Cutter's Hope

by A. J. Downey

  Didn’t have a clue what was going to happen or where shit was gonna lead, the only thing I knew for sure is I needed to protect my club. But I was the kind of guy that liked his beer and drank it too, so I would see what I could do about having the best of both worlds. I stared at the ceiling for a long time, wide awake, my mind turning over the possibilities and roving down every avenue. Last thing I thought of before I finally crashed was, whether I should wait on Hope to come to me like some kind of feral cat, or if I should go to her. Maybe I should leave it up to fate? The town was small enough, I’d be bound to see her again at some point.

  Yeah. I’d give it a day or two and see what turned up. That’s what I’d do.

  Chapter 7

  Hope

  I lay in the hammock on the beach between two palm trees, soaking up the sun. It’d been two days since the disaster on Cutter’s boat and I’d had zero luck with the rest of the town on locating any information on Tonya. I’d canvased the entire damn place. Even went so far as to go door to door. Nothing. Zip. Zero. Nada. No one had either seen her, or would admit to seeing her. All roads to Tonya Anon led straight to The Kraken MC’s door.

  I needed a time out. To relax, sure, but mostly to think. How the fuck was I going to get those happy bastards to cooperate? So here I was, taking my time out, lazing in the sun and working on my tan. They had about six of these Hammocks all in a row between palm trees just sitting on the beach for anyone to use and so I took advantage. The warmth of the sun soaking into my skin made me drowsy, and I didn’t pay much mind to the first touch on the instep of my right foot. Another came, just above it on my ankle, then another on my shin. I opened my eyes and tensed, staring wide eyed from behind my big, bug eyed, sunglass lenses.

  Cutter knelt beside my hammock and placed another gentle butterfly kiss up higher on my shin from the last. I watched him curiously for a minute. He smiled, no, grinned and it was one of those secret little boy smiles that immediately made me wet. Fuck. So not fair, the kind of effect he had on me. He pressed a kiss to my knee, all the while his gaze locked with mine and even though I ached to have him keep going, I mean shit, it felt really damn good, I had to open my mouth and break the spell.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded and arched one brow, putting on my resting bitch face.

  “Seducing you, is it working?” he asked.

  I laughed, then stated dryly, “Not really,” when what I really meant to say was, incredibly well, please continue. Guess Cutter had some ESP going for him, because he pressed another kiss to my knee, then above my knee and I think I stopped breathing because the playfulness was bleeding out of his eyes and the heat index in them was rising, turning them molten.

  “What ‘cha thinking, Sweetheart?” he asked and his voice was low and as sultry as the air around us.

  I opened my mouth to speak but was cut off by a nearby shout, “Cutter! You comin’ man!?”

  I tipped my face in the direction of the shout slightly but something flashed in Cutter’s gaze and I couldn’t tear mine away from his if I wanted to. My heart rate had picked up some time ago and thrummed in my chest and the side of my neck. I was turned on, I was riding that fine edge of adrenaline and it felt pretty good, I’m not even going to lie.

  “Come with us,” Cutter said and the grin was back.

  “Where?” I asked, realizing quickly that the only way to what I sought was through the MC and the best way to them was through the man kneeling in the soft sand by my hip.

  “Bowling,” he said with that dazzling smile of his.

  “Bowling?” I asked incredulous. Somehow I did not picture a bunch of badass bikers bowling. I thought about it and nope, never not once ever crossed my mind.

  “Bowling,” he stood in one fluid movement and it clicked, why I thought he was so fucking hot. Cutter moved with purpose in everything that he did. He was a trained Marine. Cutter was dangerous but his affable personality let you forget that. I gave him a calculating look.

  “Have to change unless bikini bowling is in these days, in which case, I don’t care I’m still changing.”

  “Seriously, dude? What’s the hold up?” A woman trudged across the sand towards us, shorts and a silver bikini top, she was spectacularly tattooed across her chest and down one arm. The other arm appearing to be a work in progress, her leg also a work in progress, the flowers and butterflies climbing to her knee.

