2HotCurvesAhead
Page 15
Shaz closed her eyes. She needed to play for time. Strangely, even knowing Karl had found the tracking device, she still had no doubt that Tyler would rescue her. “Can I go to the bathroom first?” she asked, forcing a note of pleading. He hesitated. “Please, I’m all sweaty. It wouldn’t be nice for you.” She held her breath while he thought.
Eventually he nodded. “All right but no tricks or I’ll beat you. I wouldn’t enjoy fucking you as much if you were unconscious but I’d do it,” he warned. “Or maybe I’d just shoot you. Nowhere that mattered but I think I’d like to hear you moan and scream.”
Shaz shuddered and scurried into the tiny dirty room he pointed to. At least it has a door, she thought, even if it doesn’t lock. Escaping from Karl’s leering gaze helped her ignore the pain a little but Shaz knew she’d suffer anything gladly, even a beating, if it would stop Karl getting to touch her. “Please come soon, Tyler,” she whispered, as she washed away her tear tracks. “I love you, you’re my mate and we belong together.”
Her hand stilled, trickling water, as she stared at her reflection in shock.
I love you too, mate. Where are you, Shaz? I need your help to find you.
The words echoed in her head, as clear as if Tyler were in the room with her. A sense of calm enveloped her. She frowned. Her mate wasn’t calm. She flinched as a surge of desperate anxiety squeezed her heart, forcing all the air from her body.
I’m going to find you, Shaz. Going to kill that bastard.
The mate-bond. Shaz slid her fingers over the bite marks on her neck and thigh. Somehow, the pledge had turned into a bond. How was that possible when she hadn’t told Tyler she’d accepted him as her mate? It wasn’t enough to think you were someone’s mate—you had to tell them you accepted the claim.
You just did, Tyler’s voice echoed in her head. You’re mine now.
A wave of joy surged through Shaz at the possessive pride she could hear. It spoke of ownership, longing and love. When Princess Katherine had announced she was the mate of a shifter, all the gossip sites had been full of information about the loved-up couple and shifter lore. The mate-bond meant you were connected…sharing your thoughts and desires.
Concentrating harder than she’d ever done in her life, Shaz focused on sending images of the street and the number of the building opposite. Everything she could see out of the tiny, grimy window. Her shoulders slumped. Nothing. Maybe the connection needed to be more intense. Shaz opened her mind and let her fear and hatred of Karl’s plans seep in.
Mate. Mine. No one else touches you.
A tear of relief trickled down her cheek as Tyler’s voice rumbled in her head. Again she sent the images.
I’m coming. Five minutes, my love. Stay safe.
This time the connection was stronger and her head didn’t ache as much. Be careful, he has a gun, she warned.
Nothing is stopping me, mate. No threat, no danger will keep me from finding you.
“Get out here, bitch. I’ve waited long enough.”
The thin door vibrated under the angry assault of Karl’s fists. Shaz longed to barricade herself in and wait for Tyler but she forced herself to come out. When Tyler arrived, she was going to try to distract Karl, maybe even get the gun. No one was shooting her mate. If something happened to him, she would want to die too.
“Coming.” She didn’t have to fake the quiver in her voice. Her heart was beating so fast she was surprised the tight corset didn’t burst.
“I thought I told you to get naked,” Karl demanded with a scowl.
“It’s sexier if you do it, slowly,” Shaz answered. Her trembling hands started to slide down one stocking but Karl lost it. Reaching forward, he tried to rip open the corset just as the front door exploded under the weight of a furious shifter. Shaz made a desperate grab for the gun but Karl shoved her away and aimed.
He was too late. With a snarling flash of teeth and claws Tyler shifted midair into the golden blur of an attacking mountain lion. He grabbed Karl’s arm and shook it, sending the gun flying. Roaring, he pounced, the weight of his huge body sending the much smaller man flying against the wall where he collapsed in a heap…unconscious. The mountain lion gave a victorious yowl and stalked forward, jaws open and ready to tear at the figure’s bare throat.
“No, don’t!” Shaz screamed.
