by Chiah Wilder
“I have to be at work early.”
“I’ll tell Hawk to excuse your tardiness.” He slid his finger lightly up her arm, loving the way her skin pebbled under his touch.
“I really can’t, but I’d love to go to Red Spot Creamery for ice cream. Have you ever been there?” He shook his head. “Oh man, it’s the best ice cream ever.” Her sparkling eyes made him laugh. “No, really, I’m not joking. Hands down, the best I’ve ever tasted.”
“Then we better go so I can try it out. What’s your favorite flavor?”
“They have so many and they’re all homemade. I love their toffee ice cream, but for the summertime they have this awesome orange ice cream with fudge ripples. It’s to die for. But then I love their pistachio with chocolate chunks. They’re all so good.”
Squeezing her close to him, he kissed the top of her head. “Fuck, you keep acting so goddamned cute, and I’m gonna have to fuck you in the back room.”
She drew away after giving him a quick embrace. “Let’s go.”
He followed her to the ice cream shop, a line of people spilling out onto the sidewalk when they arrived. After twenty minutes, they placed their order—orange with fudge ripples for her and strawberry for him—and sat on the white parlor chairs outside.
“Isn’t this the best?” She held her cone close to her mouth, licking away at the melting ice cream.
“It’s good.” I want you licking my cock instead of your fucking cone.
“I’m glad you like it. The strawberries in yours are fresh when they’re in season.”
“Do you have stock in this place?” he joked. Her laugh sounded like tinkling bells and it hit him in the groin. He couldn’t believe he was fighting a hard-on in an ice cream place packed with families and awkward teens on dates. She fuckin’ pulls me in every time I’m near her. How the hell does she do that?
“Maybe you could tell the guys about it. I bet they’d love to try some of the flavors, especially since it’s been such a hot-as-hell summer.”
“I don’t think so.” Like he could really see Banger, Rock, Rags, and the other brothers sitting their asses on the uncomfortable iron chairs licking a cone. Hell, if any of the brothers saw him with his ass there, they’d have a fucking field day with all the teasing. They’d think he was pussy-whipped for sure, but he didn’t give a shit what they’d think. To his surprise, he was having a damn good time with Kimber, and he hadn’t squeezed her tits or ass once. He was enjoying talking with her and hanging out with her, and even though he wanted back into her sweet pussy, he wasn’t thinking about it the whole time. It’d been a long time since he’d enjoyed talking with a woman. The chicks he banged were just there for pleasure—his and theirs—and nothing more. Kimber was different from any other girl he’d ever been out with; she was confident, made him laugh, had a brain, and she captivated the hell out of him.
When they finished their cones, she rose from the chair. “I’ve got to shove off. I have a long-ass day tomorrow with work and school. I had a good time. Thanks.” She smiled warmly as they walked to their bikes.
“Yeah, I got a long day tomorrow too. I’ll follow you. I wanna make sure you get home safely.”
She shook her head. “No, you don’t have to do that.”
“Don’t bother arguing with me because I’m doing it. I don’t give a shit what you say. There’s no fuckin’ way I’m not making sure you get in safely.”
She stared wide-eyed. “Are you serious? How do you think I manage to live when you’re not around? I’ve done perfectly fine without your guard service.”
He leaned against his bike. “If you wanna keep arguing, I got all night, babe. It doesn’t matter to me, but in the end, I’m still following your stubborn ass home.”
Grumbling, she swung her leg over her Harley and started it up, and he followed suit. Soon he was behind her, their bikes rumbling through the neighborhood, and he was enjoying the way her cute ass hugged the seat. Fuck, I got plans for that ass. He also admired the way she handled her bike. In all the years he’d been riding, he’d never met a chick who could ride a bike that was worth anything. Watching her maneuver the chrome machine with such adeptness turned him way the hell on, and by the time he swung into her driveway, his jeans were damn tight.
She came over to him. “Thanks. I did have a nice time.”
“I’m walking you to your front door.” He got off his motorcycle.
