Taming The Biker (MC Biker / Bad Boy Romance)

by Cassie Alexandra

  He stood up and walked over to it.

  “What are you doing?”

  He unzipped the top and began rummaging through it. “Jesus, how much stuff can one girl carry around in here?” he asked, waving a tampon. “Got your friend, huh? This is probably a good deterrent. Try waving it in the air if you run into trouble. Nobody will mess with your shit. Believe me.”

  “Seriously?” I said quickly, snatching it from him. “I don’t have my period. Not that it’s any of your business. That’s for emergencies. Would you please get out of my purse,” I said, pulling it away from him just as he found my phone.

  “I’m going to add my name and phone number to your contacts list. You get into any trouble tonight or,” he smiled wickedly, “interested in hooking up later, call me.”

  Something told me that hooking up with him would be the death of me, as hunky as he was. I would never have the guts to call him or find out what was hidden under his low-riding jeans anyway. “I don’t do hook-ups.”

  He pushed some buttons on my phone. “Why, you need to be wined and dined first?”

  I blushed. “Maybe.”

  “Fair enough.” He grinned. “How do you feel about wine and wings at my apartment later?”

  I raised my eyebrow. “Really? You wouldn’t even buy me a real dinner? Just an appetizer?” He opened his mouth to say something, but I interrupted him. “Please don’t tell me that you’re the main course or that you have a large tube-steak for me, either.”

  He laughed and handed me my phone. “I don’t need to use a line like that to get laid.”

  “Good, because we both know that it would be extremely tacky.”

  Before he could reply, a noise from one of the nearby rooms caught our attention. The sound began to increase and I quickly recognized it as Krystal’s cries of pleasure.

  “Looks like your friend is a screamer,” said Raptor, turning around. He leaned back against the counter and took another swig of beer. “Good thing the meeting is upstairs in the back, or there’d be hell to pay. Slammer doesn’t like distractions. Especially when he’s not the one involved in it.”

  I rubbed my forehead as the sounds grew louder. I couldn’t tell if hearing the other couple getting it on was embarrassing, or just making Raptor that much more appealing. “Maybe I should just go wait out in the car for her.”

  “Maybe you should just finish your beer and stay inside here with me. Where you’re safe.”

  From the way he was smiling, his definition of ‘safe’ contradicted mine.

  Chapter Three

  Holy shit was my dick begging to come out and play. I had more wood than Yellowstone National Park. It wasn’t just the noises in the other room that were making me horny, either. It was her. Sure, she was beautiful, with those come-fuck-me emerald eyes and that chestnut colored hair that I knew would feel good in my fist when I was banging her from behind. But it wasn’t only that. It was something else that was starting to suck me in and I couldn’t put my finger on it.

  “Looks like your friend is a screamer,” I said, leaning back against the counter after hearing Krystal scream again. I took another swig of beer. “Good thing the meeting is upstairs in the back, or there’d be hell to pay. Slammer doesn’t like distractions. Especially when he’s not the one involved in it.”

  She rubbed her forehead as the sounds grew louder. “Maybe I should just go wait out in the car for her.”

  I smiled wickedly. “Maybe you should just finish your beer and stay inside here with me. Where you’re safe.”

  From the look on her face, she knew that she was far from being safe. Something told me she didn’t care, either. That she was intrigued. If she even looked at my crotch with interest, I’d be on her like a dog in heat, which truthfully, was probably a bad idea since Adriana was the kind of girl I normally tried to avoid. The kind that went to college, went to church, and didn’t fuck on the first date. The kind that needed monogamy and commitment. I was down with that before Brandy had fucked me over. But, she’d taught me a lesson. Never trust anyone but your brothers. Not even the woman who warms your bed at night and sucks your dick until dawn. She’s always looking for someone else to replace you. Someone with a bigger wallet or a bigger dick. Apparently, in my case, it was a bigger wallet since Brandy had started calling me back, wanting to hook up since her boss wasn’t making her come the way I had. Still, knowing that this chick wasn’t like Brandy, or the rest of the whores that usually hung around the club, made me want to bury myself deep inside of her that much more.

