Oliver (Inked Menace Motorcycle Club #2): Shapeshifting Bikers
Page 2
“Hi, sweetie,” Maura said and rubbed her back in soothing motions. “What’s all this about? You okay, baby girl?”
All Amara could do was shake her head as big, fat tears rolled down her cheeks and she broke into a torrent of sobs and quiet agony.
“Hey, hey,” Maura said, leading her out of the meeting room and toward a sofa near the back of the large open space. “You never cry, sweetie. I’ve seen you take a bullet, almost lose a limb, and chop heads off our enemies with glee. You’re scaring me, noodle.”
Amara lifted her face and tried to choke the deplorable tears back. She wiped her eyes and took a shallow breath, then another, and finally, inhaled deeply and settled her sadness behind the steel façade she usually wore. The one that made her feared and respected. If her club saw her this way, they’d think she was a pussy, and no, that wasn’t a compliment.
“You gonna tell me whose ass needs to get kicked, or am I about to kill the entire male population?”
Amara wheezed a chuckle out, then smiled at her sister as she pulled away and leaned back against the soft cushion, closing her eyes for a second.
“What the devil happened to your clothes, sister?”
Amara cracked open an eye and said, “Bastard cut me off on the road and I laid the bike down. I need to eat, is there any food?”
“You,” Maura said and Amara followed her gaze to one of the prospects. “Can you bring her some food?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the probate answered, and scuttled through a doorway and out of sight.
While the young man went to scrounge up some food, Amara weighed her options. She could lie and just say she came to visit, or she could buck up and tell her sister the truth.
“A year ago I was taken by poachers when I’d been roaming as a leopard. They shot me with a tranquilizer and drugged me. I never saw them coming,” she said, hiding her shame at having been so easily caught.
Maura laid a shaky hand on Amara’s arm, then clasped their fingers together. She cleared her throat. “Go on.”
Amara shook her head. “I only want to tell this story once, so can we go back in the meeting room and do this?”
“It’s bad, isn’t it?”
In reply, Amara simply nodded and rose to her feet, extending her hand toward her sister. Maura placed her hand in her sister’s, and after they both were on their feet, padded lightly back into the club church.
“Sorry about that,” Amara said to no one in particular and slid into her seat, resting her elbows on the table. Her gaze slanted toward Hammer then strayed toward Oliver. Her sister sauntered to her mate and plopped herself in his lap. Hammer rested an arm around her waist and set his hand on the table as he nuzzled Maura’s neck quickly.
“No problem. You were saying?”
“Right. So.” She blew out a breath and stared at a hole in the wood. “A year ago I was taken by poachers while I was hunting. I didn’t hear them coming, and they shot me with a wicked tranquilizer. I woke in a cell.”
Her hands balled into fists, a wave of nausea rolling inside her stomach.
She expected her sister to ask questions, but was surprised when Oliver said through gritted teeth, “Did you kill them?”
It took a few seconds for Amara to gather enough courage to meet the fierceness of his voice before she said, “I killed most of them. However, the leaders escaped while I was busy with the foot soldiers.”
“When do you want to leave?”
His question surprised her and she sputtered, then regained her composure. “That’s why I’m here. Her ex-husband,” Amara thumbed toward Cecelia and continued, “funded the animal capture mission. I think the name of the company was LexCorp Int. From the Intel I’ve been able to gather, they pose as scientists and animal rights activists, then use the money for their sick experiments.”
“What did they do to you?” Flash asked from down the table. Her face was relaxed and her eyes were large, but there was a tick in her cheek.
“I don’t want to get into it, but let’s just say I have a body full of scars and some mental shit to work through, eh?”
Hammer said, “Sounds awful, truly, but what do you need us for?”
