Running Hot (Hell Ryders MC Book 2)

by J. L. Sheppard

  The muscles in his shoulders and arms tensed. Thomas took a step toward her. “Up, let’s go.”

  It got her talking, fast. “W-what?”

  His eyes narrowed.

  Angry Thomas. This didn’t bode well. He could go from zero to sixty in a split second. She knew this for a fact having seen it happen twice, the two times he saved her.

  He uncrossed his arms, dropping them to his sides, and fisted his hands. “Been awake for close to forty hours, and I’m tired. Not gonna convince you of shit, so get your ass up before I carry you out myself.”

  “Tiff, how do you know this guy?”

  What. The. Hell. Oh, no. Oh, no. No. No. He would not and could not barge into her life after years of nothing and demand anything from her.

  Tensing, she glared. “What are you doing here?”

  He lifted his chin. “Get your ass off that couch and steer it in my direction.”

  Wow.

  Just wow.

  Her eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. “Have you lost your mind?”

  “I’m pretty close if you don’t do what I say.”

  Why the hell would she? Her jaw clenched. “I’m not doing anything you say.”

  He smirked. “All right, we’ll have it out right here.” He spared a glance around the room, met her eyes again, and hardened his. “You’re a radar for shit men.”

  He had a point there. She was a radar for shit men, except for Mark. Not Mark.

  “So what I’m doing here is taking care of your problem, the asshole who’s been bothering you for months.”

  What? How the hell did he know? Instead of asking, she asked another very important question. “Why?”

  “’Cause your father paid me to do it.”

  Her jaw dropped, gut twisted. “Why?” Her voice came out high pitched and shaky.

  “’Cause he didn’t want you dealing with it anymore.”

  Not what she meant. She knew why her dad would. Her father loved her, wanted the best for her, didn’t want her dealing with a creep. What she didn’t know—why he’d go to Thomas or why Thomas would help her. “Why you?”

  He took another step in her direction, his gaze spitting fire. “Why not me?”

  “Because you want nothing to do with me.” Yes, that came out of her mouth, something she shouldn’t have brought up because it showed she cared, and she shouldn’t care.

  He clenched his jaw so hard she thought it’d crack. “Who the fuck said that?”

  “I think you’ve made it perfectly clear the last few times we’ve seen each other.”

  His nostrils flared. “Oh, yeah? You got that from me saving your ass from Miles and getting locked up for it?”

  She flinched. Every time she remembered what saving her cost him, she couldn’t help it. Right then, it was worse because he brought it up. Her whole body shook with the strength of her jerk.

  “You got that from me fixing your tire, not even charging you? You got that from me picking your ass up after that asshole spiked your drink? You got that from me telling you anytime you had a problem to come to me?”

  No, she got that from him being a dick like he was now. “No, Thomas, I got that from you telling me we shouldn’t be friends after you got locked up for saving me. I got that from you storming away after fixing my tire, and I got that from you telling me you had to give up good pussy to go get me when my drink was spiked.”

  She caught sight of a man, tall and tatted and scary, striding into the living room. It had to be a friend of Thomas’s, another biker. Marianne poked her head out from behind him. Stupidly and belatedly, she realized they were having it out in front of an audience. Her cheeks flamed.

  When she met his stare again, his eyes hardened to slits. “Get. Your. Ass. Off. The. Couch.”

  Tiffany looked away, brought her hands to her head, pressed her fingers against her temple, and sighed heavily before she met his stare again. She needed to fix this situation, fast. “Let’s take a moment to compose ourselves—”

  A vein in his neck pulsed. Through gritted teeth, he barked, “I ain’t composin’ shit ’cause I’m fuckin’ pissed, and you keep riling me.”

  She forced her voice to calm. “My dad paid you to do something without my consent. I’m assuming you already did it, so I don’t understand why you’re here and why you’re so angry.”

  The corded muscles on his neck strained against his skin. “’Cause your dad shouldn’t be paying me to handle your shit. I told you, I’d handle your shit for free. I told you, you had a problem to come to me, and this dick’s been bothering you for months, and you haven’t called me.” He jabbed a finger at her. “You promised.”

