Breathing His Air

by Debra Kayn

  “Leave it on today. Remove it at night and let it dry. Hear?” He grasped her by the waist, picked her up off the desk, and set her on her feet in front of him.

  Her eyes, the color of bourbon, stared up at him. He growled low in his throat, warning her away. He knew that look.

  A woman who could go from cold to hot in a matter of seconds was trouble. Unpredictable, too sexy for her own good, and whacked enough to be game for anything. Exactly what he didn’t need in his life at the moment, and a quality most men would jump on without thinking. He never jumped.

  “Th-thank you.” She held on to his arm. “It feels better.”

  He grunted and turned away to stand by the door. “Taylor will walk you home.”

  “Where?” The skin between her perfectly arched brows wrinkled.

  “Your home.” He turned away. She was either suffering from shock or had a hearing problem. “Taylor will take you. Keep you safe, so the bikers don’t bother you.”

  “Oh, Taylor.” She relaxed and a smiled transformed her face. “Is she here now?”

  “Yeah.” He frowned. How did she know Taylor?

  “Thank you again.” She patted the front of his chest.

  He stared down at the pink fingernail polish, feminine fingers, and thought he’d better warn her again. “Stay away from the bar, babe.”

  “What?”

  “No place for you. Stay home,” he said.

  “I haven’t done anything wrong. You can’t keep me from coming here.”

  “My bar.” He lowered his gaze to her chest. Under her apron, her breasts heaved. “My rules. My club.”

  “That’s stupid, not to mention bad business. I eat here.” She stuck her nose in the air.

  He cupped himself and adjusted his jeans, grinning when she blinked rapidly and her cheeks flushed. How long had it been since he’d even talked to a woman who retained the ability to blush?

  “I’ll just” — she pointed to the door — “go find Taylor.”

  “You do that.” He leaned against the desk, crossed his ankles, and kept watching her.

  She hesitated, and when he made no move to stop her, she scurried out of the room. He ran his hands through his hair. Trouble.

  Women who dressed the way she did and played games weren’t worth his time. He’d learned that with Crystal. Sure, the coffee lady had a pretty face, a killer bod, but so had Crystal. His ex-girlfriend had thrown him under the wheels of a rival biker club faster than it took her nail polish to dry.

  He had businesses to run and with the Lagsturns’ arrival, he had more business to attend to than normal. The faster she was out of his territory, the safer she’d be.

  His phone rang. He ruffled through the scattered papers lying on his desk and found his cell phone underneath. “Rain.”

  “It’s Torque,” said his right-hand man.

  “What’s up?”

  “The rest of Lagsturns blew through Klamath heading north. They’ll arrive in about a half hour tops.” Torque cussed. “I counted a hundred riders.”

  “Hell.” He closed his eyes for a second.

  “You can say that again. You expecting trouble, boss?”

  “Yeah.” He moved over and gazed out between the blinds on the window. “Nothing I can’t handle. See you tonight.”

  “Have a cold one waiting.” Torque hung up.

  Owning Cactus Cove, Shift’s Garage, and the Cozy Inn and Lounge in town, Rain knew he’d be asking for a fight if he forbid service to the other riders who swung through Pitnam, but he knew from experience the Lagsturns rode for damage. Unlike the smaller groups who caused no problem and were part of the brotherhood, the Lagsturns painted the streets dirty. They had no respect for the road, dealt in drugs, pushed boundaries, and no one’s woman was safe. They took, and damn the consequences of their actions. He had to warn his employees.

  Taylor and Tabitha worked the tables alone until eight when Heather, Ginger, and Janelle came in to work the night shift. Tonight, he’d help Bruce out behind the counter to be on the safe side. Meanwhile, he’d put his men on every one of their women.

  That included the little troublemaker who parked on his territory. Damn Gladys. What the hell was she thinking letting some chick hang out at the bar who didn’t belong here?