  Look at my crotch.

  Come on, Kitten.

  I dare you.

  ***

  “Safe, huh?” I replied as Krystal howled in pleasure.

  “Have to admit, listening to those two is getting me a little jacked up. I haven’t had sex for a while and this isn’t helping,” he said. “What about you?”

  “What about me?”

  “Are you horny, baby?” he joked, mimicking Austin Powers.

  I stared at him in surprise. “Of course not.”

  “Liar,” he said softly, smiling. “Your face is flushed.”

  “That’s because I’m creeped out.”

  “Sex creeps you out?”

  “No,” I said a little sharply. “I just don’t care to hear other people having it.”

  His eyes traveled over my body. “We could remedy that fairly easily.”

  “Oh, yeah? How?”

  He grinned. “Drown out their noises with ours.”

  I laughed. “Wow. Seriously?”

  “When it comes to sex? Yeah,” he said.

  I shook my head and smiled. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as forward as you. Do you flirt like this with all the girls you meet?”

  “Not girls like you.”

  “What do you mean, girls like me?”

  He paused. “Classier ones.”

  His compliment made me smile. “So, what are you saying? That you usually only flirt with unclassy ones?” I joked, feeling a little flattered but nervous, too.

  “Actually, I don’t have to flirt with them. They usually come on to me.”

  “So, do you usually prefer the skanks?”

  He smirked. “Those I usually prefer on their knees.”

  I laughed. “But not the classy ones?”

  “Then, I’m usually the one on my knees.”

  My face turned scarlet at that image.

  He bit his lower lip and smiled “Sorry, am I embarrassing you?”

  “You’re making it a little… awkward.”

  “Sorry. Ever since I saw you blushing earlier, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to see it again. It’s damn cute.”

  There was a thud from the room next door. Then another and another, until it became a steady rhythm.

  “Looks like they’ve graduated to the bed. Hopefully, they’ll be done soon,” he said as the noises grew louder.

  “Wow, they have a bed in there, huh?” I said as Krystal’s moans seeped through the wall. I knew it was her birthday, but this was getting ridiculous.

  “Of course. Only Tank and his dad use it, though.”

  “Not you?”

  “I’ve never used it. I have higher standards when it comes to sex.”

  “Bars aren’t your thing?”

  “Other men’s beds are not my thing.”

  “I don’t blame you. So, how do you know Tank?” I asked, trying to change the subject.

  “We’re brothers.”

  I pulled my hair over my shoulder and stared at him in surprise. “Really? I didn’t know he had one.”

  “We’re all brothers here,” he said, taking another swig of beer.

  “Ah.”

  “Ah?”

  “I get it. You’re biker brothers.”

  He smirked. “You think you’ve figured us out, huh? I bet you’re from the suburbs and have no idea what it’s like, being on your own.”

  “Maybe not, but I heard that Tank is also from the subur
bs,” I said, feeling a little defensive.

  “Yeah, but it’s different for him. He’s lived the MC life since he was born. Obviously, you don’t know what that shit entails. But if you did, you’d understand where I’m coming from. Your parents probably sheltered you your entire life, which I can’t blame them. If I had a daughter, I’d want to do the same thing. Keep you safe. ”

  “I’m not sheltered,” I replied stiffly.

  He smirked. “Believe me, you’re sheltered. You have no idea what’s really going on out there, Kitten. On the streets and, hell, in your own backyard, now. Drugs, prostitution, sex-trafficking, murder.”

  “I watch the news,” I said. “I know what’s out there. I’ve even taken self-defense classes.”

  “Self-defense classes?” he repeated, looking amused. “What kind?”

  “Just some basic stuff. How to knock a knife out of someone’s hand. Kick him in the junk. Things like that.”