  “Hossler, meet Hope. We’re waiting on her to grab a change of clothes and she’s coming with us,” Cutter said.

  “Really?” Hoss said dryly and looked me over as if she were assessing a new threat to her territory that she hadn’t realized existed until just right then.

  “Really,” I said standing up and gathering my towel and beach tote.

  Hossler rolled her pretty blue eyes, “Whatever, just hurry the fuck up already!” she said and turned to walk back towards the boulevard and the line of bikes there.

  “Peace offering, Sweetheart,” Cutter said, drawing my attention from the curious woman.

  “What?” I asked and he held up my heels.

  “Not sure what it was I said to offend, but I apologize.” The charm was back and I smirked.

  “Dial it down a notch, Casanova. It wasn’t you, it was me,” I said and took the proffered heels.

  Cutter put both hands over his heart and looked pained before saying, “Damn, not even on the second date and I’m getting the ‘it’s me’ speech? That’s got to be some kind of record!” I laughed softly and smiled. I bit my lower lip and nodded slowly.

  “Place I’m staying at is two blocks up, where you want to meet me?” I asked.

  “Meet you right out front, Darlin’,” he winked at me and I rolled my eyes and shook my head and moved in that direction. Quick rinse, change of clothes and let my hair down and I would be ready to go inside ten minutes. I began walking in that direction.

  “Mm mm mm,” I heard from beside me and I glanced over, “Mighty fine ass you got there, Baby.”

  I raised an eyebrow at the older biker and I gave him a slight once over, “Nothing to see here, so I’m moving on,” I stated dryly and I knew it came out unfriendly. I meant it to. He was the same guy that’d reluctantly let me into The Plank my second day here, the day I’d met Cutter. He spit on the ground.

  “You’d never have it so good,” he said and grabbed his crotch.

  “Tiny! That’s enough man, Hope here is our guest and we don’t treat our guests like that. You picking up what I’m putting down?” Cutter called from up the sidewalk.

  “Yes, Captain!” Tiny grated. I gave Tiny my most winning smile.

  “Nice to meet you too, Tiny,” I said and made my way up to my B&B, an odd mixture of pleased and put out that Cutter had come to my defense. I mean shit, I could take care of myself! I didn’t need anyone looking out for me, but I had to admit, it was nice all the same. Maybe I was just getting tired. My mood was decidedly dejected at having reached yet another dead end in Faith’s case, but I had to admit to a certain amount of lift going on here. Cutter wasn’t pissed, he was providing me an in and I was going to take it. If I had to sleep with him to get him to tell me, then I’d do it. If I did and he still wouldn’t well, then I would beat his ass… or try to.

  I cleaned up and slipped on a white summer dress with black accents along the top. Really, the straps were black along with the top along where my breasts would be if I had more of them. A thin black bow made of satin ribbon as thin as the spaghetti straps holding the dress up completed the look. I shrugged my feet into my white flip flops and hung my white concealed weapons purse off my shoulder. I whipped through a refresher on my makeup, threw on some clear lip gloss, smiled at myself in the mirror and let down my hair. Whipping a quick brush through it, it fell around my face and shoulders in beach waves. Fitting.

  I swiped my bangs across my forehead and tucked them behind my ear before throwing on my sunglasses and locking up. I tossed my keys in the top of my bag and went out front. Stopping
short at the smiling Kraken President on the back of a glossy orange and white Indian. He smiled broadly at me.

  “You got health insurance with you?” he asked. I frowned.

  “What?”

  “Health insurance,” he repeated.

  “Yeah, why?” I asked.

  “Florida helmet laws, Sweetheart, you gotta be at least 21 years of age and have at least ten thousand dollars in health insurance coverage to operate or ride on a bike without a helmet.”

  “No shit?” I asked. That sounded totally stupid but at the same time, kind of awesome.

  “No shit.”

  I shrugged and got on behind him without missing a beat and he started her up. It was definitely a different sound than my baby gave off.

