by KB Winters
The longer I told her about the guys, Higgs and Pony Boy, too, the easier it was to talk.
“Higgs was my best friend. Our driver. The guy could find his way around any city on the globe, and if he couldn’t, there was always a person willing to help. Not that Higgs took advantage, but Pony Boy sure did.”
Her laugher was music to my wounded soul and I longed to hear more of it over dinner.
“Sounds like my friend Jessie, who’s more like my sister. We met in foster care, and we’ve been friends ever since, but she’s a total man magnet. No matter where we went, there was always some hot guy who wanted to open the door for us, show us how to get someplace or buy us a drink. Jessie though? She was oblivious. Thought people were just good and kind in the world because she was.”
Hazel shook her head wistfully and I could tell that Jessie, whoever she was, was her family.
“Foster care, huh? Was it as awful as people say?”
Why the fuck did I ask that? Of course it was terrible, and she probably didn’t want to talk about it.
“It was worse, actually. But Jessie made it better. Somehow, together, we were able to make it until we aged out and left to our own devices.”
She smiled at the memory, but I saw the strain around her eyes as she thought about her friend. “She fell in love with a cowboy and they live in Oklahoma with their three little munchkins.”
I raised my glass and she did the same. “To the ones who made it out and lived to tell the tale.”
“Cheers to those brave, crazy, lucky souls.”
She smiled and knocked her drink back, leaving me no other choice but to watch as the cool amber liquid slid down her throat, and she smacked her lips together in sweet satisfaction.
“Damn, there’s just something about whiskey and red meat that go together like bikers and Harleys.”
She quirked a knowing brow at me before she burst out laughing.
“You didn’t think it was a secret, did you?”
“Not a secret, no. Not exactly.” I don’t know what the hell I thought about the whole biker thing. It was a natural next step for me, having a family similar to the one I lost, but I still couldn’t feel it yet.
“You don’t want to talk about it.”
It wasn’t a question, and she didn’t sound upset about it. Not yet, anyway.
“It’s not that, but what do I say about it?”
Hazel shrugged. “What’s it like? Being a biker?”
“Don’t know. This is my first time.”
I didn’t feel like a constant bad ass or some kind of enforcer, just a guy who happened to be in a motorcycle club.
She laughed again. “You all seem like cool guys, so I guess I’m curious what you do. Are you rich guys who just ride bikes once in a while in matching outfits? Or do you smash heads and protect people from other, worse bad guys?”
Her questions, ridiculous as they were, pulled more laughter from me and after a while the sound was no longer rusty. No longer unfamiliar.
“Do you have a thing for bikers, Hazel?”
“No. I mean other than on TV, I don’t know any bikers so I guess I’m just curious about your way of life.”
Fair enough. “I guess you could say we protect people, at least we’re trying to.”
I didn’t know how much to tell her because this was club business and she wasn’t a Reckless Bastard. Then again, I wondered how much Gunnar told Peaches about what we did. She’s not your woman, a voice inside of me insisted.
Hazel nodded and got lost in thought for a long moment, making me wonder what was going on in her pretty little head.
“You lead a very interesting life, Saint.”
“I wouldn’t say that, but it does have its moments.”
Like this particular moment right now, it was one I knew I couldn’t forget even if I tried. Which I wouldn’t. Not ever.
“I’ve had a nice long moment with this steak, so thank you for that.”
She flashed a brilliant million-watt smile that was so damn contagious that when the waitress stopped by with our check, she found me and Hazel staring at each other like two silly teenagers.
“Dessert for you love birds?”
“No thanks,” Hazel insisted. “Apparently he wants to lose a game of pool to me before the night is over.”
The waitress smiled and shrugged it off before she walked away with a bounce in her step.
“Do I?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know Saint, do you?”
***
“This place feels like it should have peanut shells on the floor!”
I should have reconsidered volunteering to be the first one to do recon on the guys in town, but with Hazel’s tits and her curves pressed against me, I was happy to be the guinea pig.
“Maybe we’re too early for the peanut shells,” I whispered in her ear, happy to keep her as close as she was now. “Drink?”
“Trying to get me drunk, boss man?”
“No, smart ass, it’s what people do in bars. At least they did when I used to frequent these establishments.”
It had been a long time since I’d sat in a bar and shot the shit, even longer since I’d done it with a pretty woman on my arm.
“I think I’ll just have a whiskey on the rocks. This place looks like they frown on fancy orders like a Manhattan or an Old Fashioned.”
She turned to me with a smile and stepped in closer just as a group of guys entered.
I couldn’t say what it was about the guys that put me on alert, only that it did. Two of them were blond-haired cowboys and the third, with the dark hair, looked like he’d done a few years behind bars. They certainly had my attention.
“We can risk it if you want. I’ll protect you.”
I pulled her in close and Hazel let me, smiling as her hands landed on my chest, roaming all around before they came to a stop at my waistband.
“I’ll have a whiskey on the rocks, Saint. That way I can protect you if you need it.” That damn cheeky smile on her face just about ripped my heart from my chest. “But I will accept your challenge on the game of pool.”
“I don’t recall issuing the challenge, but I won’t turn down a chance to see you bent over the table, showing off that ass.”
