Six: Company of Sinners MC #2

by Lisa J. Hobman

  And if shower gel and my imagination helped then so be it.

  Chloe

  I didn't really sleep. And when I did I was plagued with nightmares about ugly, menacing men trying to hold me down. I awoke on several occasions crying out into my lonely bedroom and each time it happened I wished that I'd asked Six to stay. Even if he'd slept on the couch, I would have felt better. Safer. I was angry at myself for initially misunderstanding his motives for following me home. I feared that I would never get a chance to make things up to him. Or to thank him properly for what he'd done for me.

  I climbed out of bed and rubbed my tired, stinging eyes before making my way into the bathroom. The water in my shower never got hot enough. No matter how many times I talked to the Super nothing was ever done. Thanks to the lukewarm temperature, my shower was over in record time. Once I was dry I slipped on a tatty old T-shirt and a pair of panties before going through to the kitchen to make coffee. Once the coffee was done I poured a mug full, relishing the earthy, soothing aroma. I figured I had better go check the lock on the front door seeing as Six had made me promise to stay safe and I was trying to do as I was asked for once in my life. As I headed for the door, I spotted an envelope on my door mat.

  Intrigued, I picked it up and took it with me until I could set my coffee down and open it. Inside was a disc and a note that simply said “Chloe Dancer” and I knew that Six had been by. Excitement set the butterflies fluttering around inside me and I chewed on my lip as a dumb wide smile spread across my face. This guy was an enigma. Curiosity got the better of me as I remembered Six telling me about the Mother Love Bone track. After flicking on a lamp I slipped the disc into my sound system and hit play. I flopped onto the couch, hugged my knees up to my chest and closed my eyes letting the music and lyrics wash over me.

  There was a hint of sadness and melancholy to the song that my biker said would remind him of me and I wondered if he knew more about me than he let on. As rain spattered the windows of my compact apartment, I wondered what he was doing. Was he thinking about me? What did he really want from me—if anything? And would he ever kiss me again? Or did he see me as some kind of breakable, fragile little doll that he simply needed to protect?

  My mind drifted back to the intense urgency of his kiss and—despite my intention to try and keep my lustful feelings for the dangerous stranger in check—the muscles low in my belly tightened and my nipples peaked. I raised my fingers and touched my lips where they tingled at the memory of our fervent exchange. How could I want him? All I knew about him was that he had some kind of possessive intent for me. Maybe that was it? Maybe it was the fact that he wanted to protect me that attracted me.

  I'd never experienced that before. Someone who wanted to look after me. Since Brett, my mom's boyfriend had come onto me when I was just eighteen, I had found it hard to trust any man. And so the easiest thing had been to just steer clear of relationships. After all, the guy who is supposed to love your mother should be trustworthy, right?

  Wrong.

  Well in my case it was. He could do no wrong in my mom's eyes, however. When I told her what he'd done, and the inappropriate suggestions he'd made while she was out at the bar working, she didn't believe me. She even said I was jealous of their happiness.

  So I left.

  I took five hundred bucks from a tin in the kitchen that Brett was saving for who the hell knows what, cleared out my college fund and I got as far away as my meager cash stash would allow. It was distressing enough that my mom chose to believe that bastard over me. But the fact that he threatened to come find me because I told her was something that had stuck with me. Terrified me. Utah had been my savior. My safe haven. And I didn't want anything to change that.

  But here I was fantasizing about a guy who oozed dominance and danger from every pore whilst simultaneously radiating sex appeal. How the hell did he do that? I sat there watching the droplets of water drizzle down my window pane and I pictured him. All six feet four—at a guess—of rock hard muscle, tattoos and hair. He wasn't what you could call conventionally attractive. No sir. But there was definitely something about him. Something that had pulled me in from the first time I had spotted him at The Fox Hub.

