Sinfully Scarred: Reckless Bastards MC

by KB Winters

  “Lucky you.” I hadn’t seen my own mother in so long that I just stopped thinking about her and the family I used to have. The moment I realized that my overly religious family would probably compound what I’d gone through by rejecting me or worse, trying to fix me. I hoped they believed I was dead because it meant no one would come looking for me, and I could just stop talking about my past. Hell, I’d give anything if I could stop thinking about it.

  “What do you want, Minx?”

  I blinked and looked up to see a pretty Mexican waitress and Cash staring at me with concerned eyes. “Oh, um, I’ll have three fish tacos with extra guac, and a tall margarita on the rocks”—Cash looked at me with smiling eyes that shone with surprise— “and fresh chips and salsa please.”

  “Healthy appetite,” he said once the waitress was gone.

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Not at all. I love a woman who loves to eat.” He winked and sipped his water as if he hadn’t just put a dirty image in my mind. Like I often did when it came to Cash, I ignored the part of his statement I didn’t want to deal with.

  “I doubt that. You strike me as the kind of guy who loves petite girls that nibble on salad as you regale them with the dangerous antics of a former SEAL while chomping on a big juicy steak.”

  He laughed and dammit he looked so sexy, so inviting when his face softened in laughter. All the stress lines of years in battle disappeared, leaving him a devastating mess of blond hair, dimples, and glittering emerald eyes. “I would never presume to tell a woman what to order. If you ordered a taco salad I would judge you, but only silently.”

  I couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up out of me at his witty words. Despite the intensity I always spotted in him, he was a goofball with a wicked sense of humor. “I can handle your judgment,” I snapped. I was used to being judged.

  “So, Minx,”—he sat back casually, a soothing smile on his face— “tell me about yourself.”

  My gaze narrowed, and my bullshit detector rose. “What do you want to know?” I had no real experience dealing with men on a personal level like this other than the club, and those guys treated me like a little sister so I was out of my depth. Cash was foreign territory for me.

  “Where are you from for starters?”

  “I lived in Terre Haute before…everything.”

  “Have you been back since you left?”

  Since I left? He said it like I just moved away. “Nope.”

  “Okay. Well how did you end up in Brently?”

  I slammed my glass down, bullshit meter beeping like crazy now, and glared at him. “Seriously? Are you for real right now?” It was the worst kept secret in Brently, how Magnus rescued me and helped me get on my feet.

  “I believe I am serious and for real,” he said cautiously like I was the crazy one who might lash out at any moment. “Should I know this information already?”

  My brows furrowed in confusion. “The CAOS guys gossip liked old ladies, so how could you not know?”

  He shook his head. “I asked Mick what your deal was, and he said to ask you. I tried Talon, and she said the same thing. So I’m asking you.”

  I knew I could tell Cash the cold hard truth about my past and end this flirtation right now. He would look at me the way everyone else did once they knew. Like I was spun glass that required delicate handling. Like I was a bird with a broken wing. They didn’t sympathize with me—they pitied me, and I fucking hated that. “If you don’t know about my past, why are you always trying to help me? Fix me?”

  He looked shocked. “Do I do that?”

  “Feels like it,” I shot back honestly.

  “I’m sorry about that, Minx.” He shrugged, not looking all that sorry. “I’m a man, a soldier, and a gentleman. If I see a woman carrying bags, it’s second nature to offer to carry them for her, to hold open doors, and offer help. If you want me to back off just say so. Don’t avoid me.”

  “And you will? Back off?”

  “I’ll try,” he replied with that devilish smile that said he wouldn’t try all that hard.

  I sighed, grateful for the arrival of my margarita. “This isn’t the time to tell you. Maybe another time when we’re not in public.”

  He leaned forward. “Will there be a time we’re together in a place that isn’t so public?”

  “Maybe. Depends.”

  “On what,” he asked, lips curled into a smug grin. He was so sure I wanted him, and the fact that I did only made his smile annoy me more.