He turned angry golden eyes on her. Hurt you. Want. Kill. He growled. He placed one massive paw on Karl’s chest and leaned down. His fangs were mere inches away.
“Please,” she whispered but he just shook his head, like he was clearing it of all thought except revenge. She was losing him. Losing the connection. She closed her eyes and thought from her heart. And if they arrested you? Took you away from me? What would hurt me most, my mate?
The mountain lion whined but didn’t back down.
Don’t let me lose you, she begged. I can’t live without you. Not now.
The fire faded from his eyes and he stared at her with such a depth of love she felt her heart expand. He padded slowly over to Shaz. Stay with you…always. Promise…my mate.
Shaz nodded and put her arms around as much of his huge, muscled shoulders as she could reach. Mountain lion or man, her mate was ripped. She rested her head against the soft fur and he immediately rubbed his face against hers. She felt the slightly rough pressure of his tongue as he gently nuzzled her. His whole body vibrated against her and she realized with a smile her mate was purring.
“I love you,” she whispered and watched in wonder as Tyler shifted and pulled her into his hot, naked embrace. Shaz could feel the ripple of rock-hard abs and the swell of huge biceps as he tucked her in closer and tenderly pushed back her dark curls from her dirt-smeared face. “I must look a mess,” she said.
Tyler smiled. “You look beautiful,” he murmured, his golden eyes shining with adoration and need. “Perfect.” His smile widened. “My mate.”
Shaz lifted her mouth for a kiss. “My mate,” she replied softly and watched the heat flare in his eyes. She knew she should be worried about calling the police but she didn’t care. Nothing mattered except this perfect moment…and the perfect life it would lead to. She and Tyler would live, love and raise a family. Of course there would be times they’d have to juggle the demands of their careers but Shaz wasn’t worried. They’d both shown they were willing to compromise and they’d do it, like everything from now on…together. Nothing would separate them again, because when a shifter fell in love and claimed his mate…it was forever.
It sounded just about long enough to show Tyler how much she loved him.
Never Back Down
Angelina J. Windsor
Dedication
Dedicated to the wonderful sisterhood, plus Patrick! at Ellora’s Cave. I am humbled and thankful for all your help and the incredible sharing of our journey to publishing. We rock!
A special thanks to my editor, Rebecca Fairfax, for making me a far better writer.
And to my own White Knight who saved me. Thanks for Buttonland!
For all the wonderfully curvy real women who love their curves as much as I do!
Chapter One
Life is a song—sing it.
Life is a game—play it.
Life is a challenge—meet it.
Life is a dream—realize it.
Life is a sacrifice—offer it.
Life is love—enjoy it.
Sai Baba
“Women know within seconds of meeting a man whether they want to kill, fuck or marry him. What’s it going to be, darlin’?” the man in question purrs, eyes half-closed, legs spread wide. He wears dusty black biker boots on his large feet, his long legs encased in faded denim jeans. He gives me a thorough once-over, leaving no doubt that he finds me quite fuckable.
“So, you’re leaving it in my hands, whether you find out if the carpet matches the drapes or if you need to prepare for war?” I quip right back and enjoy watching his eyes widen for an instant before resuming their devilish twinkle.
My
hair is a brilliant auburn and I know exactly what he’s busy envisioning. I’m a firm believer in the best defense is a good offense. I’ve wandered into a bar your mama warns you about. Never back down. Her words—not mine, but that bit of wisdom keeps my knees from knocking together. I may have been raised under less than ideal circumstances, but I know when I’m way out of my league. The predator sitting so nonchalantly in front of me is a killer, no doubt about it, because quite frankly I was raised by one. I just hope to entertain him enough to escape back to my beat-up Toyota. The damn thing broke down on the side of the road. Of all the friggin’ days for it to happen.
The day had started out just fine. Heading back home for the summer, ready to surprise everyone with my unexpected change of plans, classes over ‘til fall—life felt full of possibilities. And now this detour. I’m no prude or shrinking violet, but the man currently staring me down scares me to the bone. And yet, underneath, I also feel an inner thrill in his presence that surprises me. He’s so alpha male. The dark and brooding type that has always turns my crank, maybe because they’re the type I know best. I ignore the tingling sensation and keep my face neutral.
