Dark Redemption

by Barron, Melinda

  “I’m sure. He was a doctor at the hospital, one of our best. He gave it up, though, because it took up too much of his time. He’s now a physical therapist. And he’s single.” Margaret wiggled her eyebrows and wagged her tongue.

  “Did you bring me here to fix me up, or to help me sell a motorcycle?”

  “Double duty. I told him you were minus a boyfriend and loved to ride. He’s intrigued.”

  “Did you tell him I’m fat?”

  “You know I hate that word, and you are not fat. You’re voluptuous. Listen, Luce, he’s a cool guy. Give him a chance. Getting laid might improve your attitude toward life.”

  “My attitude is fine, thank you very much. And what makes you think I’d sleep with this guy at the drop of a hat?”

  “Your attitude’s fine? Let’s examine the evidence. Who just got written up at work for yelling at a customer? Who turns down every dinner invitation she gets? Who hasn’t been to a movie, play, or party in more than a year? Don’t say it’s because you’re upset about Craig, because this started way before he died. You let Brandon get to you. Admit it.”

  Tatum fought to keep her temper under control. Margaret was right, for sure, but having it pointed out grated on her nerves.

  “He was my husband, Margaret. He left me with a crap load of bills. The only way I’ve been able to dig myself out is by selling Craig’s bikes. Now I have to sell the one I wanted to keep. And I’m here now, aren’t I?”

  “Only because there’s the chance you could sell the bike. If I hadn’t dangled that little tidbit in front of you, you’d be at home. Admit it. You can’t keep yourself inside a bubble anymore.”

  “You’re a witch.” Tatum shook her head and wrinkled her nose. She knew that Margaret was right, but she didn’t want to hear it. It had been well over a year since she and Brandon had divorced. It was time to move on. The problem, however, was Tatum didn’t think she would be able to. Brandon had put a stake through her heart and left a huge hole in the center of it.

  “Look, I’m not asking you to fall in love with Knox. I’m just asking you to give yourself a chance to have an orgasm with something that’s not battery operated.”

  “Hey, little George and I get along just great. He never talks back, and he always hits just the right spots.”

  “Yeah, but you can’t cuddle with him afterwards.”

  “Brandon never wanted to cuddle, either. And George hasn’t walked out on me yet.”

  Margaret shook her head and waved toward a crowd of people. Tatum turned to watch the man who now moved toward them.

  “Holy crap. You didn’t tell me he was Hector reborn.” Well over six feet tall, with black, wavy hair that hit his shoulders. His eyes were a deep green. He had a neatly trimmed beard and mustache that gave him a very rugged look. She guessed he weighed about two hundred twenty pounds, but it seemed to be all muscle.

  There was a grin on his face, and he winked at her.

  “Hi. Knox Keaton.” He held out his hand.

  “Tatum Jensen.” His hand swallowed hers and Tatum quickly pulled it away. A confused look flittered across his face, and then he smiled.

  “So, you’ve got a 2000 Indian you’re wanting to get rid of?”

  “It’s more of a necessity than a want. It’s out front.” Tatum smiled at Margaret, then started toward the gate, praying that Knox wasn’t measuring her hips as she walked. Margaret was right. He was gorgeous. “It’s a five speed, black and red, decked out with lots of chrome. It’s a v-twin, and it drives like a dream.”

  Tatum turned to see his face as the bike came into view. The grin that had been there earlier now stretched from ear to ear.

  “I’ll take it. But we need to talk about that asking price. You know as well as I do that you inflated it.”

  “Don’t you want to look it over first? Take it for a spin? I promise you it’s worth every penny that I’m asking.”

  He cocked his head and shook it slowly from side to side. “I’m willing to go as high as twenty thousand, maybe twenty and a half.”

  “Oh please, you’re wasting my time.”

  Knox walked to the bike and stroked the gleaming metal. His fingers strayed to the leather seat and Tatum felt herself go weak in the knees. It was as if he were stroking a lover. An image of him stroking her hips while she straddled the bike slipped into her mind. She bit her lip to stifle a moan as he stroked the fins.

