by Zoey Parker
I wanted her.
More than that, I wanted to get her out of there. Not to mention myself.
My eyes locked onto hers and I didn’t want to look away, but I had to. I looked down the street, in both directions. Someone was going to come by soon enough.
I reached down to her. “Come on.”
“What?” Her voice was high, shaky. She looked like I just asked her to eat a bug.
“Come on!” I was louder this time. She had to get the idea I was serious. We needed to leave, immediately.
She was still cringing away from me like I would burn to touch. Part of me wanted to leave her there if she was going to be that way about it. Screw her. Let her find her out way out of this hell hole. I wouldn’t be there for her the next time she got into trouble.
“I just want to go home!”
I just bet she did. I kinda wanted her to go home, too. She was already more trouble than she was worth.
I looked around again, half expecting to see a motorcycle speeding toward us. We had to get the hell out—odds were slim this asshole was by himself. “Right now, you need to get out of here and go anywhere else. You have to come with me. Now. Before they find you.”
“Who?”
“I’ll tell you, just come now.” I was starting to get seriously pissed. I wouldn’t ask her again. A few more seconds, I’d be on my bike. I didn’t owe this girl anything. Especially when she looked at me like she thought I was less than nothing.
It was fascinating, watching her face as she changed her mind. She wasn’t stupid. I saw her take something from the ground out of the corner of my eye, then she was up and running behind me.
“This?” she asked, pulling up short when we reached my bike. I rolled my eyes, climbing on and starting the engine.
“It’s this or your ass. So get your ass on it.” She got on behind me, clumsy like she’d never ridden before. I wasn’t surprised. She was a princess.
“Around my waist,” I barked, shoving her arms down from where she’d grabbed me around the chest. “Not too tight. Try not to kill me.” Then we took off. I heard her squealing behind me, where she pressed herself against my back. I didn’t hate the feeling.
Who the hell was she? What had I gotten myself into when I picked her up off the ground? And why did that asshole want to hurt her? I hoped it was something as simple as him wanting to rob or rape her—not that rape was simple, but it would mean she was a stranger.
Otherwise, she was fucked, because the Vicious Wolves didn’t back down once they got their teeth into someone.
I wasn’t sure where to go. If they were following us, the clubhouse would be the safest place. It would also be the worst. I didn’t want a war tonight.
My eyes went between the road in front of me and my mirrors. I needed to know if there was any chance of being followed. I couldn’t lead anyone to the rest of my club. They knew where our headquarters was located, but leading them there after I beat the shit out one of their guys would be a bad move.
After five or six blocks, I could see there was no one, and I dropped the speed a bit. The last thing I needed was to get pulled over with blood on my knuckles.
“Where are we going?” She sounded panicked. I didn’t blame her, but she could have at least sounded a little grateful. I didn’t have to help her. I didn’t answer. She’d find out soon.
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A Taste of Heather West
Leather and Liquor
MY WORLD IS ONE OF SEX AND SIN.
ONCE YOU'RE IN, YOU CAN NEVER LEAVE.
She was an innocent little thing. She should have known better.
But I wasn't going to be the one to tell her to stay away.
I did the opposite, in fact.
I took her into my world and made her my own.
It wasn't pretty. It wasn't nice.
But I've never been either of those things.
I'm a cold-hearted S.O.B., and I'm never going to change.
She thought this was all a game.
But I'm made of two things, darling: leather and liquor.
And I'll be that way 'til the day I die.
Whether she likes it or not.
She's playing with fire. And she's about to get hurt.
Chapter 1
Bentley
“So you’re the new boss, eh?” There’s a big, angry looking guy wearing a black bandana and spikes on his shoes right in front of me. He’s looking at me like he’s going to bash my face in at any moment, but I’m not worried. In my world, big doesn’t always mean nastier.
“Yep.” I sit back in my chair and kick my feet up on the stool across from me.
“What’d you do to Jacob to get him to step down? Suck his cock? Let him fuck you up the ass?”
Jacob was the old leader of the Road Devils. He’d been in charge for over a decade, but apparently, no one had noticed how old he was getting except for me. Some of these old fellows didn’t know how to accept change. That meant I was going to have to make them.
“I don’t really like to brag.”
The angry biker smirks, but there’s something dangerous in his gaze. I sit forward in my chair, but don’t move my feet. If I back off in any fashion, he’s won. I can’t let that happen. I watch him as he gets to his feet, and my eyes shift to his hands. They’re curling up into big, meaty fists. There’s no way I can go toe-to-toe with this man, but that’s what brains are for.
“Actually…” I sit back and fold my arms across my belly. My eyes never leave him. “I lied. There is one thing I would like to gloat about, and it concerns you.” When the man’s eyebrows go up, I keep going. “If you attempt to harm me in any way, you’ll end up just like Jacob, only worse. I’ll let you live so you can slog out your days regretting the decision that cost you everything.” I tilt my head and eye him sideways. “What’s your name, anyway? Do you even have one?”