A lash of anger whipped through her like a tsunami of water beating rocks into submission. “I need nothing. I’ll handle it on my own.” She shoved her chair back and rose, her body vibrating with an incessant rumble ready to rock and throw punches. Amara leashed the violence, stole a breath, and repeated the mantra that had gotten her though the worst of times. They will pay. They will pay. She repeated it over and over in her mind until she calmed down.
“Can we talk more in a while? My stomach is empty and it’s frying my already overshot nerves. Plus, I’d like to shower and change my clothes.” Amara made a show of looking at her tattered leathers and pulled a few sticks from her jet-black hair. “It’s been a hell of a day, and an even longer night. I haven’t slept since yesterday morning before I boarded the plane.”
Meat opened his mouth, his arms still crossed over his chest as he glared in her direction, but Maura beat him to the punch. “Of course, sweetie. You go take care of you, and we’ll be around when you’re ready.”
Amara thrust her chin to her chest once, turned on her booted heel, and stalked out of the room charged with tension she’d created with her presence.
“Wait, I’ll come with you.”
The rough voice sent shivers down her shoulder blades, a small jolt jostling her pussy. She should have been surprised at Oliver’s near demand, but she shrugged and kept walking, waiting for him to fall in line beside her. The friction of her leathers between her legs almost made her moan. All the stress from the last few days was finally catching up with her, and her standard modus operandi for relieving pent up aggression was either bloodshed or sex. Amara was all too aware of the sexy man next to her. The animal inside her body prowled her mind, hungry for violence and retribution.
“I’ll show you to your room so you can change,” Oliver said in a quiet voice. Like he was coddling her, afraid she’d lash out like a cornered viper.
“Thank you. That would be welcome.”
“Do you always talk so formal?”
Amara tilted her head and stopped walking, facing him dead on. “What the bloody hell does that mean?”
Oliver shook his head and ran a hand through his unruly hair. “Nothing. Forget it, my mouth sometimes has a mind of its own.”
Amara pressed her lips into a thin line and placed her hands on her hips. An awareness crept through her at the heated gaze Oliver cast her as his eyes slowly caressed her body from her toes to the top of her head. He paused on her breasts and licked his lips.
Shifter magic was a strange beast, and sometimes it was futile to try and fight the inevitable. Amara leaned closer to him, pulled by a cord she could feel but couldn't see, and whispered, “Are you with anyone?”
His face jerked upward and his mouth made an O shape. He knew what she was asking. He cleared his throat. “No. I’m single.”
The beast inside clamored for release. She’d become harder since her capture. Less inclined for mercy, and more disposed for pain. Something inside her had died when she’d been lying on that table, her insides torn open as the cruel scientists doped her up and studied her intense healing abilities. They’d been fascinated to the point of mercilessness.
“You okay?” Oliver’s voice broke through the memory and forced her back to the present.
“No,” she said and shifted from foot to foot. She ran a hand through her tangled locks and said, “Show me to the shower.”
Oliver rubbed a hand down her forearm, and everywhere he touched, tingles blossomed and stung. He brought his hand down and laced their fingers together, stroking her palm for a second before settling into a casual hold. He brought their combined hands to his mouth and kissed her skin, inhaling then lowering their hands and tugging her down a long, wide hallway lined with doors, numbers nailed to each one.
He stopped and pre
ssed her against the wall, not touching her, but bracketing his hands on either side of her face. “Do you feel it too?”
Amara had given up games a long time ago. “Yes,” she said, and didn’t blink as she stared into his eyes. They glowed in the low lighting, small sunbursts of color telling her he was interested.
His face moved closer to hers with aching slowness until his mouth hovered just a few scant inches from hers. He smelled of earthen musk, clear running water, and a hint of citrus. If she could bottle it up, she would, and if she weren’t careful, she’d fall head over heels for this sexy tiger and surely regret it.
Of course, she’d probably regret not taking the chance even more. Tired of waiting, she pushed her face forward and licked a tentative trail across his bottom lip, then gently bit down and tugged before releasing him. He growled, and his hips pressed against her abdomen before his chest bumped hers, and two seconds later he was fully pushed against her, his mouth still hovering over hers, their breath mingling, drawing out the anticipation until neither could stand it anymore and they pounced on each other.
