Never Kiss an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love)

by Nicole Snow

  Here's to a better life, or just something to take the fucking edge off.

  -Firefly

  I didn't realize I was hugging the bottle until I finally moved. I must've drank half of it with my meal before I crashed again, sleeping with a stupid, unexpected smile on my lips.

  Nobody had done anything so nice for me since I'd graduated high school, when daddy had a huge German chocolate cake lined up for me and all my friends. The same kind momma used to bake.

  The wine was decent, but it wasn't anything amazing. It didn't matter.

  That stupid bottle of red with the fake French branding made me happier than the money I'd left crumpled in my pants pocket.

  Somebody actually cared. Somebody who spent his days drinking, cursing, and probably chasing the first girl he saw who made his dick stand up.

  Maybe there was a little of that here, too. I couldn't just ignore the hot promises in his eyes each time he looked at me. But so what?

  I slipped off feeling toasty and loved.

  Even if it was an illusion, and only an illusion, it was the one I needed just then. The only one that gave me a shred of hope I'd survive another day at the Ruby Heel.

  * * * *

  For three more days, I kept it together. A tiny glass of wine after work every day helped.

  That last little taste, I snuck before leaving for my fourth shift. It only went so far. I'd thanked Firefly for the wine, but I'd been too afraid to say more, scared of letting him see how much he'd really touched me with the crazy surprise.

  Meg flipped me to nights, a time that was a little busier. She swore up and down the girls would have more incentive to move, seeing how they made their best tips right between ten and two in the morning.

  Men were at their drunkest, their horniest, and their neediest just then. So far, the night crew consisted of three girls I hadn't worked with before – and they were just as bitchy as the evening crew.

  All of them talked. They knew I was a pushover before the night even began.

  A blonde in her late twenties with fake boobs and a couple inches on me named Trig was up next. Rather, she should've been on the stage getting naked ten minutes ago.

  Instead, she sat backstage, taking messy sips off some cheap gin she'd snuck in her purse when she'd showed up about an hour ago.

  I clenched my teeth, circling her like a vulture. “You should really put that down. Club rules say no drugs, no cigarettes, and no drinks before your act. It's a big liability to have that stuff in your system when you're up there on stage.”

  “Oh, you again?” Trig threw her hair back and nasty laughter bellowed out her throat. “Corral or whatever the fuck your name is – shut up. I've done this act a zillion times with this stuff kissing my veins. Makes the time go by faster. I don't tell you how to do your job, and you don't need to say shit about mine. Don't know what Meg was thinking when she brought you in. I've seen girls younger and prettier than you who'd do a better job of –“

  Shut up? SHUT UP?!

  My brain went straight to my hands. Before I knew what was happening, I lunged, and my nails dug deep against the stripper's perfumed scalp. I yanked her hair with my fingers so hard I thought I'd rip it right out.

  The bitch screamed. Loud. My eardrums were about one octave away from busting.

  I let out a growl, whipping her around with all my strength when she stood up and tried to fight back.

  Two other girls backstage started hollering. Luckily, they didn't interfere, just stood there pointing and laughing while Trig got the jump on me and flattened me against the ground.

  I went down kicking and scratching. No more nice girl.

  She clawed at my face with her long extensions. They were sharper than they looked. I screamed, found her wrist with my teeth, and bit hard. Never stopping until I tasted blood.

  Her pain howled through the thick curtain separating us from the stage, and I could hear the commotion out there rising.

  Ever since I'd shown up here, I'd been abused, brushed off, and scorned by these dumb girls who probably had half the brain cells I did to rub together.

  Whatever, brains wouldn't help me now. I fought with all my strength, rolling and snarling while the other girls screams grew louder.

  I didn't realize how far we'd moved until men were jeering all around us. We'd wrestled right through the curtain, out onto stage, and now we were tonight's latest act.

  The hot spotlight burned my eyes. Mostly, I just saw red as Trig's dark silhouette sat on my chest, slapping me across the face over and over again.

  Something unnatural tore through my veins, a demon energy pounding in my chest.