“You looking for a job?” he asks, his dark eyes giving away none of his thoughts.
“No. Just looking for help to get my car back on the road. Stalled a mile back.”
“Nice day for a stroll,” he drawls.
“Yeah, if you’ve a mind to overheat just like my damn car did,” I retort.
He’s still eying me, having trouble getting his eyes to move up from my can’t-miss-them ample breasts, but turns and yells out to a man standing and polishing glasses behind the bar.
“Come over here. Lady needs a drink. What’s your poison?” he asks, turning back my way.
“Some water would be fine.”
He snorts. “Order a real drink. I’m buying.”
“Okay.” I spy what he’s drinking and copy it. “A beer.” I swipe at my damp forehead with the back of my hand.
“Bring two beers. My brand,” he yells out, keeping his eyes glued to me. “Have a seat, darlin’.” He pushes a chair out from the table with his booted foot. It squawks in protest as it lurches across the planked floor.
I sit and look around. The bar is nearly empty, just a few men. All are turned our way and watching our exchange with some interest. Great. Just what I need.
My beer arrives without a glass and I gingerly pick up the frosty tin, pop open the top, hoping I don’t break a fingernail, and take a sip. It is soothing and I take another more appreciative sip.
He does the same, his gaze not leaving me. I shift uncomfortably in my chair. My ample curves are damp with perspiration and the hair at the back of my neck is annoyingly stuck to it. I lift it away to give the air-conditioning a chance to work. My lips taste salty as I sip more beer. Please let this go all right.
“I’m Ace. Prez of Heaven’s Devils. And you are?”
I had noticed his cut and the various Men of Mayhem tags fixed to it as soon as I spied him. Though he looked hot in the leather vest, the warnings that came with it of his being in the 1% of the population willing to kill was chilling. He is exactly dead center in the life I’ve been working hard to escape since I grew up enough to know what being part of a club means. How your loyalty to your brothers competes with your loyalty to your blood family.
“Jess Stone. Nice to meet you, Ace.”
“Where’re you traveling to?”
“Home to Nowhere, USA, for the summer. Break from college,” I say. I’m not giving my destination away. If he finds my old man is in a rival motorcycle club, I could be in even worse trouble. Unfortunately, I’ve broke down just outside Vegas in Ace’s exclusive territory.
“Nowhere, huh.” He grimaces. “Any reason why you don’t want to share your exact location?”
“Nah, just trying to forget the boring place I grew up in,” I hedge.
“Yet you’re going back for the summer.”
“No choice. Can’t afford Vegas all year.”
“Gal who looks like you? You could get a job dancing anywhere on the Strip.”
Who’s he kidding? I’m too curvy for the Strip. I’m a part-time plus-size model to pay for my schooling and I like my curves. No fighting what nature endowed me with.
“Can’t work the Strip. The boobs are all my own.”
“Very nice,” he says with an admiring dark glance.
You bet your balls they are. I add, “Just looking to do my dad’s books for the summer. I’m taking accounting classes at Richardson Technical College.”
His eyes light up. “Really. I’m in need of an accountant. Are you good at keeping two sets of books?”
Shit. This is not going the way I wanted.
“Two sets?” I ask, all innocent-like. I know exactly what he means, but I refuse to let on. If he thinks I’m too straight and narrow to be of much assistance, I stand a better chance at escaping.
He frowns. I take another sip of beer, drawing circles with my fancy French-white fingertip in the moisture that has run down the can to pool on the table. I look up and catch him squinting at me. He runs a hand through his long hair, pushing the thick, dark waves back from his face that escaped from his low-tied ponytail. He’s what you call ruggedly handsome, full facial features annotated with a thin scar over one slash of an eyebrow. He’s tall and plenty muscular as if he makes it a daily habit to work out, though hard to tell exactly how tall sitting down as we are. I am his polar opposite. I’m fair-skinned, needing lots of foundation to cover my sprinkling of freckles, with blue eyes and auburn hair. I’m a full-sized girly girl and I know he’s a man’s man. I need to get the hell out of Dodge. ASAP.
