by Lilly Atlas
After pouring herself a drink, she sank onto Rebel’s tattered couch and rested her head back. If she fell asleep, the sound of Lucky’s bike would wake he before he made it halfway down the street. A nap would do her good. Give her brain time to rest stop obsessing over the past few days’ events.
Of course, her dreams might have a different idea.
“Come on, Robbie, I don’t have all fuckin’ day.” Lucky scratched the back of his neck and scanned his surroundings. They were completely alone in the alley. Not that that was any kind of surprise. The stench from the restaurant dumpster would keep anyone with an IQ above that of a worm away.
Apparently, he was pretty dumb.
Rex shifted and rubbed his track-marked arms. The man couldn’t stay still for more than five seconds in a row. His beady brown eyes were just as hyperactive as the rest of him. And, man, were those eyes sunken. Heroin and whatever other chemicals the guy could shove in his veins or up his nose had kicked his trash for years and it showed in his bony, strung out appearance.
“Spill, Robbie.”
A lock of greasy, mud brown hair fell in front of Robbie’s eyes and he shoved it away before blowing out a breath.
“Look, Lucky, you know I’m loyal to you man, but going around and asking questions behind Rebel’s back? That’s just asking for a shit load of trouble.”
“Aww, Robbie, I didn’t realize you cared so much about my safety.” Lucky had saved the other man’s life a year or so back. It was a case of right place at the right time. He’d come across Robbie getting his ass beat after a drug deal gone wrong. Since then, Robbie had been a great contact to have on the streets.
Robbie snorted. “I don’t. It’s your club, your fuckin’ ass to risk. But who the fuck is gonna look out for me when Rebel or Savage—that motherfucker’s crazy. Anyway, who’s gonna protect me when they find out you’ve been snooping around and asking shit about them?”
“The only way anyone will find out shit is if you run your damn mouth, Robbie. And if you do that, Rebel and Savage will be the least of your problems. Get me?” He loomed over the thin man, using his physical superiority to his advantage.
Robbie held up his hands up near his head. “Hey, man I ain’t gonna say nothin’. And don’t be like that. We’re friends.”
With a frustrated sigh, Lucky dug into his pocket and pulled out two twenties. “We are definitely not friends.” He waved the money under Robbie’s nose. “Now, what do you have for me?” The fact that thirty seconds after Lucky left, that money would be flooding through Robbie’s veins made Lucky feel sick, but he needed the information any way he could get it.
The junkie’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Christ, was this was it was like for his sister at the end? Would she have done anything, sold her soul to anyone for a few bucks’ worth of dope? It was a stupid question because he knew the answer.
It was yes. She would have done any damn thing for a hit. While Lucky’s twenty-two-year-old self was overseas fighting for his country, his seventeen-year-old baby sister, Melissa, had been giving blowjobs in the back of a car in exchange for drugs.
The memories still had the power to make him physically ill.
“Hey, you listening, man?”
Shit.
Lucky shook his head to dislodge the unpleasant thoughts and focused on Robbie. “Yeah. Talk.”
“Word is that Rebel and Savage want to up their game. Right now, they’re small scale suppliers, but they want to be major players. Won’t happen today, they have too much competition, but they’re ruthless enough to get there soon.”
Shit. This was exactly what Lucky was afraid of. His president was too greedy, too money hungry to be satisfied with a few extra dollars in his pocket. Once he realized how much cash he could rake in pushing that shit, it was only a matter of time before he became a ruthless contender in the ever-competitive war to be Vegas’s drug kingpin.
“Okay, he wants more. No surprise there. Any idea what this might mean for my club?”
“It means he’s gonna need help soon. He’s selling good shit. Word is getting out and customers are lining up. Best guess? I give it five months. In five months, he’s gonna be a major player and he’s gonna need more manpower. Where’s the easiest place to get it?”
“Fuck. The club.”
Robbie nodded. “Can I have that money now?”
