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Strays (Red Kings MC Book 1)

Page 6

by Eliza Marsh


  As he was urging her to hurry, the image he saw in his mind changed. Instead of her bronze skin, he saw a delicate porcelain. Instead of her dry blonde hair, he was running his fingers through silky chestnut tresses. Instead of her face, caked in make-up, he saw the fresh, clean face of his most recent attraction.

  His frustration built, and he shoved the girl away, sighing in frustration as he continued to lean against the door. She wasn't what he was currently craving.

  Angry with himself, he pulled up his boxers and threw the door open, causing it to bang loudly against the wall. He stomped out of the bathroom, nearly colliding with Tyler.

  “D, can I talk-”

  “Not now,” he growled roughly and cut Tyler off, continuing on his way. The woman tried to follow him and even called his name, but he ignored her and continued down the hall.

  Walking through the bedroom he had occupied last night, he went into the bathroom to take a shower. Stripping, he turned the tap for hot water, steam rising and filling the small space.

  Finishing quickly, he got dressed and hurried to find Luke. As close as they were, one thing that the Macon charter president didn't tolerate was tardiness. It was worse if the reason you were late was a piece of ass. When he entered the meeting room, he saw Luke sitting at the head of the wooden table, a grim expression on his face.

  “That was quick.” Sarcasm dripped from his words, conveying his displeasure. “I sent for you, what... half an hour ago?”

  “Had to take a shower.” Dean's response was mechanic, his face blank.

  Luke raised an eyebrow, his skeptical look telling him he was on thin ice. Dean sat quickly in his seat near the head of the table and waited for the man to speak.

  “Now, about last night...”

  The atmosphere quickly changed once they started talking business, everything else forgotten. Dean sighed, grateful. That’s what he liked about his president, always to the point. He tried to focus on Luke’s words and hoped it would take the morning off of his mind.

  9

  Stepping off of the public bus, Jackie let out a sigh and walked into the lot of Eastside Mechanics. Tyler had borrowed her truck again this morning, and she was hoping she would be able to pick it up. The fact that she didn't see it parked anywhere in sight didn't bode well for that idea. She groaned in frustration, silently cursing Tyler as she headed into the clubhouse. The only people inside were Taco, TJ, and Ian. They were playing pool and filling the room with rowdy laughter. The biker she had hooked up with recently was nowhere to be seen, for which Jackie was grateful.

  Things between her and Dean had been playfully awkward, the lack of alcohol in her system bringing back her common sense and rational thought. There was nothing wrong with what they had done. It just made regular conversations between them a little weird at times. Thankfully, he didn't talk much anyway. If it weren't for Tyler's constant reminders of their drunken night, she probably would have forgotten about it already.

  At least, that's what she told herself.

  A crash snapped Jackie out of her reverie and brought her attention to the men in the room. TJ was lying in a heap on the concrete floor as he laughed hysterically, an overturned bar stool on the ground next to him. The other guys were making just as much noise, leaning against the pool table for support. Empty liquor bottles littered the bar, explaining their childish behavior. At four in the afternoon no less.

  “Cupcake!” TJ yelled at her as he made no move to get up from his casual position. “Care to join me down here? It's quite comfy.”

  “No, thank you,” she said with a shake of her head, receiving a shrug in response. “Is my boy around here anywhere?”

  “Who, Dean? He's out getting food,” Ian replied with an innocent smile, earning an eye roll from the woman.

  “I meant Tyler,” Jackie said with an exasperated sigh. Her suspicions that the whole charter knew about her escapades with their Vice President were confirmed.

  “Oh him, yeah, he's doing something with the boss man and Nash, I think. Not sure when they'll be back.”

  “Damn, guess I'm not getting my truck back then.” She crossed her arms against her chest in irritation, trying to decide her plan for the rest of the day without transportation.

