by J. M. Walker
Stuffing the cloth in my back pocket, I left the room and bumped right into a wall of muscle. My body heated, my heart thumping hard. Every inch of me came alive.
“Whoa there.”
That voice. Deep and melodious. It slid over me like melted honey.
I looked up and up and found myself drowning in dark pools of black. I swallowed hard, and then again, and again. My throat went dry.
“You okay?” the man asked me, his hand sliding down my back to stop me from falling.
“Yes,” I whispered, my gaze dropping to his full mouth. I licked my lips, suddenly wondering what it would be like to taste him.
His nostrils flared, those eyes darkening even more.
I cleared my throat, stepping out of his embrace, and shook myself. My father would kill him if he saw him touching me. I didn’t need a stranger’s blood on my hands.
“Can you tell me where the office is?” the man asked me. “This place didn’t look so damn big from the outside but now I’m lost.” He ran a hand through his black hair, mussing it up even more. The smattering of gray showing through the dark beard on his jaw made me wonder just how old he was. But I found I didn’t care. He could be fifty and I would still find him attractive.
My cheeks burned. “Yeah. It’s this way.” I spun on my heel, needing to put some distance between us before I started humping his leg. Poor guy probably thought I was a nutcase or that I had never seen a man before. I had. I had seen lots of them. But none that looked like him.
“So … do you work here?”
I paused in my steps, glancing at the man over my shoulder. “Who’s asking?”
He chuckled, something flashing in his eyes. “I was just asking a question, beautiful. No need to get defensive.”
My heart jumped at the compliment. “You think I’m beautiful?”
“Uh …” His cheeks reddened. “Yeah.”
My lips pulled up into a grin at seeing him suddenly becoming shy. “Thank you.” I continued heading down the hall. “The office is this way.”
(Tray)
Fucking hell, she was stunning. Rosy cheeks. Dark eyes the color of milk chocolate. And caramel skin. When she bumped into me, I couldn’t help but notice the tiny freckles on her nose and cheeks. She was absolutely breathtaking.
This young, tiny, little thing stirred something inside of me that I had never felt before. Not with other women. Not even with Catch. It was something more. Something dark. Something feral.
The young woman’s black curly hair was piled high on her head. A smudge of what looked like grease sat just above her left eyebrow. It had taken everything in me not to wipe it off, but I knew if I touched her skin, I would be a dead man.
I wasn’t sure why she was at this garage, but I didn’t need to find out the hard way, either. Knowing my luck, she was the daughter of the president or some shit.
After my SUV broke down, I had it towed to this garage. It was the nearest one in miles or else I would have just taken it home. Home. I bit back a scoff. I didn’t have a home. Not one I visited often anyway. The clubhouse was where I laid my head every night but that was it. It wasn’t home.
The woman led me down another hallway before we finally ended up at what I could only assume was the back of the building. Voices carried from the next room over followed by the sounds of the air compressor and the clanging of every other tool known to man that was used to fix up vehicles.
We reached a door marked Office and I saw an older man standing inside with his back to us.
She opened the door. “Daddy, someone’s here to see you.”
Daddy? Like he was her ‘Daddy’ and she played his little girl for kink or was she in fact his kid?
The man turned.
My heart thumped, and the semi I was sporting deflated instantly.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
This woman was not only young, but she was the daughter of Nero Wolf. Known as Shadow on the streets. There was no question that they were related. Same caramel skin. Same black curly hair. Same fucking freckles. Last I heard, his daughter was just a kid. Although young, this woman was clearly no damn kid.
Only difference between them was the young woman’s eyes didn’t showcase years of pain, suffering, or even torture. Nero was lethal as fuck.
“Well, I’ll be. Tray Lister.” Shadow leaned against the wall, crossing his arms under his broad chest. His dark brows narrowed, his even darker eyes zeroing in on me. “I feel like you need something. What is it this time?” His thick South African accent slid over each syllable. I didn’t know what part of South Africa he was from, but rumors had it that he came from nothing. I couldn’t imagine the things he had seen but it still didn’t mean I liked him. Respected him yes, but we were far from besties.