  “You think if I came at you, you’d be able to defend yourself against me?” asked Raptor, setting his beer down.

  “It’s easier to defend myself against someone who isn’t ready for me to fight back.”

  “Actually, those scumbags will anticipate you trying to defend yourself in one way or another. Why don’t you show me what you’ve learned?”

  “No, that’s okay,” I said, staring up at him now. He’d moved closer and the thought of him putting his arms around me was making my heart race.

  “Come on. Don’t be frightened. I’ll be gentle.”

  “I’d really rather not,” I said, as he moved closer.

  “I think you should,” he said. He was so close, I could smell the beer on his breath. “If you girls are going out by yourselves, and drinking, you should definitely know how to defend yourself.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” I said, keeping my beer between us.

  He laughed. “I don’t think there’s any chance of that.”

  “Don’t be too sure,” I said, looking down at my brown leather ankle-boots. They had narrow heels and I imagined if I kicked him the way my instructor had shown me, it would wipe the smile right off of his face.

  Before I could stop him, he grabbed my beer and set it on the counter. “Come here,” he said, pulling me toward the middle of the room.

  “I just told you I didn’t want to do this,” I protested.

  “Humor me. Please,” he said, turning around to face me. “I just want to see what these classes teach and maybe even give you some more pointers.”

  “Fine,” I said with a sigh. “But, just don’t get mad if I hurt you.”

  “I’ll try not to,” he said, his mouth twitching.

  “Okay,” I answered, trying to recall all of the things my instructor, Mr. Mandrill, had taught me. “So, um, whenever you’re ready.”

  “What do you want me to do?”

  I waved my hand. “I don’t know. You’re the one who wanted to see me defend myself. I guess if you were going to attack a woman, do what you’d do.”

  “Me? If I was going to attack a woman, it would be in bed and not on the streets,” he said, smiling wickedly. “And I doubt she’d fight back.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Whatever, Casanova. Just attack me. In fact, I’ll turn and you can try to get me from behind.”

  “Now we’re talking,” he answered, a smile in his voice, as I turned my back on him.

  “Okay. Whenever you’re ready.”

  “Okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around me so quickly that I barely had time to exhale. He held my wrists together in front of me. “Show me what you got, Kitten.”

  I hesitated for a second, enjoying the feel of his chest pressing against my back and the heat his body was generating. And, was it my imagination, or was there something hard pressed against my ass?

  “You smell good,” he whispered near my ear. “I think you’d better free yourself before I forget why we were doing this.”

  I felt a warm shiver go through me as I imagined his lips on my neck and then other parts of my body.

  “Well?”

  I stomped on his foot with my heel and he let me go, hollering in pain.

  “Oh, my God!” I cried as he bent over to rub the top of his boot. “I’m so sorry!”

  I heard a door slam and then Tank was rushing into the room, shirtless. “What the fuck is going on in here?”

  “Nothing. It’s okay,” said Raptor, putting his foot down.

  “What’s wrong with your foot?” said Tank as Krystal entered the room, adjusting her clothes.

  “I did it,” I said, feeling my face turn red.

  Raptor removed his black boot and then his sock. “But, I forced her into it,” he said, staring down at his foot, which was already bruising up. “Damn, girl, those heels are deadly.”

  “I’m sorry,” I repeated, still feeling horrible. “I did warn you, though.”

  “I know you did.”

  “You did that?” asked Krystal, walking over to get a better look. “How?”

  “I was pretending to attack her and she stopped me,” said Raptor. “Good move, by the way.”

  “Thanks,” I said, smiling sheepishly. “Uh, I really am sorry.”

  He put his sock back on. “It’ll heal. I’ve been through much worse.”

  “Can you walk?” asked Tank.

  He took a couple steps. “Of course. See. Hell, I could probably still kick your ass with it without flinching.”

  Tank snorted. “Yeah, you wish. It doesn’t look so good to me. I’ll go get you a stiff drink. Come on, Krystal, walk with me, babe.”

