Outlaw Love: A Biker Erotic Romance

by A. L. Summers

  This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.

  Outlaw Love copyright @ 2014 by A. L. Summers. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.

  OUTLAW LOVE

  “Lina, we’ve got a new one for you!” Lina--Paulina Rogers, as her mother still called her--couldn’t believe she still got the rush of excitement that came from opening a new case. It was a new chapter of a book, a fresh page in a journal. It was a chance to solve a mystery, setting a family at ease or putting a killer behind bars. Most people avoided death, and they definitely avoided dead bodies. She figured that they didn’t know what they were missing. She had worked in the medical field right out of college and realized it wasn’t the life for her. Granted, working in the morgue wasn’t the norm, but she rather liked it.

  She prepared the new file and went in to view the body. She took down the physical details first, precision-fast as they came to her. Caucasian. 6’3”. 224 pounds. Brown hair. Brown eyes. Large scar running bilaterally from shoulder to forearm, looked to be a cut by a metal object, such as a knife, pre-mortem. Three circular scars, uniform, to the right wrist. Cigarette burns, pre-mortem. Nose broken and set at least twice, pre-mortem. Facial hair. Nicotine stains on right hand. One bullet hole to the front of the skull with massive internal brain damage, likely cause of death.

  She spent the next two days examining Evan Black, the body on her table. She told the office to contact the next of kin. They could formally ID the body at their convenience. The cops had said he was a known drug dealer. Someone had “popped” him while he was trying to make an extra buck. No one deserved to die, but this was not a death she would lose sleep over.

  Lina sent the tox screen and blood results to the lab and went to work on another case.

  It was later in the day when she returned to the cold room to finish her work on the body. She went to swipe her badge and noticed a man pacing back and forth, just a few feet away from the “guest access” phone. His back was to her. He was big, much taller than her and she was already tall at 5’8”. He wore a leather motorcycle jacket with “Black Death Motorcycle Club” embossed with a skull and two roses. She had never been the biker type, probably because she saw way too many of their kind on her table.

  She reached out to touch his arm and inquire why he was down here; but, he spun before she could say anything. She wasn’t expecting it and started to lose her balance. He caught her by the forearms and pulled her straight. She laughed breathlessly and opened her mouth to apologize. Then, she promptly lost her breath completely.

  He was gorgeous. Dangerous, but gorgeous. His jet black hair carelessly flipped up in the front and his eyes were dark. He had sharp cheek bones and a jutting jaw. His eyelashes made her jealous. She started to feel the blazing heat of his hands through her thin shirt.

  “I’m sorry. I was just going to ask you if you needed help with something.” Lina tried to cover up the awkward moment in a regular, run-of-the-mill offer for help. He didn’t respond. He just kept watching her.

  “Are you here to see someone?” She put a friendly tone into her voice, assuming he was probably here to ID one of his friends.

  “Yes,” he responded. His voice was deep and resonated down the hallway.

  “Ah. Well, I’m sorry for your loss. It’s never easy to let go of someone you care about. Do you know who you’re supposed to report to? Who’s handling your…case?” Lina flipped through her staff directory chart with each body assignation.

  “Logan Black. Here to ID Evan Black.” Lina looked up in surprise. This guy sure didn’t look like the usual drug dealer type. Same last name, so it must be family.

  “Then, you’ve found the right person,” she said. “I’ve had a couple days to review the body and I ran dental and fingerprint records. Because he was in the system before, they had his fingerprints on file. All I need at this point is for you to tell me anything you know about his death, so I can connect it with the evidence from the body. Then, we can find some justice.”

  She noticed a glazed-over look in his eyes and sympathized. “I know this is not a fun place to be. You won’t enjoy seeing him this way. If this happened to me, I’d like to think that I would want someone to find out who murdered me. I try and do the same for each victim I’m called in for.”

  She swiped her badge and opened the door to pass through.

  “Lina!” She paused in the doorway and looked back toward the receptionist, Kate.

  “You have a call and he says it’s urgent. His name is Mike; but, that’s all the information he would give me.” Kate motioned towards a phone on a nearby desk where she could see a red light flashing. She sighed. There was only one “Mike.” It had to be her ex-boyfriend from over a year ago. He never really moved on and he was becoming increasingly persistent…and not in a good way.

  She looked at Logan Black, who gave her an imperceptible nod. She grabbed the telephone quickly.

  Logan watched the woman take the call at the desk closest to them. Of all the terrible things he had to deal with today – the call from the hospital saying his brother had been shot and was dead, the never ending phone calls he kept getting from other clubs, his club, friends, and enemies – this was the only good thing he was forced to deal with. She was sexy as hell. He enjoyed watching her prop her pert little butt up on the desk and answer the call.