  “Done this before, huh?” he called out over the growl of the engine.

  “A time or two,” I said, unwilling to admit that I wasn’t used to being a passenger.

  “Well hang on, Sweetheart,” he said grinning and I wrapped my arms around him and he put us in motion.

  There was seriously something different about riding with no helmet. The wind in my hair, the feeling akin to falling knowing there was no safety net… it was exhilarating. He was showing off a little but that was fine. I would too if I had a machine like his. I made sure to stay snug up against him, partially because he felt good and partially because short skirts traveling into the wind with no panties was a recipe for disaster. I hugged my arm in close to my body, crushing my purse to me, the hard outline of the gun digging in reassuringly.

  We got on the highway and the air whipped past, rushing along my skin, filling me up and blowing out the back, taking all the stress and frustration and hopelessness with it. Cutter was warm, and solid and though I couldn’t see his eyes from the wraparound sunglasses he was sporting, I could see his face in the side view mirror and the little smile that tinged his lips. I couldn’t help but feel the little caress of one of my own on my lips which immediately took me back to the sensation of his mouth on mine. Of his trim beard burning my cheek, his strong jaw beneath my fingertips.

  If I were less of a badass I would have swooned again, instead I leaned forward and called out, “Well your chances of getting in my pants are improving!”

  Cutter laughed, “Is that so?” he yelled back over his shoulder.

  “It could happen,” I yelled over the cacophony of wind and traffic. Cutter’s smile turned into a grin and he took the next exit. We’d been travelling maybe fifteen or twenty minutes by now.

  We didn’t have to go far off the highway to reach the bowling alley. Like so many of them this place looked as dilapidated as they got and there were several bikes and a Jeep or two parked out front. A man in one of the Kraken leather vests took a cigarette out of his mouth and exhaled. He was blond, like light blond, almost white and his hair stood stiff but at the same time soft looking off his scalp in an almost-fro. Like dandelion fluff.

  “Captain’s here!” he shouted into the dark, cave like atmosphere of the bowling alley behind him. Cheers and applause drifted out of the darkened door way. Cutter put down the kickstand to his bike and shut it off. I climbed off carefully and managed to preserve my modesty… you know… if I had any.

  Inside was dark and hot, like it didn’t have any air conditioning hot. I blinked and realized what light there was came from those camp lanterns, their hiss loud in the dark, the white hot light glowing from them like captive stars.

  “Are we trespassing?” I asked with a laugh.

  “We do what we want, Princess,” the blonde woman from earlier called out. I glanced at Cutter and realized by his guarded look, that this was some kind of a test.

  “It’s hot as fuck in here, anybody have a cold beer?” I asked, raising a brow. I was rewarded by a secret smile from Cutter and a cheer or two from some of the guys and a couple of girls.

  A cold bottle was thrust into my hand and a younger guy wearing a vest that had no emblem on the back, the bottom rocker reading ‘prospect’ went jogging down the lane to set up empty bottles for pins. He stayed down the lane and off to the side and Cutter came up behind me, his breath almost cooler on my shoulder than the ambient air, which was saying something.

  “Ladies first,” he murmured and pressed his lips against the back of my shoulder, just to the side of my dress strap. I shivered and it had nothing to do with the temperature in the room, which really was just this side of Hades’ balls.

  I threw my hair up off my neck into a messy bun using the hair elastic I kept at the ready around my wrist. I set my purse to the side on a dusty chair and took the proffered bowling ball someone had found, from the man offering it. He wasn’t bad to look at either. Tall and slender but not without his own strength, he was blond too, shoulder length and sported a goatee, his blue eyes cynical. The name tag on his vest said ‘Marlin’ and below that Vice President. Interesting.

  I handed Marlin my beer, vowed not to drink from it again after I took it back, and tried to keep a watch on him out of the corner of my eye as I lined up. I took my slight running start and let the ball go, it rolled through the grit on the lane and demolished all but two of the bottles. Cheers went up. The prospect cursed and went after the ball and rolled it back to me down the gutter.

