Outlaw MC Bear

by Bella Love-Wins

  “I’m Jenny, Cole’s old lady.”

  Her red hair was up in a high ponytail, light brown eyes winking in the somewhat harsh bulbs of the clubhouse. Maybe it was the rather conservative way she dressed compared to the other women around, or perhaps the offer of free beer had something to do with it, or it could be the genuine-looking smile spread across her lips.

  Either way, Sabrina warmed up to the strange woman. In a place like this, a supposed friend was not just a distraction, it was also a possible way out.

  “Thanks. Sabrina.” She nodded, tipping the bottle forward until their beers clinked together. “Which man is yours?”

  As she struggled to twist off the beer cap, Sabrina’s eyes followed Jenny’s finger. She pointed across the room toward a tough-as-nails, huge ox of a silver-haired man sitting in the corner near the pool table. He was idly puffing on a cigar, watching the billiard match. Her eyebrows shot up. There was quite an age difference between them, but who was she to judge. The silver fox turned, and his eyes passed over them as if he could hear his wife talking about him. He winked in their direction.

  “He seems nice,” Sabrina supplied, lost for any other commentary.

  “He’s VP. We’re newlyweds. Damn straight he’s nice. He’s everything to me.”

  Sure, okay.

  “Congrats,” Sabrina added, and kept up the conversation.

  “See the tall one with the neck tattoo and the beard? That’s Axe. He’s Sergeant at Arms and Silas’s best friend. You may have just missed Dean outside. He’s the top candidate for the vacant Road Captain position, but Silas isn’t sure about him yet. Right now Dean is charting out a route for a big ride we have coming up in a few months. Oh, and the guy at the end of the bar with his hand down the blonde’s top? That’s Tate. He’s the Secretary and Treasurer. Just so you know, he’s a dick, so do yourself a favor and stay far away from that one.”

  Sabrina smiled, but not because of what Jenny said about Tate. This escape plan was going to be a breeze with Mrs. Loose Lips filling her in on the group’s key people. She took a long swig of beer to make it seem she was interested in this Tate fella.

  “He’s a handful?” She took a second to focus on the well-built fighter with a blue Mohawk. The man’s hands were going to town on her cleavage, right there at the bar as if they were somewhere more private. The truth was she didn’t care one bit that the Tate guy was a caveman. She was planning her escape routes. “Seems like a real winner.”

  “He’s trouble…and an acquired taste. So unless you want to be screwed eight ways till Sunday and are into a lot of kinky shit, he’s not your man. If you want to pick a lock, find something online or crack a code, it’s another story. It’s why we keep him around. Plus, he’s honest with the books, and a half-decent maid.”

  Sabrina laughed, pretending to enjoy the banter. “You know, I have to ask. Why are you telling me all this?”

  Jenny looked at her from head to toe. “I just have a good feeling about you.”

  Well. Good old Jenny had some seriously bad judgment for trusting Sabrina, but who was she to straighten the girl out? In a way, it was a breath of fresh air, after all the tension with the club’s reigning president and his territorial queen bee momma breathing down her neck.

  “Thanks…I guess while I have you here, maybe you can clue me in so I know the rules of this place? I’d hate to break one by accident. I hear these places are like secret societies?”

  Jenny leveled her with a curious expression, and then she burst into a peal of giggles. “I like you, honey. Hopefully you stick around.” Jenny was still laughing as she downed the rest of her beer and let out a dainty burp. “Want another one?”

  Sabrina glanced down at her more than half-filled bottle. “Okay.”

  Jenny moved in close for a hug, so Sabrina went with it. The woman held on to her as if they’d known each other all their lives. As they pulled away, Sabrina fought to make sense of this weird kinship the woman was trying to form with her, someone who didn’t have many female friends.

  “As for the club, try not to piss off Mama Bear, and you’ll be okay. You seem like a smart chick, so I’ll leave the rest up to you. Use your head and you’ll fit in fine around here.”

