Shade's Lady

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Shade's Lady Page 3

by Joanna Wylde


  “Wait for a minute,” Rebel said. “Until after I finish talking to Shade. I’ve missed you.”

  He glanced down at my chest pointedly, and I flushed. He had this thing for fucking my boobs, squishing them together around his dick. It wasn’t as much fun for me as some of the other games we played, but I loved watching him come. I also loved it when—nope, don’t go there.

  Still, thinking about crawling into bed with my sexy (if annoying) boyfriend was enough to improve my mood. Orgasms will do that for a girl. Balancing the tray against my side with one hand, I ran the other down his chest, glancing down the hallway to make sure we were really alone before giving his dick a quick squeeze. He groaned and I felt tinglies run down my spine. The door opened and we jumped apart.

  “Shade says he’ll talk to you,” the prospect told him. Then he turned to me. “He also says they’re good on drinks, at least for now. You can check back in about half an hour.”

  Rebel pushed past me so fast I nearly dropped the tray of empties. So much for his boob fetish. The tinglies evaporated and I sighed, heading back down the hall. Rebel might be fun to hang out with, but the guy was never gonna be my soul mate. You don’t have to marry the man to enjoy each other, I reminded myself, mentally adding “find soul mate” to Future Me’s list.

  Then I mentally crossed it off, because fuck soul mates.

  My sister and I had both struck out once already, and that was enough. Future Me would probably do better to stay single. I should add that to her list.

  Bone put me to work washing glasses. The bar crowd had thinned out and Sara had already gone home for the night. Suz was doing surprisingly well handling the customers on her own. I’d just finished draining the sink when I saw that the garbage was getting full. I decided to be proactive and go dump it. Lifting it out of the can, I ducked through the side door and jogged down the steps and across the gravel toward the dumpster. I caught a flash of motion from the corner of my eye and looked over to see three men standing next to the building.

  One leaned casually against the wall toward the back of the bar. Next to him was a second, his stance vigilant, while a third stood in front of them, waving his hands and talking. Then I caught a familiar voice in the breeze.

  Rebel?

  Holy shit, that was Rebel out there. Was he talking to Shade? I squinted my eyes, thinking I really needed to get myself some new contacts. Yup, that was Shade, and another one of his biker buddies whose name I couldn’t quite remember. I made a point of letting the dumpster lid slam down hard after tossing in the garbage. That way they’d know I hadn’t been trying to spy on them. Then I went back to washing dishes, hoping Rebel wasn’t getting himself in trouble.

  He came back inside about ten minutes later, looking distracted but pleased. I caught his gaze and raised a brow, silently asking him how things had gone. Rebel grinned and gave me a thumbs-up. I wasn’t quite sure what that meant in practical terms, but at least he was happy.

  “Can you grab Bone? Shade needs to talk to him.”

  I looked up, startled to find the prospect standing in the open walkway at the end of the bar.

  “Um, sure,” I said. “Give me a sec.”

  Bone was at the far end of the bar, flirting with a very drunk, very friendly girl whose tank top was so tight it might as well have been painted on. I caught my boss’s arm. He turned to me, frowning.

  “Sorry, but Shade wants to see you in the back.”

  “Won’t be long,” he told Drunk Girl. She pouted as he started down the hall, then narrowed her eyes at me.

  “Are you with him or something?”

  “With who?” I asked, confused.

  “Bone.”

  I burst out laughing, then shook my head.

  “Nope, I don’t think I’m his type.”

  She looked me over, and I couldn’t help but notice that she didn’t look so drunk now. Interesting. Someone was playing games, trying to catch Bone’s attention. “And what’s his type?”

  “Drunk and pretty,” I said, offering her a smile. “Keep up the good work and he’ll be all yours.”

  That seemed to make her happy, which felt nice. It’d be interesting to see if Bone went home with her. He lived in an apartment right over the bar, but I’d never seen him take a woman there. I’d asked him about it once and he said it was too hard to get rid of them when he was done.

  Yeah, my boss was classy like that.

