Archangels MC: A Reverse Harem Romance (Bad Influence Book 2)

by Ivy Fox

  “The guys might not like me going over to your place of work,” I explain in a low tone, hoping Joe doesn’t pick up on my hidden meaning.

  “Screw ‘em. You’re going and that’s final. When does your shift end?”

  “Around five.”

  “Nah, I don’t want to wait that long. Sorry, Joe, but you mind if we rain check on breakfast? I’d really like to take Hope to the hospital sooner rather than later.”

  “No, of course not, Rory. Go on ahead. I’ll make sure to explain it all to George.”

  “Thank you, baby brother. Oh, and don’t call me Rory in a public place, will ya? I do have a reputation to uphold.”

  “Whatever you say, sis. Now go and get your friend taken care of,” he says in a friendly warm tone. I’m being absolutely ridiculous. This man’s whole demeanor shouts out to be as nurturing and amicable as his sibling. Nothing in his stance indicates any differently, yet even his familiar, caring tone sends a shiver of dread down my spine.

  “Thanks,” she says, and leans in to give him a side hug. Although I do feel much better and I know it’s not necessary for Aurora to take me in to be examined, the thought of putting some much-needed distance between myself and her so-called baby brother, is too alluring to pass up. I pack up my things and follow Aurora without complaint, not looking back once at the stranger who awoke such nightmarish fear in me while being very much awake.

  After Aurora double-checks every test she can think of, she finally relents and lets me return to work—but only after making me promise, again, to call her immediately should I feel anything out of the ordinary.

  Luckily, George wasn’t too upset by me leaving my shift without a word to either him or Mabel. He even told me I could take a few days off if I wasn’t feeling up to it, but I surprised him when I asked if he wouldn’t mind me doing the afternoon shift instead, since I had spent the whole morning being poked and prodded by an overbearing Aurora, and missed most of my morning shift as it was. It took a little convincing on my part, since George wasn’t too keen on keeping me on if I had some sort of health scare. Not sure if he was more worried about me suddenly collapsing on the floor, or what Michael and the boys would do to him if he didn’t try to send me home to prevent it from happening.

  I wasn’t naïve in thinking the guys back home were clueless to today’s events. Either Aurora or George himself must have alerted them. Still, I only had one text message from Cam, asking me when he was supposed to pick me up tonight, not mentioning once my little trip to the emergency room. I tried my best to put this morning’s events to the back of my mind and just go on with my afternoon. I really didn’t want to think too much on the reason why I had such a freak-out meeting Aurora’s brother. I put it down to him being a cop, and my current living arrangement. Me living with semi-criminals, even if they don’t accept the fact that they are, must have heightened my sensibilities. My fight-or-flight reactions as they were—apparently flight being my go-to emotion, when faced with such an individual—must have kicked in. But Joe is not my problem. I shouldn’t even have panicked like I did, since I’m sure he’s more than aware of what his brother and nephew are involved in. And if he’s not, well that’s the Archangels’ problem, not mine. It was foolish of me to have reacted in such a way and I’ll have to be mindful of my feelings should we ever encounter again.

  The rest of the afternoon goes by in a flash, and too soon do I hear a motor of a chopper park outside the diner. I say my goodbyes to George in the kitchen letting him know he’s on his own, since Mabel went home a few hours ago. The diner is pretty dead. The only clientele left are just two guys on the corner, playing chess and talking over some coffee, so I’m sure George will be fine by himself. The minute I step foot outside the diner’s door, I can’t hide the smile that wants to come out at the sight before me.

  “What’s this?” I ask, walking toward the man who looks like an updated version of a slick James Dean, holding a small bouquet of flowers in his hand.

  “What does it look like?” he replies, with all his swagger in full throttle.

  “It looks like you are wearing something other than your usual ripped-up jeans, put on a clean shirt, and are picking me up from work with a bouquet of daisies in your hand,” I rebuke, with my hand on my waist admiring said flowers.

  “Hey, I always wear a clean shirt,” he fakes injury and I can’t help but laugh at his dramatic pout. Cam really is too attractive for his own good. That small pout must get him in trouble as much as out of it when he wants it.

