by Brair Lake
‘I’m twenty-four - A little old to be revolting against the parents don’t you think?’
Mace smiled, lowering his head to allow his lips to brush over hers. She wanted the kiss to last. To deepen. While Mace had other ideas, and it was over before it began. ‘I’m twenty-eight. Maybe it’s time I changed my diet.’
Avery’s amazed at how tactile she’s becoming as she reaches up to stroke his cheek. Her finger trailing over the scar. The smoothness of the puckered flesh surprises her. It’s almost like touching silk. Her thumb came to rest at the corner of his mouth. His tongue flickered over the tip.
The darkening of his gaze has her dropping her hand, stepping back. The look in them reminds her of the hidden undercurrents in the ocean. Is she strong enough to survive this swim? ‘How did you come by the scar?’
Mace ruefully shook his head. His finger following the path hers had taken earlier. ‘In a fight.’
‘Do you still get into fights?’
‘I’m not as hot-headed as I used to be.’
Avery let go of the laughter she’s holding back.
‘I doubt that’s true.’ Turning to look at one of her own photographs, she didn’t wait for his answer. ‘Why did you come tonight?’
She couldn’t look at him. Her hand is swinging in his, and Avery berates her heart for misbehaving at his touch. Wondering which of them had made the move. His touch warmed her in its comforting touch. Her confidence boosted by his presence. ‘Because I was invited – Why did you invite me?’
‘I wanted your professional opinion.’
‘I’m not a photographer.’
‘No – but you are an artist – So tell me – What do you think?’
Mace’s gaze returned to the photograph. His gaze skimming over the dark young girl and three boys. Their hands cupping bowls as they drank from them. Their flimsy knees, and legs dirty as they crouched on the floor.
‘They’re good – but they could have been better.’
‘Better!’
‘You’re young Avery. Your talent is raw. It just needs working with. You need to show more emotion in them. You need to grow. You need to experience deep pain.’
Avery’s heart dropped. Everyone else who saw them, gushed over them, falling over themselves to tell her how good they are. How much they liked them. She’d asked for his opinion and she had received it. ‘Thanks for being honest.’
Mace stilled beside her. His gaze flickering over her shoulder before returning his gaze to her. ‘Walk me to my bike.’
‘You’re leaving.’ She winced at the gaucheness of the words as they left her mouth. Of course he was leaving. Just because she wanted him to stay all night, didn’t mean he felt the same way. ‘Only tonight.’
As they reached the Harley, Avery watched as he put his helmet on. She didn’t want him to go, and she didn’t want to return to the gallery without him. What would everyone say if she disappeared. Avery giggled. They’d probably put it down to artistic temperament.
‘Come and kiss me Avery.’ Jerked out of her daydream. Her gaze dropped to his mouth. Would he kiss her properly, or would it be one of those fleeting chase kisses?
Mace’s lips brushed hers. His mouth soft as he tasted her. His lips sucking hers as he bit against her lower lip. Avery groaned, leaning further into the biker. Her hands wrapping around his back, pushing under his cut, while his tongue made small forays into her mouth. His fingers gripping into her hair as he arched her back. His other hand slid forward to cup her breast.
Avery whimpered, she didn’t want the kiss to end. Her disappointment strong when he broke away. His fingers cupping her chin. ‘Come for a spin.’
‘Now.’
Mace chuckled as his other hand ran over her bare thigh. ‘Not in that dress – I wouldn’t want anything to happen to either your flesh or your body.’
‘When?’ Was she being too eager Avery mused. What if she said no, and he never asked her again? ‘Tomorrow.’
Avery thought her head would fall off as she nodded vigorously while giving him her address. His frown had her smiling. She stayed where she was as she watched Mace disappear. The red taillights of his bike dimming left her shivering. A cough behind her, brought her attention back to the art gallery.
‘Dad.’
‘You embarrassed me tonight, Avery.’
‘You embarrassed me when you married a woman nearly half your age, but I kept quiet.’
‘Shanae isn’t a biker with a reputation.’
‘She isn’t lily white either.’
‘Keep away from him, Avery. It’s an election year, and I can do without the scandal.’