  The Mother Love Bone track was long and deeply emotive. How could such a fearsome looking wall of muscle have such a tender heart? It didn't correlate at all in my mind. Perhaps there was something deeper to his need to protect me. I wondered if he'd had sadness in his life too. If he'd been betrayed by those who were supposed to love him the most.

  As I listened to the lyrics the thought sprang to mind that perhaps he saw me as some kind of kindred spirit. You can't judge a book by its cover and the tough exterior could have been hiding a multitude of painful memories that made him who he was. Was I reading too much into the lyrics? I really didn't know for sure but most of the time a song sticks with someone because it connects them to a memory or feeling; whether good or bad. And as I absorbed the emotion of this song I could understand how it could have that effect on someone.

  It was affecting me deeply on the first listen.

  As the track ended I realized that tears had escaped and left damp trails down my cheeks. They mirrored the rainy weather outside my window and for some reason I was drawn to it. I peered through the glass, down at the soaked street below and inhaled sharply. Six stood across the street staring up at my window. He swiped his drenched hair back from his face and as our eyes connected. I felt a jolt of electricity that made me gasp.

  He was here.

  I should've been completely freaked out by the fact but instead and for some inexplicable reason I felt pulled toward him all over again. As if he read my mind he began to jog toward my building keeping his eyes trained on my window until I could no longer see him. Without thinking I spun around, ran for the door and yanked it open, leaving my apartment without giving its security a second thought. My bare feet slapped against the cold tile floor in the hallway and I ran down the stairs as quickly as I could, my heart racing in anticipation of seeing him again.

  I pushed through the outer door and was immediately scooped up by strong, familiar arms. One hand held me at my bottom and the other slipped into my hair and pulled me forward until our lips collided. I gripped the wet strands of his hair urgently as his tongue entered my mouth. The rain hammered down on us where we stood and we were no doubt putting on quite a display for the neighborhood but I didn't care.

  All I cared about was kissing him.

  A lust-filled growl erupted from his chest and the door to the building slammed open. I hadn't realized his boot had stopped it from closing but I was grateful as I probably wouldn't have remembered the door release code at that precise moment. Without letting me down he carried me through the door into the stairwell and began to climb the stairs his mouth still on mine. My legs wrapped around his body and our tongues tangling together as if we were long lost lovers only just reunited.

  We reached my door and once he realized it was open he pulled away from me and peered into my eyes.

  His jaw clenched. “Chloe dancer. Don't ever leave your door open like that. Fuck you scare the crap out of me, do you know that? I don't want anyone hurting you. And why the fuck did you come outside with hardly any damn clothes on? You're gonna get yourself sick.”

  My chest heaved as I pulled much needed air into my lungs. “I'm sorry, Six. I just...I needed to get to you.”

  My words did something to him and in a split second his mouth was on me once more. He was devouring me and I couldn't get enough. Once inside my apartment he kicked the door closed, carried me into the living room and laid me down on the couch hovering just inches above me. His wet clothing clung to his sculpted body and his hooded gaze was firmly fixed on me.

  Chapter Eight

  Six

  She lay there beneath me on her tatty old couch. Mine for the taking. And fuck did I want to take. The rain soaked white T-shirt she wore clung to her tits and shit it was the most beautiful sight I'd ever
seen. Her dark nipples were visible through the transparent, wet fabric and her chest heaved from our passionate exchange. My cock strained to reach her and all I wanted was to be naked and inside of her.

  But I couldn't do it.

  Don't get me wrong I had a fucking hard on like a rod of steel. I could perform, but I couldn't take advantage like that. I wouldn't. I had a war raging in my head. Two opposing sides—one urging me forward and the other, a side of myself I was only just becoming acquainted with, was urging me to leave before I did something that she'd regret.

  Not me.

  Her.

  “Chloe...I...I...” Typical that my brain should be lacking in blood supply thanks to the massive rush of the damn stuff that had headed south. I couldn't put into words what I wanted. She'd think I was a fucking pervert. I thought better of it and stood quickly. I stepped back and almost toppled as a head rush swamped my brain. I turned away from her to gather my thoughts.