  “Fine. You do look nice, though, and the flowers are a nice touch. Are you going to see someone or something?” I ask, inwardly dreading the thought that maybe those flowers aren’t for me.

  “Yep, going to see my girl and take her out to have some fun tonight,” he remarks with a glint in his eye.

  “Your girl, huh?” I bite my inner cheek before letting my wide grin get the best of me.

  “We ain’t there yet, Hope? You wound me. But I’m a patient man. You’ll see soon enough that I’m a catch.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I’ll catch something, alright, from all the cheesy lines you’re feeding me.” His dimples come out with his own wide grin, and he takes the two steps he needs to close the distance between us.

  “How about it, Hope? You wanna go out and have some fun? Heard you had a rough day today, and you’ve been working hard lately, so I thought it was about time you give yourself a little breather. And if you’re looking for some fun, I’m definitely your man,” he adds, with a mischievous wink.

  “I don’t doubt that. You’re a carnival all on your own,” I reply, unfazed, exaggerating my disinterest, even though my stomach is in knots with his flirting. It’s getting harder and harder to keep my icy demeanor up with him, when he’s so intent on melting my insides with every word.

  “See? And I’d let you ride on anything you got your eye on—for free, too,” he says, his wolfish hazel eyes traveling my body appreciatively.

  I roll my eyes at his blatant ogling, but this time I can’t help but let out a small giggle. Spending time with Mabel is apparently making me act like a schoolgirl, too. Not very smart of me to do, especially when Cam is on the prowl and looking at me like I’m on the menu. Still, I am curious as to what he considered date-worthy.

  “What do you have in mind?”

  “Well, usually dates involve a nice dinner, and maybe a movie,” he starts.

  “Sounds about right.”

  “Sounds lame as fuck. I was thinking of taking you to the best bar in town and playing some darts or pool over some hot chicken wings,” he says, excited. I laugh at his enthusiasm as he licks his lips exaggeratedly over chicken wings and bar games, but after this long day, a night out with Cam does sound appealing. Any night with Cam is guaranteed with me spending it half bent over in laughter. He always seems to be able to reach that side of me so effortlessly, and after today’s unsettling mood, I could do with a couple of good laughs.

  “Sounds like fun. Lead the way then, Cam. I’m all yours for the night.”

  “Hope, darling, you have got to stop saying shit like that. Makes a man think of other fun things he can do with you,” he says, but there is only friendly humor in his deep green-brown eyes.

  “Keep your trouser snake in your pants, Cam. I’m agreeing to a night with non-alcoholic beer and some barbeque. That’s all,” I goad him, trying not to think too hard about why I mention his male anatomy all of a sudden.

  “A man can dream. Come on then, grab your stuff and let’s get this show on the road,” he says, not embarrassed one bit by my remark, and patting the seat behind him on his bike. I take the helmet he hands my way and straddle the menacing machine, holding on for dear life as Cam brings it back to life.

  Three hours later, Cam had delivered exactly what I needed. A fun night out, without a care in the world. Sure, the bar is rowdy, crowded, and far too loud for us to have any type of meaningful conversation, but this is exactly the type of escape I was c
raving. I feel almost normal amongst the heavy rock-and-roll blasting through every speaker in this cramped town bar. Like I am just a girl out with an extremely handsome man on a Friday night date, eating greasy food, and kicking his ass playing darts, while shaking her hips to some 90’s one-hit wonder.

  “You’re a natural,” Cam whisper-yells in my ear, as he pulls me on his lap when I hit the bull’s eye once again, now three times in a row. Gabriel’s tutoring is really paying off. It’s as if I can see exactly where I need to aim to hit my target right where I want it to, with my blade—or in this case, with a measly dart head.

  “And you’re incorrigible,” I giggle, as I slap his hands off of me and slide next to him, away from his warm lap. I take a sip of my cherry cola and smile widely at him as he stands up and fixes his pants for what seems like the twelfth time tonight.

