by April Lust
“She’s a helper,” Ethan said admiringly.
“She’s a shit stirrer,” William said shaking his head even though his tone was affectionate. “What happened to...what was her name?”
“Brittany?”
“No.”
“Rachel?”
“No.”
“Carey?”
“No...”
Ethan looked blank. William shook his head and sighed. “You’re gonna wear it out, kid.”
“Kelly!” Ethan said suddenly.
William snapped his fingers and then pointed at Ethan. “That’s the one. I liked her.”
“She moved out to L.A. a few months back. Wanted to be an actress. Or a model.” Ethan shrugged. “I can’t remember which one. It might have been both.”
William snorted. “Yeah, good luck with that. Maybe she’ll get up with you on her way back home.”
“She might make it. She was kinda hot,” Ethan said.
“You’d know better’n me,” William replied, taking several long sips of his beer. He’d barely put it down before Maria was back, dropping another one in front of him with a wink.
William reached out and pulled her back down into his lap. “Perks of living with a waitress,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.
She wriggled in his lap and gave him her bite-the-bottom-lip grin. “Not everyone gets these perks, big guy.”
Ethan stood up. “Gonna get more beer.”
He still had half a bottle, but William’s scowl had finally faded, so he figured he’d let the guy relax. The better William’s mood, the more inclined he would be to be helpful in wrangling the rest of the MC for an attempt at a meeting.
He was halfway to the bar when he saw the door open. He stopped in the middle of the room, staring in pure surprise. It was a woman. That wasn’t really the shocking part; lots of women came to The Hole. Most of them were honest enough and just looking for a rough guy to take a ride with later. In both senses of the word. This woman, though...God. He’d never seen anyone like her walk through these doors.
She was small, a bit more than a foot shorter than his own six feet five inches. Her slender body was shown off to its best advantage in a clinging green dress. He thought maybe it was silk and lace. He knew for sure that it was sexy.
Her red gold hair fell down over her shoulders in soft waves and framed a heart shaped face that made his mouth go dry. He’d had his share of pretty women. This one was gorgeous. Her bright red lips and dark eye makeup reminded him of the ’40s pinup girls that decorated one full sleeve of art on his arm.
She was obviously well off, too; even he knew the bright red sole of her black stilettos meant money. Her bag had a clear emblem on it, too. And there was something about the way she held herself, framed in the doorway, lit by the harsh lights, that told him she was used to being watched. He wasn’t the only one staring and that pissed him off.
She stepped into the bar and the smooth skirt moved with an alluring sway around her lean legs. As she walked closer, clearly headed to the bar, he could see her green eyes flash. Her full mouth was set determinedly. Was she tracking down a cheating boyfriend? If so, he was happy to kick the guy’s ass for her.
His brain only kicked into gear once she had taken a seat at the bar. He moved after her, trying hard not to hurry. He wasn’t the first to get there.
“What can I buy you, sweetheart?”
The woman looked the man up and down. Ethan could see she wasn’t impressed. He didn’t really blame her. Michael Slattery was the leader of another MC just outside of Elko. Michael considered The Angel’s Keepers a rival. Ethan considered Michael a moron.
Ethan stood behind the woman and gave Michael a smile. “Nothing,” he said, making the woman look over her shoulder and up at him. He glanced down and read appreciation in her big green eyes. A knot in his stomach relaxed.
“Why don’t you let the girl speak for herself?” Michael demanded, drawing himself to his full height and stepping closer.
“You mean the woman?” Ethan questioned, leaning casually against the bar.
“Whatever. Ain’t your call, Sammy boy. It’s hers.” Michael was barely looking at the woman now, spoiling for a fight that he clearly felt had been coming for too long. “Unless maybe you think me and you should take it outside.”
“If I’m gonna kick your ass,” Ethan said easily. “I’d rather have an audience.”
The woman had turned to face him now, her eyes wide, her breathing faster than it had been before. He tried not to look, but he couldn’t help but follow the plunging neckline of her dress to the swell of her pale breasts.
She bit her lower lip. She was clearly a little afraid. She was also watching him much more closely than she’d watched Michael. William was approaching from the back of the bar. Taylor, Ryan, and Kenny were getting up from their various conversations to join him. Jimmy was looking up from his game of pool speculatively. He always analyzed the situation a bit longer than the rest. Ethan appreciated it. He pushed himself upright.
“She turned down your drink. I’m turning down your fight. Looks like there’s nothing left for you to do, Michael. I’d suggest you get the hell out of here.”
“Fuck you, you don’t own the place!” Michael took a quick step forward.
William grabbed the back of his vest and jerked him back so fast that he nearly lost his balance.
“You can either hit the road, or I can make sure it hits you,” the Sergeant at Arms snarled.
