mac scraped a hand over the wall, and a light switch clicked. Across the room, a lamp came on, illuminating a saggy bed, a chair, and not much else.
Rae looked around warily then reached for her pants, which lay on the floor. "Why are there bedrooms up here?" she asked, then looked up to see Mac giving her a quizzical smile.
Her eyes widened as comprehension hit. "Oh! For... oh, geez."
"Yeah," he chuckled. "For folks like us, who wanna get frisky."
Rae met his laughing gaze and dipped her head, snickering as she fumbled her panties free of her slacks. "I can't believe I...I mean, we—you know—upstairs, over a bar."
He laughed harder. "Yeah, I do know, ‘cause I'm here with you. You are such a good girl, RaeAnn. Don't know what you're doin' with a guy like me."
Having disposed of the condom somehow, he fastened his jeans. He leaned on the wall and watched her pull her slacks up and fasten them. "Damn, I didn't even get a look at your sweet tits," he said. "You wanna come back to my place, spend the night?"
She thought this over while she finger-combed her hair and checked to make sure her little purse was still hanging over her shoulder.
"I have a better idea," she told him. "My mother left after work to go visit her sister over by Yakima. Why don't you come and spend the night at my place?"
Her heart was pounding, partly with excitement and partly with alarm at her daring. She'd never had a guy spend the night, not with her mother watching the drive like a hawk. But Ellen wouldn't be back until Sunday, so she'd never know—ha!
Mac nodded and bent to give her another kiss before opening the room's door. "I like the way your mind works, baby. Your place it is."
CHAPTER TWELVE
Unfortunately, Mac soon learned his hot night with RaeAnn was about to be cut short.
Rocker was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs, and he did not look happy.
He stopped with one foot on the stairs when he saw them coming down. Ignoring Rae after one swift glance, he looked to Mac. "I was just comin' up to get you. We're ridin' to deal with a situation, and you're with us."
The other Flyers milled behind him, some already headed along the back hallway and out to their bikes. T-Bear, the other Flyer prospect, waited behind Rocker, his freckled face alight with excitement.
A matching excitement flared in Mac's chest. "I'm with you," he agreed instantly.
But when Rae stopped on the last stair to look over at him, eyes wide, he winced. "Uh… sorry, sweetheart, not gonna be able to spend the night after all. And, shit—we need to get you home somehow." Because it wasn’t gonna be on the back of his bike. He couldn’t very well take her along on a ride with the club.
"Call her a taxi," Rocker ordered. "Better yet, let her do it. We need to hit the road."
"All right," Mac agreed. Because as a club prospect, when he was called, he went. Failure to do so meant he likely would not get patched in. And he was nearly there. He wasn't going to fail the brothers now.
He gave Rae a quick hug and pulled out his wallet. "Listen, I'll, uh, call you tomorrow," he said, handing her a twenty. "Use this to get home, yeah? And have one of the bouncers walk you out. Bye, baby."
He grabbed one last kiss from those sweet, pillowy lips of hers and jogged away along the back hallway after the Flyers, T-Bear clomping behind him.
"You know where we're going?" he called to T as they hustled out into the deep shadows of the back lot. The night thundered with Harley motors revving up.
"Rocker took a call from Stick," T yelled back. "Heard something about Paddy's Pool Hall—that's all I know."
Figured. Prospects weren't high enough on the food chain to know details ahead of time.
They'd learn more when they got to Paddy's. Mac had been to the place a time or two on calls with the ambulance, but he’d never hung out there.
It was clear out on East Sprague Avenue, on the east end of the city. Far from the Heights. It was also in an area that had gone downhill in recent years, frequented by prostitutes, drug dealers and the like. A lot of businesses had pulled out, moving farther out in the valley.
Far as he knew, the Flyers hung out at Paddy’s only once in a while—mostly, if they wanted to play pool or foosball. Watching sporting events and drinking or smoking some weed, they could do that at their own clubhouse.
Something was pulling them to Paddy’s tonight. He guessed he and T would find out what when they got there.
Mac fastened up his jacket, threw a leg over his bike, waited for T to do the same, and they followed the brothers around the building and back onto I-2, back into Spokane.
As they flew back along the highway through the night, Mac was grinning to himself with sheer glee. What a night—a fantastic, hot fuck with a sweet blonde, and then getting to ride along on club business. Life was awesome.
As they idled at a stop light in North Spokane, T walked his bike closer and leaned over. "Real pretty little gal you was with at Stony's. You two serious?" He waggled his shaggy brows at Mac and grinned.
Mac's head went back, and he shook it. "Oh, hell no. No, she's... she's a good girl, you know? Just takin' a walk on the wild side. No, we won't last. Not hardly."
He laughed, imagining her reaction to the Flyers’ clubhouse on a Saturday night, full of a bunch of drunk bikers, a brawl going on in one corner while someone else had a sweet butt sucking him off in another.