  “Can’t argue there—still, if I knew you were going to kick my butt playing darts, I would have chosen another game. I mean, how am I supposed to look all manly and charming to you if you’re wiping the floor with my ass?”

  Grabbing the maraschino cherry from my soda, I put it in my mouth and pull the stem with my teeth, and this little flirtatious action makes Cam grunt something under his breath, shifting yet again from side to side, looking terribly uncomfortable with his choice of attire.

  “Oh, you still have your charms,” I tease.

  “Hope so, darling, cause from where I’m standing, I see at least a dozen other guys in this bar who would love to take my place and do a better job at wooing you.”

  “Oh, is that what you’re attempting to do? Woo me?” I laugh.

  “Woo, bed, whatever you in the mood for, I’m game,” he replies, giving me another boyish wink of his.

  “Like I said, you’re incorrigible.”

  “Still cute as a button, am I right?” he asks, proudly wearing those two dimples—that were designed by the Creator himself—to melt any woman’s panties within a two-mile radius.

  I can’t help but laugh at his own compliment. Here he is, trying to pass as a normal everyday guy, instead of the bad-ass biker I know him to be, and looking damn fine doing it. It is entertaining, I’ll give him that, and maybe even a little bit adorable, but that I won’t admit to him. It’s been hard enough keeping my hands folded on my lap most of the night just so I won’t feel tempted to run my fingers through his sandy curls. This night has been incredibly fun and terribly excruciating at the same time. Cam decided to hold no stops tonight, apparently. Putting his charm on, the man has made it very difficult not to get whatever he wants from me, but I can’t go there with him. I went there with Michael and Gabriel once, and Gabriel made sure I knew that was a one-time occurrence, not ever to be repeated. If he found out I let myself give in to my own desires with Cam, no less, he might take issue with it. Enough of it for him to reconsider his defense training and stop it all together. And I treasure those moments with Gabriel, just as much as I treasure my time with Cam.

  “What’s that scowl all about?” Cam asks, and I realize my mind must have drifted far enough away that I didn’t even realize he had finished with his turn and was back sitting next to me on the spongy seat.

  “Huh?”

  “You were here one minute, then off the next. What’s up, Hope?” he asks, concern plastered on his face, as he takes a small strand of my hair and tucks it behind my ear. The simple action so tender and unlike the carefree man beside me, a shiver runs through me in response to his light touch.

  “It’s nothing. It’s getting late, Cam. We should go,” I state, amusement no longer marring my voice.

  “Did I do something wrong, Hope? Make you feel uncomfortable at all?” Cam asks, and I see genuine worry glaze over his usual confident stare.

  Damn it.

  This is not how I wanted to end this wonderful night. Cam has been nothing but incredible the whole evening, and it’s not his fault I’m the one who can’t keep it in her pants. Now, somehow, I made him feel he’s done something to make me feel awkward, when in reality he has been the heavenly wind that gave me one night of true normalcy. Something I thought was still so far away from my reach, and yet tonight, Cam proved the very opposite.

  I take his hands and clasp them with both of mine on my lap, looking at how small mine are compared to his. I caress each one of them, hoping to take away any doubt that he could ever make me feel any less than wonderful. Because, since the first day I opened my eyes and laid them on Cam, that has always been his one and only purpose—to make me happy. I have no idea why in this life I was given this friend, this angel, who wants to give me things I don’t think I deserve, but I’m grateful for it. I may not show it and I may fight against it, but I am so grateful for waking up to a life with Cam in it.

  “No, Cam, you didn’t do anything wrong. Tonight was just what I needed. Thank you,” I tell him sincerely, and the twinkle in his eyes is back with a vengeance. He leans in closer and takes my hands in his this time, stroking each finger as if promising with each tender touch how he could make every other part of my body feel just as good. I feel my core clench in a way I wasn’t expecting in such a crowded venue, but the little she-devil never ceases to amaze me with her avid desires.

  “The night is still young, darling. We don’t have to go home if you don’t want to,” he whispers in my ear, and his hot breath on my skin makes me squirm further.

  “What are you doing, Cam?”