  Shutting his office door, he strolled down the hallway and slipped behind the counter of the bar. He eyed the corner table where it seemed everyone in Cactus Cove congregated. Bruce, his fulltime bartender, lifted his chin.

  “Hey.” He flicked his gaze across the room. “What’s going on?”

  “Tori.” Bruce flipped the dishtowel over his shoulder.

  He picked a mug off the shelf and moved over to fill it from the tap. “Who the hell is Tori?”

  “You know, the woman from the Love Shack out front. Coffee girl.” Bruce grinned. “It’s the third time she’s come in, and I don’t know what she does or says, but she creates a scene every time she steps into the place. It’s not only the guys who are paying attention, the babes are hanging around her too. Even my girlfriend talks about her all the time, like she has a damn girl crush on her.”

  Tori? Fuck. Even her name was goofy.

  “I’m covering the bar tonight. Lagsturns are in town.” He tore his gaze away from the crowd and pinned Bruce with a look. “I’m sending Taylor on a break. Cover for her.”

  “Sure, boss,” Bruce said.

  Rain walked across the room, pushed his way into the group standing around the table, and came to a stop at the sight of the woman. A woman who minutes ago he’d had on his desk, legs apart, his mouth blowing on her calf, while he thought he’d like to do much more than blow across her skin.

  He glared. “Hey.”

  She ignored him, and kept talking to Gary Larson, who worked at Shift’s Garage, while periodically licking a purple sucker she held in her hand. He looked back and forth between them. Gary, his whiskered, scarred face bent, a scary figure to most bikers, sat enthralled with whatever she was telling him.

  He grunted. Hell, all the men sat hypnotized watching her. He’d bet anything they were imagining her tongue licking them instead of that damn lollipop.

  Tori patted Gary’s hand as if they’d been friends their whole lives and were just catching up with each other, and smiled around the table. He moved forward. Her little powwow was over.

  “All right. Everybody, clear out.” He leaned over, gripped Tori’s upper arm, and hauled her away from the table. He passed his beer to Tabitha and motioned for Taylor to follow him. “Back door. Now.”

  Tori skipped along beside him, tottering on her heels, and he slowed down, muttering. He should’ve left her alone, or at least hauled her over to someone else to clean up after her run-in out in the parking lot. Now he was responsible for her.

  Taylor stepped up beside Tori at the back door. “What’s going on, boss?”

  “Take her home.” He leaned over and got right in Tori’s face. “Lock your door. Stay put, and do not come back here.”

  Tori snorted. “Are you always such a dumbass?”

  Taylor gasped. Tori tilted her head and challenged Rain with one look. He inhaled deeply and refused to budge.

  Her lips, stained from her sucker, were like a flashing neon light to him. He swallowed past the bubble of laughter threatening to unman him. For someone who weighed no more than a full set of leathers, she had guts.

  “You’ll stay home.” He opened the door. “I don’t want you back.”

  “You’re serious?” She crossed her arms, her breasts lifting. “You can’t do that. I work here … I mean, out there in your lot. I’ve got permits and everything. You can’t make me stay away.”

  “Not any longer. As of tomorrow, you can move on.” He planted his boot in the doorway and pointed. “Taylor, walk he
r home.”

  “But, boss — ”

  “Now.” He never took his eyes off Tori. “That’s an order.”

  Taylor stepped between them. “Come on, girl. I’ll walk you across the lot.”

  Tori’s jaw dropped, and she shoved her sucker in her mouth and clamped her lips shut. She walked with Taylor a few steps before she stopped, whirled around, and strutted in her high heels back to Rain. He almost chuckled. Damn, she was a sight.

  The tip of her shoe tapped into the toe of his boot, she was that close. Then she pulled her lollipop out of her mouth. “I have one last thing to say to you.”

  Her eyes darkened with emotion. He peered down at her. “What?”

  “You’re mean.” She poked her sticky sucker into his chest, looked at it, frowning, and dropped the sucker to the ground. “A waste of a perfectly fine lollipop too.”

  Not believing what he was hearing or seeing, he laughed. Holy hell, she was goofy.

