by K. J. Dahlen
“I took a chance you had a website that listed your engagements, and voilà!” he said. “We come here all the time, so it wasn’t a special trip.”
“We?” Mariah heard the disappointment in her own voice. Damn, she thought, ‘We’ means he has a girlfriend, which totally sucked because he was becoming more perfect every time he opened his mouth.
“Dark Riders. Carl’s Little Big House is our favorite watering hole. A biker’s haven. You picked up on that, right?” The corners of his lips curled up.
“I don’t know guys from bikers unless they’re on a bike. I always figure I’m singing to good ol’ working-class America.”
“That too, probably. Bikers take all kinds.” He looked behind her to see the band finishing their set, the drums all back where they should be. “Mind if we stay for a couple of sets?”
Suddenly she was nervous. Singing to strangers was one thing. But there was something about Cody that made Mariah feel vulnerable. She wasn’t sure if she could sing in front of him. Just the thought of it released a powerful blush that burned her face.
“You okay?” he asked her, and touched her face tenderly.
She leaned into his hand, letting his thumb rub over her lip.
“You look a little hot,” he said wickedly. “Are you hot, Miss Mariah?”
She had no words. She imagined what his touch could do to other places on her body. What those fingers were capable of starting.
He kept it up. “Can I get you a drink?” he offered. “Water? Whiskey? Or something else?”
“No.” She swallowed. “I’m fine,” she lied.
He tilted his head and smiled a cocky, knowing look. “Why do I get the feeling people have a hard time doing nice things for you because you won’t let them?”
She blinked with surprise. “Okay,” she relented. “A tall glass of ice water please.”
“That’s more like it,” he said with a wink.
That wink could be dangerous, thought Mariah. It sent a flutter of heat through her body that made her feel like sex. With him. Mariah knew clearly that she wanted to fuck Cody Dallas at least once in her lifetime. If she were the predatory type, she could go on the hunt for him immediately, except she was tired and so done with men. Especially because of the trouble Nelson had caused. No more bikers. No more men—for a little while. “After the first set. I don’t need anything now,” she called out to him as he walked away.
She glanced around the bar. The place had filled up quickly. Mariah noticed a similarity, that many of the patrons sported emblems.
One she could make out. The Robinson Street biker emblem. Friends of Nelson Primeaux. Maybe it was a coincidence, but Mariah didn’t think so. More like word spread quickly that they were the reason Nelson got jacked and she was about to be delivered a message.
Cymbals crashed to the ground, and a very nervous Lenny scurried to pick the stand up. Mariah and the other band members exchanged looks as they began to play. The first songs went through on automatic, but the bar continued to fill. The whole situation was throwing them off and they were beginning to lose count and playing really badly. After four songs, Mariah decided to pause and talk to them. Her eyes roamed the bar and settled on a table with a set of barbell biceps resting on it.
“We’re taking a short break. We’ll be right back. I’m Mariah Brannigan, and my band’s Gravel.”
Lenny mumbled something about needing a drink. “Come on; I’ve got an idea,” Mariah said to Lenny and she sauntered off-stage to Cody’s table. He sat, Adam on a stool beside him, both drinking, and watching them.
She smiled when he caught her coming his way. “We’re seeing that there are an awful lot of Nelson’s boys here,” Mariah said to him when she was within earshot.
“We noticed the same. What exactly did you do to piss him off? I didn’t think he had a heart to break.” Cody smirked, obviously pleased he’d stepped in earlier and put Nelson to the floor.
Cody Dallas had the greenest eyes Mariah had ever seen in real life. It was as if someone photo-shopped him, they were that perfect. A tangle of wild, thick eyelashes thatched his lids. His rich brown hair was equally wild, short, but curls and wild waves were trying to break through the minute it was long enough. He’s striking, thought Mariah. Just gorgeous. And close enough to kiss.
“She didn’t do anything,” Lenny interjected hotly on her behalf.
Cody put his hands up in truce. “Take it easy, buddy,” said Cody. “I was teasing. You know how to joke? Ha-ha?”