“You in a big hurry to get home?” he asks with an air of indifference we both know he doesn’t mean. His glance smolders as I lick drops of perspiration from my upper lip. Big mistake. My heart races while my pussy dampens. Danger lurks in this roadside bar and I’m drawn to it as much as it repels me. It’s what I know.
“Depends,” I hedge again. A loud noise draws his attention. I turn to see what he’s staring at with such fierceness.
Oh shit. A rival gang, Satan’s Dogs, are sauntering into the bar. Why today? They couldn’t have waited one more day to invade Ace’s territory? Or one more friggin’ hour? I take a deep breath and begin to pray. You ever get a premonition your life is going to totally change? Well, this was my epiphany moment. The only question remaining—is it gonna be for the better or for worse? My bet’s on the latter.
“When I get up, walk through the bar to the back and out the back door,” he hisses in my ear as he leans over and captures my lips for an unexpected kiss. And not just any kiss. A full-on, hungry, lip-locking kiss that curls my toes in my summer sandals. My body is instantly turned-on as if someone just threw a light switch. So unexpected is the flash of heat I experience in my lower belly I forget for a split second where the hell I am. Then I do, swallow hard and try to remember to breathe. Okay. That’s working.
I hear his boots ringing on the floor as if he’s wearing spurs, as he walks away from me. His lips taste slightly of beer and I lick mine absently as I wait for my moment. Good. Now just get up, Jess. I do, grasping my purse tightly to my body and manage to find my wobbly legs. I slowly walk towards the back hallway, trying not to be obvious. Running would be a bad idea.
I make the hallway and some of the worry drops away. Just a few more steps. A shot rings out. Shit. I begin to run. I push through the steel door and find myself in a compound, the mid-afternoon sun burning my skin again with its fierceness. My eyes race frantically around the confining space. Where to hide? I spot a door in the fence that leads to other buildings. I race for it. I’m through the fence and into the second building as quickly as my pumping legs will get me. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. Bikers, old ladies and assorted clientele give me the once-over. Shit. The Heaven’s Devils clubhouse.
“Who the hell are you?”
I hardl
y look like I fit in so the question is legitimate. I’m wearing a yellow sundress and everyone else is splendid in cuts and black leather. I breathe in the familiar odor of sweat and leather and let it rip.
“Ace, he’s under attack in the bar! Satan’s Dogs. I heard a shot and ran out. He warned me to leave—Ace, that is, he warned me.”
There is an instant scurry of activity. Men throw down their pool cues and race for the door. I step back as they run by me, nearly trampling me in their rush.
“Come on in. You can wait here with us ‘til it’s worked out,” an old lady invites me over. She’s obviously one of the wives, with her air of confidence and hard-ass biker-babe look. She looks good.
“Thanks.” I manage a small smile and walk over to the table. She’s thirty-something and tough as nails. I sit down. She takes a drag on her cigarette, giving me a slitted-eye look.
“What are you doing in this neck of the woods, sweetheart? Shouldn’t you be at prom or something?” she asks and flicks a few ashes in the shallow tin can that acts as an ashtray. The tin is mostly full. Dark-red lipstick rings the cigarette she holds between her thumb and forefinger. Gave up smoking about three years ago when a fellow student’s mom died of lung cancer. A solidary thing. With the lifestyle the woman in front of me is embracing, it’s not likely cigs are going to be her worst downfall.
“My car broke down on the side of the road,” I say.
“Isn’t that a country and western tune?” she banters.
I snort. “Probably. Like sitting on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere. But I think my life’s tune would go more like, ‘if she didn’t have bad luck, she wouldn’t have no luck at all’.”
Now it’s her turn to chuckle. “Yeah, I hear you, sister. You’re all right, for a prom queen. Name’s Emma.”
“Thanks, Emma. Can I use your washroom?”