“My SUV broke down,” I finally said.
Shadow laughed, the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes becoming more pronounced. Rubbing the dark scruff on his jaw, his brows narrowed. “You can leave,” he told his daughter. “Thank you.”
She nodded, brushing past me but not before I caught a whiff of her scent.
Apple pie. She smelled like a damn apple pie. And it took everything I was made of not to take a bite out of her.
The moment the door shut behind me, I let out a slow breath.
“Keep eye-fucking my daughter and you won’t need your SUV fixed.” Shadow sat his old body in the chair behind the desk.
I, on the other hand, only stood there. There was no way I would let him know that I had been checking her out. That for the first time in as long as I could remember, a woman finally got a reaction out of me. So what if it was a rival club member’s daughter. My dick sure didn’t seem to mind.
“What do you want?” Shadow asked, tenting his fingers under his chin.
“I told you. My SUV broke down. Trust me, if I didn’t have to be here, I wouldn’t.” How the hell we didn’t know this garage was property of Mayhem’s Revenge was beyond me.
“You’re not here on business?” he asked, leaning forward.
“No.” I looked down at myself before meeting his gaze. “Do you see me wearing my cut?” I left my cut in my vehicle. Because I was clearly the brightest motherfucker on this planet.
“Yeah. Why aren’t you wearing it? I’m sure Greyson will be so happy to hear about that.”
I bit back a curse. “Listen, are you going to help me or not?”
Greyson Mercer would get over it. Even though he was the president of our own MC, Hell’s Harlem, his temper had calmed down some since his wife gave birth to their son a year ago.
But Shadow was right. I still should have put on my vest.
“I’ll help you, but you owe me.” Shadow stood and came around the desk. “What are you doing in this area anyway?”
“Making a delivery.” I had visited the grave of a friend who died. But Shadow didn’t need to know that.
“Ah.” He clapped my shoulder, his dark eyes focusing on me. “I do have one demand, though.”
I waited, knowing what he was going to say before he even said it. “What?”
He smirked, a dimple popping in his cheek. “Stay away from my daughter.”
“HEY, Z.”
I turned, smiling as Ripper came toward me. “Hey. Dad’s in the office with…” Tray, God even his name did funny things to my belly, “…some guy.”
Ripper frowned, his gaze darting over my head. “Oh? Do you know who or why?”
I raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, because my dad was going to let me stay and listen in on their conversation.”
“True.” Ripper pushed a hand through his dark hair, pulling it back into a ponytail. “So, what are you doing out here? You know your dad will shit bricks if he sees you in the shop.”
“I’m not…” I glanced around me, realizing I was at the door leading to the shop where the guys worked on the cars and any other vehicle that came into the place.
I frowned. “I’m distracted it seems.”
“Why for, li
ttle one?” Ripper hooked a thick arm around my shoulders, the scent of leather invading my nose. “Is it a boy? Fuck I can’t wait for the day you bring a boy home to your dad.”
“You think I have a death wish?” I laughed. But there wasn’t a boy I was interested in. No. There was a man. I didn’t believe in love at first sight or any of that shit. I wasn’t like the girls I used to go to school with who fawned over any guy who looked at them. After my mom left when I was two, that fantasy went right along with her. And I never cared until now. I wondered what Tray would feel like. Taste like. Something fluttered in my lower belly. Get it together, Zillah.
“You have a crush.” Ripper poked me in the ribs. “Don’t you?”
“No, I don’t.” I giggled, slapping his hand away. “If my dad sees you touching me, he’ll chop off your fingers.”
“You bet your fucking ass I will.”
I jumped, spinning on my heel and found my father and…I swallowed hard…Tray coming toward us.
“Try it, old man.” Ripper wrapped his arms around my middle, pulling me back against him.