Fire danced and shimmied across her shoulder blades, sending a cascade of tingles down to her pussy as his tongue dueled with hers.
He pushed against her body and she pressed hard against his. His hand delved under her shirt, caressing the skin of her abdomen, and slid into the waistband of her leathers.
Someone cleared their throat, then her sister’s voice filtered through the sexy haze. “I’d appreciate if you’d take your tongue out of my sister’s mouth before I do something we’ll all regret, Pretty-Boy.”
A primal sound came from Oliver’s throat as his hands tightened, clutching her shirt in his fists as he kept kissing her.
Amara popped open her eyes and met the fierce golden glare of Maura. She smiled and raised a brow, mock-challenging her older sister. Amara reached behind Oliver and slipped her hands down his jeans and gripped his hard ass cheeks, digging her nails into the soft flesh, making him groan.
Maura’s face tightened and she shifted the tray of food to balance on one hand, then raised the other and slapped Oliver across the back of the head, a loud smack that barreled down the hall.
Oliver didn’t flinch at the contact, but he did very slowly ease his face away from Amara’s. She bit her lip and blinked up at him, inhaling, watching his pupils contract and follow the movement of her tongue.
Amara’s gaze flicked toward Maura, and just as she opened her mouth to berate her sister, her stomach growled, interrupting the irritation that was about to spew from Amara’s lips.
“You need to eat before you engage in any fun activities, noodle.”
“Yes, mother.”
“Don’t you get that tone with me. Remember what happened the last time we fought?”
Amara winced and unconsciously rubbed the spot on her upper thigh where a deep scar was hidden beneath her pants.
She smirked and said, “Do you remember what happened the last time we fought, Maura?”
Self-satisfaction wove through Amara when her sister’s hand touched her own abdomen and her jaw clenched harder.
“Move along, Tiger. You can come back and play later.”
Oliver spun and faced her sister. For just a second, she wanted to wait and see what he’d do, but she thought better of it, knowing how dirty her sister fought when she was riled up. Amara rested a hand on his shoulder, lifted onto her tiptoes so she could whisper in his ear from behind, and said, “Let me eat, and shower. We can continue this later.”
For good measure, Amara licked his ear lobe and suppressed the laugh when he shivered from her touch.
He didn’t say anything to Maura. He turned his face to the side and glanced at Amara out of the corner of his eye, a feral gleam highlighting the hazel depths. “I’ll be back in an hour. Be naked and waiting.”
“What a charming invitation,” Maura said and made a show of putting her hands on her hips. “Didn’t your momma teach you the finer ways to woo a woman?”
“I’ve never had any problems, Maura, but thanks for looking out for my dick. I’ll be sure to tell Patrick you’re so interested.”
“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Keep cock-blocking me and find out.”
Maura huffed and placed the tray in front of her, probably so she wouldn’t do anything stupid, like punch the handsome bastard in his face.
“Don’t talk to her like that, or there won’t be any pussy for you.”
Oliver chuckled and turned to face her dead on. “I like when you say nasty words in that brilliant accent. It’s making my dick hard.” He reached out and grabbed her hand, placing her open palm over his hardness through his jeans. “I can’t wait to hear you screaming my name.”
He let go of her and backed up, then tossed over his shoulder. “Later, blocker.”
Amara watched her sister fight a grin, schooling her features into an angry mask instead. “I’m sure I’ll come up with an acceptable retort after you have your way with my sister and she and I gossip like old ladies. You better treat her right or else.”
Oliver strutted away, back toward the main clubhouse, all sinewy grace with the languid gait of someone unconcerned with the predators at his back.
The move struck her as amusing, and she shook her head as he sashayed down the hall, out of sight.