  “Trying to change your mind on calling it a night,” he says, and I feel him place a soft kiss on the tender spot behind my ear, making me shudder.

  “Cam,” I warn, but it comes out too breathless for him to pick up as a threat.

  “Just one kiss, sweetheart,” he replies huskily, and the lust embodied in his tone only ignites my own.

  “Gabriel won’t like it,” I answer, moving my neck to the side so he can continue to torture me with his scorching kisses, making my skin hum in delight with the song his lips are singing.

  “Gabriel?” he asks, his brows bunched together, confused why I would bring his best friend’s name up right now.

  “Hmm,” I mumble, too entranced by the way his tongue slides down my neck, making each cell of my being crave its wickedness to find home in every little curve and crevice it can find on my body. I pull my knees together and clench my core tighter, trying to seek some form of relief from this myriad of exotic emotions that Cam’s simple seduction is playing on me.

  “Gabriel isn’t here now, is he?” he breathes out over my neck, teasing me into a wanton mess.

  “One kiss. I hardly think any harm will come from a little old kiss. Do you, darling?” he tempts me, kissing my chin, moving closer and closer to the place I need his hungry mouth to find its home.

  “No, one kiss won’t do any harm,” I hear myself whisper, my fingers already finding root in his hair, as they had ached to do all evening. I pull his head toward my own and take what’s promised.

  One kiss.

  What harm can a kiss do?

  Cam’s full lips capture mine, gently at first, tasting my cherry lips and humming his approval. His hands go to my waist, and I feel his grip turn firmer with each passing second as our lips acquaint themselves with each other. He tastes like malt liquor, intoxicating my senses. When I feel his wicked tongue beg for entrance, I am too enraptured to not comply, which is my downfall. Because when our tongues meet for the first time, they begin a war of their own. Wanting to own each other, they dance and fuck as if no one’s watching. My nipples ache, unattended, and beg me to get the teeth that are tantalizing my lower lip into submission to show them the same dominance. I moan out unashamedly and he groans into mine, gripping my waist with such need that I’m sure I’ll find crescent moons on my skin in the morning. Cam pulls back and places his forehead on mine, and I mentally slap myself for not being me to end this.

  “That was some kiss, love,” he pants, while I try to halt my own breathing. After a few seconds of silence, Cam places one finger under my ch
in and raises my head so I can look him in the eyes, making sure there is no way to hide from him. I try to control my thoughts as much as I can, but I doubt I’m able to hide just how much this one kiss has affected me.

  “I think we have to do this date night shit more often,” he winks at me, looking like a devilish cat that got the proverbial cream.

  God help me.

  Chapter 18

  Michael

  “I see you brought the girl,” Uri remarks under his breath, none too pleased at my side.

  “Would you have preferred I left her back at the house alone?” I ask my uncle, annoyed at his displeasure of me bringing Hope to the clubhouse with us today. When he doesn’t answer me, I face him head-on, but stop myself just in time before I say something that would put him over the edge. Instead, I try the diplomatic approach, hoping this way I could reason with him, and maybe soothe his moody disposition.

  “It’s the Fourth of July, Uri. One of the few days of the year the clubhouse is open to townies, so I didn’t see the harm in bringing Hope along.”

  “Hmm,” he mumbles, with his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes are still locked on Hope as she continues to laugh at whatever Cam is saying across the yard, sitting next to him and Gabriel on one of the picnic tables. Even though she looks like any other normal girl in attendance, I know that, to Uri, Hope resembles some sort of unspoken threat he wants to get rid of. I just don’t understand why. At first, I thought it was because of her mysteriously surfacing into our lives, but recently I’m not too sure. All I know is that Uri’s distaste for Hope’s presence makes the relationship I have with my uncle that much more strained. Add the fact of his constant pressure of my impending presidency, plus his dislike of the woman I share a home with, and the unwanted feelings of resentment of the only father figure I have left keep on increasing.

  He continues to look at her like some insect he wishes to squash with his boot, creating the need to smash my fist into his face for even going there. Still, I school my own expression, not letting Uri see his dislike for Hope pissing me off to no end.