  “Whether or not you eat like a farm animal.” He laughed and tossed a warm tortilla chip at me, which I promptly caught in my mouth. “Thanks.”

  “Neat trick.”

  “Jealous?”

  Cash leaned back in his chair and slung one arm across the empty space beside him as he took a sip of his beer, his eyes never left mine. “Never been jealous of a tortilla chip a day in my life. Until now.”

  I pressed my thighs together under the table to stop the building, swelling ache between them and bit back a groan.

  Then the gorgeous bastard laughed.

  Damn him.

  Chapter Two

  Cash

  Fucking Wagman had been burning up the road between Brently and Tacapeo for the past few days, and I knew he was up to no good. I watched that fucker slip across the border and back at least six times in the past three days, and every time his saddlebags were full to bursting. To anybody paying attention it would look as though a member of CAOS was doing the transporting, and I knew that shit was intentional. But I couldn’t do a damn thing about it because he wore an all-black leather vest with no club insignia.

  I followed on my Ducati just in case I found myself in a sticky situation and needed a fast getaway. Hogs were nice, reliable, All-American bikes. But this bad boy was built for speed and precision. It was a perfect stakeout vehicle. I kept a distance between us because I knew I could catch up if I needed to—for now I just wanted to observe. And I did. I watched him bypass the unmarked entrance to one of Lazarus’ stash houses and drive another twenty miles to another stash house used by the Mexican Devils. This house was situated on the border of Ozo and Clarity, which meant he had technically broken the rules.

  But watching him take cash from a young Devil I’d never seen before, I knew he was still doing dirty shit. Those packages were almost certainly drugs because the Devils were deep into heroine and coke. Legal weed across the country had put them out of the green business, and there were whispers of sex trafficking, but not even the Feds had been able to prove it. Not yet, anyway.

  I hopped back on my bike and drove toward Brently, pulling over at a truck stop to update Mick. “Yeah, Wagman was by himself, but he went over the border to pick up the packages he dropped off in Clarity.”

  “Shit! All right, good going, Cash. Now get your ass back here, and be careful.”

  “Got it.” I shoved the phone in my pocket and pulled back onto the road, eating up the cement that would carry me home at dangerous speeds. Driving the Ducati meant I had to travel light, only two pieces, but it also gave me tremendous speed.

  In my rearview I could see two bikes gaining on me, one of them belonged to Wagman. Shit. I hoped they hadn’t made me, but just in case I pressed hard on the gas and put a lot more distance between us. I was strapped, always was as a former soldier, but why risk it when it was safer to outrun them?

  This time.

  But Wagman and his buddy had the fires of hell powering their bikes and caught up to me, crisscrossing behind me and in front of me in an attempt to disorient me. But I’d been in worse situations with worse odds and unlike these old bastards, I was fresh from years as a SEAL and had youth on my side.

  In front of me, Wagman looked back with a sneer and pulled out that weak ass black pistol he was always twirling around his fingers. With less than a second to make a decision, I pressed the gas and knocked against his back tire just as he got two shots off and skidded to a stop after about a quarter mile.
The asshole kept shooting, but lucky for me, Wagman was a shitty shot. Always had been and now when he needed to be better. He wasn’t.

  The other guy slowed to a stop beside Wagman, and I finally caught a glimpse of the devil horns tattooed on his forehead identifying him as a member of the Mexican Devils. He didn’t even glance my way, so I turned the bike around and took off like a motherfuckin’ rocket. Brently here I come.

  The last thing I felt like was hanging around a bunch of men, but I needed to stop at the clubhouse to debrief with Roddick and Mick. It amazed me how, in just a few short months, Mick had taken his VP role and made it mean something. Like the debriefing, it took us all back to what we’d been trained to do by the U.S. government. Though we all had our own reasons for leaving the service, Mick made us all realize we should take the good we learned and apply it.

  It took ten minutes for the full debrief which included a map from memory of the drop house location in Ozo. “There was a Mexican Devil with him. Asshole didn’t draw his weapon or even look my way.”