He’s taking in deep, huffing breaths like he’s going to explode on me at any moment. I’m waiting for it, and I know I’ve only got one chance to gain the upper hand if he comes at me. If I’m too slow, it’ll be over before it begins; the man is a goddamn giant. His face is red and his veins are sticking out like they’re about to erupt from the pressure.
“I’d listen if I were you.” I don’t need to look toward Jordan’s face to know that he’s right next to me in my blind spot. Jordan Mines is my childhood friend; we’ve been through every level of hell together.
“And why’s that?” the man in front of us growls.
Jordan steps toward him. I speak then, and a smirk tightens my lips. “Because if you look inside the room behind me there are ten men and two women who would absolutely love to come out here and wipe the floor with you. Now if that’s what you want, be my guest. Otherwise you can fall in line… or leave.”
There comes a great huff from the big man before he turns on his heels and storms heavily from the bar. The door slams behind him and makes the walls rattle. A few old pictures of the bar in its youth fall to the floor with alternating thumps.
“Hm.” I lean back in my chair and tilt my head toward the ceiling. “I really need to make some changes to the Road Devils. More… of something. There is a piece missing.” Rubbing my hand along the light stubble on my jaw, I think deeply. “Women.” I feel that tell-tale ‘lightbulb’ moment as it surfaces in my mind. “We need more women.”
“Women?” Jordan blinks in confusion. “Why do we need more women?”
“Because of that thing that just left. Women can offer a lot of things men can’t, like common sense and –“
“Sex? You just want them for the sex, don’t you?”
“Hey, even I’m not that shallow. Maybe my father was, but not me. Look around? If we want sex, we don’t have to look far. My mother was one of the toughest pe
ople I can remember knowing and I want to honor that. I need to.”
Jordan has a seat across from me where the angry biker had been only moments earlier. He’s got this concerned look on his face that I don’t like; it usually means he’s about to ask me something personal. “When are you going to tell me what happened to your mom? It’s been years, man.Years.”
“Maybe in a few more years.” I mumble the response because I don’t really believe it. I’ve never told anyone about what happened to my mom, and I sure as hell won’t be starting now. No one will understand, not even Jordan.
He snorts and gently kicks at one of my boots on the stool. “You’re such a loser sometimes. But I’m telling you, one day I’ll know why. One day I’ll figure out why you hold women in such high regard. To me they’re just fun bags running around waiting to be screwed by the likes of me.” He holds up his hands. “Except the two you have in your gang. I learned that the hard way when Harper nearly ripped my eye out with a broken bottle. And Soria just stood there with this smile, like she was going to join her if I didn’t stay down. But women like them… they’re hard to find. Real hard.”
I groan inwardly. “And you wonder why I don’t tell you anything important. ‘Fun bags’? Really?” A snort makes my nostrils flare, and I laugh. “Yeah, I remember that night; I wasn’t gonna stop them if they decided to finish you off, either. But that’s what you get for calling Harper a pink ho with fake breasts. Those are all real, and so is the rest of her. Soria, too. And I can promise you that there is absolutely no way that either of them are going to fuck you. You’re beneath them.” With a chuckle, I lift a shot of sweet alcohol to my lips and take it down.
“Ouch, man. Ouch. When did you get to be such an asshole?” He laughs, though, as if it’s all one big joke.
I’m debating on whether I should respond to him or not when the bells above the door chime. My feet drop from the stool, and I sit up to look. Three women, all of them in their early 20s, enter the bar. Two of them have dark brown hair down to their hips. They’re wearing tight skirts and nearly see-through blouses, and their bras are pushing their breasts up so that they look ready to spill over the hems. I can hardly see their faces because they’re so covered in makeup, and I can smell their perfume from here.
The third woman is different. She’s shorter by at least a few inches, and I notice that her heels aren’t as high. Tight pants hug her legs instead of a skirt, and I must admit they’re some of the best legs I have ever seen. A wine-colored blouse is done up to her collarbone, and her make up is subtle. It adds an element of mystery that I like. Her hair is blonde, and she seems almost rebellious. It’s all in the way she holds herself, like she’s looking for trouble.
“Hello? Earth to Bentley. Are you home? Do I need to give you mouth-to-mouth or CPR?”
That ‘mouth-to-mouth’ comment tears my attention away from the blonde beauty. I stare at Jordan. “What?”
“See, even you think women are just for fun. I saw the way you were looking at those incoming ladies, especially the one with the blonde hair. That means I get to call shots on the brunettes.”
“Go for it.” I look back to the women and watch them walk to the bar. They’re only a few stools down from us. Because there’s a lot happening tonight, I can’t make out what they’re saying.