  My perverted, dirty thoughts.

  Was her pussy as wet as her T-shirt? How tight would she feel around my cock? What would she taste like if I went down on her and fuck the consequences?

  Oh yeah I was gathering my thoughts all right.

  Fuck. Dumb-ass move, Six.

  “Six?” Her sweet voice dragged me back to the surface of the earth from whatever depths of depravity I'd been lurking in.

  I ran my hands through my straggly wet hair and turned to gaze at her once more. She was still laying there. Waiting. Her long legs stretched out and parted slightly. Her perfect tits begging for my touch. My head was screaming at me to just fuck her. Get her out of my system. To just take what I wanted but as I trailed my gaze down at her transparent T-shirt something tugged inside of me—I guess it was my conscience, I hadn't heard from it in a while—and I swallowed hard. She was too sweet. I couldn't just maul her on her couch. That'd make me no better than the fucking asshole that I'd rescued her from at the club.

  I cleared my throat as my mind raced back to the urgent kiss we'd shared...or should I say the one I'd taken. “I'm... I'm sorry about that Chloe, I keep acting like an ass and I shouldn't have done it.” My voice cracked like a teenage boy and I felt stupid.

  She pulled herself up to a sitting position. “The kiss? But I wanted it too.”

  I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. What the hell do I say? How do I let her down gently? When I opened my eyes again she had dropped her head forward.

  When I opened my eyes again she had dropped her head forward. “It's okay...I get it. You don't want me. I guess Chloe isn't as enticing in her ratty old T-shirt as Nina is in a silver thong.” Her voice held a kind of desolation that told me someone had made her feel that way before.

  What the ever-loving fuck?

  I crouched before her and tilted her chin up with my finger. “Hey, you're so damn wrong it's ridiculous. Don't ever think that. I just... aww, forget it. No matter what I say it'll come out wrong. I'm thinking with my dick. But just know this. I do want you. I've wanted you for so long and you've made me so damn hard dressed like that...or undressed like that.” I chuckled. “I think my junk might be deformed down there.” I gestured at my jeans, trying to lighten her mood.

  She giggled and glanced up at me. “So why... why didn't you want to have sex with me?”

  I sighed heavily. “Chloe, you're a sweet girl. Way too sweet for me. You don't deserve to be treated like that. To just be fucked. And that's all I could offer you, but you're worth so much more. You should have better. Better than me anyway.”

  She didn't reply but the line between her brows told me that what I'd just said had gone in one ear and right out the other. Why didn't she believe me? Why would I lie? But then I remembered she didn't really know me and what bit she did know wasn't exactly good shit. I was a violent man in a motorcycle club who had stalked her, pretty much kidnapped her and then to frost the fucking cake, I'd forced myself on her. What was there not to love?

  I lowered my voice and spoke softly. “Look, I think I'd better go. I just stopped by your block to make sure you were safe. I see that you are so... so I should leave.”

  She nodded and wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees. Disappointment graced her pretty features and embarrassment colored her cheeks. I felt like a fucking prize ass. She'd done nothing wrong.

  I stood slowly this time and reached down to squeeze her shoulder. “Like I said before stay away from The Fox Hub for a while okay? Just until the dust settles.”

  She raised her chin and locked eyes with me as an air of defiance stiffened her spine. “I'm an adult, Six and I need to work. I'll be fine. I'm not your responsibility and now I think you're right. You should go.”

  I clenched my jaw. For some stupid reason I was ready to argue. To shout if necessary to get my point across but the look on her face told me that I'd be wasting my time.

  Stubborn-ass woman.

  With a resigned sigh I told her, “I'm only trying to protect you from the shit that goes on in my life, Chloe. I just want you to be—”

  “Safe, yeah you mentioned that. Look, I have to be somewhere so you should leave now.”