  Not just the hottest man on the face of the earth, he was also the most complex. After everything, why would she call him? Why did he expect her to? “Why would I, Thomas?”

  He fisted his hands. “’Cause I told you to and ’cause you fuckin’ promised.”

  Why, oh, why did he say things like that? They made her believe he cared. Only to be let down when he eventually said or did something to prove he didn’t. He had to stop.

  She forced a chuckle. “You’re not my boss nor are you my bodyguard. You’re not even my friend. I haven’t even seen you for years.”

  “No shit, I ain’t your boss. You’re lucky I’m not ’cause you’d be bent over my lap, and I’d be spanking you for this shit play.”

  Her breath hitched.

  “You’ve managed to piss me off so much. You’re lucky I didn’t get you alone. Had I, I’d still be spanking you right now.”

  Her cheeks flamed. “Don’t be so coarse.”

  “I’m a biker. Before that, baby girl, I was from the wrong side of the tracks.” He cocked his head to the side. “Remember?”

  A biker, yes. He joined sometime after he graduated from high school. Wrong side of the tracks, no. He just didn’t come from money, and everyone knew this. Everyone in a small town like Wadden knew everything about everyone. Baby girl? No, she wasn’t a baby or girl. She was a woman. Twenty-one, soon to be twenty-two.

  She grit her teeth and stood from her position on the couch. Even so, she had to tilt her head back to look him in the eyes. “I’m twenty-one, asshole. I’m not a baby or a girl.” How she managed to keep her voice level, she’d never know.

  He took a long menacing stride toward her, passing Donna sitting beside her and in between them. Then he bent, pressed his shoulder against her stomach, grasped her behind the knees, and straightened, lifting her so her butt was in the air.

  He did this so fast the air rushed out of her. Her hands went to his back to steady herself, fingers digging into his skin. “Thomas Layne! Let me go, Thomas! I swear, I’ll—”

  He slapped her on the rear. Not hard but firm. She jerked then stilled as a rush of liquid pooled in her center, silencing her.

  “Quiet, baby girl. I gotta headache, and your voice, as sweet as it is, is making it worse.”

  What an asshole. She wiggled in his grasp, trying to loosen his hold. “I can’t believe you spanked me.”

  “You don’t want me to do it again, I suggest you hold still and stop moving. I don’t wanna drop you.”

  “Then let me go.” She wiggled.

  He spanked her ass again. Harder. Then she heard and felt his body move when he chuckled. The heat on her cheeks trailed down her neck.

  “Turns me on, Tiff. Don’t wanna make me do it again.”

  God! He was infuriating. “Thomas Layne, put me down or I’ll…I’ll have my friends call the cops.”

  He scoffed. “Wouldn’t be the first time I get locked up for you.”

  She flinched and quit struggling. She stayed there, butt in air, feeling her stomach sour. No other option now, she said, “I’ll go with you if you put me down.”

  “I’d ask you to promise, but I know you don’t keep promises, least not with me. Like I said, I’m tired, so I’m gonna put you down.” His voice thick and firm, no longer humorous. “If I do it and you try
to run from me, Tiff, I’ll fuckin’ chase you, and I will catch you. When I catch you, I’m gonna be more pissed. Get me?”

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  He trailed his hands from her thighs to her waist then set her down. Once her feet hit the floor, she shoved him, hard. He didn’t move, not a muscle. “You’re a bigger asshole than I thought.”

  The asshole had the gall to smirk. He leaned into her until a breath away then whispered, “Yeah, baby girl, I am, so keep that shit in mind when dealing with me.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “It’ll be hard to forget.”

  She turned and met Marianne and Donna’s gazes. Before she could apologize, Marianne whispered, “Totally get it now.”

  Josh laughed. “Watching that was better than anything on HBO.”

  She glared at Josh then met Mark’s gaze. One look at his pained stare, and she knew he knew. Thomas was the reason she’d never been able to fall for him.