“There’s nothing funny about this. We can’t work because some guy has her up his ass. Or he wants up hers. What the fuck!” Lenny grabbed the bottle of beer Cody offered and took a long swig. “My drums are all fucked up, too. It works, but it’s not the same.”
“They expensive?” Cody asked.
Lenny nodded. “They’re worth more than some people’s cars. Or bikes.”
Adam suggested they get insurance involved or have the bar pay for it.
Lenny looked at the guy like he was an idiot. Mariah covered her mouth, trying to hide her smile. Skinny Lenny ticked was comical. Lenny glared at the biker. “We can’t make any sort of claim against Carl’s, or Beale will never let us back. I want this asshole stopped!” Lenny slammed his empty bottle on the table.
“So how’d this all happen?” asked Cody, narrowing in on Mariah.
But Lenny butted in angrily, “She was singing. Primeaux asked her out. She said no.”
Cody smiled but Mariah could tell he was just being polite. “Can I hear what she has to say?”
He winked again, only this time it meant something else. It still stirred her. She loved it. She would definitely be replaying the wink in her mind over and over again for days to come. Mariah was looking forward to the next time he did it.
“Fine!” Lenny huffed. “I need another beer anyways.” He stomped toward the bar, his skinny frame looking even more out of place amongst the large bikers around him.
“So what happened?” Cody asked Mariah.
“Lenny described it.” She shrugged. “We had a long-standing gig at Virgo’s, and Nelson started showing up. He was fine at first but then he wouldn’t go. Other people would come up and say hi, or ask for autographs, or just want to talk to the band. Except ugly, dumb-ass Nelson was hanging around. He scared them away.” She noticed a tall glass of ice water beside Cody’s whiskey and slid her arm across the table. She curled her fingers around the glass, taking a moment to enjoy the coldness against her warm palm. “What can you do? I pretended to be gracious, but then it got annoying.”
“And if you don’t say go away, he thinks you like him. I get it,” said Cody. “Gotta be awful to be a beautiful woman in the public eye.”
The compliment jolted Mariah. She knew she was attractive, generally speaking, but to hear him say so was startling. She tried to not be obvious when she sat up a little straighter.
“That may be, but now her problem has become our problem,” said Lenny as he returned with two bottles of beer and handed one to Cody. “I’m the reason Nelson got hauled in. I feel like I have a price on my head.”
“You do,” said a huge man at a round top, cryptically.
He was the kind of huge where he was sort of fat but enormous and definitely had muscle underneath. A couple of the Robinson Street bikers pulled their chairs very closely behind Cody and Adam in particular, till their faces were almost cheek to cheek. Cody glanced at Mariah darkly, like all hell was about to break loose.
Lenny took a step forward toward the man but Cody instinctively held him back. Mariah saw as the muscles in Cody’s arms bulged with power. He nodded to Adam, who was anticipating his signal. Adam rose from the table and headed outside, but returned quickly.
Minutes later, a hum grew louder and louder, seemingly cramming against the walls of Carl’s. Some ten bikers with the Dark Riders insignia filed into the bar. Mariah thought there would be more, given the noise of the bikes. She didn’t feel easy at all with the
bikers being there. But her bandmates liked it.
“Is that better?” Cody asked the band.
They smiled. Even Lenny nodded reluctantly.
“Back on stage, guys,” Mariah said. They reassembled on the stage and began playing the second set.
“I dedicate this to Cody Dallas,” Mariah said flirtatiously. She proceeded to kill the song, giving one of her best performances ever.
Cody raised a glass to her and winked.
3
The evening was a long one. Amazingly, there wasn’t a single scuffle for the rest of the night, but the tension was so thick, Mariah felt like it pushed up against her on stage. There was no reward in the music either. It was the one thing she truly loved, to sing the songs her band played, but tonight it was all exhausting. It felt like a job just trying to get through so she and her band could get paid.
As she and the rest of the band were breaking down their equipment, one of the men from the audience approached her.