  She was tall, he liked that. He hated having to bend down to talk to a woman, even though that was usually the case. From what he could see under her lab coat, she was long and lean, with an armful of curves. He followed the motion of her lips as she spoke agitatedly into the phone. They were red and lush. He knew that if they were in a different situation, he’d be more than willing to taste those lips.

  In between his inner battle of whether or not her deep auburn hair was real or dyed, he caught bits and pieces of her conversation. He heard “Mike” said repeatedly. Then, he watched her go from annoyed to angry. He thought he saw fear flash over her face once.

  He reminded himself it was none of his business. He knew nothing about this woman except that she was going to help find his brother’s killer. He knew he was still in shock over hearing that his brother was dead. He also knew he wasn’t in the right frame of mind logically to start going over the facts of the case. He hoped she knew what she was doing.

  He was brought back to the present by the slam of the phone back into its cradle. He looked inquisitively at her; but, she just shook her head and pasted on a smile.

  “Sorry about that. I’m ready to take you in now. Please make sure not to touch the body, as we haven’t ruled out any contaminants quite yet. The bullet did the majority of the damage, but there was something in his blood that didn’t allow his blood to clot. While the bullet was the cause of death, it didn’t cause the speed of the death, if that makes sense. There was an accelerant and we need to find out what that was. In the meantime, I don’t want you contracting something off the body.” Lina walked through the room, rattling off instructions until they stopped in front of a body covered with a sheet.

  Logan knew this was the part where he was supposed to raise the sheet, but he just couldn’t do it. It was one thing to hear that his brother had been shot. It was another to look into his cold dead eyes and know he was never coming back.

  His brother had been his one and only family member since t
hey had both been taken from their abusive father and prostitute mother. He had protected him since they were kids. He wasn’t ready to admit he had failed.

  Lina saw his hesitance and she looked down in empathy. She guessed that this was his brother and they were obviously very close. This was the part of her job she hated, but she knew it had to be done before they could figure out what had happened.

  She lifted the top of the sheet and folded it down below his chest. The bullet had done some skull damage, but most of his face was intact. She saw Logan steel himself and gave him credit for trying to remain strong. She’d be a basket case by now.

  After a few minutes went by. She began to question him on his brother’s relationships, occupation, and any enemies he might have made. Logan was honest, but his answers were clipped. He wasn’t avoiding the questions, but definitely wasn’t giving more information that she asked for.

  She jotted down careful notes, realizing that he had plenty of enemies and the usual drug-deal-gone-bad motive for murder. Drug lords, dealers, and users were never easy people to track down and there were plenty of each in this city.

  Lina called his attention to a couple different things on his body where she wanted answers. There were a couple of odd tattoos. The scar on his arm turned out to be from a knife years ago. Then, she turned his wrist over to show him the circular markings. She saw him stiffen. She asked the question again and his eyes rose to hers. She saw the sheen of tears and she felt numb. They must have been very close to bring this tough, big man down to his knees with grief. She panicked, not knowing what she could do in a moment like this for a man like him.

  She reached for his arm and slid her fingers down to curl around his. They were strong, coarse, and very warm. She opened up her fingertips and linked in between his. He squeezed once in acknowledgement and they stood like that for a few silent moments.

  He didn’t know why he felt the need to share with her the memories of their childhood. He never felt the urge before. Normally, he left everything locked down deep. He never let other people in. There was something about this moment and this woman that made him suddenly want to tell her everything. He told her about their father, who would beat their mother for being a lying bitch. He told her that the man would then turn on himself or Evan and knock them around. He told her about his mother who would frequently have “friends” stop in, sometimes three or four at a time. They had to go play outside when that happened, even when it was snowing or raining or one of the boys was sick.

  He told her about his battle with drugs when he was younger. He also told how he only sold now so he could try to regulate the industry so kids couldn’t buy drugs in this city. He explained how he got his brother involved in the local dealing, while he had stayed “above” it all in his big fancy office and all of his political dealings. He spoke of how he couldn’t protect the one thing that had needed protection, the one thing in this world he valued.

  He didn’t know how long he was in there, but his voice was croaking. The striking woman in the white lab coat combed her fingers through his hair, while he rested his head against her shoulder. He could get lost in that feeling, in that comforting motion. It was something he missed out on when he was a kid. He breathed deep, inhaling a soft fragrance that smelled of woman and fruit.

  He turned his head slightly, pressing his lips against her neck. He felt her pulse quicken against his mouth and wondered if she would think him insane. He felt her fingers tighten against his nape. He took the hand that she still clasped and positioned it behind her back so that his hand dwarfed hers, pressed against her lower back. He traveled up her neck, kissing that spot where her jaw met her neck, and then up to her ear lobe. Finally, he pressed a kiss at the corner of her mouth. He heard her quick gasp right before he planted his lips firmly against hers.