Tonight, she'd been willing enough to sneak upstairs with him, to the rooms Stony kept for friends like the Flyers. But Mac knew much of RaeAnn's daring had been tequila-fueled, just like when she'd come home with him that first night.
Nah, she might go hot and crazy in private, but a girl like her wouldn't want to witness what went on in plain sight at the Devil's Flyers clubhouse.
Not to mention, she didn't approve of the way he chose to live, didn't like his trailer.
She wasn't for him. He should cut her loose now and consider her another sweet memory.
The Flyers rode south into the city, then east on Sprague, out of downtown into the area where the businesses were smaller, interspersed with empty lots and boarded up buildings. Where all the working windows had bars on them.
Paddy’s was a one-story building that had been added onto, so the old part was brick and mortar and the newer end cheap-looking wood. Set on a corner, the parking lot was in the rear. A pawn shop sat next door and a laundromat across the street off of Sprague.
When the Flyers pulled to a stop in the rear parking lot, Rocker parked his bike nearest to the back doors and beckoned to the brothers to follow him in. He said something to Snake, who nodded and turned to walk back to T-Bear and Mac.
“You two are out here,” he told them. “You keep eyes on the bikes, and one eye on the door. Anything goes south, T-Bear, you come in on the run, got it?”
“What about me?” Mac asked.
Snake gave him a look that said he was an idiot. “You stay out here, keep an eye on the bikes. Want me to repeat that again, prospect?’
Mac flushed and gritted his teeth. “Nope, I got it, Snake.”
Without another word, the biker strode away and into the pool hall.
T looked after him, shaking his head. “Asshole,” he muttered. “No need to be like that.”
Mac blew out a breath and did his best to get over it. “Good to be built like a grizzly, huh?” he jibed, smacking T-Bear on the arm. The big guy was twice his size, made sense the brothers would want him to lend muscle if needed. He’d come pre-loaded with a club handle, as he truly did resemble a big, ginger grizzly.
T-Bear grunted. “Times like this, sure. But when it comes to the ladies… that’d be no. They go for slicks like you, with your pretty smile.”
Mac grinned, remembering his session with RaeAnn. They shared a laugh, then Mac motioned toward the building. “You know what we’re doin’ here?”
T squinted. “Far as I heard from what Bounce and Rocker said, which wasn’t much, the guy who owns this place is a friend of the club. Done Stick a few good turns, so he has a marker to call in.”
Ah, this Mac understood. A favor done was a favor owed.
“Okay,” he said. “Long as we’re not goin’ into the enforcer biz, or some shit like that.”
“Right? That’d be the day. Although, maybe they’d give us some of them fancy shades, like the heavies wear in the movies.” T mimed standing tough with his hands folded, scanning the area.
Mac chuckled. Then he straightened, looking through the back windows of Paddy’s. “Okay, what we got here?”
Inside the place, a trio of young guys dressed in black and red stood in defensive stance before the bar that jutted out i
n a U-shape among the pool and foosball tables. They wore matching red bandannas tied do-rag style on their heads and carried themselves with a cocky stance.
“Look like gang-bangers to me,” T said. “All ‘I’m so bad-ass’ till they meet up with real men.”
Real men like the Flyers. Rocker, Snake, Bouncer, and Toro now faced the gang-bangers.
If there’d been a betting window handy, Mac would’ve slapped his money down without hesitation. The Flyers’ stance said it all. They weren’t looking for trouble, but since it had arrived, they were more than equal to the task.
Behind the bar, an older man watched the confrontation, stooped and thin, but with a pissed-off look on his face and a baseball bat lying on the bar. He must be Paddy. Behind him hovered a couple of younger women, barmaids by their matching green tees, looking scared.
“Wish I could hear what Rocker’s sayin’,” Mac said. “Whatever it was, those gang-bangers don’t like it one bit. Look at their leader, sneering like he could tear the brothers apart with his bare hands, if he wanted to.”
“But he don’t want to right now,” T finished in the whiny voice like a little kid, and they both snickered. “Whoa, they’re on the move.”
The three gangers were strutting toward the front doors on the opposite side of the bar, like it was all their idea to leave, not because they’d just been ousted by the Flyers.
“Well, damn, that didn’t take long,” T said, clearly disappointed. “I kinda wanted to bang some heads.”
“Maybe next time,” Mac said.
He was feeling let down himself. He’d given up a night with RaeAnn for this? And he was pretty damn certain he better not try and call her now and ask to come over… not after basically dumping her at Stony’s.
That wasn’t how ‘nice girls’ operated.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
After she had given Mac hot sex in an upstairs room at Stony's and he'd walked away from her, leaving her to find her own way home, RaeAnn felt as if she'd been blindsided.
And it hurt—not only her ego, but her heart.