by Cathryn Cade
“You are so full of it,” Lindi said. Her voice turned urgent with concern. “For God’s sake, don’t play them against each other, Kit. You’ve got one pissed off biker on your trail, do you really want two more?”
Okay, that hurt. “Maybe you should remember that I’m almost as old as you are,” she said, piling containers in her arms. “And that I’ve already got one mom, I don’t need another.”
Her glow of happy arousal was doused like a pissed-on campfire, and the suffocating blanket of anxiety was back, with the added weight of hurt. Lindi, one of the people who knew her best, clearly had no faith that she could handle any of this.
Lindi followed her silently inside. She waited until Kit had put the food in the fridge before speaking up. “I’m sorry, honey,” she said. “I just—”
Kit waved her hands. “Look, I know you love me, Lin. But it was only a couple of months ago you were the one leaping into bed with a stranger. Luckily, Jack turned out to be a great guy. Well, Keys and Remi are great guys too, and—” and she could hardly tell Lindi she was going to leap into Keys’ bed with both of them. “I’ll figure this out for myself.”
Silence fell between them, broken only by the twang of a steel guitar from the boom box outside.
Lindi nodded, looking subdued. “Right. So, want some help cleaning up the rest of this? Then can you show me one more time how to download songs onto my phone, puh-lease? Because I screwed it up again.” Her tone said she was willing to look stupid herself to get back in Kit’s good graces.
Kit took the out gratefully, because she hated fighting with anyone, especially her bestie. “Yes, I’ll show you again. Although I may start charging you for repeat training.”
Lindi snapped her fingers. “Hey, that reminds me--I do have some cash for you. Your pay and tips from the last few days.”
Lindi dug in her purse, a cute, fringed, black leather bag Kit hadn’t seen before, which meant Jack had taken her shopping again, and handed over an envelope. “I split the tips between the three of us.”
“Thanks,” Kit said gratefully. She stuffed the envelope in the pocket of her skirt. “Now I can pay Keys back for the phone he bought me.”
“Yeah, good luck with that,” Lindi said wryly, as she wiped down the counter top. “Bet you a buck he won’t take it.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re right. He’s been taking notes from Jack. ‘Bitches don’t pay, I pay.’“ Kit mimicked in a deep voice.
“You got that right.” They laughed together.
Keys probably wouldn’t take money from her. In which case she’d have to be sneaky, and spend the money on some things he could use around here, like some decent kitchen towels, and some real dishes. His consisted of paper plates and bowls, and his coffee mugs were mostly ugly souvenirs of gas stations and the like.
Except maybe she should be stashing the cash for later, when she had to leave here. If Lindi hired another waitress, Kit was going to have to find another job, one at which she could actually make a living.
Because she had a feeling she might not be going back to stay with her mom anytime soon. Which left her with the option of doing as Deni did and moving on to another biker, or supporting herself.
The suffocating blanket settled over her again, stealing her breath and churning her stomach. Shit, if she wasn’t careful she was gonna puke her lunch right back up. She took another drink of her Coke, now lukewarm, and swallowed hard, willing herself to calm.
Slow breaths and focus. Picturing Keys’ strong face steadied her, and gratitude eased the tightness in her chest. She was damn lucky to be here, and she needed to pay him back in some way. So, yeah, she’d save some of the cash, but she’d spend some on Keys.
He was going to need everything new for his house. He’d have to choose everything, from paint to furniture to dishes and such. She knew nothing about that. She wasn’t sure her mom had ever owned a set of dishes in her life, or matching towels. Which was just sad, if she thought about it. So she wouldn’t.
And Remi—she’d love to buy him some clothes. All she’d ever seen him wear was blue jeans, boots, and white tees. He’d look so handsome in a red Henley tee and black leather pants
“Okay,” she said, rinsing her hands and then swiping them on her skirt. “Let’s take our phones outside.”
“Good idea,” Lindi said, her eyes lighting up. “Scenery.”
Kit grinned. This was true. The scenery around here was fabulous.