And since the other three guys had taken up the table in the corner, it gave me a perfect opportunity to observe them. They were troublemakers, I could see that clearly, based on the loud way they laughed and talked, being intentionally disruptive. They were handsy with the waitresses and any other solitary women unlucky enough to end up in their orbit.
“Men,” she scoffed. “So damn easy.”
She walked away and I grabbed our drinks, following behind at a safe enough distance to watch and to protect. “How’s this table?”
It was perfect. One table separated us from the threesome, just enough to listen carefully without getting involved.
“Perfect,” I told her and snapped a few photos over my shoulder to send to the guys if my instincts turned out to be correct. “You want to break first?”
“Hell, no.” She threw her head back and laughed, drawing the attention of the younger blond in the threesome. “I’ll rely on your masculine strength to break ’em apart, and then I’ll wipe the floor with you.”
Her confidence was amusing and endearing, so much so, I was half tempted to let her win, but it was unnecessary because she won the first game on her own.
“I guess now it’s time for me to get serious.”
She laughed, holding the pool cue and unconsciously stroking it. Teasing me. Tempting me beyond all reason. “Guess so.”
“Hey baby, what’s your name?” The young kid with the curly blond hair had finally found his courage in the bottom of beer number three and was taking his shot.
“The name is Hazel, not baby.” Her guarded look told him she was not amused, like she was used to dealing with drunken assholes like him.
“Hazel, huh? I like it. So Hazel, why don’t you drop t
his old man and get with a young buck who can keep you up all night?”
Hazel looked at him, assessed everything about him from his height to the size of his muscles, before she reacted. “I’m a one woman man and totally in love with him. Sorry, kiddo.”
His nostrils flared the second time she called him kid, and she took a step back. Good girl. “All women think that until they’ve had a real man.” He grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close to him before she had a chance to react.
Hazel pushed at his chest and pulled a classic move, smacking him and dragging her nails down the side of his face.
“Get off me, asshole!” He grabbed his face and stumbled back.
“You rotten bitch!”
He lunged for Hazel, but I was already there, right between them, completely unnoticed by this asshole the entire time. I stood between this guy and Hazel, waiting—no daring—that asshole to give me a reason to pound him into the fucking ground.
“Watch how you talk to her or your face won’t be the only thing fucked up around here, dickhead.”
His bodyguards stood behind him, arms crossed and doing a very good impression of two guys who might kick my ass, unless I didn’t notice that they stood behind that asshole. I bent down and grabbed the punk by the t-shirt.
“Touch my lady again, and I’ll beat the smile off your fucking face. Got it?”
He sneered first, not quite sure if he should be afraid of me or not. Like I told the guys, I wasn’t immediately intimidating, and I knew assholes like this would take the fucking bait. Hook, line and sinker.
“Fuck you and that dirty bitch of yours.”
“You made your choice,” I told him and pulled my arm back, letting my fist snap against his nose. “Asshole!”
Blood rushed from his nose and his friends were more concerned about their own faces than helping him.
Hazel tugged me away, and I took several deep breaths before I stopped her or dared look at her. Some women got a kick out of men fighting over them, but I didn’t think Hazel was that kind of chick. I also didn’t know if the violence would piss her off.
“Come on slugger, let me buy you a drink.”
“Slugger?”
She shrugged and smiled at me over her shoulder. “It’s not exactly new, but it fits the bill. Beer or something stronger?”
I frowned. “You’re not upset?”
She shook her head and leaned across the bar to place our orders before she slid down and pressed close to me.
“No. I mean I hate fighting, but damn, that got me kind of hot.”
“Yeah? Tell me more.”
Her eyes shone with mischief, and I knew I was in trouble when she leaned in and let her lips brushed my earlobe. “Watching you go caveman on that idiot was so fucking hot, I can’t wait to show you—”
That was all I needed to hear before I was off my stool and tugging Hazel behind me, not stopping until I had her outside and her back pressed against the passenger side of my car and me pressed to her front. “Tease.”
“Get in the car and find out,” she panted, brows arched in a challenge.
I couldn’t wait to find out, but the road back to Hardtail was dark and on a moonless night like tonight, dangerous as fuck. The air was silent and tense with desire between us. My hands gripped the steering wheel to avoid reaching out to touch Hazel’s creamy legs.
“Hazel,” I breathed out a warning when her hand gripped my thigh.
“Yeah?”
“Driving here.”
A soft giggle escaped even as her hand continued stroking and massaging my thigh, her pinky brushing against my balls with every move.
“Not preventing you from driving. Just…exploring.” Her hands explored my thigh from my knee all the way up to my cock and back down again. Then she flipped the button on my jeans, and the zipper came next.
“Hazel.”
“Shhh,” she urged and leaned forward to swipe her tongue across the head of my dick. “I’ve been thinking about getting my mouth on you all night and I won’t stop until you do. Unless you’re worried we’ll crash.”
With her warning issued, Hazel’s mouth wrapped around my cock and made it impossible to focus on the road with my eyes rolling back in my head and my body seizing with pleasure.