“Yeah.” Lucky handed over the bills. “Thanks, Robbie.” But the other man wasn’t paying attention anymore. He stared at the money, a hungry gleam in his eye. Apparently, Lucky had been replaced by thoughts of his next fix.
Whatever. His problems had just gotten much bigger than giving a shit if Robbie ignored him. Barely resisting the urge to ram his fist into the brick wall flanking the alley, he turned and walked his bike to the street.
The day had gone to shit real fast after he left the clubhouse. Actually, it took a dive off a high cliff the moment he caught Savage staring at Kori’s tits like he was imagining their taste. Fucking bastard. The club’s VP was the last man Kori need in her life and Lucky would be pissed about the man’s interest in her even if he wasn’t interested himself.
Interested. He snorted. He was far beyond interested, bordering on obsessed.
His afternoon was spent redoing inventory at two club-owned bars because a moron of a prospect fucked it all up and the bar manager called frantic when their delivery was short. It was a giant ass pain, but he was eventually able to sort it out and get a rush order that would be delivered in an hour or so. The task took three times as long as it should have because thoughts of Kori sitting across the table from Savage while he salivated over her attacked Lucky’s brain every ten seconds.
And now Robbie had pretty much guaranteed the rest of his day would be shit as well. He hit the throttle and peeled out on the street. At least worry about his club over the past half hour had taken the place of obsessing over Kori.
The No Prisoners didn’t push drugs. It was in the bylaws and made them different from many other MCs. It’s what had drawn Lucky. After what happened to Melissa, he couldn’t stomach the thought of joining an MC that dealt drugs. And most did. The No Prisoners had a number of reasons for staying out of that business, but the two biggest were it was the easiest way to keep the cops off their backs, and the easiest way to keep members from spiraling out of control.
Would the club go for it? If Rebel came to them and said they could be rolling in it selling drugs, would it pass a vote?
It was a tough question to answer.
At one point Lucky would have said hell no, but that was before. Now, with their president and VP pulling in legitimate dough, there just may be a good number of members loyal to them who were willing to follow.
Lucky had been loyal to them. A month ago, he would have said he’d die for any one of his club brothers. Now, he was finding out there was a limit to loyalty, and he was gearing up to turn on them.
Five months. In that time, he needed to make a decision he could live with and act on it.
This knowledge he had, this secret knowledge of what Rebel and Savage were doing was slowly eating away at him. He was completely alone in this and that’s not how he preferred to operate. The club was a family, and they acted as one. A close knit one. They made decisions together, they worked together, succeeded together, failed together.
Or so he’d thought.
Finding out two of those members, the two that should be the most willing to put the club’s needs above their own, were fucking around behind everyone’s back was like a knife in the fucking chest.
The MC had taken the place of his marine corps brothers when he left the service and filled an important role in his life. It made him queasy to think of betraying them. And even sicker to think Rebel and Savage’s greed put him in this position.
And now there was Kori to think about. Innocent Kori who walked into a buzzing hornet’s nest, completely unaware, with the mission of getting close to Rebel. He couldn’t allow her to be caugh
t in any crossfire and needed to factor her into any decisions he made. Number one priority had to be, and was, keeping her safe.
Rebel’s small house came into view. She was outside, leaning against the door frame, a glass in her hand when he coasted up to the house. Gone were the jeans she’d worn earlier, replaced by cutoff shorts that showed off her long, smooth, toned legs. The legs that had held him against her as he pumped into her for all he was worth.
Pounds of built up tension and stress drained away in anticipation of spending time with her. Blood rushed to his cock so fast, it left him lightheaded. He needed to tear his eyes off her if he didn’t want to lay down the bike and make a fool of himself.
Then he remembered Savage’s ravenous expression back at the clubhouse and he was tense all over again. And spoiling for a good fight. Ramming his fist into Savage’s face a few times would go a long way towards easing his demons.