And the trees and sky were nice too.
By the time the builders shut down for the day, all the stud walls of the house were up and nailed into place, and various other tasks that Kit couldn’t discern had been accomplished as well. The crew drove away in their pickups, sunburned and satisfied.
Jack grabbed the glass of cold water Lindi handed him, took one drink and poured the rest over his head, soaking his bandanna, face and throat and his burly, sun-burned shoulders. Then he grabbed her, ignoring her squeals of protest, and lifted her up for a long kiss. She kissed him back, lifting her legs around his waist.
Kit couldn’t help but smile. They were so cute, although she’d never say that where Jack could hear her. Bikers did not consider ‘cute’ a compliment.
Keys took the cold beer Kit handed him and sat on one of the plastic chairs set in the shade, tipping up his beer for a long drink.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he said. He was sunburned too, across his shoulders, although his face, neck and arms were already tanned. He grinned up at her. “You stayin’ cool, Red?”
“Yep,” she answered. “Hardly work up a sweat at all, using a smart phone.”
“That’s all right,” he told her. “Get you plenty hot later.”
Remi bumped her with his bare arm and gave her a look from under his lashes. “Just like I promised when you ate your veggies.”
Kit squirmed, and he slung his arm over her shoulders, snickering. He was hot, damp with sweat and she wouldn’t have pushed him away for any money.
Lindi and Jack had to leave soon after—translated, Jack wanted to get Lindi alone and naked—so they headed off down the drive.
When the rumble of Jack’s Harley died away, Remi drained his water, and rubbed a hand over his bare chest, grimacing. “I need a cool shower.”
Keys settled back in his chair and surveyed the skeleton of his house. “What do you think of it so far, Red?”
Kit looked from him to the house. Now that he mentioned it, she was wildly curious. “Can I walk through it and look around?”
“C’mon, I’ll give you the nickel tour.”
They walked across the gravel to the foundation, where he held out his hand and offered her balance as they walked up the broad plank from the ground to the sub-floor.
“Here’s the front room,” Keys told her, indicating the open space to their left. “Back here’s the kitchen, with a big bar to separate them. I don’t like little rooms, I like open spaces.”
Kit nodded. After the succession of trailers and little old houses she’d grown up in, she totally got that.
“We’ll have a deck off the back, to catch more shade. Stairs here going up from the middle, to the bedrooms. Back here off the east side of the deck is the den, over here’s the laundry room, with a mudroom leading out to the garage. It’s gonna be a triple, with nice roomy stalls.”
Kit gazed around her, trying to picture it as he said.
“What d’you think?” he asked again.
“It’s wonderful. But it seems like a lot of room for just one guy,” she said, then bit her lip.
He grinned at her. “Yup. But then I don’t figure on bein’ alone here, Red.”
“You don’t?” Of course he didn’t. He’d have no trouble at all finding plenty of men and women who wanted to help him fill this place with their company.
He sauntered to her. “Nope. Plan on having friends here a lot. And if I’m lucky, lover or maybe two to share the space with me. Four bedrooms upstairs.”
She didn’
t have a clue what to say to that, so she merely watched as he came close enough to touch her, kiss her. But even though every cell in her body reacted, yearning for him, he did neither.
Instead he walked with her back out to the foyer and looked at her, his gaze direct, searching. “About this morning, babe. You know anyone who might be pissed at you—enough to send those guys after you?”
Okay, whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t that. Kit shook her head. “No. God no. Except for Bouncer, I always got along with everyone around the club house. I mean, there was the occasional crap from the guys, but nothing serious. Just … bikers being bikers. And some of the women are bitches, but they’re that way to everyone, not just me.”
“How about at work? You had part-time gigs, right? Any weird customers or co-workers go postal or anything?”
“No. The Flying Bean in Airway Heights, that’s the place I was working last—it was great. And the customers were just ordinary people.”
“Okay, just trying to cover all the angles.”
Kit wrapped her arms round herself, chilled despite the heat of the day. “You don’t think Bouncer sent those guys?”