  “I’m serious.” She planted her fists on her hips. “You can’t tell me what to do all the time.”

  He leaned down until his mouth hovered over her lips and looked her right in the eyes. He grinned as she blinked furiously at the closeness. “You don’t tell me what I can and can’t do, babe.”

  She whipped around and stalked off but not before he heard her call him a dumbass again. He rubbed his chest where she’d stabbed him with her candy, and his fingers came away sticky. If the Lagsturns weren’t around, he’d love to show her how to keep that mouth from talking and teach her not to stick a damn piece of candy on his vest.

  He watched her ass swish across the gravel lot. For the first time in a long time, he regretted not being able to spend some time sampling that flame of fire or worrying if she had a hidden agenda. He moved his foot and let the door swing shut.

  Right before the latch clicked into place, he realized where Tori was heading and punched the door, sending it swinging back open. He watched in confusion as Taylor walked her to cabin B. Who the hell had told her she could stay in one of the Bantorus’ personal cabins? The cabin right next to his? No fucking way.

  He was only gone for three weeks. Did everyone forget that he was the boss of the Bantorus club and he set rules for a damn reason?

  Chapter Three

  Tori took the last batch of chocolate chip cookies out of the oven, held them at eye level, and inhaled deeply. Perfect. She’d have at least two dozen to sell tomorrow morning.

  It had taken throwing away two sheets of burnt cookies to regulate the old stove to the right temperature in cabin B. Determined to get her mind off her encounter with the overbearing and too sexy biker, she took her frustrations out on consuming too many unsellable cookies. She’d probably gain five pounds and give Rain something else to nag her about.

  After setting the sheet on the counter to cool, she scooped two cups of cookie dough into a smaller bowl to enjoy when the next mood hit. Living next door to the bar, she figured she’d eat the rest tomorrow when she was bound to run into Rain again. Nothing beat the comforting taste and texture of raw cookie dough, no matter what the food industry said about it being a danger to her health.

  She ripped off a strip of aluminum foil and hesitated.

  The cranky owner of Cactus Cove could use some softening. Everything about him was hard. His attitude, chest, and even his thighs … She groaned. Stop it.

  All evening, she’d dwelled on threatening the owner earlier. It wasn’t in her nature to make an enemy, and he had removed her from Crazy Eyes’ grasp, essentially saving her life. Who knew what that man would’ve done to her if Rain hadn’t shown up?

  Rain. She wondered if it was his real name, or a nickname like a lot of the bikers used. When she’d asked Taylor those same questions, Taylor had only shrugged.

  She slipped off her apron and walked outside with the extra helping. The sun had set hours ago, and she followed the sound of music across the parking lot to the bar. Rain had banned her from Cactus Cove, but he was probably over his huff by now.

  Glancing around, she saw no one else loitering about causing trouble. It was almost closing time. They stopped serving drinks at two in the morning, and people were slowly leaving.

  Earlier, she’d even thought about marching over there and ordering a drink just to piss Rain off. Then she decided baking cookies for tomorrow would be a better plan. It’d give Rain time to cool off before she returned to her normal routine of going wherever she wanted.

  He couldn’t own all of Pitnam, and would realize he had no say in how she lived her life. She walked faster. He definitely lived hard and fast.

  Something about the bad boy appealed to her. He made her whole body tingle and when he growled, she about melted into a puddle in front of his big, black, biker boots. Not that she had any inkling to become involved with him or anyone, biker or not.

  Relationships meant opening herself up, and for this gig, she had a persona of the happy, carefree coffee lady to keep up. Nobody wanted a cursed nobody around, and she had to provide a living, which required her to be personable.

  Before she lost her nerve, she slipped through the back door of the bar. The music blared, and she tiptoed down the hall without worry of someone hearing her. She only had to be careful not to get caught.

  At Rain’s office, she turned the handle. The light was on and she peeked inside, finding the room empty. She blew out her breath and relaxed. Ten seconds later, she was outside again and heading back to the cabin with no one the wiser.