  When he threw his leg over the machine and gripped the handlebars, she let the moan escape. This man was made for this bike. He looked like a Greek god straddling a horse, ready to go into battle.

  “Key?”

  She put it in his outstretched hand. The engine roared to life.

  “This baby purrs like a kitten. Hop on.”

  “No, you go ahead. I don’t ride bitch very well.”

  “Really? We’ll have to work on that. We’ll just take it around the block. Besides, what if I try to steal it? Hop on.”

  The idea was tempting. It had been years since she’d taken the submissive position on a motorcycle. She’d been riding since she was nine, and now, at age thirty-one, it had been at least eleven years since she’d ridden behind anyone.

  “I’m not sure I’d know what to do anymore.”

  “All you have to do is let me sit between your thighs. I’ll do the rest.” The look on his face made the proposition take on a positively nasty tone, and Tatum loved it.

  “That sounds incredibly dangerous. And incredibly…” Tatum pursed her lips together to keep the word sensual from pouring forth. She could tell from the look on his face that he knew exactly what she was thinking.

  “Come on, one little spin; then we can talk money.” He pushed her helmet toward her. She strapped it on and threw her left leg behind him. The seat was higher in the back, but still, he rested perfectly between her thighs.

  Tatum felt a stirring inside her that she hadn’t felt in a year. Her nipples tightened and her clit twitched. This is a bad idea. Get off! Get off!

  He pushed backwards, his ass coming into contact with her upper thighs. The tingle spread through her body. Idiot! Get off now. Two more seconds like this and you’ll be flat on your back before nightfall.

  She moved her feet to the ground, then jerked them back on the footrests when Knox released the clutch, turned the bike, and took off down the street.

  Tatum put her hands on his waist, which was firm under her touch. When he got to the end of the block, he turned left onto a main road.

  Tatum leaned in toward his ear. “This is more than around the block,” she yelled.

  He answered by shrugging his shoulders and she felt him shake with laughter. She knew that just like her, he was in love with the Indian. When they pulled up to a light, he turned toward her.

  “Twenty.”

  “No way. Twenty-five.”

  “OK, twenty-one.”

  “No, I’ll go as low as twenty-four.”

  Knox winked at her again, then took off as the light turned green.

  The vibrations from the motorcycle, coupled with the warmth of a hunky man between her thighs, lulled Tatum into a dreamy state. Little George might have to have a rest tonight.

  She leaned into Knox, her breasts pressing into his back. From the way he straightened up and pushed backwards, she knew that he appreciated the feel of her against him. Maybe, just maybe, she would let her guard down and enjoy Knox’s company, for just one night. The idea of having a real flesh-and-blood cock inside her had definite appeal.

  Tatum pushed the idea out of her head. There was no way she was falling into bed with this man. He’d just use her and abuse her, the way Brandon had. She pushed back gently, aware that this seat didn’t have back support for the rider.

  A few blocks up, he pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store. Knox parked the bike at the end of the lot and turned off the engine.

  He twisted in his seat so he could look her in the eye.

  “How about we split the difference and go
for twenty-two and a half.”

  “Cash?”

  “I can have the money wire transferred to you tomorrow, if you can have the title for me at the same time.”

  “I can do that.”

  Knox stuck out his hand. This time, Tatum took it and didn’t pull back. He grinned at her and she nodded, fighting the inner war that waged inside her.

  Chapter 2

  Knox slipped the truck into park and exited the cab. He looked for Tatum but didn’t see her. He was sure she’d said to meet him in the parking lot, and not in the bank.

  A check of his watch showed he was about ten minutes early. He wondered if he was anxious to purchase the bike, or to see Tatum again. He decided it was a bit of both, heavy on the Tatum side.

  Her behavior last night had mystified him. When she’d leaned into him on the bike, he’d known she was aroused. He could feel it in the way her body rested against his. Damn, he’d been hard since the minute he’d seen her walk into Margaret’s backyard.