“Stop.” I shoved out of his grip, punching him in the stomach.
He chuckled, holding his stomach and making a pained face like I had actually hurt him.
I rolled my eyes and walked up to my dad, ignoring the intense scrutiny coming from Tray. “I was just heading to the back, Daddy.” I stood on tiptoes and kissed his dark, weathered cheek.
“Don’t let these old fuckers treat you any less than you deserve,” he told me. “You hear me?”
“I hear you.” I gave him a salute and backed up down the hall. “I’m going to head home soon.” Since I was done with my work and I wasn’t allowed to play in the shop with the big boys, there was no point in me staying.
“Wait for me,” my dad said just as his phone rang. “Yeah?” His jaw clenched. “Fuck. I’m on my way.” He flipped his phone closed, his gaze flicking to mine.
“I’ll be fine. It’s still daytime out,” I told him, moving to his side. “I can walk home by myself.”
“Not happening.” He thought a moment. “Shit.”
“I can walk her,” Tray suddenly offered.
My heart jumped.
My dad laughed. “You think I’m fucking stupid?”
“If I thought you were stupid, I would have told you that already. You have my SUV. I’m not about to do anything to her that would jeopardize me getting my vehicle back.” Tray met my gaze, something deep flashing behind his eyes.
My chest tightened over what he had said to my father. I wasn’t sure if I should have been offended or not.
“You think your SUV is enough for leverage?” My dad took a step closer to Tray.
He only crossed his arms under his chest, staring my father down.
I wasn’t sure why exactly but this man standing up to my dad was kind of hot. Everyone had always been terrified to stand up to him. It was why I never dated. But this was too much. I shook myself and walked past the men. “I’m going home,” I muttered.
“Zillah, wait.”
My feet stopped of their own accord at my dad’s barked command.
“You are not walking home by yourself.”
I glared, a fire suddenly coursing through me. “I am fine. Have Ripper walk me then.”
“I need him here with me. Get your ass to the back and wait for me there. I’ll take you home when we’re done.” And with that, my dad turned on his heel and went back down the way he came from.
“Sorry, little one.” Ripper squeezed my shoulder before following my dad down the hall.
I sighed, passing a glance at Tray.
His dark eyes bore into mine.
My cheeks heated. Before he could say anything, I spun on my heel and headed to the room at the back of the building. God, Tray probably thought I was just a kid. Having to listen to my father’s rules. Not being able to do what I wanted. I was twenty-four, and yet I still felt like a damn child. I headed to the room I stayed in and waited for the men in my life to figure out their shit.
Once I rounded the corner, I let out another sigh. The double set of doors stood at the end of the hall. What laid beyond the doors was nothing I wanted. Nothing I needed. It was my home away from home, but it felt more like a prison.
Frustration settled deep in my chest. I would make my father see that I could take care of myself. What would he do when I found a man? I refused to be single for the rest of my life.
A throat clearing forced a squeal from my lips.
I spun, tripping over my feet, and landed on my ass with a hard oomph. Pain shot up my spine.
“Shit.”
I looked up at the man standing over me.
“I’m sorry.” Tray held his hand out.
“That’s okay.” I slid my fingers into his, a rush of heat washing over me at the contact.
In a smooth move, he pulled me to my feet as if I weighed no more than a feather. My hands landed against his chest. A gasp lodged its way in my throat.
Tray’s torso was hard like he spent hours in the gym. The scent of spice invaded my nostrils. The black, long-sleeved shirt he wore hugged every inch of his large frame.
“I … I …” Holy hell I couldn’t speak around this guy. His scent continued to invade every inch of me. God, he smelled good.
He leaned forward, his mouth mere inches from mine.
My eyes widened. Just when I thought he was going to kiss me, he trailed his nose down the length of my jaw to my ear.
A deep rumble left his chest. It was the sexiest sound I had ever heard. It was almost as if he were purring. Like a big pussy cat. But he was definitely no pussy. His hard edges and defined chiseled features did something to me. It made me want more.