  I shook my head as I trailed my gaze over her once more. Mentally kicking myself for making her think I didn't want her. And for being so damned sensible for once. What the hell was wrong with me?

  I left the apartment and she followed to slam the door behind me.

  Yep, I'd really fucked up.

  Again.

  Chloe

  Maybe Brett—my mom's handsy, pervert, asshole of a boyfriend—was right. No man would want me. I watched Six leave the building after I had unceremoniously slammed the door on him like a moody, errant teenager. I could see him out of my window as he climbed onto his bike and ran his hands roughly through his straggly hair. He glanced up at my window and I jumped back. I didn't need him to see me spying on him that's for sure.

  Brett's words rang around my head as Six pulled away into the evening. “Take it from me, no one will want you, Chloe. You're an awkward little thing. Eighteen and all tits and legs but your face...well...let's just say you'd maybe be good for a fuck if the guy keeps his eyes closed. Face it, honey, you have a face for radio. No one will want to look at you. I'm trying to take pity on you here. Trying to show you what sex can be like. Because to be honest, no one is going to want a relationship with you.” He squeezed my breasts and pressed his erection into my denim clad ass as fear made my heart pound. Thank goodness I wasn't wearing a skirt. I'd been warned not to scream or to tell my mom as he had already said he would deny everything and make it out that I had come on to him.

  The thought of his hands on me made me want to vomit. Maybe he had a point. Maybe all Six saw was tits and legs. Okay, when I was made up for my performances, maybe I looked marginally good from the neck up and at a distance. But when Six saw me that morning, without the layer of face paint he was used to, my appearance had clearly put him off. He couldn't even bring himself to have sex with me. I had wanted to repay him for caring in the only way that men seemed to appreciate but I was obviously too gross and he was just being nice.

  Yeah, as much as I hated to admit it and as much as I hated the man himself, Brett was right.

  Chapter Nine

  Six

  When I left Chloe's apartment I took a long ride to clear my head. By the time I got back it was getting dark and I'd had several missed calls from guys in the MC. I arrived back at the club house to find that all hell had broken loose in my absence. I wasn't sure what the fuck had gone down but what I did know was that there were some pretty pissed off bikers hurling abuse at each other in the bar. Delilah was standing there watching the whole thing unfold as she twisted her hands in front of her. Now if you knew Dee like I did you'd have been shocked too. Nothing spooked her. She was a tough cookie.

  I made my way over to where she stood. “What the hell happened, Dee?”

  “Oh God, Six, where the hell have you been? The shit has reall
y hit the fan. I've tried to call you like a billion times.”

  “Hey, I've told you a trillion times not to exaggerate.” I chuckled at my own joke but she just rolled her eyes and whacked my arm.

  “Six, it's not funny. Loki's Legion are making a play for the land out by the freeway. They want to build a warehouse. Colt says it's some kind of retaliation for what happened with you and that moron who tried to maul the Fox you like.”

  “Her name is Chl...Nina.”

  “What-the-fuck-ever, Six. Shit has gotten serious.”

  I didn't really get what the fuss was about. “So, Colt tells them to take a hike. It's all good.”

  “God, Six don't you get it? It's not that straight forward. That area is no man's land. If Loki's crew take over it imagine what the hell that will be like. It's too close, man.”

  She had a point. Colt, our club Prez, had been guardian over that land for around ten years after he struck a deal with the former President of Loki's Legion. But since the guy had retired and Deak had taken over things had changed. And not for the better.

  Colt spied me standing there and began to walk toward me. His almost black hair was tied back in its usual band to expose the Company of Sinners tattoo around the front of his neck. He matched me for height but was a little leaner. To anyone else he'd be an intimidating bastard but not to me. I'd seen him at his lowest when his old lady had died of cancer four years earlier. The man almost followed her to the fucking grave and I swore at that point that love just wasn't worth the pain.