Michael straightened his jacket and eyed William appraisingly for a moment. He decided that he didn’t want to try it and walked away as fast as he could without being accused of being a coward. William walked back to his table in the corner after giving the woman a quick glance and Ethan a raised eyebrow.
Clearly William was wondering what the hell she was doing there. William wasn’t the only one. A lot of the men in the bar had turned their attention her way. But none of them were willing to challenge Ethan.
Ethan turned to the bartender, trying to figure out the best way to approach her. “Whiskey.”
The bartender, not the least rattled by the near miss at a brawl, poured a glass and slid it over. Ethan picked it up and took a burning sip. The woman smiled at the bartender when he glanced her way.
“Same,” she said simply. The whiskey glass was in her hands before she looked up at Ethan again. “Thanks, by the way. I didn’t really know what to do.”
“No problem. That guy’s a dickhead.”
She nodded. “He looked like it.”
“And what about me?” Ethan asked. “What do I look like?”
She sipped her drink and then gave him a quick smile. “A man with good taste in whiskey.”
“And you look like a woman who got lost on her way to somewhere better,” he said bluntly. Hell, the only other option was “what’s a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?” and he wasn’t willing to go quite that far in order to get his question answered. “What are you doing here?”
She shrugged lightly and raised her glass to her lips. Just before she took a sip, she said, “Branching out. There are only so many fundraisers a woman can take.”
“I think you’re pretty safe from that here. The only time we have fundraisers is when Taylor’s too broke to drink,” Ethan said, raising his voice so his friend could hear him as he approached the bar.
Taylor laughed and flipped Ethan off. The woman smiled, revealing a dimple in her left cheek, and Ethan’s stomach clenched again.
“Never told you my name,” he said abruptly. “Ethan.” He held his hand out, wanting her touch.
“Amelia,” she answered, placing her small-boned hand into his.
Her skin was pale and smooth. His gaze dipped to her cleavage once more and he allowed himself a slightly longer glance now that she wasn’t afraid. Her breasts were on the small side, but they looked full for their size. There was a dusting of small freckles on her chest and he wanted to follow every one of the
m with his tongue.
“How do you like it, Amelia?” he asked, more insinuation in his tone than he’d planned.
Her blush at the question tinted her cheekbones a pleasing pink. It had been a long time since he’d seen a woman flush with anything other than anger or liquor. He saw her throat work as she swallowed.
“The bar or the company?” she asked, her voice only loud enough to be heard over the jukebox.
He leaned down, speaking closer to her ear. “Both.”
She turned her head, her breath warm on his skin as she said, “One’s okay. The other is exactly what I was looking for.”
He stepped back and finished his whiskey in one drink. He liked the light in her eyes and the curve of her mouth when she flirted with him. He liked the way that she spelled out what she wanted and what she thought. He was tired of the games that seemed to come with a night or two of mutual satisfaction.
“Dance with me,” she said suddenly.
“I don’t dance,” he answered just as quickly.
She stood up, finished her own drink, and caught his hand. “That’s okay. I do.”
Knowing that William and the rest of the guys were never going to let him live it down, and finding it completely impossible to care what they thought, Ethan let her pull him out near the jukebox. She smiled up at him, clearly happy that he was letting her lead him.
“Now,” she instructed. “Just put your hands on me and I’ll do the rest.”
He rested his hands on her slender hips as she found the rhythm in the song. She moved sensuously, her body brushing his just enough to make his skin tingle for more contact. He wanted to pull her closer, wanted to taste those red lips, the whiskey on her tongue.
“You’re pretty good at this,” he said as she twisted her hips, letting him feel her move.
Amelia gave a half smile, flashing that dimple again. “I’m good at a lot of things, Ethan.”
His hands tightened on her. He still didn’t quite understand why she was in this rundown biker bar, but he was so damn glad she was.
Chapter 6
Amelia
Amelia couldn’t quite believe she’d been so bold. Or so lucky. She had picked the bar at random, telling the cab driver to stop when she saw the gleaming motorcycles lined up under the neon lights. The cabbie had pressed his card into her hand when she’d insisted that this was where she wanted to be dropped off. He’d been so clearly concerned that she’d felt honored. While she appreciated the gesture, she hadn’t wanted anyone worrying about her tonight. This might be the last night she’d ever be truly free.
Of all the men she’d imagined populating a bar like this, she hadn’t expected anyone like the man she was currently dancing with. For one thing, he’d defended her and he’d done it without throwing a single punch. She’d been amazed and more than slightly relieved that the encounter between Ethan and Michael had ended the way it had ended. She was in the mood to be a little wild, but not quite ready for center of a bar fight wild.
For another thing, the man she was currently dancing with was better than good looking. He was devastatingly hot. Ethan had to be close to six and a half feet tall and he simply towered over her. His broad shoulders strained the seams of his plain black tee shirt and she could tell that the rest of him was just as muscular.