  Her husband got off his bar stool and strode over to a spot at the bar, signaling with his hand to get Jenny’s attention. “Hey wifey, get that sweet little ass of mine over here on my lap.” His roar echoed through the lodge amidst their friends’ and families’ laughter. “Now, woman!”

  “Looks like I’m wanted elsewhere. You know the drill. I’ll see you around.”

  Jenny gave Sabrina a secretive, saucy smile, then she turned and headed toward her man. There was no reason to point out that in reality, Sabrina didn’t know the drill at all. She tossed back a third of the beer, and as she lowered her sweaty bottle, a familiar male hand plucked it out of her palm and put it on a random table.

  “Hey, I wasn’t done with that…”

  Silas didn’t say a word, but judging by his impatient look, he was hiding a whole lot of something else he wanted to tell her. It didn’t look good, so she let the beer theft slide in favor of keeping the peace between them.

  “Follow me.” He nodded his head in the direction of the stairs, and she followed him up.

  So what if it was a valid excuse to admire his tight, perfect ass?

  “Admit it, big guy. You ran out of pet names, didn’t you?”

  “Hardly, dollface.” He smirked over his shoulder and went down a narrow hallway, opening one of the doors on the right. “The bathrooms are on the other end of the hall when you need it. Make yourself at home in this room for now. I’ll be out here waiting.”

  “Awww, how sweet.” She fluttered her eyelashes and frowned with a roll of her eyes.

  “You have a heck of a lot of attitude. I can appreciate that.”

  “I look like I care what you appreciate, don’t I?” Sabrina grinned, pressing in close to him so she could get through the slightly cracked door. She didn’t keep that smile on her face for long, though. Her breasts brushed against his upper abdomen, and the sensation had her half-lidded and wet, with her nipples already hardening through the thin material of her dress. Before she could move away, his hand shot around her wrist and yanked her in closer. She gasped at the sharp contact, his fingers burning into the sensitive flesh of her inner wrist. Neither of them moved an inch. Both remained locked in a tension-fueled stalemate. She sensed his stare on the top of her head but was too stubborn to look at him—and too amped up with raw need, if she were honest.

  “If you know what’s good for you, I wouldn’t wake the beast.” He pressed in closer, stepping her backward until her ass was pressed up against to the door jamb. His muscled thigh lingered between her legs, and his hard cock nudged her belly.

  Feels like I already woke it.

  This was going way too far, but hell, she had a hard time stopping herself. She was frantic to get into the room and away from his dizzying gravitational pull that practically shut down her mind from rational thought. Sabrina groaned, trying to come up with a witty way to get him to back off. Some distance would subdue the sexual fantasies winding their way through her blurred vision at light speed. She swallowed and tried again. Meanwhile his encroaching heat only grew hotter against her aroused flesh.

  “You’re burning up,” she croaked as his fingers idly traced the bare line of her collarbone along the halter neckline of her dress. Her eyes closed at the butterfly soft touch. How was it possible for someone so big, tough and badass to be so gentle?

  Silas grunted, and his other arm tightened even more around her waist, drawing her impossibly close.

  “I…I don’t…understand…” she muttered. She couldn’t remember the last time a man’s hands had such an effect on her because nothing like this ever happened to her body just from someone’s touch.

  He ground his hips forward so his cock rubbed against her abdomen. There was no holding back her breathy sigh as e
very part of her body went on high alert. She was still clutching the bundle of his clothes to her side with one hand, and her purse with the other. That left no barrier between them to keep her sane—other than the faraway knowledge that she didn’t know this man from a hole in the ground.

  “Fuck,” he moaned.

  Christ, that small, deep sound made her skin prickle with pent-up pleasure. Without thinking, her right hand fell from her tight hold on his clothes, dropping it altogether when he wound his fingers into her hair and tugged her head backward. The sound of the garments hitting the floor must have brought him back to sanity. Silas leaped back into the hallway as if she’d pulled a knife on him. A coldness invaded her body from the void created by the abrupt absence of his contact. It left her numb and unsteady. Her eyes shot open, lips slightly parted and desperately trying to regain some control even when she still couldn’t feel her legs.