  I'm already in too deep, and I'm NOT losing. Fuck you, bitch.

  I opened my mouth, knew I was screaming bloody murder, but I couldn't hear anything except my own heart pounding in my temples. Sheer adrenaline tensed my muscles, giving me superhuman strength.

  I screamed and screamed, pushing her with all my weight. A second later, she was off me, and then I jumped all over her.

  Men roared louder, drowning us out. One guy tried to climb on the stage.

  “Fucking hell, look at these bimbos go!”

  “Why the hell's the little one still got her damned clothes on?”

  “Cat-Fight! Cat-Fight! Cat-Fight!”

  I gave the stripper's hair another raging pull. I would've done it this time, torn her stupid locks straight out of her head – if only somebody else hadn't yanked on mine.

  Frozen, I looked up.

  For a second, I swore I'd started hallucinating. Firefly hauled me up into his monstrous arms, threw me over his shoulder, and headed backstage.

  “Don't you dare break this up, you bastard!” I snarled, talking through the pain still rattling through my teeth. “Don't. You. Dare!”

  I pounded his back, cursing up a storm, catching one more glimpse of Skin and a couple other big bikers shuttling Trig through the throngs of screaming drunks.

  “Let me go, damn you! Don't you know the other bitch started it?”

  “Babe, I don't give a fuck. Right now, I've had it up to here with your shit. Any more, and your hot little ass is gonna feel the sunny side of my hand.”

  My shit? If he didn't have such a strong hold on me, I'd have whipped around and slapped him across the face.

  Harder than I'd ever done it before. I wanted to hurt him, just like the past week had torn at me, no matter how insane it seemed.

  I didn't care if he made good on his promises to pull my pants down and spank me.

  Didn't care if it would've boiled my blood so hot it came pouring out my ears.

  Jesus, I didn't fucking care if I'd have loved every second of it. Didn't care if it distracted me from the lunatic anger quaking through my body, imagining his violent hands slapping my ass as red as the neon lights in the club.

  Nothing else mattered except finding Trig and finishing what we'd started!

  I was still kicking when he put me down. I touched my lip, wincing when I felt the big cut I'd gotten from one of the bitch's punches, and hoped to holy God the skank wasn't carrying any diseases.

  Supposedly, Meg tested all the girls regularly for babies and STDs. And right now, a very disappointed looking Megan Willow Wilder stared me down, her arms folded.

  Firefly made damned sure I kept my butt in the chair where he'd planted me.

  “I'm disappointed,” she said, shaking her head. “Believe it or not, despite what this place is, we're supposed to keep a certain order around here.”

  Firefly nodded. I looked at them both defiantly.

  The way I burned for him – that was dangerous – especially when the only thing blazing should've been rage and shame.

  “I couldn't take it anymore,” I said. “I thought I could, and I'm sorry I let you down. I just hit my limit and...I broke, Meg.”

  I closed my eyes, feeling the devilish energy seeping out of me, leaving me totally drained. “Honestly, that's what happened. The things those girls sa
id, the way they treated me, letting everything roll off their shoulders.”

  “Trig won't be working no more, darlin',” Firefly rumbled.

  Meg looked at him, surprised, and so did I.

  “Club needs bitches it can rely on to shake their tits and asses. We don't need loose cannons.”

  “Um, excuse me, do you know how hard it is to find girls who test clean in this town?” I'd never heard Meg sound so sour.

  “Yeah, doll, as a matter of fact, I do. No, I didn't get an education about manpower in my daddy's business, and I don't know how to crunch numbers like Skin. But I do know any crew's downright fucked with the wrong people – including this one.” He spoke like he'd just launched a billion dollar startup.

  I wanted to laugh at his arrogance. Like he knew anything about business?

  “Dust'll hear about this shit sooner or later, and I know he'll agree with me. You think this girl went off like a grenade because the stripper bitch looked at her wrong? Fuck that! She had a good reason.”

  “Firefly, I'm sure she's telling the truth. I know who started it. But losing Trig is going to hurt us. We're stretched thin as it is.”