But that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Looked like he was going to have to fuck the stress out.
After he got some damn answers.
Chapter Fourteen
Kori stayed in place as Lucky trudged up the driveway. Everything about him screamed pissed off. In fact, it seemed his anger had grown in the few hours since she’d left him. This couldn’t all be from what happened at the clubhouse earlier, could it? The reaction seemed overblown, out of proportion to the situation, especially considering he didn’t know what the hell happened with Savage.
Actually, he looked pretty close to losing it, and as he drew near, the torture in his expression became apparent. Something else had happened. Something that had him very upset.
He hopped up on the stoop and advanced on her until he was just an inch away. With one hand on the house and one on the door, he caged her in and stared down at her. His nearness made her breasts swell and had blood zinging through her veins. If she’d had lustful thoughts about him before, now that she knew what the man could deliver, the thoughts were rampant and erotic.
Kori took a small sip from a fresh glass of scotch then held it out to him. With one gulp, he knocked it back. Her gaze was drawn to the strong lines of his throat as he swallowed. The urge to lick him there, right next to his bobbing Adam’s apple, was great, but she wasn’t sure where they stood at the moment.
“Rebel home?”
She shook her head. “He’s hardly ever here. I guess he sleeps at the clubhouse most nights.”
“You enjoy your lunch?”
Did she? Good question. Not really. It would have been much more enjoyable if it didn’t feel like a setup. And if Savage looked at his food instead of her breasts. She shrugged. “It was fine.”
“Fine, huh? Did you eat, or did you just sit back and stick out your tits so Savage could look his fill?” His voice was dark, angry, and…jealous?
Not that jealousy was an excuse for acting like a Neanderthal. She pushed against his muscular chest, trying to get some space. Nothing happened. It was like he didn’t even notice. “Back off, Lucky.”
“Not until you tell me what the fuck was going on when I got to the clubhouse earlier. Why was Savage looking at you like you were his and why was Rebel looking at me like I was dog shit he stepped in? Was that no biker rule a crock of shit? You really looking to work your way through the club one brother at a time? Cuz I’m not sure how Daddy’s gonna feel about his girl being a club whore.”
The lust-filled blood that had been singing in her veins turned to ice. How dare he? No man spoke to her like that and got away with it. This was why she avoided bikers like she avoided an STD.
“What the hell is it to you? You had your one night. Time to walk away.” Her face was so hot, it nearly made her dizzy.
A low growl erupted from Lucky’s chest and he leaned in until they were at eye level. “I asked you a question.”
Again, she got the impression that his anger wasn’t solely due to Savage’s behavior, but something more. “So the fuck what? I don’t owe you any damn answers. You know, for someone who claims to be in it for an easy one or two nights, you’re sure acting like a possessive ape right now.” She shoved his chest again. “Back the fuck off.”
When he didn’t move yet again, her anger grew to boiling. Her hands landed on his chest once more and this time she was going to get him to move. But the moment she touched him, he seemed to deflate.
His chin dropped to his chest and the air whooshed out of his lungs. “Shit. You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m being a complete asshole.”
Her eyes widened. How often did a man admit he was wrong? Let alone apologize? Not frequently in her experience. “Why?” Her voice was barely above a whisper.
With his focus still on the ground, he shook his head, then lifted his gaze to hers. “Savage doesn’t have a great reputation with women. He’s, well, he’s not known for being gentle. I saw him looking at you like he wanted to do all the things that I want to do to you. It sent me through the roof.”
The things he wanted to do to her? Not the things that he’d already done to her? Did that mean he wanted more? “This isn’t a conversation for outside.”
With a nod and a severe expression, he said, “Go on in.”
She reached back and opened the door without looking, then threaded her fingers through his. Something was wrong and if she could provide even a small amount of comfort, then she would.
He looked at their joined hands like he was surprised by the gesture, then he gave her a squeeze and followed her into the house. She led him to the couch.