  She grabbed her phone off the coffee table, hugged Marianne and Donna goodbye, then Josh and Chris leaving Mark for last. He wrapped his arms tight around her. She snaked hers around his waist. Then he leaned into her ear and whispered, “Be happy, Tiff,” proving what she always knew to be true.

  Mark was an amazing man who loved her enough to let her go, to want her happiness above his. A rush of tears clouded her vision, wishing what she had so many times before, that she could love Mark the way he loved her.

  Her arms tightened around his waist. “I wish I could—”

  Pulling away, his eyes softened in that way she’d seen time and time again. “Don’t say it. It’ll only make it harder for me, and it’s hard enough already.”

  Hard for her too. He’d never know just how hard.

  Chapter Three

  Shit.

  Gut punch. No doubt that was the guy Cuss saw her with two years ago, holding her and kissing her, and now, he held her and whispered some shit in her ear.

  They may be broken up, but one thing became crystal clear. The guy still had feelings for her, and she had feelings for him. She let him touch her and hold her and whisper shit in her ear. She’d never let him hold her. She’d never even touched him, not unless he counted the time she rode on the back of his bike, and he didn’t because she had no other choice.

  Cuss’s nostrils flared. His stomach soured. Clenching his jaw until it hurt, he tore his gaze from them and met Mellow’s stare.

  “Took care of shit?”

  He nodded. By the time he looked back, Tiff was striding his way with tears in her eyes. His gaze snapped to the ex’s and narrowed, a silent threat. He had to give the guy credit. He had balls. Cuss gave the ex his worst glare, and he didn’t even blink.

  He then met her gaze. Still livid she hadn’t called him and now jealous, he sniped, “Take a little longer to piss me off some more?”

  She swallowed, holding those tears back. “Can you stop being an asshole for two minutes?”

  He shrugged. “Depends if you can do what I say when I say it.”

  Tiff glared, headed out of the apartment, and down the hall to another. He followed behind, watching her closely. She pulled the key from her pocket and unlocked the door. Parting it, she stepped inside, and immediately switched on the light, scanning the room repeatedly.

  Not good. That prick stalker of hers fucked with her head in a bad way. It meant even if he took care of the problem, she’d have a hard time getting rid of that fear. That kind of shit stayed with you long after it ended. He hoped, despite the sickening feeling in his stomach, it didn’t mean the prick found a way in her apartment.

  He entered, slammed the door shut, locked it, and did the same, scanning the apartment but for a different reason. Being there was surreal. For four years, since she moved away to college, he wondered where she lived, what her home in LA looked like. In his head, he pictured it time and time again, high-end fancy and expensive furniture and décor like her parents’ house. He’d been in it once. But this, her place, just the opposite, low key, homey, and comfortable; what a home should look like. Much like the apartment they’d just been in but bigger and open concept.

  To the left, the kitchen, a wall divided it from the hall leading into a dining room and living room. The dining room table, a dark wood, sat four. In the center stood a green vase with lilies. A large cream-colored sectional occupied most of her living room. Behind it, a large painting, an abstract, but to him, it looked like a mother and child. Across, two bookcases filled with text books. In between, a large flat screen TV. The entirety decorated simply in green tones, a glass plate on her coffee table, matching the vase on the dining room table. Frames scattered around the rooms on the shelves and walls with pictures of her, her parents, her friends—one from back home, Tina, but most were from the two girlfriends he just met.

  She set her phone on her dining room table and faced him. “Okay, so what do you want to talk about?”

  He caught her gaze. His stomach knotted like it did every time he looked at her. She was that beautiful, beautiful in a way that every time he saw her he was reminded. He knew it the first time he laid eyes on her. She’d been a gorgeous girl then. Now, she was a stunning woman, and she got more so with every passing day. Petite and lean with curves, a mass of dark chocolate, long hair, sleek and straight framed her heart-shaped face. Her lips full, eyes a piercing green that grabbed hold of your soul and didn’t let go. And her smile… She had a smile that lit up her whole face, a whole room. He remembered it, hadn’t seen it for a long time, not unless you counted dreams.

  He swallowed, refocused his thoughts, and blurted, “I’m staying.”