  One of the regulars shouted for beer, and I’d just finished pulling his pint when Bone showed up again, looking pissed. He stomped over to me, glaring.

  “You’re done for the night,” he said. I stared at him, confused.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Grab your shit and punch out,” he replied. “Your shift is over.”

  This made no sense.

  “You’re going to close by yourself?”

  “Suz is here,” he snapped.

  “But Suz has never closed before.”

  And I need the hours…

  “Not your problem. Leave. Now. And watch your ass, okay?”

  The warning confused me even more.

  “What’s going on?”

  “Not a Goddamned thing,” he muttered. “Just me running my bar all by my fucking lonesome. Christ.”

  He ran a hand through his hair, obviously frustrated as he glanced toward Drunk Girl, then sighed. Okey-dokey. Whatever was happening here, it was way over my pay grade. I turned to leave, then thought about my poor drowned cell phone. Turning back, I asked, “Can you give me an extra shift this week? I mean, since you’re sending me home early?”

  “We’ll see,” he replied, looking even more frustrated. “Depends.”

  “On what?”

  “On how many more fucking questions you ask.”

  Well, that was confusing and bizarre all mashed together. Great. Trying not to scowl, I headed for the office, untying my apron as I walked. The prospect was gone and the back room had been abandoned. Had the Reapers gone out the back door? I stepped in, looking at the table. It was covered with empty glasses but no money to pay for their booze. Not even a tip.

  Fuck.

  I knew Bone sent them drinks on the house sometimes, but they’d always left something for me. Now I’d lost my hours and gotten stiffed.

  “Fucking men.”

  Five minutes later I’d punched out, grabbing my bag as I went to look for Rebel. He met me coming down the hallway, obviously excited. I opened my mouth to ask about his talk with Shade. Before I could say anything, he caught me up into his arms, giving me a hard, smacking kiss.

  “Gonna get the bike,” he said when it ended, eyes still dancing. “But I need your help picking it up. Shade wants to take care of things tonight. That’s why he asked Bone to let you off work.”

  Ah, crapsicles. That explained Bone’s general pissiness about sending me home.

  “You should’ve talked to me first,” I said, frowning. “I can’t afford to—”

  “It’s all good,” Rebel insisted. “Bone won’t hold it against you, I promise. But I really need your help. I’ve got my truck here. We’re gonna head to Shade’s place and pick up the bike, and then I need you to drive the truck back home for me.”

  “Can’t we go in the morning?” I asked, annoyed. “It seems weird that we have to do this in the middle of the night.”

  Rebel flushed.

  “He gave me a discount, okay?” he admitted. “Way better deal than I expected. I’m scared he’ll change his mind. We get it done tonight, it’s done. You’ll love the new bike, I promise. We’re gonna have a blast on it.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But you owe me.”

  “Anything you want, baby. I promise. Just do this one favor for me. I swear you won’t regret it.”

  Grabbing my hand, he dragged me down the hall, through the bar and into the parking lot. Lined up across the front were the Reapers MC bikes, flanked by Shade and his brothers. Most of them were busy getting ready to leave, but Shade stood
staring at us, his big arms crossed over his chest in the dim glow of the single streetlight.

  “Oh, I forgot one thing,” Rebel said, pausing on the porch. He turned me toward him, frowning apologetically. “I’ve got a bunch of shit in the front seat of the truck. Boxes and stuff that can’t go in the back, so there’s no room for you. I need you to catch a ride with Shade, sound good?”

  My eyes widened, and I stiffened.

  “No, that’s not good,” I hissed in a low voice, glancing toward the man in question, hoping he couldn’t read lips. Offending him wasn’t the brightest, but neither was climbing on his bike.

  Way too scary.

  Rebel caught my shoulders, giving me a little squeeze as he stared deep into my eyes. “I’m sorry, babe. I really am. But I need your help tonight, so please say you’ll do it? Just this once? It’s not even that far.”

  I looked back toward Shade, who watched us, his face expressionless. The man was terrifying, no question, but would it really kill me to take a quick ride with him?