Chapter 3
Mace tucked the white face mask under his chin. His gaze skimming over the outline of the fifties pin-up queen, Bettie Page, on Mississippi’s restored bike. A smile flashed across his face. The poor bastard has been as grumpy as hell since coming off his bike in the last street race.
‘He’ll like it.’ He didn’t turn to look at the woman standing beside him. He had sensed her presence long before she spoke. As he continued to stare at his work, his hand itched to reach out and soothe the paintwork. An action he dismissed knowing, that if he touched it, he’d ruin it, and would have to start again. ‘Yeah’
‘Who’s your fantasy woman, Mace?’ He dropped the paint splattered rag. His eyes closing as an image of Avery Lyons visualized before him. He guesses she’s about five-seven. The last time he saw her. She had been wearing a short scarlet dress that hugged her ass, and hips. The cut of the dress, had drawn his gaze to her tits. Not that they were on show. With its round neck collar, the only flesh on display, were her arms. Her legs had been encased in black holdups. He curled his fingers as the image of lace flashed before him. The black stiletto sandals with the bling foot bar had drawn his attention to her painted toes.
His smile deepened. When she had graced him a look with her wide eyed gaze, their color changing from navy to violet, he had wanted to reach over and kiss her. Dropping the ruby red paint can in the trash, Mace shook his head. Carrie wouldn’t want to hear about his new found obsession with the judge’s daughter. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Rita Hayworth maybe.’
‘Who’s she?’ Mace collected the pressure gun, rinsing the nozzle. His gaze lifted to look at Carrie. She’s taller than Avery, and where Avery’s hair is brown and tinged with red. Carrie is one hundred percent redhead. She’s also been warming his bed recently, and didn’t appear to be getting the message he’s no-longer interested. Mace scowled. Lately he’s lost interest in the club’s women, and he wondered when this had begun. He enjoyed sex, just that now he appears to be losing the taste for it. ‘An actress.’
‘Was she any good.’
‘Yeah. – Come on, I’ll walk over to the clubhouse with you.’
Mace found Mississippi sitting in a comfy chair, his broken leg elevated on an old wooden stool. Tucked against the side of the chair are his crutches. Handing him one of the beers he had collected from the fridge behind the bar, Mace sat beside him. His gaze sweeping over the club. In the background some heavy rock CD is playing. A couple of the club’s bikers were playing pool. There was no sign of Coats or Dill, the club’s Road Manager and Secretary. Sinbad leaned against one of the far walls. At ten years older than Mace, he’s still in good shape. Since the death of his wife, he has become restless. Partying every night. Mace frowned. His children are suffering. Jonas is turning into a wild child. Scarlet, his daughter, named after the club, is living with her grandmother. Mace rubbed his forehead as it began to throb. The club is falling apart. ‘How’s the leg?’
‘How’s the bike?’
‘A beaut. Fudge and his men did a good job with the repairs.’
‘And the paintwork.’
‘What can I say – You have a master artist working on it – And for cheap.’
‘Cheap – Shit Mace, it’s costing me a fortune.’
Mace carried on watching Sinbad. They were losing their town. Avery had it wrong las
t night when she said they owned Downy Lakes. They had done once. Now it’s slipping from their grasp. Clipper and the Hybrids are moving in, taking over, and Mace has had enough. ‘I’m calling church.’
‘Are you calling for a coup?’
‘If I was – would you back me?’ Mississippi’s treacle gaze swung to Sinbad. Before Anna-Leigh’s death, he would have done anything for The Scarlet Runners. He had been a good president. Just like Mississippi, he loved his club. The death of his wife affected him deeply, and over the last couple of years, he has begun to drift away from his men and his club. They had the name of the man who killed Spanish Pete. Meanwhile, they haven’t done anything with it. ‘There are those who are still loyal to Sinbad.’
‘When are Coats and Dill due back.’
‘You know it’ll be a couple of weeks before this fucker comes off.’ Mace slapped Mississippi on the back as he rose. His loud laugh, bringing him to the attention of several members of the club. ‘Scared we’ll save the club and town without you.’
‘You and which pussy army.’