Keys shook his head. “Dunno, Red. Not sure. Anyway, you stick close until we know for sure, you get me?”
“I’ve been trying to,” she blurted and then clapped a hand over her mouth. But too late, because her sexy biker man was giving her a look of amused appreciation, and then chuckling.
He let his gaze drop down over her breasts and lower. Then he shook his head and backed away, turning to the open doorway.
“Oh, you will get me. But if I touch you now, Red, not gonna want to stop. If I kiss you, it’ll be even worse. I wanna fuck you bad. So for now, it’s hands off. We clear?”
She huffed a sigh and walked past him, and down the ramp to the ground. “We’re clear.”
Didn’t mean she didn’t want him to suffer as she was. So she tossed her hair back, letting the late afternoon breeze furl it up behind her, and sauntered back across the gravel toward the shop, putting an extra swing in her hips. She could feel him watching her walk away, and she heard a quiet sound, like a growl of frustration deep in his chest.
It felt dangerous, like she was setting herself square in the eye of a predator, the good kind. It also felt like she was making herself heard, without another word. Making her presence felt in this bastion of maleness.
* * *
After his shower, Keys was restless. He knew exactly why—he couldn’t have what he wanted, which was Kit and Remi in bed with him, making that love sammy Jack had ribbed him about.
But he knew another fix. He got dressed, and came back downstairs. “Let’s go for a ride,” he called to Remi, who had his head in the open fridge, rummaging. “What d’you say, lover? Need the wind in my face.”
Remi straightened. “Sure, I’m in.”
They both looked to Kit, who looked like someone had just announced there was a party and she was afraid she wasn’t invited.
“Flip you for who gets Red on the back of his bike,” Keys grinned.
He won. He and Remi rummaged and found Kit an old leather jacket and helmet in one of the cupboards. Keys scowled at the fit of the helmet, which was thirty years old if it was a day.
“You and Remi don’t wear helmets,” she pointed out, making a face as the cracked lining of the helmet caught on her hair.
“Nope. But you wanna climb on the back of my bike, you do,” he said. “Your choice, Red.”
She shrugged. “I’ll wear one.” She didn’t look too surprised by his refusal, but then she’d grown up around bikers.
“This’ll get you to the Harley shop, anyway. We’ll fit you out there. For now, go put some jeans and shoes on. Wear socks, ‘cause I’m buyin’ you boots.”
She opened her mouth to argue, he gave her a steely glare, and she shut up again, although she rolled her eyes at Remi, who just grinned at them both.
He looked over at Remi, who had a red bandanna tied over his black hair and silver shades, his black leather jacket accentuating his lean frame. Damn the man was hot and beautiful.
Keys wore his leather jacket over his jeans and Henley, a gray bandanna tied over his hair and his favorite aviators.
Remi lifted his chin, Kit gave an excited little squeal, and Keys revved his bike in answer. The motor gave a throaty growl, and they were off down the drive, and easing onto the road down to the highway.
They purred along the curving road with the lake flashing in the sun to one side, and the walkers and joggers on the shore path turning to look as they passed.
They took the interstate over to Post Falls to the Harley shop. Once there, Keys sent her and Remi to choose her a jacket while he checked out the helmets.
Remi found her a bitchin’ fitted black jacket, Keys picked a silver woman’s helmet with pretty scroll designs, made sure it fit her, and set it on the counter by the cash register.
“Grab a pair of shades,” he told her.
He paid, Remi cut the tags for her, and they left the old helmet and jacket, the clerk promising to toss the leather in a donation box. Keys nodded approvingly at Kit, standing beside his bike. Now she looked like a biker babe in her tight jeans, kick-ass boots and fitted jacket, pretty helmet and shades.
“Where to?” Remi called.
“Let’s head north,” Keys suggested. “Up to Sandpoint, and ride along Lake Pend Oreille. We can have supper up there.”
“Awesome!” Kit agreed, her arms tightening around Keys waist.
“Hang on, mama,” he called over his shoulder, and they were off.
