by Jayne Blue
“I’d like a quiet table.”
“Whatever you say, Prez.”
“And there’s a brunette, Bess Geary, allegedly meeting me here in a bit.”
“I’ll polish the silver.” Pinky gave me a wink, and his hostess showed me to a dark, quiet corner. This dark setting would cause Bess either relief that she would not be recognized, or send her running the other way. Fifty-fifty odds I figured.
When Pinky showed her back, to my surprise, she didn’t bolt; instead, she walked in, long legs, long neck, and class from head to toe. She wore a trench coat that she had cinched at the middle with a belt and looked like an old time movie star. Or a Charlie’s Angel. Who the fuck knew? I just knew I wanted her.
I stood up and she slid into the corner booth with me.
We were as close as we had ever been and I was trying like hell not to run my hand over her legs. Or put a hand on hers.
It was tough not to scare her with the fierce emotion I felt every time I was in a room with her. It was a little insane and sure to make her skittish.
“So, Sawyer McCall. Tell me about yourself.”
“I’m a mild-mannered M.C. President, my M.C. runs the Great Wolves Gym, and you’ve also been to The Wolf Den. We also do security, for places like this fine establishment.”
“It seems like there’s more to your story. Biker business manager, that’s your deal? It’s a little walk on the mild side.”
“I suppose so. Truth?”
“Sure.”
“I was sent here to clean up Grand City. Great Wolves M.C. has been going legit all across the country. No more drugs, or guns, or well other stuff, we’re all going legit.”
“Sounds like a tough job actually. So are you an outlaw?”
“Depends on the state we’re talking about,” and I gave her a wink so she knew I was only half-serious.
“Here’s the thing change is always tough. If you do not adapt, you do not survive and the Great Wolves M.C. wants to survive. It’s all above board, more or less at all our M.C.s.”
“Darn, I thought I’d increase my cool factor, you’re only part outlaw.”
“I can swear I have a checkered past. That work for you darlin’?”
“It’ll do.” I decided to see if I could turn the tables.
“So here’s what I know about Bess Geary. She’s a good friend, she’s a good mother and a damn good social worker. I also know her lips taste a bit like cherry.” I slid just a hair closer and inhaled her sweet perfume.
I saw a blush creep up from her graceful neck to her cheekbones. I rattled her with just a tiny bit of dirty talk. I wanted to move every part of her. She looked down and ran a finger around the rim of her wine glass. She had been nursing one for the thirty minutes we sat there.
“So, yes on all three, mother, social worker, and I maybe had a cherry cough drop that night.”
“It works for you. So how does a woman as gorgeous, talented and as fruit-flavored remain single?”
“I am shitty, really shitty, at picking husbands, so since my divorce, I’ve focused on Henry and work. More recently, I’ve enjoyed the occasional MMA fight thanks to Cassidy.”
“I keep meaning to thank that girl for that. How is she doing in the new job?”
“Excellent, but maybe too excellent. She would work herself into the ground I think if I didn’t insist she leave and go home to Craddock and Dylan.” Craddock was the Great Wolves Gym success story. He started out with us and was at the top of the fight game. Since Craddock, we had half a dozen big name fighters turn Great Wolves Gyms into a hot commodity wherever we opened.
“I imagine she learned it from you.”
Bess looked me in the eye and smiled. Her warm brown eyes pulled me in. I was mesmerized by the way her lips curled up.
I am one-hundred percent sure that the second before she gave me that smile, I had my heart securely in my chest. In the instant she laid her warmth on me, really aimed it in my direction, and let me know that I caused her smile, my heart was in her hands.
She didn’t know it, but I did. Without a doubt, she had me.
I am sure I was staring. I was dead fucking serious about her.
“What?”
“I’m just wondering how to keep making you smile.”
“How about sharing your lasagna?”
“I can do that. Not liking your pasta?”
“Oh, I love it but yours look good, too.”
I took a chance and put a forkful together. She could have slapped me, waved me off, or told me to fuck off, but she didn’t. She leaned in and wrapped those pretty lips around my fork. I could have pulled her down on the booth and had her right then - it was so damn sexy.
It was as far as she went. She asked me more about my business; I answered and tried to let her know I was mostly a respectable citizen.
She was funny, interesting, and smelled so good. Before we knew it, she had finished a bottle of wine, more or less, and it was getting late.
She looked at her phone and realized the time and her predicament.
“Shit.”
“What?”
“It’s almost eleven!”
“That’s not all that late.”
“For me it is! Drop off for Henry is early tomorrow.”
“Well, then, I guess we’ll have to share food again another night.”
“I, uh, yes, I guess so.”
I put enough cash for the bill and a generous tip on the table then slid out and offered her a hand. She also put money down, not forgetting the idea that this was not a date. Pinkel would be thrilled at that tip.
Bess took my hand and it was the first time we had touched since six months ago. A charge of sexual energy shot from her fingers through mine and I realized I was going to have an uncomfortable and lonely night.
I knew then that I was going to have her, now, tomorrow, next week, whenever. But it was going to happen.
She leaned into me and pressed her soft chest up to mine. Well, what do you know about that? My charm was working on her. Her soft body felt so good that I stifled a groan.