  Silas cleared his throat nervously, and Sabrina snuck a glance at him as he adjusted himself in his pants, looking away. Taking the opportunity, she quickly picked up the spare clothes and slipped into the bedroom. It wasn’t until the door was shut that she thought she heard his low, haunted apology through the thick walnut wood.

  9

  Silas

  Jesus H. Christ, that interaction was too damn close for comfort. He’d almost mauled the woman. It had taken every ounce of willpower to keep his paws from making Sabrina drop to her knees before him so her lovely little mouth could glide up and down his shaft.

  “Oh God,” Silas groaned at the visual in his head. Hell, his eyes nearly rolled into the back of his skull. Silas was seconds away from losing his mind. He half-considered going back to the bar and taking one of the twisted claws to a spare room so he could get his mind off what just happened.

  Yes, it was time to go in search of something to get his ill-timed behavior under control. He’d never been nearly as attracted to any woman as he was to this pretty little high society minx. His cock throbbed, jerking against his fly as he fought the urge to go right back to her. No way was he doing that. Touching himself was not an option either. And why was his pulse beating so hard in his throat that his windpipe could seal shut?

  His shifter hearing remained trained on the sounds coming from the other side of her door, while the rest of him agonized over the thousands of things he wanted to do to her trim, toned body. He heard the rasp of her dress going down her legs and the fabric pooling at her feet. When she held out his sweatpants and shook them before putting them on, he let out a growl deep in his chest. He was helpless against the idea of her wearing his clothes, their scents mingling together—

  “Silas?” her small voice called out through the door.

  It took him three tries to make a coherent noise that wouldn’t come out like a feral roar. That hundred percent human Sabrina probably didn’t need to hear him snarl at the moment. Or ever.

  “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for the clothes.”

  His tension deflated against the hallway, although his boner still hurt like a son of a bitch. He was almost sorry for the missed opportunity. “You’re screwed in the head, motherfucker.”

  “What was that?” Sabrina called.

  “Uh, nothing. Don’t worry about the clothes.”

  Silence.

  “You okay in there?”

  More silence.

  Okay, he needed to ease off. She was probably checking her makeup or something. No biggie. So why did he want to rip the door off its hinges and charge through the room so he could get a glimpse of her face? He banged the back of his head against the wall a few times. The pain didn’t dilute the urgent need that was running hot through his veins like fire. There was something about her…she just fit.

  Whoa, I’ve officially hit the Lifetime channel’s pussy-whipped status.

  Time to ditch the remote and make a quick exit.

  So why am I not moving?

  Fuck.

  “Sabrina!” He pivoted around, banging on the door with a fist. He winced when he noticed the crack in the paint and a few tiny fissures springing up in the wood where his hand made contact. His shifter strength was a bitch when he wasn’t in control. “You haven’t passed out in there, have you?”

  “I'm all right, Silas.”

  Her voice came through the door, and his whole body exhaled as a giant chunk of tension flooded out of his system. Too bad it did nothing to subdue his erection.

  “What are you doing in there, duchess? Writing me a thank-you card?”

  There was a sarcastic huffing noise from the other side of the door. He grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. Still fidgety, he riffled through his pockets and waited. Then he popped a mint into his mouth and snagged a cigarette from his pack. That was nervous energy. It kind of canceled out the mint, but the more he had to do with his mouth, the better. Better to keep his thoughts on anything other than what he could do with his lips after he’d ripped his sweatpants off her sweet little ass and went south of the border. He vaguely wondered what she’d taste like and gulped, closing his eyes to suppress the thought.

  Bad idea.

  A vision of her naked body sprawled out on the flannel sheets of his king-size bed nearly brought him to his knees, and his inner bear stood at attention with a bass roar that took his breath away. He bet her nipples would be perky and pink, dainty…fucking hot.