  “I figured you wanted to rest, so you’re more than welcome to crash on the couch for tonight. Is your friend—”

  He shook his head. “He’s not staying. Mellow and Bud are headed out tonight. I’m staying here with you till you graduate. Then I’m gonna take you home.”

  Her eyes widened. “W-what?” A whisper.

  Why this surprised her, he didn’t know. Did she think he’d leave her after what he did to the prick? What if there was blowback?

  Brows furrowed, she whispered, “My dad’s paying you to do that?”

  He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to scream. He couldn’t lose his shit on her again, so he schooled his voice before he spoke. “No.”

  “Then why would you…” She looked away. “Why are you—”

  “’Cause I want to.”

  Her eyes shot to his. “Because my father’s paying you.”

  He closed the distance between them, snaked his arm around her waist, and hauled her forward until he plastered her against him. Letting out a small gasp, her hands went to his chest. She angled her head toward his, her feverish breaths hitting his face.

  He didn’t know why he did that, thought maybe because her ex held her. He was still nursing that jealously and needed to make it go away. Whatever the reason, he was glad he did. It felt good to hold her. No, amazing. Her reaction felt better.

  He smirked. “No, baby girl, your dad ain’t paying me. He came to me to do the job. The job was to take care of your stalker. Already took care of him, and I ain’t getting a dime of that money. Told your dad, now I’m telling you. Whatever he’s paying is gonna go to the club. It’s gonna go to all the brothers, all of them except me. I’m not taking it ’cause I handle your shit for free ’cause I wanna handle your shit.”

  Her gaze held his. “W-why?”

  “He fucked with you. He fucked with me.” He hadn’t meant to admit it, but it slipped out. Not the time to make declarations. For one, it was too soon. A lot of time passed since they’d last seen each other. They may have known one another for more than seven years, but during that time, they only spoke several times, meaning they didn’t really know each other. Last, he needed to get on her good side before he confessed what he wanted, what he’d always wanted.

  She shook her head. “No. He—”

  “You’re scared.”

  She didn’t say
a word, but he knew he was right from the tears that instantly welled in her piercing green eyes.

  “I—”

  It hurt to see her so close to tears, hurt to know he was right, and it hurt in a way his body reacted to it, the arm around her waist tightening. Still, he was angry she hadn’t kept her promise, and what it meant. She’d rather live in fear than come to him.

  Heat flushed his body, his muscles stiffening, fury at the cusp. “Don’t deny it.” His voice firm. “You’re living in fear, scanning your apartment before you walk in. You’re terrified.”

  He leaned into her, so his mouth was just an inch from hers. That close, she was breathtaking. He held onto his anger and kept going. “I could’ve fixed it. I would’ve fixed it. You knew I could and would. All you had to do was keep your promise. Was it so hard?”

  Those tears in her eyes drifted down her face. Without losing sight of his gaze, she nodded.

  “Why?”

  She buried her face in his chest, fingers clutching him, and a sob tore from her throat.

  Then he lost it, lost the will to stay angry. Lacing his fingers through her hair, he cupped the back of her head, holding her against his chest, and rested his chin on the top of her head.

  Cuss let her wails pierce the air, let the sound resonate inside him until his whole body ached. Hands rubbing her back, still he held her tight waiting for her body to stop trembling. Then he dropped his head. His lips against her ear, he whispered, “It’s okay, baby girl.”

  His hands at her back slid up to her cheeks. He then angled her face to meet his. Even crying, she was stunning.

  Insane.

  He wiped her cheeks with his thumbs. “It’s taken care of. You don’t gotta be afraid anymore.”

  She tilted her head down, face close to his chest. “Why don’t you just g-go?”

  “Not going. I’m gonna keep you safe. Stop arguing, I’m not changing my mind.” He kissed the top of her head and breathed deep, taking in the scent of her hair. Flowers, he never smelled anything like it. “Gonna be okay, Tiff. I promise.”

  Pulling away from his chest, she slanted her head up to meet his stare and swallowed. “You said you took care of him. You don’t need to stay. I’ll be fine.”