  “Well, I could give you a ride somewhere if you need it,” Taco offered, scratching the back of his head nervously. The other two took the opportunity to start whistling and cracking jokes at the prospect's expense, causing the young man to blush. Jackie adored him; he was always sweet and a bit timid, but eager to please. She knew from Tyler that he had been around the club for a long time before he had been given a chance to prospect and hopefully earn his rightful place among the bikers.

  Jackie smiled at him, ignoring the childish behavior. “I'd appreciate that, thank you.”

  “Oh, I don't think so,” TJ said as he approached her, having recently vacated the floor. “You're here now. You're hanging with us.” The stocky man wrapped an arm around her shoulders and steered her towards the pool table. “You can be on Taco's team, he sucks.”

  “Do not,” the kid muttered in his defense as Jackie took the pool stick Ian offered to her.

  “It's okay,” she said as she smiled reassuringly at him. “I'm sure you're better than I am. Maybe you can give me some pointers?”

  Taco grinned sheepishly as the rest of the guys snorted and rolled their eyes. “Ye-yeah, I can do that, sure.”

  The group played pool for a while, pausing only to refill shot glasses and exchange empty beer bottles for new ones. Taco offered tips on the game where he could, earning laughs and snarky comments from the other bikers as they teased his new so-called crush. It didn't help that he would blush anytime he got close to Jackie.

  She was starting to learn a lot more about the guys, shedding some of the dangerous badass persona she had built up for them in her mind. They were regular people, for the most part, that liked to hang out and have a good time but still had responsibilities and varying shades of morals that made them human. Dangerous humans, but humans nonetheless

  As game number six continued, Jackie was beginning to feel a bit more confident about her skills. She had managed to hit a few balls into the pockets, still leaving Taco with much of the workload and them with no wins in their column. The other pair had way too much practice at the game to be beaten by just anybody. When Jackie's turn rolled around again, she stared at the table with a puzzled expression. Every possible shot was going to be difficult, even for a good player.

  She looked at Taco with a questioning smile. “Help,” she squeaked. “What do I do?”

  The young man studied the table, walking around it to try to find the most logical shot for her to take. He finally stopped to the left of the white ball, lining it up with the solid red towards a corner pocket. “Well, this is your best bet.”

  “You're joking, right? How the hell am I supposed to hit that?”

  “I mean...” he scratched the back of his head nervously. “You probably won't.” Jackie glared at him as the other guys laughed. Sighing, Taco motioned for her to come over to his side of the table. “C'mere, just angle the stick like this...” He stood behind her, moving his arms around her as he helped situate the pool stick towards the pocket. The boys howled and made crude gestures at the intimate position, but Taco did his best to ignore it. “So you wanna hit the white ball just slightly on the left side, that way it'll bounce to the right a bit and, well, in theory, hit the red ball in the direction of the pocket.”

  Ian snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, don't do that, it won't work.”

  “Shut up, Ian,” Taco mumbled, moving slightly to the left to block the laughing biker from Jackie's view. “You got this, no problem. Can't be that hard to-”

  His pep talk was cut off by the clubhouse door swinging shut with a thud. Three of the four people playing pool looked up to see the new bikers that had entered the room, but Taco was trying to stay focused on the shot. It was now a matter of pride that he, an
d also Jackie, of course, made this shot.

  It was only when Ian cleared his throat with a smirk that Taco noticed Dean for the first time.

  He was leaning against the closed clubhouse door, his arms crossed and his gaze stony. Murphy, recently returned from Florida, was standing next to him with an amused expression on his face.

  Taco hastily released the woman and stumbled back, stuttering out excuses and apologies. “Oh shit, dude. I totally didn't mean anything by it. I was just trying to help her game.”

  Dean rolled his eyes and took a step forward, causing Taco to scramble behind the bar to put an acceptable distance between himself and the large man. Dean followed, stopping in front of the young biker but keeping the wooden bar between them. “Like you could steal a woman from me,” Dean growled with a smirk as he grabbed a half-full bottle of tequila and took a large drink, his fiery eyes staring down the shaggy-haired man who stood nervously in front of him.