“That really isn’t necessary.”
“It’s very necessary,” he breathed as he pulled her in his arms and kissed her hard, swallowing all her protests. She twisted in his arms, but he held her firmly to him, his kiss deepening. Soon she stopped pushing at him and began pulling him closer to her, tangling her arms around his corded neck.
“What the fuck are you doing to me, baby?” he rasped as he ran his hands down her back, resting them under her deliciously rounded, high ass. “Let’s go inside. I know you want it as bad as I do.”
Breathing heavily, she pushed back. “The agreement was just dinner, remember? Now we’re kissing. I don’t want it to go any further.”
He pushed her hair away from her neck and trailed small kisses and nips on it. “Then you shouldn’t be so damn sexy.” He licked and bit the top of her shoulder, making her groan. “And you shouldn’t wear perfume that fuckin’ drives me wild.” She tilted her head back, and he softly dragged his tongue across her throat, then kissed the pulsing hollow between her collarbones. The vibrations of her moans against his lips and tongue burned through him. He led her to her porch. “Open the door, babe.”
She opened her eyes and blinked rapidly, then smiled. “Not tonight.”
“You aren’t feeling it?”
She put her key in the lock. “Of course I am, but I don’t have time for a man right now. I told you that.”
He nodded. “I got time to wait.”
“I’m sure you’ve got other women to take the edge off,” she said in a tight voice.
“I do, but right now I want you.”
She sighed. “I know firsthand how bikers are, and I’ve learned to steer clear of them.” She opened her door.
“I’m not your ex. Don’t condemn all of us because you had a fuckin’ asshole.”
She smiled. “You’re right.” He started to come into the house, but she pushed him back. “The answer is still no. You can’t always get everything you want.”
He placed his hands on each side of her face and kissed her hard. “I always get what I want. Don’t forget it, babe.”
Laughing, she closed the door and switched off the porch light. Throttle stood on the dark porch for several minutes, waiting for his dick to calm down so he could ride more comfortably. He spun around and started walking to his bike when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move in the trees across the street. From habit, his senses heightened as his body went on the defensive. Not sure if it was a raccoon or possum, he walked to the driveway, his ears pricked up.
Bending down, he pretended to check something on his bike; his head was lowered, but his eyes glanced upward. Then he spotted a figure moving behind the cluster of trees. In a flash, Throttle sprinted, and the man took off. The watcher had a head start, but Throttle gained speed and could almost hear the fucker breathing when he tripped on a speedbump that he couldn’t see in the darkness. The asshole avoided it, which told Throttle he knew the area well. Regaining his momentum, he pursued the man, who turned the corner. When Throttle reached the corner, he saw the man jump into an SUV, switch on the engine, and take off just as Throttle slammed his fist on the back window, trying to jump up on the bumper. But he couldn’t. The vehicle disappeared into the night.
“Fuck!” His voice pierced the stillness. Bent over, he breathed heavily, cussing because he could only make out two letters in the dark; the fucker hadn’t turned on his lights. The sonofabitch was staring at Kimber’s house. A bad feeling rose inside him, and he wondered if the fucker was the one he’d read about who’d been breaking in
to women’s houses and doing shit with them and their underwear. A knot formed in the pit of his stomach: What if he hadn’t insisted on following Kimber home? If this fucker was the pervert, he’d just raped a woman not too far from the neighborhood the previous week.
Whether Kimber liked it or not, he was going to put in a security system first thing the following morning. There was no fucking way he was letting anyone hurt or get anywhere near his woman. And she was his woman, whether she liked it or not. He walked back to her house, plopped down on the lawn chair on her porch, and began his watch. He texted one of the prospects and told him to come relieve him at four in the morning. He’d make sure she was covered until the security system could be installed; he’d talk to Hawk about it in the morning.
Folding his arms across his chest, he stared out into the darkness.