The second his ass hit the couch he reached for her and drew her up and across his lap. They were face to face, with her straddling him. His hands rested on her ass.
“What happened today, Lucky?” she asked. “You look like something is really wrong.”
He shook his head and picked up a long lock of her hair, rubbing it between his fingers. “Just club shit.”
“Are you okay?”
“Fine, angel. Nothing for you to worry about.”
Typical biker answer. Also a lie. “Why do you keep calling me angel? I’m definitely not an angel.”
With a sheepish grin, he held her hair up in front of her face.
“My hair? I don’t get it?”
“It’s so white it almost glows. It um…” He cleared his throat and she swore a red tinge colored his cheeks. “It reminded me of an angel. Especially last night when it was spread out around your head on my pillow.”
Wow. What was she supposed to say to that?
“Is Rebel pissed at me over something?” he asked, knocking the sweet feeling right out of her.
The sigh she meant to conceal snuck out as she shook her head. Maybe some physical contact would help him keep his cool while she told him. She placed both hands on his chest, under the open panels of the cut. “Look, Savage came on to me at the clubhouse and I turned him down flat. Then he got a little vulgar. It made me a bit uncomfortable but wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. That’s when you walked in. Rebel seems to have it in his mind that Savage and I would be good together which probably accounts for the dirty looks. Most of my lunch was spent listening to how wonderful Savage is and what amazing stuff he does for the club.”
A low growl came from deep in Lucky’s gut. “Stay the fuck away from Savage, babe. Rebel is blind where he’s concerned, but he can be a real asshole.”
She frowned. “I have no interest in him. In fact, he makes me pretty uncomfortable. But you sound kinda hostile towards him, and not thrilled with Rebel. Is something going on with you guys?”
“Just club shit, babe. Not something I can talk about, and like I said, not something to worry about. You just concentrate on getting to know your old man and figuring out if you want to stick around. My vote is yes.”
Her heart soared. “You want me to stay?”
His hands on her ass clenched and ground her against his erection. “What do you think?” he asked as he kissed her.
The man was an excellent kisser. He could teach classes
on kissing. Hell, he could teach a few other classes as well. But before she lost control and jumped him, she had to know. “So, not to be that girl, but you don’t do relationships and I don’t date bikers, so…”
“So, this is pretty fucked then, huh?” They both chuckled and he nipped her bottom lip. “I have no fucking idea, Kori. This is uncharted territory for me, but I’ll tell you what I do know. I like you. Spending time with you last night, even before the mind-blowing sex, was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I’ve got some shit going on right now. Stuff I can’t, and I’m not ready to talk about, but for the first time ever, spending time with a woman made me feel better, stronger…just fuckin’ good. And that’s before we even talk about that mouth, and these tits.” His hands left her ass and cupped her breasts, thumbs rubbing over her tight nipples. “All I know is that I want more. More of this,” he said pinching her nipples through the thin shirt and bra.
Goddamn, it felt so good. Her body softened, readying for him, and she couldn’t resist the need to press against his erection.
He let out a low hiss. “And more of what’s in here.” One long finger tapped against the side of her head. “I want to give us a try, a chance to be something. Whatever that something ends up being.”
Everything besides Lucky faded into the background as she took in his heartfelt words. Words she was one hundred percent certain he’d never said to a woman before. They weren’t a line. Hell, he didn’t need lines. Women fell at his feet when he walked in a room. But warning bells chimed in her head. He was a biker.
Bikers were violent. Bikers partied too hard. Bikers cheated.
What her brain screamed didn’t seem to matter to her heart or her body. She wanted Lucky. Wanted to get to know him as much as he seemed to want to get to know her.
Oh, Jesus. She was going to do it.
“I don’t share,” she whispered.
A loud snort broke the silence of the room. “You think I do? No, angel, this will be you and me only. God help any man who tries to come between that.”