  “Let me make it up to you,” I said, standing. “Look, I don't know this business, this world, the way either one of you do. But I'm not giving up, guys. Not after today. I'm going to do my job right. These girls respect toughness. They won't get away with pushing me around anymore. I won't let them drag themselves out a minute late unless there's a damned good excuse. Give me another chance. I'll make them make this club rich!”

  “Well, I'll have to talk to Dust,” Meg said, staring at the ground before she looked at me. “If it's up to me, I'll give you another chance. Once, I had to adapt to this world, too. Growing pains are the norm, not the exception.”

  She pulled her leather jacket tight, the one with PROPERTY OF SKIN patched on the backside, like it insulated her from some ugliness she'd lived a long time ago.

  “Prez'll leave her be,” Firefly said. “Let me talk to him. We'll trump this whole fuckin' incident up to nothing but a skank with a screw loose. I believe in Cora. She's a smart girl.”

  I blinked. No way. Had I heard him right?

  He couldn't really be...complimenting me?

  He looked at me then, a reassuring smile shining in his ice blue eyes. “Also believe she'll come around and learn to behave herself.”

  Asshole. I bit my lip, only giving him a pass because he was on my side tonight.

  “Whatever. Just...get her home until I can sort out the chaos,” Meg said, frustration overwhelming her. “Ugh. And to think I left daddy's company for this,” she muttered to herself.

  Firefly stepped up to me and stuck out his big hand. “Walk with me, babe. We'll make sure you're safe from a concussion or some shit, and then I've got a surprise for you. Something that oughta go far to take the edge off that stick up your ass.”

  “Okay! You're really pressing your luck,” I said, taking his hand reluctantly.

  More surprises were exactly what I didn't need today. But if it was half as thoughtful as the wine the other night, then maybe he'd prove me wrong.

  I caught myself as we headed for his bike, shaking my head. What the hell was happening here?

  Firefly shouldn't be rattling around in my head when I'd just survived the fight with a stripper. I'd narrowly avoided losing my job, my only chance to stockpile some cash for the life I wanted after all this.

  Every muscle I had tensed up, and I realized with horror what was happening.

  The big, arrogant, bossy bastard was kicking his way into my heart, one day at a time. God help me.

  * * * *

  We went by the clubhouse for half an hour. An older woman, Laynie, checked me over while Firefly stood outside the bathroom.

  She took my pulse, pressed several points, and asked me to rate the pain. If I hadn't known any better, I'd have sworn she was a nurse or a doctor at one time.

  But why would someone like that be working for this club?

  Money goes a long way. I reminded myself. Money is probably what got daddy killed.

  Thankfully, she didn't say much. I needed the peace and quiet.

  When it was all over, she turned me out with a clean bill of health. Firefly grabbed my hand again as soon as I stepped out.

  “Ow! Just because she says nothing's broken doesn't mean I don't have some scrapes and bruises.”

  He loosened his grip. “Whatever. They can't be half as bad as the damage growing on your soul. I'm fixing to undo a little of that tonight.”

  “What are you talking about?'

  Firefly flashed me a sharp look, lifted his free hand, and pressed a finger against those big, rough lips surrounded by his stubble. “Quiet, babe. You'll find out soon enough.”

  Ass. Naturally, I thought about those lips doing dirty, unspeakable things the entire time we were on his bike, riding through Knoxville.

  My hands didn't want to press too tightly to his rock hard abs while we rode. This, right here, was starting to feel very dangerous.

  If I let myself hold onto him the way I really wanted, if I threw common sense to the wolves, then I'd come closer to the awful fantasies about his rough hands, his lips, his muscles, and his piney masculine scent.

  I wasn't stupid. Any girl who came too close to this man for her own good was bound to get burned.

  That wouldn't happen to me. I wouldn't let myself become the latest tinder to be stamped out the morning after I let him have his way.

  * * * *

  “Damn, I should've brought a fucking blindfold. Would've made this shit a lot more fun.” His cryptic words kept coming as we parked in front of a cozy looking building.