  “Uh, okay,” she said and looked back at me. “I’ll be right back and then we’ll get going.”

  “Sure,” I said. I turned back to Raptor, who was attempting to put his boot back on. “Do you think I broke anything?”

  “No,” he replied, wincing.

  “Maybe you should have that looked at,” I said, staring at his foot.

  “Seriously, it’s okay, Kitten. Don’t worry about me.”

  I laughed and shook my head.

  “What’s so funny?”

  “You keep calling me Kitten.”

  He winked. “What can I say, I like kittens. I especially like it when they curl up around your face to stay warm. Something tells me I’d like you there, too.”

  “By your face?”

  “On my face.”

  I gasped, my face turning scarlet.

  He laughed. “Sorry, I just love to see you blush, darlin’.”

  We stared at each other for a few seconds and then I asked him where he was from.

  “I have a house a few blocks away.”

  “You live there alone?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Why are you asking if I live alone?”

  “I’m just curious. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” I said, noticing the guarded look in his eyes. “I was just making conversation.”

  He relaxed. “Sorry. Yeah, I live alone. Most of the time. Sometimes I take in teens who need a temporary place to stay.”

  I stared at him in surprise. I wasn’t expecting that. “What? You’re kidding?”

  “No. Not at all. I do some volunteering at one of the shelters in Barnesfied. Sometimes, when they get a little over-run with families, I volunteer my extra bedrooms. Sometimes.”

  “Wow.”

  “Shocked, huh? You shouldn’t judge people, Kitten. I don’t know if I should smile at your surprise or be offended.”

  “I’m sorry. It just seems out of character for a guy in a… motorcycle gang like yours.”

  His eyes hardened. “Most of the guys in our club have families and kids of their own. They’re good people.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “Maybe not, but you were stereotyping.”

  I smiled grimly. “Yeah, I guess I was.”

  He sighed. “I lived on the streets most of my life growing up. My old man was an asshole and kicked me out of the
house when I was thirteen. That’s when Slammer took me in. I owe him my life and I want to make a difference in someone else’s if I get the chance. Kids aren’t meant to be thrown out like garbage.”

  “Why did your dad kick you out?”

  He was quiet for a few seconds and then sighed. “He used to beat my mom. I tried stopping him one night. He didn’t like it.”

  “So he kicked you out?”

  He grunted. “Yeah, after he beat the hell out of me.”

  My jaw dropped. “That must have been horrible. And you were only thirteen?”

  “An ‘old’ thirteen, believe me.”

  “What happened to your mom?”

  “She ended up in the hospital. When she got out, I heard she packed her bags and disappeared.”

  “She didn’t try to find you?”

  “She knew where I was. I guess she just wanted to run away from everything,” he said. “At least that’s what she put in the letter she left me. She trusted Slammer to watch over me.”

  “She knew him?”

  He stared at his beer. “She used to be a club whore.”

  I sucked in a breath.

  His eyes met mine. “It wasn’t for this club. A different one. The one my dad belonged to.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say so I waited for him to continue.

  “After she got pregnant with me, he took her in and made her his Old Lady. I don’t think he wanted to, though. It’s probably why he was such an asshole to her.”

  “He was an asshole to you, too, though. And you were his son.”

  He smirked. “Guess he didn’t want a son, either.”

  I almost missed the look of pain in his eyes because it disappeared so quickly. “So, Slammer took you in?”

  “Yep.” He smiled. “He’s definitely the shit and I’d do anything for him. Made me his Road Captain a few years ago.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I’m in charge of trips,” he said. “Among other things.”

  I stared at the small patches on the front of his black leather cut. “What does that one-percent stand for?”

  He looked down. “It’s symbolizes something the club believes in.”

  “And what is that?” I asked when he didn’t elaborate.

  “Have you ever heard anyone use the term ‘outlaw biker’?”