She couldn’t resist resting her hands on his biceps, which were rock hard. His chest and stomach were equally defined, but her courage wasn’t quite up to them yet. In her world of office workers and campaign managers, he was certainly the biggest man she’d ever been close to. And, yet, she felt perfectly safe.
It was more than just his body, though. He had a way of moving that was absolutely intentional and confident, even though he hadn’t been lying when he said that he didn’t dance. He was moving slightly, mostly just holding onto her, keeping his body as close to hers as he could get it. She wasn’t complaining. She wanted to look at him as closely as she could.
He had thick, black hair that was cut shorter on the sides and left slightly longer on top. He kept it pushed back, but stray pieces fell over his forehead, making him look a little less intimidating than his firm features and muscular build implied. She couldn’t quite make out the color of his eyes in the low bar lights, but they were dark. His smile was gorgeous, curving his lips, flashing even, white teeth, crinkling those dark eyes at the corners. It was especially delicious because she hadn’t expected any of the men here to have a sense of humor at all. A kissably firm jawline and a five o’clock shadow finished off his good looks. What would that stubble feel like on her skin? She didn’t know, but the thought of finding out sent shivers through her.
“These are nice,” she said when the music changed to a slower song, a classic rock ballad. She traced her finger down the inside of his forearm, admiring the art there. “I like all of them. Or at least, all the ones I can see.”
“Hell, I like everything about you,” he said, too distracted by how amazing such a simple touch from her felt and by how she was moving to conceal the way he was feeling.
“You do?” She regretted the question immediately. The woman she was channeling tonight wouldn’t be shocked at a man’s appreciation. She’d take it as her due.
He gave her a frank appraisal. “What’s not to like?”
Amelia saw the look in his eyes when Ethan pulled back and it made her breath catch in her throat. Intent burned dark there and she felt herself begin to tremble. No one had ever looked at her that way. She stopped dancing, going onto her tiptoes, wrapping her arms around him, feeling the tension in his broad shoulders. “It all looks really good to me,” she said. “So... you’re in a biker bar...I’m guessing one of those bikes out there is yours....”
“Yeah?”
“Well...” She gathered her courage. It was easier than she’d thought it would be because she was close to desperate to have his amazing mouth on hers. “Will you let me ride?”
He scanned her face, seeming to make sure that they were on the same page. Then he grinned, a slow smile that made her knees go weak as her stomach somersaulted. “Only if you promise to hold on tight,” he said.
# # #
In the parking lot, Ethan stopped in front of a gleaming blue motorcycle.
“This one’s mine,” he said.
She could hear the pride in his voice. “What kind is it?”
He glanced down at her. “Are you really interested?”
“Of course I am!” Amelia answered, slightly indignant. “I might not know a lot about them, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to learn.”
Ethan eyed her appraisingly and then handed her his helmet without speaking. Before she had a chance to begin fumbling to put it on, he leaned down and kissed her. All she could do was grip the helmet as his mouth worked over hers. She’d been kissed before, of course. She’d even liked it. She’d always thought kisses were nice. Slightly tingly. Basically, just okay. This was completely different. It was like an earthquake in every heartbeat. Ethan’s lips coaxed hers to part easily and when his teeth caught her lower lip, she surprised herself with a moan of pleasure.
His hand tightened on the back of her neck at the sound, but he pulled back from the kiss. His breathing was a little heavy as he looked down at her, watching her steadily. She could feel her nipples tightening and she knew that he could see it through the thin silk of her dress.
“Still okay with going home with me?” he asked.
Amelia nodded rapidly and then cleared her throat, trying to look a little less desperately eager. “I’d love to.”
He grinned and traced his thumb down her cheek. “Good, because I’d love to have you.”
Before she could respond, he took the helmet out of her hands and pushed it down over her head. Then he slung a leg over the bike and helped her settle in behind him. She leaned close, pressing against his back.
“Arms around me,” he said, his voice rough. “Keep ‘em tight and lean when I lean. The sooner I get you home the better.”
She wrapped her arms around his waist, feeling his stomach muscles tense as he kicked the bike into gear. The hum of it between her legs, combined with feeling his lean back against her aching nipples, had her whole body tingling.
Amelia let her hands dip just slightly, down to the waistband of his jeans, where she cupped him surreptitiously. She couldn’t hear it over the roar of the bike, but she thought that she felt him groan. She caught her breath. He was pretty big. And likely to get bigger once they got started. Maybe she’d chosen the wrong guy.
They stopped at a red light and his hand moved back, rubbing the backs of his fingers down her thigh. Her skin tingled. No. This was the only man she wanted for the task at hand. She shivered when he squeezed her gently and then seamlessly pulling into traffic, driving confidently and casually. The way he moved with the bike was sexy as hell, an extension of the way he moved through a crowd.