  Jackie took the opportunity to excuse herself from the situation and wasted no time escaping to the bathroom to collect her thoughts.

  Her retreat didn't go unnoticed as Dean watched her walk away, groaning inwardly as her body swayed. He was brought back to the present by an annoyingly smug voice coming from his left.

  “So? What's the story there?” Murphy stared at where Jackie had turned the corner, then smirked at Dean, who was glaring at him.

  “Shut up.”

  The tone was serious, and most sensible people took it as a sign to run and cower. Luckily for Murphy, they had been best friends for many years, meaning he could get away with just about anything. Therefore, the blond man simply flashed his dimples and a cocky grin.

  Dean turned his back to him with an annoyed grunt and started walking towards the hall, a sour expression on his face, causing Murphy to laugh raucously. Whistling after the tattooed man a few times for good measure, he made his way to the bar and sat on a stool. “Gimme a beer, prospect. And make it fast!”

  Dean entered the dimly lit hall, happy to be away from Murphy. The biker was like a brother to him, but he could be very annoying when he wanted to be. It was just Dean's luck that Jackie would be in the clubhouse when the biker made his return to Georgia.

  Murphy had been down in Florida for the last month helping their Lakeside charter with an issue, meaning he had missed the latest developments involving Jackie. Dean had caught up with him on his way back into town and returned to the clubhouse with him, only to find the object of his affections cozy with the prospect.

  Dean hadn't been able to shake her from his mind since their unplanned night together, the images rolling around behind his eyes every time he closed them.

  He always wanted what he wasn't supposed to have.

  Hiding in the bathroom, Jackie stared at herself in the mirror and splashed her face with cold water. She wasn't sure what was going on in her head. This wasn't the first one night stand she'd ever had, so why did she have butterflies in her stomach? It wasn't healthy and definitely was not what she needed right now. She took a few moments to collect herself. After taking a deep breath, she headed out of the bathroom so she could tell the guys to relay a message to Tyler and get the hell out of dodge.

  Jackie was so focused on escaping the clubhouse that she didn't notice the biker leaning against the wall. She nearly collided with Dean, a yelp leaving her mouth as she brought a hand to her chest. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and counted to five in her head before opening them again.

  “You okay?” he asked with a knowing smirk, still leaning casually against the dark green paint.

  She sucked in a sharp breath when he spoke, chills running down her spine at the resonating baritone of his voice, but nodded her head nonetheless. “Yeah, fine,” she whispered, hoping she sounded nonchalant. When he didn't say anything, she opened her mouth to continue, only to have him press her up against the wall roughly. “Wh-what are you doing?” Her breathing became ragged, her mind fuzzy, as his face loomed closer to hers.

  “What's it look like I'm doing?” His lips were a breath away, the look in his eyes full of lust and ill-intention. Without waiting any longer, he kissed her, his mouth hot and demanding.

  Jackie didn't waste any time in responding. She was a weak woman when he was around, couldn't resist him and the electric attraction they shared. Their tongues battled and his hands explored, running over her sides and slipping under her shirt. He hiked her up into his tattooed arms, breaking the kiss only to give the same treatment to her neck.

  "Dean," she panted, trying to hold in a groan as he roughly nipped her neck. "We're not supposed to be doing this."

  "That's what makes it so good," he whispered against her skin with a devilish smirk she couldn't see.

  With a comfortable hold on her, he started walking to one of the back rooms to avoid interruption. There was no way he was stopping this and if they continued out in the corridor, someone was bound to pass by and see them. He entered a vacant room and shoved the door closed with his foot, quickly dropping Jackie onto the bed. He hung his leather cut off the side of a chair, then tossed his shirt and boots to the floor. Joining her on the bed, he kissed her again let his hands roam.

  She was burning up inside, and his touch was driving her insane with need. Foreplay was not needed; merely looking at him got her all hot and bothered. They had been playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse since their previous bedroom encounter. Dean was too proud to admit he wanted Jackie again, and she was too afraid of him to do the same. But now that those admissions were out of the way and he was touching her again, she couldn't wait for round two.