  Roddick grinned. “Good. They’re just using him as transport which means he and Rocky are on their own. No back up from the cartel. Thanks, Cash, good job.”

  I accepted the clap on the back and a CAOS handshake from both men before I booked it out of the clubhouse. I loved that place, but sometimes a man just wanted to be alone. Or mostly alone, I amended after I stopped by Black Betty’s for two dinners, picked up a bottle of Jameson, and headed toward the little cottage in town Minx rented. She might be furious. I never knew what would piss off the little firecracker, but tonight I willingly risked it.

  She pulled open the door and frowned. “What are you doing here?” She didn’t seem upset just confused.

  But goddamn she looked so fucking sexy in tight red shorts and a matching tank that highlighted every single one of her dangerous curves. Her toes were painted silver with two rings on one toe, and fuck me she smelled like she’d showered with rose petals. Everything about her was soft and smooth and delicate. Sharp contrast considering her sharp tongue. “I came to see you,” I told her with the smile that made most women swoon. When that didn’t happen, I held up my loot. “And I brought dinner.”

  She took a step back and grinned. “Next time lead with the food.” Walking down the short hall that looked to be the living room, she looked over her shoulder. “Take off your shoes.”

  My eyes were glued to the round shape of her ass, looking like a question mark in profile, and I couldn’t stop staring. I knew she’d said something, but had no idea what. “Were you getting ready for bed?”

  “No, why?”

  “No reason.” Except my cock strained so hard against the zipper I knew I’d be sporting those teeth as imprints for at least a week.

  “Come on in if you’re staying and lock the door.”

  “Is that an invite?” I bit back a smile because even though Minx was a hard-ass and short with most people, I could tell she liked me. Even if she didn’t want to.

  “Do you need one?” she asked, eyebrows raised and hands on her hips.

  “No.” Letting me in was as close to an invitation as I would likely get, and I understood that.

  “Well then,” she answered and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving me to kick off my boots and follow after her. “I hope one of those meals is fried chicken,” she warned as she gathered dishes and silverware. “If not, you get water.”

  “I brought my own drink,” I told her with a smirk as I showed off my bottle of Jameson.

  “Not if one of these isn’t friend chicken, you didn’t.” Arms crossed she dared me, and I was so tempted to unscrew the cap and take a long swig. Instead, I pulled the Styrofoam containers from the plastic bag and flipped them open at the same time.

  “Fried fish and chicken. I figured we could split it.”

  Minx cocked an eyebrow, lips pursed together in an effort not to smile. But she wanted to, I could tell. She liked control of her world, and I was messing that up. “In that case, you can have ice water.”

  I laughed at her tough words as she pulled two bottles of beer from the fridge and opened them before handing one to me. “Thanks for dinner. I couldn’t imagine cooking in this dreadful heat.”

  “You could have had food delivered.”

  She frowned. “I don’t do that.”

  I could feel the frown form on my face and I tried to get rid of it, but she’d already seen it and gave me one in return. “You don’t have food delivered. Why?”

  “I don’t like strangers showing up at my door.” She said it with such a blank expression I knew I had to be missing something.

  Obviously that didn’t include me because she’d let me in, and I couldn’t deny the small measure of pride I felt at that knowledge. “Smart for a woman living alone, even a tough one. I’m guessing there’s a reason you aren’t going to share with me behind that rule?”

  Big brown eyes assessed me for a long, uncomfortable moment. She had a way with those vulnerable liquid brown eyes that made me feel like a hero returning from battle and a speck of dirt on her shoe at the same time. I wondered which she leaned toward now. “Not that I’m not appreciative, but what brings you by?”

  I guess we’re changing the subject. “Some shit went down earlier, and I wanted to see a friendly face.”

  “Yet you chose my face instead?”

  “Aw, Minx,” I joked with a charming smile, “you’re mostly friendly. When you want to be. Besides, I like looking at your face.” The blush that flooded her cheeks took me by surprise. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw any woman blush, never mind one as tough as Minx. But the more I knew her the more I glimpsed someone softer. Vulnerable.