“I think I’m going to have to call a cab.”
“Are you up for adventure Bess Geary?”
“I think I am.”
I put an arm around her and helped her put her coat on. As we passed Davey on our way out, I let him know about Bess’s car.
“She’s got a Chrysler minivan, silver. Can you keep it in the lot overnight?”
“Will do. See you tomorrow Ms. Geary.”
“Thank you.”
We went out to my motorcycle. She was leaning on me a little as we walked. In her work heels, she was probably 5’8 or better, and still a good five inches shorter than I was. A perfect fit really.
“So we’re going on this?”
“Yes,” I said, then put a helmet on her head and attached the chinstrap.
“What about the skirt?”
“I love the skirt, not a problem.” I leaned in, slid my hand up from her knee, and with my fingers came the skirt, up, up, up.
“Ah!” She gasped a little and her breathing got deep but she let me do what I wanted to get her on the bike. I guided her and held her hand as she lifted one long leg around the other side. I looked for just a moment at the thigh, the gorgeous calf, and those sexy-as-hell heels.
I let go of her hand and got on.
“You’re going to want to wrap your arms around me.”
“I am.”
“Now hold on.”
“Don’t go too fast.”
“We’ll see. Where to?”
“1964 Lynwood Drive.”
“Got it.”
I drove her, as slow as I could, but fast enough. Her chest pressed into my leather felt right. I heard her squeal with fear and glee as I picked up speed.
Chapter Four
Bess
I had never been on a motorcycle before. Sawyer was warm, in command, and had me thinking all the dirtiest thoughts. I never got what it was about
a man on a bike that got women hot. Now I understood.
The wind was in my face, we sped along, it was the closest thing to flying as I could imagine.
I almost wished I had not told him my address so quickly. I wanted to keep going, but we were only ten minutes away from my place.
I lived in a neat, clean, and modest neighborhood. I was proud as hell of my little brick bungalow. I had made a home here for Henry and me.
As we pulled into the driveway, I wondered if Sawyer, former outlaw, thought I was trite, or domesticated, boring, or whatever. I probably was.
Raising a kid on your own, taking care of a house, managing a department, that was top-level responsible adult mode. That is who I was. To a biker, I imagined that could not possibly be sexy. Just for one second, I wanted to be something else. Someone else. I decided to ride on Sawyer’s bike.
The bike was huge and I wondered if I was not going to face plant getting off it, but not a chance. This time, instead of offering his hand, Sawyer scooped me up from the bike and onto my feet.
“Damn good service.”
“Let me walk you to the door.”
I was buzzed, no getting around it, and I was aroused as hell. I was also curious and a good bit of lonely completed my hormonal cocktail. There it was. I was lonely.
“Come in for a moment?”
“You don’t have to ask me twice,” the way he said it made my toes curl. It had been cold outside but the wine and my rising attraction had me feeling flushed.
In a half-second, we were inside and Sawyer was helping me with my coat. My plan was to get him a beer; he drank beer while I had wine at the restaurant. As he helped me with my coat, I lost my composure.
I turned around and raked a hand across his stubble. He was all man and I had been all alone. Something inside me broke free just a little.
He took my hand in his and leaned in. His eyes locked with mine and I swayed my hips toward his, it was involuntary and primal. The physical longing that I had suppressed started to drive every move.
Sawyer’s lips pressed softly to mine. I held my breath and felt my own mouth opening. I felt his hands slide around to my neck. I was happily locked close to him.
My blood raced and every part of me felt unchained, almost dizzy. I leaned back, closed my eyes, and let his kiss deepen.
I felt high and there was a thrumming in my ears.
I lost my balance and nearly fell to the floor. It was a full on sex induced wine-fueled swoon.
“Whoa, I got you, Bess. I got you.” He whispered it into my ear. His hot breath was out of this world and it was also the sound of my most recent fevered dreams. He was in the flesh but part of me was pretending this was a dream.
I am ashamed to say I do not really remember what came next exactly. The action slowed way down, I know that much.
“When we do this you’re going to remember it,” he said and disappointment washed over me at the same time a curtain came down on my ability to stay awake.
It had to be six hours or so later when all hell broke loose.
I woke up with a start to the doorbell ringing repeatedly and a pounding on the doorframe.
It took me a second to release where I was. I was on my couch. I also realize that yet again I had almost made love to Sawyer McCall.
My head was pounding like the door. Sawyer had covered me with the afghan I had crocheted. I knew I was probably rumpled as hell, but I was dressed. I am sure I had couch texture imprints on my cheeks but the door knocking and ringing did not stop.
“Bess. Open the door. I texted you. You need to take Henry. Now.”
Chris Geary, my ex, was supposed to be here at 10 a.m. after he’d had breakfast with his son, but his weekends were just that, his weekends.
He didn’t worry about Henry’s schedule, mine, or the court. He only worried about himself and his new wife.
“Candice and I have an event. Answer the door immediately.”
Immediately. Yeah, that was Chris Geary. Entitled, rich, silver spoon, demanding, and the father of the most important person in my world.
“Coming, coming.”