‘When you see them – Tell Dill and Coats I’m looking for them.’
‘You’ve got a fucking cell – Use it.’ Mace flipped Mississippi the bird, whose deep chuckle followed him as he sauntered over to Sinbad. ‘I visited Juana this morning’
Sinbad’s gaze flickered over Mace. His head pounds, and he’s had another fight with Jonas. He’s losing his son, and he didn’t know what to do. ‘And.’
‘She’s found another supplier. – That’s the fourth customer we’ve lost in as many weeks.’
Sinbad’s frown grew as he rubbed his head. They were losing money quicker than the men were spending it. ‘What do you want to do?’
‘Call church. Ride over to The Hybrids.’ Sinbad finished his beer, licking his lips. His gaze never leaving Mace. He knew Clipper need dealing with. Fuck, that’s something he has to do. Not the club. ‘How bad are things Mace.’
‘We can save the club. Claim the town back.’
‘Call church – then let’s get this party on the road.’
Mace’s scowl didn’t abate as he watched Sinbad saunter over to the bar. He loved the Scarlet Runners, and he loved Sinbad. Sinbad had been the one to pull him off the streets when he was a teenager on the run. He’d never known a stable home until meeting Sinbad. His frown turned to a smile. Shit, Anna-Leigh’s death had affected them all. It was time to stop mourning her. Now was time to deliver justice.
‘You haven’t smiled like that in a long time.’ Mace hoped his smile hid his annoyance. ‘Carrie.’
Carrie trailed her fingers over his arm. Her long purple painted fingernails sent a shiver through him as he stepped away. The long inviting look she gave him, did nothing for his libido. ‘I thought we might find a room.’
‘Not now – I’m heading out soon.’
Carrie’s eyelids lowered, as her lips pursed. ‘Need company.’
‘No – It’s business.’
Mace wondered why he had lied instead of telling her, he was taking another woman with him. ‘Maybe when you get back.’
Mace took a long speculative look at the woman. She’s attractive, and she knows all the moves to make in bed. However, she isn’t who he wanted. His cock twitched as he thought of Avery. His smile deepening. His concerns over his impotence fading. So maybe he wanted something which hasn’t been around the block a few times. ‘Find yourself someone else.’
Carrie pouted as she stepped closer. Her fingers once more trailing over his chest. ‘You don’t mean that.’
‘It was fun Carrie – Don’t spoil it by becoming clingy.’
Mace spun on his heels before Carrie answered, leaving her by the door as he returned to Mississippi.
‘Why did you hook up with that one.’
Mace followed Mississippi’s gaze. His lips twisting as he sniggered. ‘Because she’s a good lay.’
Mississippi chuckled as he rubbed his stomach, belching loudly. Mace rolled his eyes. ‘You need to start exercising before you get fat.’
‘You need to get laid before you forget how to. Go find one of the women and show Carrie she doesn’t mean anything to you before she gets it in her head. She’s your old lady.’
Mace smiled, checking his wallet, pulled out a foiled package and waved it under Mississippi’s pierced nose. ‘They’re still in date.’
Mississippi made a play for the packages waving them above his shaved scalp. His head thrown back as he chuckled louder. ‘Only just Brother. If you’re not going to use them. I will.’
Mace reached over to grab the condoms, stuffing them back in his wallet. He was hesitant to say anything about his date with Avery and wondered why. His brown eyes somber when he looked into his friend’s laughing one. ‘I’ll be using them.’
‘On who.’ With a snap of the leather, he pushed the wallet into the inside pocket of his cut. His cell is there. With a swift pat down of his pockets, he found the keys to his Harley. ‘Avery Lyons.’
Mississippi’s laughter boomed as he wiped his eyes. His gaze glancing over the six foot three biker. ‘Judge Lyon’s daughter?’
‘Yep.’
‘Shit Mace – Why didn’t you say something sooner. I need to run a book on this.’ Mace scowled at his brother. Confused as to why the crack about running a book, didn’t rest well with him. ‘They’ll be no book to run.’
All laughter fell from Mississippi as he leaned forward in his chair. ‘Stay with your own kind Mace. Avery Lyons isn’t for the likes of us.’