  She looked up and her gaze slammed right into mine. “Right back atcha, Cash.”

  I knew she was uncomfortable so I leaned forward and batted my eyelashes, making her life. “Why thank you, Minx. A man does love to hear how irresistible a beautiful woman finds him.”

  Her lips twitched, but I was learning to realize that Minx came by her seriousness honestly. “Why did you need to see a friendly face?”

  She switched topics at speeds fast enough to give a man whiplash. “Club shit,” was all I answered, expecting her to ask a thousand questions I couldn’t answer. Instead, she nodded and took a long pull from the water-coated beer bottle.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Pissed off and shaken up, but good food and good company helps.”

  Minx raised her bottle to me with a grin before taking another sip and drawing my gaze to those naturally plump lips that gave me an instant hard on. Abruptly, she stood and began clearing the table in silence. She didn’t look upset or angry, but I guessed that was my cue to leave. I was about to stand when she turned with two shot glasses and a smile. “Making things fuzzy tends to help, at least in my experience.” Then she sauntered off into another room, leaving me to follow her.

  Again. She never failed to surprise me. As tough and badass as she appeared, she blushed easily and had a soft spot she hid from the world. “Thank you.”

  She nodded and held up her shot glass, both shaped and colored like avocados. I filled them both, and she tapped the edges with a grin and knocked it back while I did the same. We repeated those motions like an old married couple two more times before she finally spoke. “I’m not what you think I am.”

  “I don’t think you’re anything in particular. Well, except hot as fuck and prickly as hell.”

  She smiled, but this time it didn’t reach her eyes. Instead, they were far off. Cold. Distant. “I don’t need to be saved.”

  “I’m not in the business of saving people who don’t need it. That’s why I left the Navy.”

  “Good.” She gave a proud nod as though we’d settled something.

  “Minx?”

  “Cash,” she responded in a breathy whisper that sent a spear of fire right to my cock. Left me pulsing and aching to bury myself in her. But I wouldn’t.

  For now, I j
ust wanted something simple. “I wanna kiss you, sweetheart.”

  She nodded but I was already descending, her pretty face growing closer and closer until our mouths touched. I swept inside and she allowed it, tasting me as fervently as I tasted her. We kissed like horny teenagers making out on the sofa, letting our hands explore each other’s bodies. She was soft and silky everywhere I was hard, sharp edges.

  When she slid onto my lap, I worried I might lose my shit. In those tiny ass shorts my hands gripped her tight, but the warmth of her pussy was so hot I felt it through my jeans as she ground against me. Back and forth her hips moved along the length of my cock, and I knew we were at the point where we either stopped—or moved forward.

  And damn, I wanted to move forward.

  Her hands slid under my shirt, stroking my muscles to distraction before she finally got rid of the damned thing. “So hot,” she moaned and pressed kisses from my collarbone to my abs.

  “Your turn,” I told her and pulled the tank from her body, putting those magnificent tits right in my face. Close enough to taste them. I grabbed them both in my hands and flicking my tongue against the tight, dusky pink tips before pulling them into my mouth. God, she was so sweet and so fucking responsive, I could smell her arousal already. I slipped a hand into those red shorts and holy fuck, she coated my fingers with her juices. “Minx,” I groaned as she held my head close to her tits, urging me on.

  Her response was to grind against my hand, gaze pinned to mine in an intense look that tightened my balls. “Yes,” she moaned low and deep, stealing all of my control with another small move of her hips. Her hands flew to my waistband, unfastening my belt and my pants with an urgency that told me our kisses had affected her as much as me. “Cash.”

  “Tell me.”

  “I want you.”

  “Then have me, sweetheart.” At my words, she reached inside my boxer briefs and gripped my cock. Her gaze never left mine as she stroked me from balls to tip. “Minx.”

  She stood and pushed the red shorts down her legs before kicking them away. Climbing back on my lap she wasted no time coating my cock with the slick juices that flooded her thighs. “Condom,” she groaned, and I reached for my pocket and produced one.