  “You’ll be right behind us the whole time?” I asked Rebel, frustrated. But it wasn’t actually that big of a deal, was it? I’d already clocked out for the night and since I’d planned on pulling a full shift, it wasn’t like I’d had anything else going on. Rebel nodded.

  “Right behind you,” he said. “No worries. But you better get your ass over there. He’s waiting, and he’s not the most patient of guys.”

  With that, Rebel turned me toward the steps and pushed me forward, giving me a little slap on the butt. Usually I thought that was fun and cute, but it wasn’t nearly so fun and cute with the Reapers as our audience. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself to face Shade.

  It’s no big deal, Mandy. Just one quick ride. Get over yourself.

  Chapter Three

  “You okay with this?” Shade asked, looming over me. He didn’t look like a man who was happy because he’d just sold a bike. He was clearly in a shit mood, and that frown of his would’ve sent children screaming.

  Hell, it nearly sent me screaming.

  Suck it up, Mandy. No big deal. You’ve dealt with guys worse than him before.

  Hmm… Wasn’t entirely sure that was accurate. My ex—Trevor—had been a jackass and a petty criminal, but if those murder rumors were true, he was nothing compared to Shade. Of course, Shade hadn’t gotten me thrown in jail and sentenced to probation, so that was a point in his favor.

  I swallowed, glancing at his intimidatingly large maroon Harley. The Harley I’d soon be riding. I wondered how it would feel to cradle his ass in my hips and immediately got tinglies. Yup, those were definitely tinglies. I just couldn’t quite decide if they were tinglies of fear or—

  It’s only a ride, I reminded myself. Probably won’t even take very long. Then we can go home and I can have a little talk with Rebel about boundaries, and how he shit all over mine.

  “Yeah, sure. It’s no big deal,” I said, trying to keep the words light. The fact that my voice cracked halfway through probably didn’t help my case.

  Shade cocked his head, staring me down.

  “You sure?”

  I glanced toward Rebel, who nodded eagerly. Right now he wasn’t looking very cute, I decided. Not very cute at all.

  “I said it’s fine,” I told Shade, and this time my voice held steady.

  “We leaving, boss?” one of the other Reapers asked. Another big guy. Did they make these bikers in any other size? His vest patches declared his name was Dopey and that he was something called a road captain. I looked him up and down, deciding that he looked less like one of the seven dwarfs than anyone I’d ever seen in my entire life—and I’d spotted Dolph Lundgren in the Las Vegas airport once.

  “Guess so,” Shade said. “You’re with me, little waitress.”

  I sort of wanted to protest this, but mostly I wanted the whole thing over, so I climbed up behind him on the motorcycle. He kicked it to life with a roar, the bikes slowly pulling out in formation with ours in the front rank. Rebel shot me another thumbs-up as we passed.

  I’d have flipped him off, but Shade gave the throttle a twist and the powerful machine leapt forward with a burst of speed that had me holding his waist tight with both hands. Then we were tearing down the highway, the sound of engines splitting the night.

  Rebel had insisted that we wouldn’t be going far. As the miles passed, I started to realize that his definition of “far” and mine might be slightly different. Given that I’d only lived in the area for about six months, it wasn’t like I recognized any landmarks at night.

  I didn’t know how long we’d been riding when I started to look at mile markers. We might’ve been heading south—I couldn’t tell for sure. I’d just started to move from “slightly uncomfortable” toward “scared shitless” when I saw a sign for Cranston. I hadn’t given much thought about where Shade might live, but I guess it made sense for him to live close to a chapter…so I guessed technically Rebel hadn’t lied to me.

  We’d have words about this later, I decided. Stern words, and lots of them. Until then, might as well make the most of it. I forced myself to relax, leaning with Shade as we followed the long, sweeping curves of the highway through the hills, arms wrapped tight around his waist.

  In a strange way it was almost fun.

  Except “fun” wasn’t really the right word. Maybe exhilarating, because despite the fact that Shade was scary, he was also sexy in a way I didn’t like to think about. (You know, because scary trumps sexy, or it’s supposed to.) It was hard to stay scared, though, when we were flying down the road in the darkness, the sound of the big Harley engines surrounding me like a loud but very comfortable blanket.