Keys hadn’t had a woman on the back of his bike for a long time. It felt awesome. Felt right to have her arms around his waist, her tits pressed against his back, her lush body weighting the action of his big Harley.
She knew how to ride, knew to lean with him into the momentum of the bike, knew to stay relaxed when he accelerated and booted it out into the left lane, flying past other vehicles and gaining nothing but clear road ahead of them.
The bike rumbled beneath him, vibrating up through him, eating up the road, the wind whipped over and around them and she snuggled in behind him, her thighs clasping his ass, her arms holding him fast, and beside them Remi rode, relaxed and gorgeous on his own bike.
Keys tipped back his head and let out a yell of sheer joy. Fuck, he loved his life.
Chapter Thirteen
“Oh, Ki-it!” called a deep, male voice in a playful sing-song.
Kit clasped her new sun-dress to her bare breasts. Fresh from her morning shower, she stood alone in Keys’ shop office-bedroom, getting dressed. Since she’d washed her hair the day before, she’d tied it up on her head out of the way this morning to stay dry during her shower.
It was early, the builders weren’t even here yet—too early to be up in her opinion, but she’d awakened when the guys started thumping around.
Now Remi was on the stairs.
“What?” she called back, half-smiling, half-suspicious.
After their awesome ride along the tree-lined highway to Sandpoint and back—she’d been on the back of Remi’s bike on the way home—she’d spent the night in the middle of the huge mattress, with Keys on one side and Remi on the other.
It had taken her for-freaking-ever to go to sleep with all that hotness surrounding her and no satisfaction available thanks to Keys’ no-more-sex-until-test-results rule. Even knowing he was right didn’t make it any easier to take.
So now, she couldn’t imagine why she’d be hearing that tone from either of the guys, unless ...
Remi appeared in the doorway, a wide smile on his face. He took in her nearly naked state and his grin widened.
“Mm-mm,” he approved. “You’re dressed just right for the good news.”
“What good news?” Her heart was thumping like a drum, and nervous excitement twisted in her tummy, empty except for the orange juice she’d grabbed on her way to the shower.
Remi prowled into the r
oom and around the mattress to her. He was freshly showered too, and barefoot under his faded jeans. He wore no shirt, and his hard, lean torso and muscular arms were on full display. His hair hung damp down his back, free of the braid.
He didn’t stop until he was close, her upraised arm against his warm, smooth chest. His eyes glittered, his pupils dilated.
“The doc phoned. Your test results are clean.”
Kit caught her breath. “Really? Oh, thank God.”
“That’s what he said,” he quipped. His gaze fell to her lips, his ebony lashes screening his gaze. “‘Cause now I get to touch you. You good with that?”
She may have whimpered. She nodded, a soft, breathy sound of excitement rising between them as his beautiful face came nearer and nearer, his warm, coffee scented breath tickling her cheek, then his soft, damp lips brushing hers. She shivered and leaned in, pressing her parted lips to his, intent only on getting closer.
Her dress was tugged from her grasp, and Kit let her arm drop too, baring her breasts. Her nipples brushed his chest, warm electric skin, perfect and enticing. More. The word flashed in her foggy brain like a neon sign as she pressed closer still, her hands sliding around his lean, taut ribcage to his back. His hard muscle and satin skin felt incredible.
Remi pulled her flush against him, one strong hand hot on her bare back, the other spearing into her hair to hold her there as he tipped his head to kiss her, his tongue slipping into her mouth, then harder as he bent her head back under the force of his kiss, a raw shudder running through him.
For a moment, the only sound was their ragged breathing, and the succulent sounds of wet mouths clinging, releasing only to meet again, the rough hm-m of pleasure from Remi as he managed to insert one hand between them and cup her bare breast, shaping and squeezing it in his hand. It felt so good, Kit put her hand over his to keep it there.
He broke the kiss and leaned back from the waist, surveying her breasts and what he was doing. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Your tits. Big, soft and fuckin’ gorgeous ... better than I imagined. And the way you feel ... God.”