“Hey, Mariah,” he said, a small ounce of friendliness in his tone. “Good sound. Guess you know Primeaux is spending the night in county lock-up.”
Mariah tensed. “I’m sorry about that. If he’d have left me alone—” she began.
But the man waved away her excuse. “It’s cool,” he said. “You gotta do what you gotta do. I just don’t understand the hostility, that’s all. The Robinson Street bikers love you. I mean, why bring in a bunch of punks to our scene?” he asked. “If Nelson’s misbehaving, why not let us handle our own, that’s all I’m saying.”
“Thanks for expressing yourself,” she said. “I have to finish up here. Listen…”
“Dalton,” said the biker. “My name’s Dalton, with the Robinson Street bikers.”
“Yeah, well, let me know next time you’re here. I’ll tell the doorman your cover is on me.” She smiled. The guy was harmless. He just wanted to come to listen to the music.
“So you’ll leave the Dark Riders out of this, right?” asked Dalton.
“No,” said Cody from behind him menacingly, “she won’t.”
Without warning, Dalton cocked back and took his best shot. Cody blocked it easily and returned with a punch of his own. It was like bikers had a sixth sense when it came to fights. The action on the stage became a magnet, and within a few breaths everyone from both clubs was in on it.
Mariah and the band pressed themselves against the wall and waited till it was over, terrified a fist might fly out, or worse, a weapon of some kind.
The manager of the bar blasted them all over a loud speaker to leave the bar. He even dropped the lights, and the room was immersed in pitch blackness.
Immediately, hands were on Mariah. At first she was shocked and reached to swat them away. Then in the next instant, she was thrilled. She knew whose hands they were. She recognized Cody’s energy.
Even in the complete blackness of the situation, he found her. He gently drew her back against him, turned her face, and kissed her. Fists continued to fly as his soft warm lips pressed against hers. His tongue snaked in between her lips and tasted. She wrapped her arms around his massive shoulders and pressed her body against hers.
His hands skated down her backside and cupped her ass. He squeezed and he kneaded boldly as their tongues mated, entwining as their yearning for one another grew. Mariah was pretty sure she moaned. For the second time, cops flooded the parking lot of Carl’s. This time they brought paddy wagons.
“Lights!” someone shouted.
On cue, the house lights came back up. Mariah and Cody jumped apart. The bar was completely destroyed. Cops tackled the brawling fighters.
Cody and Mariah stared at each other, almost oblivious to the chaos bursting all around them.
Adam and Cody were on the staged with Mariah and the band. They hopped over Dalton, who was lying on the ground. The two big guys grabbed instruments like they were helping to pack up. They pretended they were part of the band, and so the cops left them alone. Cody and Mariah stole secret glances at each other, each with the same horny expression. When the place was cleared up, the manager, Beale, stormed up to them.
“Here’s your money,” he said angrily to Mariah. “If I find you’re behind all this, you’re never coming back here again. Look at this place!”
“Hey,” said Cody abruptly. “What if my guys and I come back here tomorrow first thing in the morning and fix everything? Materials, labor, the whole nine yards? It’ll be like it never happened.”
“I’m not paying you,” snapped Beale, though he was clearly considering it.
“Not asking you to,” said Cody. “The guys and I’ll fix this, gratis.”
“Fine,” said Beale tersely. “For now, get out of here before I tell the cops you ain’t with them.”
Cody and Adam helped the band load their equipment to carry out to the band’s van. Lenny went ahead of them and started cursing.
“Bullshit! Damn it! What the flying fuck?!”
“What’s going on?” Mariah moved around Cody to see what had upset Lenny so badly.
“Someone slashed our fucking tires!”
All four tires were completely destroyed. She knew the band knew it wasn’t her fault, but each of them cut their eyes at her one by one.
“Hang on, guys,” said Cody, putting a protective arm around Mariah. “We know someone. I can either have this towed to where you want, or I can have four tires out here and you can drive yourself. This is partly our club’s fault. What do you want?”