When he was sufficiently out of ear shot, Amara glared at her sister who’d leaned against the wall, still holding the tray without an ounce of shake. “Did you have to taunt him?”
“Yes.”
“That’s it? Just yes? You haven’t changed a bit.” Amara shook her head and lifted her heel to kick the door open fully. “Come on, then, princess. After you.” She held her hand out with a flourish.
Maura lifted her chin and sauntered into the small club bedroom. It had a private bathroom, full-sized bed, and cream-colored walls. It was nothing special or fancy, but it was quiet, and god, did her body just want to suddenly collapse onto the bed and fall into a deep, restful, rejuvenating sleep.
“I’m going to shower. I’ll eat when I’m clean.” Amara didn’t wait for her sister to reply. She walked by her, shut the door, sat on the toilet seat to unlace her boots, then stripped off her clothes and turned on the hot water. Her body was littered with tiny cuts and red splotches from the crash. She examined herself, then shrugged and let the steam encompass her. More scars didn’t bother her and the small cuts would heal without a blemish.
“Your food is on the table. Call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Maura,” she called out, and ran a hand through her thick black hair, picking small sticks and leaves out before she shampooed. Amara closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the fabricated wall of the shower and let the water cleanse most of her worries away.
3 Chapter Three
Oliver stalked back to the meeting room, adjusted his throbbing erection, then shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the door jamb, watching his brothers laugh and shoot the shit. He was pissed at himself for being out-of-control-teenage-hormone crazed. He clutched his hair, which was getting longer by the second thanks to his surge of testosterone, and threw it back into a ponytail before resuming his position at the table.
Hammer raised a brow. “Everything all right, there, boy? You’re looking rather ragged.”
Oliver clenched his jaw and said, “I’m fine boss. Everything’s just peachy.” He lifted his head and stared across the table, catching the knowing look on Lucky’s face.
Lucky opened his mouth, and at the last minute changed his mind about whatever it was he was going to say, merely chuckled, then shook his head.
“Is my mate with her sister?” Hammer said.
“Yeah,” Oliver said and dangled his head, gathering his composure. It wasn’t like him to get hung up over a female. He couldn't put his finger on why, but in the back of his mind, his tiger prowled incessantly, demanding he go claim the mean lady with the sexy accent and dreamy eyes.
“What do you think, Oliver?”
Thoughts tangled in sheets, Oliver glanced sideways at his President and shrugged.
“That’s what I thought.” Hammer blew out a breath and reached for the cold beer bottle in front of him, taking a long swig of the brew before he said, “Ah. Are ya done mooning, brother? We’ve work to do.”
Down the table, Flash’s high-pitched chuckle grated on his nerves, though she did try and cough it into the crease of her arm to hide her amusement.
“It wasn’t too long ago,” Lucky said from across the scarred wood, “that you gave me shit for being so into a female that I lacked sense.” He raised a brow and smirked. “How’s the crow taste, bro?”
Meat pounded the table with his fist and proclaimed, “He hasn’t even tasted the dish yet and he’s already pie-eyed and pussy-whipped.”
Oliver leaned back in his chair, temper rising from the good-natured ribbing his brothers were dishing out. His heart thumped in his chest, and inside his mouth, the sharp tips of his teeth poked through his gums.
“Fuck this shit, I don’t have to take this,” he said, and shoved his chair back from the table and stood, then began to pace around the room like an angry, caged animal. His primal side clawed to get out and sink its teeth into the soft neck of the prime female currently naked and wet down the hall.
“Sit, Oliver, and calm the fuck down. She’s not going anywhere.”
When Oliver sidled his glance toward his President, he tried to avoid the harsh yellow glare. He lasted about five seconds before the weight of their chosen Alpha forced his knees to bend, but he didn’t drop for he was also an Alpha. Hammer didn’t usually resort to using the bonds of the brotherhood, so Oliver knew he must be nearly out of control.