He’s the one to chuckles this time. His gaze skimming over the club before returning to Mississippi.
‘Tell everyone – Church. Ten tomorrow morning, and no-ones to miss it.’
Chapter 4
Mace studied Avery as she skimmed rocks over the lake. Mississippi’s right. She isn’t the kind of girl he should be getting mixed up with. Especially now, after years of hanging around, they were going to take down The Hybrids. He isn’t expecting a clean fight. He’s fully aware that the Hybrids will play dirty and will not accept The Scarlet Runners taking back Downy Lakes without a fight.
Mace shook his head. His attraction to this particular woman confused him. He’d shocked himself when he asked Avery to come for a ride. He broke off a piece of long grass. His fingers bending the flimsy stem. A smile flickered at the corner of his mouth. Although he vaguely remembered Avery as a child, mainly because when it was an election year. The judge dragged her to every rally and meeting to show her off. It wasn’t until she returned to Downy Lakes six months ago, he noticed her as a woman. Over the months the allure of her, pulled at him stronger.
His smile grew as he studied her derriere hugged tightly in the pale blue jeans she wore. As though sensing his gaze, she turned and smiled at him. He felt the familiar tug in the pit of his stomach. If he was honest with himself, he would have to admit this attraction between them, frightens him. Although he has the club, he is a loner.
He has nothing to offer Avery. No home, no family. Just a life as a biker’s bitch. Mace’s scowl deepened. He isn’t looking for permanency, so why was he thinking this way. Abruptly he dropped the blade of grass, and rose from the ground, brushing the dried grass from his jeans. ‘Who taught you to skim?’
Avery laughed. Her dark blue eyes shining as she looked the biker over. Mace felt the familiar tug again. The stirring in his cock as the blood raced through his veins. He glanced around. The area is secluded, with little chance of them being interrupted, and he wondered what Avery would say, if he pulled her into his arms and slid her to the ground. To sink into her and lose himself.
‘My Grandpa.’ He wasn’t interested in her answer, and he gave into temptation. His fingers gliding over the smooth naked flesh of her arm. Fleetingly, he wondered if the rest of her felt as soft. As good. The tips of his fingers burnt from her touch. Avery’s body shuddered against his. His smile deepened in awareness that she is just as affected. ‘You’re pretty good.’
Her
perfectly arched eyebrow rose. ‘For a girl you mean.’
Mace chuckled, lowering himself onto the balls of his feet, bouncing his body as he skimmed a rock, watching it bounce, once, twice, three times. Then it sank. Avery skimmed a rock. Together they watched as it bounced five times before it sank. It wasn’t long before the pebble game became a fierce battle between them. ‘Concede defeat – I’m better.’
‘No way woman. My reputation is at stake.’
Avery plopped to the ground. Her legs stretched out in front of her as she leaned on her elbows. The sun warming her. Her gaze sought and found Mace. His breathing stopped. He’s known plenty of women over the years. Yet this is the first one he has seen, who abandoned herself to life. ‘What are you thinking?’
Mace watched the pink lips move as he dropped down beside her. His fingers itched to stroke her hair, and without thinking, he released the brown tendrils from their loose bun, his fingers stroking the softness as he lowered his head. ‘That I want to kiss you.’
Avery rolled away from his touch. Her hands brushing down her jeans as she leapt to her feet. ‘Can I photograph you?
‘What?’
Mace lay spread on the ground. His gaze thoughtful on the woman. He was sure she was with him. That she was about to let him taste her lips. Instead, he now finds himself staring up at her. His arms empty. His hunger growing. With a groan, he dropped his head to the ground, shading his eyes from the bright light.
‘I’ve brought my camera – Can I photograph you.’ With a heavy sigh, he dropped his arm. His gaze falling to the rucksack he had noticed earlier. He hadn’t given it much thought what was in it until now. ‘You want to photograph this ugly mug.’
Avery giggled, and his cock twitched. His eyes dropping down to his jeans, and he wondered if Avery was aware of how aroused he is. Then his gaze skimmed over the green dye tie vest she wore, and he frowned. If Avery was aroused, the signs are well hidden.