  Medium height and curvy, with long auburn hair that she’d pulled back into a braid for riding. Her lips were full and very, very kissable. Of course he’d fantasized about them doing other things to him last night. His cock had been hard all through the ride, and after getting home, he’d had to take matters into his own hands. The fantasy of Tatum in front of him, her lips wrapped around him, had fueled the fire.

  She would be the perfect little sub, if he could just get her to open up and trust him. When he’d heard about her ex, and about her mother’s six marriages, he knew exactly where the hesitancy to let anyone new into her life came from. He had a few plans to work on that. Tatum was definitely someone he wanted to get to know better.

  He leaned against the truck and waited. About five minutes later she pulled into the lot in an SUV that he knew probably cost her a pretty penny. What did Margaret say that she did? He racked his brain, and then snapped his fingers. She worked at a garden shop, one of many scattered around the New Mexico area. He couldn’t believe that she could afford such a high-priced machine on her salary.

  She parked next to him and smiled tentatively as she exited the car.

  “You’re early,” she said, and he took advantage of the time to watch her walk toward him. He used his doctor’s training to pin her at about a size sixteen. She had large breasts and hips, with a smaller waist. A perfect hourglass figure. He felt his cock harden again.

  “I’m anxious. Nice truck.”

  “It was Craig’s. It’s paid for, and mine wasn’t. So I sold mine and kept his.”

  “Wow. What did he do for a living?”

  “Delivery man for a trucking service.”

  Knox’s eyebrows shot up and Tatum laughed.

  “He also played poker at the casinos, quite successfully.”

  “Ah, I see. He must have been pretty good at it.”

  “He was. Shall we go inside?”

  Knox nodded, then took her elbow as they walked across the parking lot. He felt her tense up, but she didn’t try and pull away. That was a start. She’d left Margaret’s house minutes after they’d returned from his test drive. She didn’t even stay for the food, which surprised him. He’d been hoping to use that time to get to know her better.

  They concluded their transaction very quickly, he transferring the funds and she signing over the title. Once it was completed, she planned to go with him to the DMV to make sure there were no hold-ups, since she’d signed a title with Craig’s name on it.

  “Okay, I have the death certificate, and my power of attorney and the will. Let’s go and change it over.”

  “Sounds good to me. Can I treat you to dinner tonight? Although, after the wad of cash you just received it should be the other way around.” He was grateful to see a smile crack through her hardened exterior.

  “Thanks, but I have other plans.”

  “Later in the week, then? Come on, I’ll drive the bike over and you can visit it. We’ll go for a ride and you can practice riding bitch. I know you didn’t want to get rid of it.”

  “You’re right, I didn’t. But I needed the money. I’ll think about the offer and let you know. We’d best get down to the tag office. The line there is usually horrendous.”

  “Fine, but you’re passing up a great deal. Trust me.”

  “Trust you? I’ve heard that line before.”

  “Yeah, but I’m a doctor.”

  * * *

  Tatum rolled the large clay pot onto the dolly, tied it down and wheeled it toward the tourist’s car. She could tell by looking at the vehicle that the woman’s trunk would not hold the pot and be able to close. Before she could voice her opinion the woman’s husband objected, saying that they would have to have the item shipped to their home in New York.

  “No way. I don’t trust those services.” The woman stomped her foot and put her hands on her hips.

  “Well, we could put it in the passenger’s seat and tie you to the roof.” The husband’s voice was harsh.

  Tatum bit her lip to hide a smile. It was obvious this couple had been on an extended trip and were getting on each other’s nerves. As they argued, she checked her watch. An hour and a half until Brownlee’s closed and she could jump on her Harley and go home.

  Thoughts of the motorcycle brought up an image of Knox Keaton. It had been four days since he’d purchased the Indian. He’d given her his card and said that she should call him. He’d made no bones about what she should call him for. She’d practically worn out George’s batteries thinking about his offer.