Lenny sighed, “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.” He glared at the rows of bikes parked across the lot. “Just tow it to my place. I store the equipment. I’ll ride with the tow truck driver. I guess the rest of you all can take cabs.”
Mariah reached into her pocket and split the earnings with the other two. “This happened because of me. Let me pay for this. I feel like this has gone beyond Nelson’s doing stuff to me. This is affecting you. And if you guys want to part ways with me, I understand.” She had a feeling Lenny wanted to call it quits. Or take a break till Nelson disappeared.
But to her surprise, they didn’t feel that way.
“We’re a band and we’re friends. We stick together. We’ll handle this,” Lenny said.
Adam stayed with them until the tow truck took the van and the cabs picked up the guys. Mariah accepted a ride from Cody, telling the others she wanted to make sure none of Nelson’s gang was hanging around her house. She doubted it, because her address was unlisted, but it wouldn’t be hard for one of these bikes to follow a cab. Riding on the back of Cody’s bike was the safest place for her. And the hottest.
Once again she was in a little-nothing dress as she climbed onto the back of Cody’s bike. Like he had eyes in the back of his head, he reached behind him and found the back of her knees, pulling her body close up around his. Mariah leaned into him. She lifted the visor of her borrowed helmet.
“Do you remember the way to my place?” she asked, hoping that that didn’t sound too much like a come-on.
“The way to your place is burned into my memory,” he said boldly.
His words electrified her, catapulting her into an erotic zone, and every move and nuance from there forward became foreplay for her. This sort of thing did not happen to her often. Mariah felt like she’d just raided a bowl of buttercream frosting. Her insides were liquid and her entire body, inside and out, turned ultra-sensitive. As her breasts pressed against the hard expanse of his back, she grew intensely aroused. She laid her head against him like he was her man. For the few nerve-wracking minutes to her place, he was.
She just hoped no one took it out on him that she was riding with him. Nelson would soon know, like he had before. The scenery of old Baltimore at night was romantic, if not a little dangerous. Some parts of the city were just plain unsafe to be in. She just hoped that no one was following them. It didn’t matter what kind of fighter Cody might be. It wasn’t just the rival bikers; Mariah could feel it in the pit of her stomach that they needed to r
oll along.
But Cody took the back way to her place. He ran a few stop signs, cautiously, until they were out of harm’s way. The longer route gave her a chance to adjust to the jolt of attraction for him that she was wallowing in. It slowed things down a bit. She did her best to completely enjoy it.
Yet there was something intensely sexy about a guy who knew his way around. Or maybe Mariah just found everything about Cody Dallas incredibly hot. He tooled around into the older suburbs that led to her place without asking for one suggestion. And there were no do-overs. Mariah was impressed and dying to feel his lips on hers again.
He pulled his bike into her driveway. Mariah dismounted first. She reflexively lowered the hem of her Lycra dress that had hiked up and snuggly fit her curves. She could see the slightly elongated shadows of her legs as cast from the white street light shining behind her. In the heels, even in the distorted shadowing images, her legs looked good and she was glad.
She was more pleased when the first thing he did when he removed his helmet was walk all over her with his eyes. He looked like he was going to eat her for a late supper. Mariah could only hope.
They locked eyes, both of them floating on the thick, intoxicating attraction they had for one another. They stepped toward one another. One of his hands cupped the back of her head, and the other grazed the flatness of her stomach as he pressed his lips to hers, finally.
Mariah opened for him as his hot, wet tongue glided around her mouth. Every stroke of it made her shiver. She never had such a powerful reaction from someone she kissed. But their chemistry was wild. He had her head spinning and her body melting.
“You wanna come inside?” she asked huskily.
“More than you know,” he murmured. He laughed softly as he stroked a stray strand of hair out of her face. “Helmet hair,” he teased. “Yes, I want to come inside your house. I want have a look around and make sure that all the windows and doors are locked, but then I’m going to head home.”
Mariah’s heart sank. She was not one to climb into bed with someone easily, but for Cody Dallas she would make the exception. She thought they were on the same wavelength. Her disappointment must have shown on her face.