  Music was started out of an old boom box and we bowled. Cutter sucked at it, and in a total role reversal, I found myself pressed to his back showing him how to do it right. The touches lingered, the glances held weight and we did this careful dance around each other that was equal parts flirtation and trying to get to the bottom of one versus the other. We flirted hard and I learned names and listened to stories.

  “Hey, Hope! Where you going?” Radar called. We’d been here a couple of hours and I’d had more than one beer. Marlin had started drinking my original without thinking about it so I’d gotten another for myself.

  “If they haven’t shut off the water yet, then the bathrooms might still work!” I called back, and purse over my shoulder I went looking for it. As luck would have it, the water hadn’t been shut off and there were still paper towels! Score.

  As I came out of the bathroom, he caught me slightly off guard, but not enough to warrant me fighting back. His energy wasn’t malicious, I don’t know how I can explain it but when someone comes at you with mal-intent; it feels different than what this was. As I came out of the bathroom, Cutter was just suddenly there, pressing his body the length of mine, driving me back into the wall. I gasped and his mouth was on mine and my fingers wound into his hair which was falling out of its ponytail.

  God damn it! This man could kiss. He devoured me from the mouth down, my blood thrummed with alcohol and lust, no I wasn’t impaired, just pleasantly buzzed. His hands slid over my body through the thin dress and I pushed my hands under his shirt. He groaned into my mouth and I sighed with contentment. He broke the kiss first and leaned back with that debonair grin plastered to his face.

  “Been wanting to do that for a couple of days,” he said.

  “Why’d you stop?” I asked coquettishly and his grin broadened.

  “If I’m going to take you, it sure as hell ain’t going to be in some grungy defunct bowling alley,” he stated and his tone held a finality to it that made me think a little more of him.

  “Kiss me again,” I demanded.

  Cutter raised his eyebrows, “You like it when I kiss you, Sweetheart?”

  “No, not at all, now shut up and do it again.”

  I pulled his mouth back down to mine, tugging on his leather vest to do it. Cutter smiled against my lips and flicked his tongue against my bottom one. I opened for him and he kissed me, his mouth warm, his taste overlaid by the crisp hoppy flavor of the beer we’d been drinking. He sank his teeth gently into my lower lip and I groaned. Things much lower in my body began to throb with need and I marveled once more at the attraction.

  I had never had such a visceral reaction to a man and it was interesting to me. It was also extremely frustrating knowing that he was deliberately
withholding the information I needed to find the last woman to see my sister. I pushed back, breathless, and realized that his palm rested warm on the outside of one of my thighs up under my skirt which caused me to shudder. God I was horny but my hormones needed to take a back seat. I stiffened in his hold and he smiled down at me, almost a little sadly.

  “Shh, easy girl. Nothin’ ain’t gonna happen that you don’t wanna have happen,” he murmured and the tone and delivery he used just turned me on that much more.

  Cutter put my leg down which had been raised up over one of his hips, the scorching length of his erection pressing against me through the denim of his soft, broken in jeans, left my mound feeling almost bruised with the force with which he’d been pressed against me. It was a delicious feeling, I’m not going to lie. For a girl that could most definitely handle her own, it was a rare thing for me to find a man who could man handle me, but I suspected Cutter was up to the job. I liked that. I liked that a lot.

  “That’s the problem, I want it to happen but it can’t,” I murmured and met his eyes with steely resolve.

  Cutter had both palms pressed flat to the wall to either side of my head, my body bracketed in, trapped. Any other female and it probably would have been intimidating as hell but I wasn’t just any female. I was me, with some of the finest hand to hand combat training the world over locked in my brain, muscles and joints. So no, I wasn’t intimidated or afraid but a big part of that was the way that Cutter looked at me. He searched my face carefully, as if doing so could and would, divine every last little secret my heart held.

  “You’ve been knocked down, dragged out, put through the wringer and don’t trust no one as a result,” he said finally and sighed, his tone liberally dosed with regret.