I rushed to the door, things had gotten worse since Candice had entered the picture and they were not great before. The upside is that Henry didn’t know anything different. Chris had bolted the minute I got pregnant and we have been separated his entire life.
I opened the door and gave Chris a look as I held out a hand for Henry. Chris shoved Henry’s backpack into my free arm.
“Jesus, you don’t respond to the text and then you look like shit.”
“Can you go put this in your room honey?” I kissed Henry on the cheek and ignored Chris for a second. As Henry made tracks for his room, I responded to Chris. I shouldn’t but he pushed every one of my damn buttons.
“Look, I appreciate if you don’t swear at me in front of our child.”
“I appreciate it if you have a little courtesy and professionalism. Did you sleep in your clothes? And who the hell’s bike is outside? One of your indigent loser clients?”
“Professionalism? How about you have some respect for the mother of your child and not be such a colossal dick?” Henry was out of sight and earshot thank God.
I had gone there, Chris had brought me right to the worst moments of our shamble of a marriage, and it took less than one minute.
“Such class you’ve always had. Candice is so right about you, one step up from white trash, maybe not a step.” He had advanced in on me. He was taller, stronger, and meaner than I was. I, however, was enraged that he made every encounter an ordeal.
“Back the fuck up.”
Out of nowhere Sawyer had appeared, and stood in front of me facing Chris. I had not processed the bike comment; I should have realized he was still here, the blanket and throw pillow on the floor. He had slept on the floor. I actually smelled breakfast, too. He had made breakfast.
Instead of sharing bacon and eggs, he was dealing with wrath and acrimony. The lovely duo that appeared when Chris and I were together. The anger I had at Chris was pushed aside for a moment by embarrassment at the situation.
Hi there potential love interest! This is the shit show of my personal life! How fast can that bike go? Yeah, this was brilliant.
“Oh, the motorcycle, slumming are we?” Chris said but his bravado was fading. He may be a dick but he was not stupid. Sawyer had him on height, muscle, hair, and bad assery. This was an easy calculation and Chris made it quickly.
He looked around Sawyer.
“Candice is right. I would watch yourself, Bess. Good mothers don’t have thugs stay overnight.”
“Get out of here,” I said.
“Gladly.”
Chris sneered in Sawyer’s direction and I swore Sawyer stifled a chuckle. Chris turned and slammed the door behind him. I covered my face with my hands. There is just no recovery from a scene like that.
“I’m sorry you had to see that,” I said through the shield of my fingers. God my head hurt. Could I just be invisible?
“I’m sorry you had to live it.” Sawyer put his hands to my wrists and slowly pulled my hands down. He held on.
I wanted him to hug me. I wanted him to stay. I wanted.
Chris’s words struck at me in my deepest and most terrifying place.
Good mothers do not have thugs stay overnight.
Ever since Candice realized Henry tied Chris and me together, she wanted to get Henry away from me. I knew this. I feared this. Her own infertility was also making Henry more and more an issue.
A leather-clad biker in my living room at 6 a.m. on a Saturday morning was a step in the wrong direction for my custody situation.
“You need to go.” I was cold. I was mean. I was serious. I wanted Sawyer but there was no place for want in my life.
“Bess, it’s okay.”
“Please.” I took a step back from him and crossed my arms over my chest. My ride with Sawyer McCall was over before it began.
That’s the way it h
ad to be.
Chapter Five
Sawyer
The sting of the air on my face was not as biting as the sting I had felt from Bess. She shut down fast after her ex made his appearance.
I rode back to the M.C. with the early morning air reminding me that Bess was not on the back of the bike. I liked having her there way too much. For the first time ever the ride was missing something. It was her.
When we got to her place last night, I pulled back. I realized she was tipsier than she intended. Hell, maybe that is what she needed - to let it rip with an outlaw and a little wine. I got that.
I didn’t take advantage of a woman who was not sure what she wanted. Both times we had been together her resolve failed. Both times, she had had cocktail or two.
Oh, she felt what I felt. I had no doubt of that now. I had no doubt I could talk to her for hours. We had done it. I also had no doubt I wanted to be in bed with her for hours. When it happened, it was going to happen with her fully present. With her fully committed.
When it happened with us, it was going to be explosive. I had a real feeling I would have a hard time stepping away.
So, I would wait.
She was scared now. I had taken Henry into the kitchen, we were old buds, thanks to Cassidy, and he happily plopped himself down in front of the food I had made.
It broke my heart to see his face when the fighting started. He tried to ignore it. It was a fact of his life. It scared me to think how much these three people were connected and how much they could destroy each other.
I had seen real love before and it gutted you. Or it could.
Maybe Bess turning on the ice was the best thing. I was sure she could grind my heart into tiny pieces. Maybe she was doing me a favor. I had enough to handle with the M.C. right now.
That, of course, was a lie I was telling myself.
I would let her grind anything of mine she damn well wanted. I could be patient to a point. I could wait. For a little.
Bess Geary had not scared me off. Not by a long shot.
I got back to the M.C. and it was time to get to business. No one was up, naturally. We ran a biker bar and that meant late nights and late morning at best.