  Dammit.

  This was fucking hopeless.

  “Silas, do you make a habit of rescuing women? Is this like a stray puppy kind of thing, or am I your first unwilling captive at the clubhouse?”

  Silas jerked back away from the wall at the sound of her voice, as though he’d been caught doing something nasty. He brushed at his face, yelping in surprise when he realized he’d forgotten about the cigarette jammed between his lips. The damn thing and sent sparks and ash raining down all over his boots and the wooden hallway floor.

  “Smooth, real smooth,” he muttered. The smoke was still between his lips as he stamped out any possible embers that could lead to a hell of a lot of embarrassment.

  “Sorry, what?” she asked.

  He got himself together again, taking one last, long drag of smoke into his lungs so he could focus.

  “Uh, give me a sec,” he breathed out with the smoke, stepping down the hall to discard of the cigarette butt before returning to her door. “I don’t make a habit of it, sugar…or of talking to chicks through a closed doorway.”

  Pleasing the hell out of their bodies is a different story.

  He kept that bit to himself, savoring the mixture of mint and nicotine on his tongue. Mints always made the beast inside of him take a beat. He’d never questioned it. Just kept a tin of mints in his leathers at all times.

  “Well,” she said, popping her freshly scrubbed face out the now half-open door with a mischievous grin. “Maybe you weren’t raised by wolves after all.”

  Wolves, no.

  Bears, yes.

  Sabrina looked completely different without makeup. Younger. Happier. Still sexy as hell. A part of him wanted to think he had something to do with those vibes she was putting out there for him to pick up.

  “You good?”

  He took a deep breath, which was the wrong thing to do because he caught a whiff of their scents mixed together on his clothes. Woodsy floral and musk. A clear image of sunshine streaming through a wooded glade tunneled to the forefront of his mind. Her naked figure frolicking through low-hanging branches, with him in light pursuit. Her ass bent over a log as he pounded into her from behind, both of his hands grasping her perky, perfect breasts. The little giggle she’d make when he slapped her ass.

  Sabrina. Hot. Wet. Calling his name.

  She should not have opened the door. His first instinct was to push her back into the bedroom and get her down on the bed. He even took two huge steps forward so they were inches apart before he registered what he’d done. She was looking up at him with a question mark on her face, eyes wide, and her lovely lips slightl
y parted until she took a step back again.

  “Yo-you-your eyes…” she stuttered.

  There wasn’t time to answer her, or do anything else for that matter.

  A loud rumble burst through the clubhouse, making the whole foundation quake and undulate beneath their feet. An explosion? Both of them were jolted forward. Following his instincts, he dragged her down to the carpet, covering her small body with his as a shield. Sharp staccato bursts of shattering glass coming from somewhere on the compound made his ears ring. Shrill screams came from downstairs.

  “Oh God…” she cried out beneath him. “This can’t be happening already.”

  10

  Silas

  “We’re okay. You’re good. We’re golden,” he kept repeating.

  It was nonsense. Sabrina was still trembling beneath him. Her small hands dug into his shirt, pawing at his chest for some sense of security. He readjusted to the vertigo that hung around after the shaking stopped, bunching his shoulders into a knot. He thought of getting up to check thing out, but something kept him from moving. For a second he questioned his instincts, imagining it was because he couldn’t loosen his tight hold around her waist without making sure she was good.

  That was not it.

  Another explosion rattled the far end of the clubhouse.

  It wasn’t over.

  “Shhh.” He absently tried to soothe her tiny, fearful shrieks while his eyes roamed over her body for any sign of injury. “It’s going to be okay, Sabrina.”

  Yeah right.

  What was fucked up was Silas didn’t know whether she was more freaked because of the attack, or the beast that she’d seen behind his eyes. He didn’t know which one made him more anxious either.

  “Are you okay? You’re not hurt anywhere? I don’t see anything…”

  She sniffled, clawing at his shirt until he rolled off of her and pulled her up to sit. “I’m fine. What was that?”