Chapter Seventeen
The morning newspaper hit the mat, and Kimber opened the door to retrieve it. The paper and a large glass of orange juice were her morning ritual, and she cherished the pocket of time she had before her hectic day began. Beams of sunlight flooded over the landscape, lighting every blade of grass, and she breathed in the cool air. As the morning progressed, the coolness would melt into the dry heat of summer. To her left she heard a movement and whirled around, yelling out when she spotted a large man crammed into her lawn chair. The man, dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather cut, pushed up to his feet. She dashed inside her house and latched the screen door.
“Get off my porch or I’m going to call the police.”
The man stood in front of her, his large frame shading the sun from her eyes. “Throttle had me watch out for you. I’m a prospect for the Insurgents. See….” He turned around and showed her his prospect patch on the back of his cut.
Her face tightened and she threw him a hard smile. “I don’t need a fucking babysitter. You can tell Throttle that when you see him. I want you off my porch. Now.”
The prospect shifted in place and cleared his throat. “I can’t do that. Throttle’s the only one who can tell me to leave. He said you know the biker ways, so you’d understand.” He glanced away.
She squinted. “I see. I have to make a phone call.” She went to the kitchen and called Throttle.
“It’s good to hear your voice, babe. Fuckin’ great way to start my day.”
“What the hell were you thinking having a watchdog sit on my porch? Do you ever ask? I want him off my porch and far away from me. I mean it. And don’t try and sweet talk me because it won’t fucking work!”
“You finished? Last night, after you went inside, I saw someone checking out your house. He was behind the trees across the street. I ran after him and almost got him, but he got away, the sonofabitch. I wanted to make sure he didn’t come back so I hung out on your porch ‘til about four in the morning, and then I had a prospect relieve me.”
A flush crept across her cheeks as she grimaced. He was making sure she was safe, and she’d expected the worst from him so she flew off the handle. She’d thought he was exerting his cavemen attributes, but he was just looking out for her. “Sorry, I jumped to conclusions.”
“You’ve got a knack for that.”
“Thanks for watching out for me. I had a similar incident last week. It was a guy hiding behind the same trees across the street. He was watching me. It creeped me out big time.”
“Damn! I’m sure it was the same bastard. Fuck, babe, this guy’s up to bad shit. I’m installing a security system, and I don’t want any fuckin’ arguments over it. I already talked to Hawk about it and he’s gonna get his guy. He’s the best.”
“I don’t think the landlord will agree to it.”
“I don’t give a shit if a citizen agrees to it or not. It’s going up. Discussion is fuckin’ over.”
Kimber smiled and wished he were there so she could give him a big kiss. She welcomed the extra sense of security the system would bring. Ever since she’d spotted the guy watching her, she’d felt vulnerable and jumpy. What if Throttle hadn’t followed her home? Shivers ran up her spine when she thought of someone lurking in the shadows, watching her while she was inside her house, believing she was safe.
“I’ll definitely feel better once it’s installed. Thanks. I can’t miss class, so can you arrange for them to come tomorrow? I don’t have any classes, and I know Hawk will let me take the day off.”
“It’s gotta go in today. I don’t trust that motherfucker. I’ll take care of it.”
“But you don’t have the key to the house. I could give a spare to the prospect. What’s his name, anyway?”
“Blade. You can, but I can get in without the key.”
She shook her head while smiling. “Let’s do this the easy way. I’ll give it to Blade.”
“Whatever. I’ll call you later. I got a customer here who’s chewing one of my workers’ ass off. Gotta go.”
“Later.”
She placed her phone down, a warm glow spreading through her. Underneath all Throttle’s gruffness, he’s a real sweetie. And a damn cute one. Whoa, Kimber, be careful. Remember, he’s still a biker. She opened the screen door. “Blade, I spoke with Throttle. Everything’s cool.”
Blade looked away, his eyes riveted on the cluster of trees across the street. She knew he’d never engage in conversation with her. He was a prospect, which meant he did the grunt work for all the members all the time. He was basically a nobody until he received his full patch and colors. “You want a cup of coffee?”