  In the coolness of the night, she hurried across the gravel lot. Pleased with her stealthiness, she grinned all the way to the cabin. Now that she’d cleared her conscience from acting mean earlier, she could go to sleep.

  Fifteen minutes later, she had her cookies prepared in individual baggies for tomorrow, cleaned the kitchen, brushed her teeth and hair, and slipped into an oversized white men’s T-shirt that she’d found left behind in the last place she stayed.

  Instead of pulling out the hide-a-bed, she spread the sheet she’d brought with her from her truck and propped her pillow on the arm of the couch. She laid down, closed her eyes, and exhaled in exhaustion. Listening to the roar of motorcycle engines leaving the bar, she drifted off to sleep with a clear mind.

  A loud knock bolted her upright on the couch. She squinted around the room. Her heart raced, unsure where she was.

  The cabin. Pitnam. She pressed her hand to her chest. It’s okay.

  Another series of banging freaked her out. She jumped off the couch, holding her pillow in front of her.

  “Babe. Open the door.” A deep voice came through her walls.

  She sidestepped across the room, keeping the pillow in front of her for protection. “Cujo, back,” she said, hoping the person on the other side of the door had a fear of big, imaginary dogs.

  “Open up,” the voice said.

  She tilted her head, straining to hear better. “Wh-who is it?”

  “Rain.”

  The muscles in her shoulders eased, and she tossed the pillow back on the couch. She unlatched the chain and turned the flimsy lock on the door handle. Rain pushed his way in and shut the door.

  “What are you doing here?” She moved to turn on a light.

  “Same question.” He held her bowl in his hand. “I don’t know how you convinced Gladys to rent the cabin to you, but it’s not good. Not good.”

  She shook her head. “What?”

  “Tomorrow.” He all but forced the word out. “You move.”

  “I will not. I paid for three months,” she said.

  “I’ll pay for you to stay at Cozy Inn.”

  She blinked. “A hotel? Get real, and quick, dude.”

  “What’s wrong with the hotel?”

  “Um, yeah, you’re paying for it. That’s what’s wrong,” she said.
r />   He shrugged. “Get over it.”

  “You get over it.” She snorted and backed away. “I like the cabin. I can walk to work. If I want to get something out of my truck, it’s right there. You’re on crack if you think I’d let you” — she raised her hands and air quoted — “put me up.”

  He dropped his gaze and his eyes warmed. “You’re not wearing anything under your shirt.”

  She crossed her arms. “Am too.”

  “The hell you are.” He grinned, seeming to find that funny.

  “You barged into my room. I was sleeping, not that it’s any of your business.” She wanted to grab the blanket off the couch and wrap herself from head to toe, but wouldn’t give him another chance to find any more humor in the situation.

  He plopped down on her couch and held the bowl she’d delivered earlier up in front of him. “What’s this?”

  “What’s it look like?” She sat down on the other side of the couch, far away from him, and hugged her pillow to her front. “It’s cookie dough.”

  “Why’d you put it in my office?”

  She looked away from him. “You’re assuming I did. Maybe someone else gave it to you.”

  “Babe … ”

  She shivered. It was becoming a habit. Nobody had ever called her by a nickname before. Besides, he probably called every woman babe. “Fine. I gave it to you.”

  “I know that.” He peeked under the foil. “Oven broke?”

  “No.” She sighed heavily. “I made cookies, and … Never mind, it was a stupid idea.”

  “Say it.”

  “You’ll laugh.”

  He dropped his chin and looked at her. “Say it.”

  “Everyone likes cookie dough. I kept some extra for me to eat, and I thought I’d give you some to make up for poking you with my lollipop earlier.”

  “You called me a dumbass.” He grinned. “Twice.”

  Her stomach fluttered because not only did he smile, but wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes. She raked her teeth over her bottom lip. “Three times. I might’ve mentioned it to Taylor when you couldn’t hear me.”