“You … I … you shouldn’t be touching me,” I finally said, thankful I was able to get that out in one breath. “My father would kill you.”
He chuckled. If I thought his purring was sexy, his laugh was even better.
Heat spread between my legs. I had never felt like this about the opposite sex.
I tilted my head, giving him better access to my throat. I shouldn’t want him like this. Not when we were at the shop. Not when someone could come down the hall at any point. Not when he was much older and far more experienced. Not when he could rip apart my soul.
But when Tray pressed his lips to the spot just beneath my ear, all of the warning bells in my head became instantly silent. It was like we were thrown into another time where it was just us. Was there such a thing as an attraction to another person like this? Was this even normal?
Something wet slid along the shell of my ear, sending a hot shiver racing down the length of my spine.
“Your skin tastes like apple pie,” he murmured, his voice deep and laced with a hint of something dark. Something dangerous. Something that I wanted.
“It’s …” I let out a slow breath. What the hell am I doing? Giving myself a shake, I backed away from him.
He raised an eyebrow, taking a step toward me.
“Stop.” I held up my hand. “I can’t do this here. Not with you. Not with anyone. My dad will kill you.”
“I’m always up for a challenge.” Tray’s dark eyes roamed down the length of me.
“Tray.” My heart sped up the longer he looked at me. “Stop.”
“Stop what?” His lips pulled into a smirk as he closed the distance between us. “Stop talking? Stop looking?” His voice deepened. “Stop touching?”
“Yes. All of that because my dad, my brother, every man here would kill you if they saw you touching me.” As much as I enjoyed it, I couldn’t do it here. Not when we were out in the open.
“Well, I guess I’ll have to touch you sometime when your father isn’t around.”
I scoffed and turned toward the door. “That would never happen. This place has a shit-ton of cameras.”
“Except for this hallway.”
I slowly turned my head. “Is that why you followed me? So, you could get me
alone knowing that no one would see?”
“So, there aren’t any cameras down this hall?” Tray scratched his chin. “Interesting.”
Shit. “Whatever.” Unlocking the door, I stepped over the threshold. When I attempted to close the door, a large boot blocked it. “What are you doing?”
“I want to see you again.” Tray leaned his arm on the door, stopping me from closing it.
“Are you insane?” I cried, pushing the door. “My dad will see you.”
“One date, Zillah.” He stuck his head in between the crack in the door and the frame. “That’s all I want.”
“Why?” I attempted to push the door. “What do you want with me?”
He licked his lips, his gaze traveling down to my mouth. “I don’t think that’s a question you want me to answer right now.”
I shivered at the underlying hint at what he truly wanted. “Tell me,” I said anyway.
He smirked. In a quick move, he grabbed onto the waist of my jeans and pulled me closer.
I gasped. “Tray.”
“Are you sure you want me to answer that question?” His gaze darkened.
“Yes,” I whispered, still trying to push the door closed.
“Say it, Zillah. Say you want me to answer that question,” he demanded. “Say. It.”
“I want you to answer my question,” I said, my voice shaking at the mere intensity of him.
Tray leaned forward.
My hands fell to my sides, no longer trying to stop him from coming into the room.
“I want to take you on a date.” He pushed his way further into the room, shutting the door behind him. “Grab a drink. Coffee. Food. I don’t give a shit. And then I want to take you somewhere and fuck you.” He leaned down to my ear. “I want to be so damn deep inside you, every time you blink, you feel me.”
All of the breath in my lungs was sucked from my chest at his words.
He gave my earlobe a gentle nip. “I also want to see if every inch of you tastes like sweet apple pie.”
“Oh, God.”
I WAS LOSING control. Not that I minded so much but when there were men in this building who could kill me and spread me all over the country faster than I took my next breath, I should have been more concerned when it came to this young woman standing in front of me. But no, I thought with my dick instead.