“Only if you snag the blonde. I wanna see you hook up first because really… how long has it been since you’ve had areal ride? Eh?” Jordan gives me a lecherous smile and juts his chin toward the women who are now seated. He’s tapping his fingers on the bar with what I can only conclude is impatience; I really want to take him up on his challenge.
“Fine. You’re on. But we need rules.”
He sits up, and that smile turns into a grin. “Rules are meant to be busted, but whatever. I hope they’re not too hoity toity.”
I smirk at him. “One: the woman with the pants and blonde hair is mine. The brunettes are yours. Two: Sabotage is frowned upon, but not illegal. Three: If you don’t score withboth brunettes, I get a crack at them. The same goes if I miss out on the blonde one. Four: No fighting. Yelling and name calling are fine, but I don’t want anything violent happening here; we have a reputation to hold up. Five: If we both strike out, we’ll share a long, lonely night drinking shots and reminiscing about the ‘old days’ when everything was easier.”
Jordan is quiet for some time. I have a feeling he’s pondering my rules. “All right.” He nods and holds his right hand out to me. “You have yourself a deal, Mr. Scott.”
With a smile, I reach out and take his hand. I give it a firm, solid shake. “Excellent. Now go ahead. Let’s see what you can do, Mr. Mines. I’m betting you’ll be back here with a pout on your face within a minute or so.”
“Hah. Hah. Hah. Just for that,you go first. Otherwise neither of us are going home with anyone tonight. Besides, I’m the one who saw them first. That means I get to say who goes first.”
I laugh and slam one of my hands down on the bar. “You always were an asshole. But you’re on.” With a shift of my hips, I drop my feet down from the stool and stand up. I stretch and run fingers back through my hair. The short tufts somehow comfort me as my nerves flutter in anticipation. I’m used to being put on the spot, but with a woman this hot, I know I need to give this everything I’ve got.
“All right,” I whisper. “Here we go.”
Chapter 2
Hannah
“Are you serious? They bought a houseright next to your dorm?” My best friend, Clarissa Rocker, is standing next to me in the lineup.
We’ve escaped the confines of college life and are taking cover at a local biker bar called Road Devils. I’ve always been the ‘good girl’, at least in the eyes of my parents, but I’m so sick of them. They have never not been in my life, and college was my way of escape.
“I’m totally serious, Ris. So now I have to spend another four or more years of my life with them looking over my shoulder. They’re officially moving in next month.” The line starts moving, and I walk forward.
“That sucks. How on earth do you manage? If my parents were like yours, I’d have fled the continent by now!” She shakes her dark hair, and the little silver pearls entwined in it shimmer.
My shoulders slump, and I shrug. “Who knows? But that’s why I’m here, right? If they can’t take a hint in the traditional way, then it’s not my problem. Seriously, they’re the reason why I’m here in the first place. And we have all damn night to figure out what I’m going to do to show them I can be a big girl. I’m not a damn child anymore!”
“Damn right you’re not!”
I give her a grin after I flash the doorman my I.D. He looks it over, then ushers me inside. Clarissa and our other friend, Natalie, come in behind me. The place is a lot smaller than I expected, and it doesn’t smell like sweat and cigarettes. While there’s a masculine edge to it, I don’t detect anything raunchy or terrible. There are a lot of men at the bar, and off in one of the corners is a younger guy playing guitar. Over the speakers comes country-style music, but it’s not so loud that it dominates the atmosphere. The lights are dim, but I can still see just fine. More than that, no one looks murderous. It’s a biker bar, so I was expecting guns, knives, and huge beards.
“Why are they all staring at us?” Natalie, more Clarissa’s friend than mine, scoots closer to me and grabs Clarissa’s arm.
“Maybe this isn’t the best idea.” I look around at all the faces, and my heart starts to pound. We should have gone to one of the other local bars that don’t involve bikers or angry men. Right now, all I can see is the potential for a kind of danger I’m not asking for.
“You guys are so chicken. Come on!” Clarissa laughs and struts over to the bar. “What’s the worst they can do to us? As far as I can see, there isn’t one man here I wouldn’t want to take home with me. Check out the guys over there, by the radio at the back. They’re pretty fine, aren’t they?” She swings her head around and smiles. “Or the fellows right nex
t to us at the bar. See them?”
I glance nervously at the men at the back as I sit down at a stool. There is no way I’m looking at the men next to us at the bar, so I ask the bartender for one of the local beers. “There are a lot of things they can do to us that I’m sure none of us have thought about, Ris. I’m pretty sure we’re asking for it, too.”
She sits next to me and gives me a bit of a shove. “Come on! What happened to all that ‘roar!’ from earlier?”
“It got swallowed whole by the idea of walking into a biker bar when we don’t know anyone. I’m all for proving to my parents that I can handle life on my own, but I don’t know if I’m prepared to put my life on the line for it.”