  The man was gorgeous. Even though he was a doctor, he hadn’t said anything about her needing to lose thirty pounds. Instead, he’d eyed her breasts and hips with appreciation. She’d been so very tempted to go home with him that day. Only the idea of being crapped on again held her back.

  She’d just started to help the customer’s husband load things from the trunk into the back seat when the distinct sound of the Indian reached her ears. She turned and watched Knox pilot the bike next to her own, park it and take off his helmet. Their gazes locked as he unzipped his jacket. He licked his lips and ran his fingers through his hair. And Tatum almost had an orgasm on the spot.

  “Watch it! You drop that and you’ll buy us another one!” The annoying husband shot her an angry look.

  “Sorry, sorry.” She bit back a nasty retort, grabbed the pot and lifted it into the trunk. The husband scoffed at her and was still arguing with his wife when their car drove off.

  Knox had propped himself against his bike, watching her carefully as she walked toward him. He looks at me like he knows what I look like naked. And why am I suddenly wet? You know why, Tatum. George just isn’t going to hack it for you tonight.

  “Hi. You put a new seat on the bike. Cool.”

  “Yeah, it’s got support for my rider. Which hopefully will be you. When do you get off?”

  “A little over an hour.” Her stomach rolled and her clit twitched. It wasn’t a bad feeling, except that Tatum knew that Knox knew the effect that he had on her.

  “Good. Meet me at the picnic area about twenty minutes from here, off I-25 on the way to Albuquerque. You know where I’m talking about?”

  Tatum nodded.

  “I’ll meet you there after you get off work. Don’t be late.”

  He stood and strapped on his helmet.

  “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”

  “Well, you didn’t call me back, so I figured I’d have to dangle a carrot in front of your nose.”

  Tatum’s brow furrowed. “What carrot?”

  “Something I found taped to the underside of the seat when I changed it out. I’m guessing it belonged to Craig, and that you’d want it back.”

  “Yeah, I do. Just give it to me now instead of all this cloak and dagger stuff.”

  Knox straddled the bike and grinned. “I always loved detective shows. See ya’ in an hour and a half.”

  He revved the engine and drove off, leaving Tatum standing with her hands on her
hips, and a smart-ass answer on her lips.

  * * *

  She found the picnic site with little effort. It was back from the road, sitting in a copse of trees. Knox sat on the table, chewing on an apple. She parked and took off her helmet.

  “Can I have what you found?”

  “Nice to see you, too. Some fruit? I brought apples, pears and some grapes. I also bought some cheese and some green tea. I would have brought beer but I never drink and drive. I’ve stitched up too many wounds from the dumb asses who do.”

  Tatum hitched her rear onto the table and grabbed a pear. She took a bite and licked the juice from her chin.

  “What did you find?”

  “I’m not sure. I didn’t open it.”

  He pulled a letter-sized envelope from his pocket.

  Tatum took it and frowned. The number eight, followed by thirty-two in parenthesis, was in the left-hand corner. In the middle of the envelope Craig had written three-nine-seven-four. She tore open the seal and a key fell into her hands.

  “No markings,” she murmured. “I have no idea what this means.”

  “It means something, or else your uncle wouldn’t have hidden it on the bike. Do those numbers mean anything to you?”

  “Nothing. I’ve gone through everything that was in the safety deposit box, and in his house. The lawyer didn’t give me anything with this on it.”

  “Hmm, it’s a mystery, then. I’ll help you solve it, if you like.”

  Knox finished his apple, then threw the core into the trees. He picked up a pear and mimicked Tatum’s early movements. When his tongue touched the juice on his chin, she felt her knees weaken. She stared at the area his tongue had caressed, her mouth watering at the idea of tracing her tongue over the exact same spot.

  “I feel the same way, but you’re a tough nut to crack.” His voice was low and sensuous.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Tatum put the key in the envelope, folded it and put it in her back pocket.

  “Come on, the attraction between us is obvious. Why won’t you at least let me take you to dinner?”