  Their labored breathing was the only thing that could be heard in the room. When her shirt and jeans joined Dean's clothes on the ground, he looked at her, his eyes dark with want. His gaze promised that he'd do delightful things to her, making her flush even more with anticipation.

  10

  Jackie walked across the parking lot of Eastside Mechanics, the warm August sun beating down on her. She had talked to Dean a few days ago, letting him know she had finally finished the drawing for his bike and would be able to paint it on whenever he could part from the machine for an afternoon.

  Dean and Tyler walked out of the garage to greet her as she got out of her truck. “Where is everybody?” she asked curiously, knowing she probably wouldn't get a straight answer.

  “Out,” Dean said with a small smile, effectively telling her that it was a top-secret club thing that she wasn't allowed to know about.

  “Right. So why aren't you guys 'out' with them?”

  “We will be. As soon as you hand over the keys to your truck.” Dean grinned at her as Tyler stood awkwardly in the background. He still wasn't used to the odd relationship evolving between his mentor and his best friend.

  “The keys to my truck? Why would I give you those?”

  “Because I want collateral in case something happens to my bike while it's here, alone, with you.” Dean looked down at her with a smirk as she laughed. “And there's no way I'm gonna ride bitch with anyone, especially him.” He gestured over his shoulder to the young computer nerd.

  “We certainly wouldn't want that,” she teased, tossing her key ring to him. “But I better not see any scratches on it when you get back.” She moved to the bed of her truck to grab her bag of airbrush equipment. “So, where is that lovely bike of yours?”

  Just as her hand touched the fabric of the bag, Dean reached around her and picked it up, hoisting it quickly over his shoulder and motioning for her to follow him. “I put it in bay four, so hopefully you'll have some peace and quiet.” They arrived at said bay, and Dean sat the bag down gently next to his bike. “I told the mechanics you'd be in here, so they shouldn't bother you.” He moved closer, and she had to crane her neck upwards to look at him. “But if they do give you any trouble, call me.”

  She nodded, and he watched her for a minute, making sure that she understood what he was saying. “I'll be fine,” she said reassuringly, sm
iling up at him. He leaned down to place a brief but passionate kiss on her lips before giving her a wink and jogging to the truck.

  Jackie watched as they headed out of the lot to join the rest of the bikers at some secret location. She turned into the garage, waving at Tank, the chief civilian mechanic, as he entered the bay next to hers.

  When she finally got around to the design half an hour later, she started by making an outline on the gas tank of the bike of what she planned to draw. It was sometime in the middle of this process that she got her first interruption.

  “Woah, what the fuck are you doing?”

  Jackie jerked at the sudden noise, causing the airbrush to leave an unattractive line across the surface of the bike.

  “Oh my god!” The voice behind her became even more panicked, and she turned to see a hysterical Taco, hands fisted in his hair. “What have you done? Dean is gonna kill us all!”

  “Taco, relax.”

  “Relax?” His voice seemed to go up a couple of octaves as he paced frantically. “You've ruined his bike!”

  Jackie laughed and set her tools down before getting up and placing herself in front of the prospect. “Taco, do you honestly think that I would purposefully ruin Dean's bike, knowing full well what his reaction would be?”

  “I don't know. You chicks are crazy!”

  She smiled and picked up her sketchbook to show him the picture that would eventually appear on the motorcycle. “Dean wanted me to paint the club logo on his bike. I should be able to finish this afternoon if I don't have too many distractions.” She gave him a pointed look, hoping he would take the hint and leave her in peace. His expression remained skeptical, and she sighed. “You don't believe me, call him.”

  Taco stared at her for a moment, then pulled out his cell phone and dialed, his eyes not leaving her as if he expected her to disappear should he look away. “Uh, hey D. It's Taco.” He paused briefly, then stuttered as he tried to collect his words quickly. “Erm, is Jackie supposed to be painting your bike?”

 

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