  I bit my tongue to keep myself from imagining all the things a bastard like him could do alone with just a girl and a blindfold. He grabbed me, helped me off his bike, and led me toward the door, fishing a key from his pocket for the main entrance.

  “Third floor's where we're at. Shame I couldn't get anything lower, but fuck, the view makes up for it.”

  My heart began pounding as he led me up some stylish steps, my hand in his.

  We stopped in front of a dark wooden door and I watched him change keys on the ring. One push, and we were inside it, standing in an apartment with spartan décor and nice wood finishes. It smelled piney, almost like a lodge.

  “Here, darlin'. Catch.” Firefly barely gave me a second to turn around before he threw the keys he'd been holding.

  My hand darted out. I grabbed them before they hit the floor. “What...what is this?”

  He snorted. “What the fuck does it look like, babe? This is your new place. Assuming you wanna cool your heels somewhere else that isn't my bed at night, anyway.”

  His cocky smile said anything involving me and his bed would've been just fine. Holy crap, that reminded me...

  I quickly walked through the apartment, a nice single bedroom unit. Kitchen couldn't have been more than ten years out of date, and it seemed fully furnished – everything except a TV.

  In the bedroom, there was a dresser next to a brand new bed, a big furry blanket with an outline of a black bear thrown over it.

  “The blanket's a loaner,” he said, walking up behind me. “That shit's been in my family for years, but it'll do 'til we can figure something else out. Can't guarantee how long you'll be here, or how long you'll want to be. If trouble comes to town looking for you, then the Prez'll want us to move, and I can't do shit about it.”

  We locked eyes. I nodded, understanding the strict terms attached. Hell, for a place this nice – my place – I'd have put my lips all over him.

  I let out a sigh, desperate not to let him see it. Jesus. The hot spot forming between my legs told me that wasn't just a torturous hypothetical.

  “You follow me, right, darlin'?” The intense look on his face that said he could've eaten me alive didn't help cool the heat one bit.

  I nodded, tilting my face toward the shadowy bedroom, hoping it would hi
de the flush blossoming on my cheeks. “Yeah. Everything's real tentative, I get it. Any other rules I should know about?”

  “You check in with me twice a day. I'll still be driving you to the Heel and back to make sure nothing crazy happens. You got any other big plans to go out, I'm the first one you tell. Remember, same shit the Prez told you holds true 'til this shit blows over – no contact with anybody you knew before the club. Can't have your friends asking any weird questions or dragging you out for drinks when the mean motherfuckers we're worried about could show up any time.”

  “Do I ever get to find out who I should be looking for behind my back?”

  He hesitated. “Only when it's over, or when the Prez says so. For now, you see anything that says Torches, you run. Move your ass, and then pick up the phone, stat. Same goes for any guys sniffing around you, acting all suspicious.”

  “Got it.”

  “I meant what I said back there,” he growled, grabbing me and pulling me close to his chest. “You're a smart girl, Cora. You play by the rules we've set, and everything'll be just fine. We'll get through this. You'll never have to be up close and personal with yours truly ever again.”

  Oh, God. Why did that sound so horrible?

  The ache between my legs doubled. I gave him a quick squeeze and then tore myself away, before he could find out how badly I wanted to find out where those dark stripes going up his arms went.

  “I won't forget this, Firefly. You're...you're a good guy. I think.” It sounded so stupid, but there wasn't any other way to say it.

  He smiled, ran his fingers through my hair, and then pulled away from me, heading for the door. “You've got drinks, plus a few more wraps and salads in the fridge. Get yourself a fucking pizza or something. I'd have torn my balls off by now if I had your diet, eating the same fat free bullshit all the time.”

  I was still laughing as the door opened. He disappeared, leaving me alone.

  Really, truly alone, for the first time since the awful evening when I'd come home to daddy's suicide.

  I closed my eyes, savoring the silence. At the clubhouse, there'd always been someone knocking around, laughing, swearing, or else smashing their empty bottle into a bin full of them. I couldn't count the times glass falling against glass had woken me up all those miserable hours.