  There was nothing quite like riding a bike at night. One of the things that’d attracted me to Rebel in the first place was his motorcycle. (And yes, I realize that makes me shallow. In my defense, I don’t think Rebel even looked up from my boobs to check out my face until our third date, so it wasn’t like he was a saint, either.) I’d never ridden before, but from the minute I hopped on the back of his bike, I loved it.

  Loved it.

  As in, loved everything about it. I loved the wild, free feeling it gave me as the wind blew by. I loved the sound, the sense of connection with the road. I even loved the danger, because the smallest mistake could lead to a crash, yet the man cradled between my thighs was in total control and that was hot.

  Unfortunately, riding with Shade was significantly hotter than riding with Rebel. There was something about being so close to him, my front glued to his back as he took full control. The way his body tensed when my fingers gripped him tight. Too, too many tinglies.

  This wasn’t a good thing.

  Not for a girl with a boyfriend. Like I said, I can admit I’m shallow, but I’ve never been fickle. I wasn’t a cheater and something about this seemed like cheating.

  Maybe it was the way I could feel all the muscles under his leather.

  I mean, I’d speculated when I’d seen him at the barbecue (I’m only human), but until now I hadn’t had proof he was actually as sexy under his clothes as my imagination insisted he must be. His thighs were big and solid, too. I knew this because I had to stretch my legs wide to make room for him, and since he didn’t have a backrest on the bike, that meant I had to stick tight or risk falling off.

  As seductive as all this was, there was also something weirdly relaxing about our ride.

  Shade was in charge. Nothing I did could change that, which meant I had to just relax and let him do his thing. When he leaned, I leaned. There was no hope of taking control over the situation, and while riding this fast through the dark should’ve been scary, he handled the bike in a way that left me feeling completely safe. Rebel was a much sloppier rider. Come to think of it, he was sort of a sloppy lover, too. He made up for it with enthusiasm, but still… I couldn’t help but wonder if Shade’s control of his bike would extend to other things…

  Nope. Don’t go there.

  Eventually we s
lowed and I realized we’d come to a town. Cranston, which was bigger than Violetta. A lot bigger. We passed a sign for a University of Idaho satellite campus, and I remembered the catalogue my sister had been looking at last month. She wanted to get a nursing degree, although seeing as she had three little kids and a van that couldn’t make it out of the front yard, I wasn’t entirely sure it was a realistic goal.

  Passing the school, we rode through the small downtown before turning again and heading back out into the countryside. I started to tense up—riding to Cranston was one thing. I hadn’t expected to come here, but it also wasn’t very far from home. Going past Cranston wasn’t part of the deal no matter how you looked at it. I’d just made up my mind to signal Shade to stop when we slowed again, turning onto a gravel road.

  The kind of road you drive down to bury bodies.

  Rebel, I’m gonna kick your ass for this one.

  Thankfully, I saw lights up ahead, and then we pulled up to a building that’d been constructed out of rough-hewn logs. You know, the kind that pioneers used to build because they didn’t have any money and that rich people build nowadays because they have too much. At least twenty motorcycles were parked out front, and I saw people on the porch hanging out and drinking beer. Loud music poured out of the building.

  I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but this wasn’t it. Not even a little bit. It couldn’t be Shade’s home, that was for damned sure. It was a motorcycle clubhouse, and they were in the middle of a full-fledged party. Either Shade had been lying to Rebel or Rebel had been lying to me.

  Fucking men.

  Shade turned off his motorcycle, and then I was climbing off and hunting for Rebel. He should’ve been right behind us but there weren’t any headlights in the distance. Shade swung off his bike and caught my arm possessively, dragging me toward the broad porch. Something was wrong here. Really wrong. I jerked back against him, but he didn’t let go.

  “Where’s Rebel?” I demanded, a mixture of fear and anger building. Shade might be the club president, but he had no damned right to drag me off like this.

 

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