“Oh shit, woman!” She took me deep and licked my balls, teasing me when she knew I couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
“Fuck, Hazel!” I felt her smile around my cock but she never stopped, licking and sucking me like I was her favorite late night snack and I couldn’t even thrust a little.
“Hazel,” I warned as my balls tightened and my spine began to tingle.
She took me deep one final time and that was it. I lost my shit as the car came to a stop too damn close to the wall on the side of the bunkhouse. My whole body jerked as I emptied my balls down her throat, and Hazel swallowed every fucking drop.
My legs were shaky as I stepped from the car, but after a blowjob like that, a man had only one fucking thing on his mind. Fucking. A good hard punishing fuck for the beautiful, magnificent woman who’d given it to him.
“What are you—?”
I cut off Hazel’s words when I yanked her from the car and tossed her over my shoulder. I locked us up in the bunkhouse and laid her on the first empty bed I found. And that was where I kept her, feasting on her body until the sun came up.
Chapter Twenty
Hazel
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d woken up with a smile on my face. It was a novelty for sure, and I let myself revel in it for a moment. Okay, a long moment. The muscles in my thighs ached, ab muscles I didn’t realize I had pinched with every little intake of breath, and I relished it all as erotic flashes of the night before came to me. I reached out beside me for the man who’d given me so much pleasure, but he wasn’t there.
Saint was gone. No, not just gone, the bed was cold which meant he’d been gone for a long time. Probably not long after I fell asleep if history was any indication.
Not that I blamed him. The beds on this side of the bunkhouse were tiny as fuck, twin size beds. When I drifted off to sleep half of me was on top of his hard, lean body. Even though I understood why he left, when I sat s up and scanned the empty room and saw no trace of him, not a stray sock or forgotten boxer shorts, I felt empty and disappointed. Discarded.
Which was stupid. Saint didn’t owe me anything but the pleasure he’d spent the night lavishing on me, and that was plenty. More than plenty, in fact. It wasn’t like he was my boyfriend or anything.
Although he did call me his lady to those punks at the bar. Probably just to protect me.
At least that was what I told myself as I slid from the bed, ignoring the evidence of our sexual gymnastics as I made my way to the bathroom for a long hot shower. It wasn’t long enough to make me forget last night or hot enough to completely rinse away his scent. But, it was long enough to remind me why sleeping with my boss was a bad fucking idea, no matter how good the sex made me feel.
Dressed in jeans and a plain black tank top, I stepped into my favorite black sneakers, packed my bags and drove into Opey. The town was a nice, idealized television version of a small town. Instead of paved or cobbled streets and sidewalks, it had beautifully painted and stained wooden slats. All of the little businesses had cute little awnings with kitschy names and funky logos that never failed to put a smile on my face. The few businesses boarded up thanks to the recent rash of robberies cast the only dark spots on the town.
This crime spree didn’t make any sense to me. Opey had its bad apples like every place does. Farm boys who liked to fight after a few too many beers and left the wrong girls brokenhearted, but not homegrown criminals. They didn’t beat up old ladies and they sure as hell didn’t start fires. I had an uneasy feeling these crimes were the beginning of something bigger.
The police had taken the tape down from the front of Edna Mae’s place even though she had to remain in the hospital for a few more days. At leas
t, that’s what I’d heard from the grapevine. The lack of police tape gave me hope that I could get inside my apartment, so I walked around the building, strolling really, just in case someone had their eyes on me. I kept my fingers crossed.
The tape was scattered on the ground in shreds that didn’t look too official, but I went inside anyway. It was my apartment, and I had to pay rent on it whether I lived inside or not. I preferred to live inside, especially when my only other option was sharing living quarters with a man I wanted more than I wanted normal.
I couldn’t stop thinking about the whole situation with Saint, not when I went back downstairs to grab my bags from the car, and not as I began the time-consuming task of cleaning my apartment. The robbers, whoever they were, had left my place a mess. The police hadn’t doubled their efforts trying to collect any evidence they could. Fingerprint dust covered nearly every surface of my living room and bedroom, and black fingerprints covered most of my kitchen.
A fucking mess.
I pulled out my yellow cleaning bucket and all the supplies I’d gotten from a dollar store in town and got to work. I never found comfort or solace in cleaning. I knew Jessie did, though. It had always been a necessary evil in my life, required by foster families first and then later it was a good way to keep from overstaying my welcome on somebody else’s couch. But now, I cleaned to get rid of the intruders. I cleaned because my mind wouldn’t stop thinking and worrying and analyzing. “More like overanalyzing.” And it was all Saint’s fault.
What the hell was I doing with him anyway? The last thing I needed was someone as fucked in the head as me, maybe more fucked. And he was my boss. Still, I wanted him. There was something about Saint that called out to me. Made me want to reach out and take his hand instead of letting him run away. Which was a stupid fucking thought to have about a vet who clearly had PTSD but was now mixed up with a motorcycle gang—and the manager of a full blown sex club.
Knowing all that, I still wanted him with an intensity I couldn’t describe or understand. All I knew was that I wanted him and I shouldn’t. Couldn’t.
There was one person I could call who would understand and offer advice. With a smile, I dialed her number.