  He expected her to fight him, to push him off, to call him crazy. Instead, she responded as eagerly as he did. She met him each time he withdrew to take a breath, pulling his head down to hers. He felt his hardness press against her belly, he knew that she felt it also. With his free hand, he splayed his hand across her covered breast. She moaned. The sound startled them both.

  He withdrew and she backed up against the wall. He saw her look of astonishment and her hand flew up to her mouth. He instantly felt disgusted with himself. Not even four feet away was his dead brother and all he could think about was getting in her pants.

  “I’m sorry, I…” Logan started, before dying off, not sure what to say.

  “It’s okay,” she hurried, “it’s a natural part of the grieving process.”

  “You and I both know that had nothing to do with grief, sweetheart.” Logan quirked up one side of a smile and she had to admit he was right. In all her time doing this, not once had a victim’s family ever kissed her. The occasional ass grab, maybe even a groping hug…but nothing like this. She could still feel the imprint of his lips against hers. He tasted of whiskey and man. She knew she was addicted already.

  “I’m Lina, by the way. Paulina Rogers. Figured you should know my name now. Well, I think I have enough inform--”

  A blast of fiery heat cut her off. It hit both of them and threw them against the back wall. Her head knocked into the handle of one of the iced body drawers and black spots danced before her eyes. She heard his voice, but it seemed like it was very far away. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

  Logan shook her again. He hoped that there was no spinal damage. He figured she had a concussion from the knock she just took, but her eyelids kept fluttering closed.

  He looked around the room, but there was really not much left. The blast singed or incinerated everything. Only the steel body carts protected them. He had a burn across both forearms from resting against the hot metal. He tried to keep the metal from burning her. His gut sank the minute he realized that, whatever had happened, his brother had clearly been the target. The place where his body had been was not reduced to ash. The black stains around that area indicated that was where the fire started. He figured someone either shot in the explosive material or placed it on his brother’s body. Either thought made him sick.

  He looked over at his companion and saw her eyes were closed again. He shook her shoulders and her eyes blinked open. He looked into them for a few moments, stunned by how emerald and pure they were. She mumbled something, but he couldn’t hear what it was.

  “We need to get out of here. Whatever the reason for setting this place on fire, I don’t want you here as a target. I’m taking you to the hospital,” he ordered, pulling himself upright.

  “No hospital,” she insisted. “I just need to sleep….”

  Logan laughed. “Yeah, there’s no way that’s going to happen, sweetheart. Either you go to the hospital now or you stay at my place. I know my way around a concussion. There’s no chance I’m letting you go home to fall into a coma with no one around.”

  “Fine. Your place.” Logan blinked in surprise. He hadn’t actually thought she’d agree to that. He just accosted her and then the room was set on fire. Did she really trust him or really not trust him? He realized it didn’t much matter, as long as she let him make sure she was alright.

  He reached down and grabbed her under her knees and behind her back. Then, he lifted her into his arms. Her heard her giggle and made a mental note to ask her about that later. He strode out of the room and into the parking lot. Walking up to the only bike in the parking lot, he put her down only to get on and then help her get her leg across. He started up the bike, kicked up the kickstand, and drove a couple of blocks to his house.

  Lina started to rethink the whole biker thing. There was something incredibly sexy about a man in control on the back of a Harley. She loved that his bike was simple and black, no ornate carvings or tassels hanging from the handlebars. It sounded like thunder, and she winced, putting her hand up to her head. She felt his hand on her thigh and knew without words that he was checking to see if she was alright. After a few moments t
he shooting pain stopped and she was able to look around.

  Surprisingly, they were in the good part of town. They were fairly close to the morgue. When he pulled up a long driveway, she realized he was not the simple biker that he pretended to be. The house was huge, an immense Tudor style home with immaculately kept grounds and a big wrought iron fence. They pulled around to the back garage. When the carriage-style door opened, she saw that not only was he into bikes, but he had an assortment of vehicles to choose from. She noted a big black Dodge Ram truck, a Cadillac CTS-V, and a Jeep Patriot. She saw several other bikes, all black and clean.

  He pulled on her hand after they parked, tugging her inside. She caught glimpses of granite countertops and cherry cabinets. Then, they were inside his bathroom. He lifted her up and onto the counter in what must be the master bathroom. He stood in front of the sink next to her and moistened a washcloth. Then, he gently wiped away the residue from the fire and some blood that streaked down to her eye.

  She closed her eyes, breathing in his scent and getting lost in the feeling of being taken care of. She realized she knew nothing about him, but she trusted him and she didn’t want to leave. She lifted an arm and pressed her hand into his hand, as he washed her face. Her other hand reached forward and caught his belt loop. She tugged him closer, until her legs were straddling his and he was pressed against the countertop.