“I brought my own.” He motioned at his backpack without looking at her.
“Okay.” She went back inside to get ready for class.
* * *
“Do you want to come with us to the student center?” Carla, a friend and classmate, asked.
“Not today. I have to talk to Redman about my project, and then I have to go to work. Next time.” Kimber watched as Carla and a group of her classmates chatted and laughed as they walked out of the business building. Hanging by the door, Kimber stood up straight when her professor exited the classroom. “Dr. Redman? Can I talk to you about my project?”
Dr. Redman glanced at his watch, then peered over his reading glasses. “I have thirty minutes before my next class. If that’s not enough time, you can make an appointment.”
“That should be more than enough time,” she replied as she followed him to his office around the corner.
Sitting down on a cushy chair near his desk, she glanced at the degrees hanging on the wall. Damn, I’m thirty years old and just working on an undergraduate degree. Dr. Redman doesn’t look more than ten years older than me, and he already has his PhD. I’ll never get the fuck out of school.
“What seems to be the problem you’re having with your project? Have you identified the business you want to start?”
They spoke about the specifics she needed to have for an effective business plan, as well as hiring people, healthcare, and all the other issues that went into owning a business with employees. As she closed her notebook, she smiled. “Thank you for sorting all this out for me. I’m really enjoying your class. I signed up for your fall Business Ethics class.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be able to teach it. It’s not common knowledge yet, but I’ve been appointed dean of the college, and my position starts in the fall school year. I’m not too sure how it will all work out.”
Disappointment weaved through her; Dr. Redman was one of the best teachers she’d ever had. “Who’ll be teaching the class?”
“I believe it’ll be Dr. Donsky. He’s very good and students seem to like him.”
“I have him for Business Marketing. He’s fine.” The truth was she thought Dr. Donsky was a bit of a letch, the way he’d stare at the women’s legs and chests. He was subtle about it, but she’d caught him checking her out on more than one occasion. He seemed harmless enough, and his kids were pretty cute. One night she actually babysat for them when he and his wife had to attend a school function and their babysitter flaked. She’d needed
the money because Hawk had started her out real slow to see how she’d do.
“I’m a teacher at heart, so I’m hoping I can still teach a class a semester. Do you have any other questions or problems you’d like to go over?”
“No. I’m good.” She gathered her books and ambled to the door, then stopped and swiveled around. “Congratulations on your promotion. The college is lucky to have you at the helm.”
He smiled. “Thank you, Kimber. I look forward to reviewing your project in a few weeks.”
She rushed over to her Harley and threw her books in the saddlebags. She was going to be late; it just seemed like she never had enough time.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said breathlessly as she dashed to the bathroom to change her clothes.
“No worries. Your security system has been installed,” Hawk said.
She stopped and looked at him. “Thank you, but I insist on paying for the installation and the monthly service. You can take my payments out of my check. I want to pay the club back.”
He waved his hand. “Forget about it. Throttle told me what happened. You listen to what he tells you, okay? This fucker doesn’t sound like an average peeping pervert. Watch yourself, and let Throttle take care of you.”
She stiffened. “I don’t need a man to take care of me.”
“Cara used to tell me that too, and I’m gonna tell you what I told her. It’s okay to need a man to help you out, and sometimes it’s fucking necessary—like now for you. Just let Throttle lead on this one.”
“Okay.” She left to change into her uniform. She wasn’t stupid, nor was she a martyr; she would let Throttle help her out because she had no intention of being the Lingerie Bandit’s next victim. She had a gut feeling that was who’d been watching her, and the thought chilled every nerve in her body. She rushed to the bay, cranked up the radio, and shoved back all thoughts of danger to the recesses of her mind.
By the time the shop closed, Kimber was sweaty, greasy, and totally charged. Three of the customers told Hawk that she’d done the best work they’d ever seen on their bikes. Plus, the one Harley she’d customized for an old, burly dude who didn’t trust her near his motorcycle came back to the shop and gave her a case of Coors as a thank you. That fucking made her day.