Ranger: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Cold Angels MC) (Bad Boy Bikers Club Book 4)

by Naomi West

  “Really?” he asked.

  “Yep,” I said. “Rich-people cars, ones that I bet are really fun to open up and take apart. And you know they’re worth more money.”

  “That’d be so freaking awesome,” he said. “You have to show me how to do it.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But you’re going to have to spend a ton of time on social media. Here, let me show you …”

  I couldn’t believe I was helping some kid learn how to steal better, but that was the world I was in now. Besides, Ranger was going out of his way to keep me safe, so I figured it was the least I could do.

  And, like Ranger had been talking about, if anyone’s cars were going to be stolen, I’d prefer it happened to people who could easily replace their cars through insurance rather than some working-class people who’d be screwed if their car went missing.

  I led Mike through the process and he seemed to be a quick learner. Still, I couldn’t shake the fact that he was so freaking young. And why was he here, and not at his home or with his parents?

  “Just out of curiosity, Mike,” I asked. “Does your family care that you’re here? You know, with guys like Ranger?”

  He shrugged, his eyes on the screen as he flicked through some more pictures.

  “Don’t have any family,” he said as though it was the most normal thing in the world to say.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, I do,” he said. “My dad owned a car repair place and I used to work there after school part-time. It was cool until my mom died in a car accident while my dad was driving. He was drunk or something and he never really got over it.”

  “Oh my God,” I said.

  Mike nodded.

  “Yeah. My dad kept beating himself up over it, started drinking more and more, and eventually he lost the shop.”

  “And how did you meet Ranger?”

  “He came in every now and then and bought spare parts for his bike. Ranger said he liked to do the work himself, but my dad could get the parts in cheap. He and I talked sometimes, and he’d ask me about school and all that junk. It was like he actually cared, but I didn’t really know why, you know?”

  “Then what happened? When your dad lost the shop?”

  “The new owners let me work some hours, but not as many as my dad did. And it sucked because, whatever I earned, my dad would just steal and spend on booze or whatever else. Anyway, Ranger must’ve been able to tell something was up, because he asked me about all of it. And I told him.”

  He went on.

  “I remembered thinking it was kind of weird that Ranger cared, but I also thought he was kind of cool, you know? And I knew he was a biker and that’s what I wanted to be. Anyway, when Ranger found out what was up with my family, he told me that I could work for him. I’d be able to practice working on cars and use the garage for my own stuff when I had the time.”

  “Really?” I asked, somewhat surprised.

  “Yeah,” he said. “And Ranger keeps all my money that I earn so my dad doesn’t get to it. He says the only thing is that I have to stay off drugs and booze and not drop out of high school. He said that if I play my cards right, when I graduate I’ll have my own ride and a bunch of money to go to college or whatever.”

  “And is that what you want to do?”

  “I want to join the Angels,” he said, getting excited. “But Ranger says I need to be an adult before I make a decision like that. And he said that I’d be better off going to school so I don’t end up like my dad.”

  I sat back, taking that all in. Ranger sounded like he was stepping up and being the exact kind of man a kid like Mike needed in his life.

  Was there more to this guy than I’d given him credit for?

  Ranger was getting more intriguing by the second.

  19

  Cassie

  I took a drag of my cigarette, my eyes fixed on the city sprawled out around us. Below, the evening at Cold Angel HQ was well underway, the sounds of guys chatting and laughing loudly punctuated occasionally by the growl of an engine filled the night air.

  “So,” said Angela. “You getting settled in all right?”

  She handed me the little bottle of whiskey that we’d been sharing. My lungs were red and raw from my cigarette and I let out a hard cough as I reached for the bottle.

  “You okay over there?” Angela asked.

  I held up my hand as I finished my cough.

  “Sorry,” I said. “But I think this is maybe the third cigarette I’ve ever had in my life.”

  “And how’re your lungs liking it?” she asked with a warm smile.

  “Not at all, I don’t think.”

  I swigged the whiskey, the booze agreeing with me far more than the cigarette.

  “Want me to take it off your hands?” she asked. “I’m about due for another.”

  “Sure,” I said, handing the cigarette over.

  Angela took it and brought it to her lips, bringing a full drag into her lungs. She let out twin puffs of air through her small, cute nose and shook her head.

  “My momma would kill be if she knew I was smoking,” she said. “And I know I need to quit. But damn, when you live with a bunch of bikers their bad habits rub off on you.”

  “I’ll bet,” I said.

  Then a thought occurred to me.

  “You … you like it?” I asked.

  I figured I ought to ask. After all, who knew for how long much longer I’d have to be staying here.

  “Love it more than anything,” said Angela. “I always knew, even when I was a little girl, that a normal life wasn’t for me. Couldn’t see myself living in a house with a white picket fence and all that junk, married to some guy who worked in a cubicle. Maybe it works for other people, but not for me.”

  “How did you meet these guys?” I asked. “I hope it was in better circumstances than how I met Ranger.”

  Angela chuckled a soft, rich laugh.

  “Honey, I don’t think circumstances come worse than the one you got dealt,” she said. “But yeah, they were better. Back when I was about your age some friends of mine all went to some house party. I’d been to a million parties like that, but for some reason it took me that time to realize it sure as shit wasn’t my scene. So, I snuck off, found this here bar, and, like the dummy I was, wandered in.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at the idea of a cute, clueless girl wandering into a biker bar all by herself. Angela shot me a good-natured glance in response.

  “I know, I know—stupid as shit. But I didn’t know any better. All I cared about were those tattoos and bikes and muscles and … Oh, I’m getting all tingly just thinking about it.”

  I hated to admit it, but I was starting to understand exactly what she was talking about. The effect Ranger was having on me was like nothing I’d ever experienced from a guy before. And it had only been one day.

  “Then what?” I asked. “I bet those guys wanted to eat you alive.”

  “You got it,” she said. “I was a cute little thing back then—like to think I still am.”

  She was right about that. Angela was older than me, but couldn’t have been older than her early thirties. And she was stunning—a biker’s dream girl.

  “I sauntered up to the bar, acting all tough and shit. Took all of two minutes before some biker was all over me. And not the sexy kind of biker—the kind who liked his beer and beef jerky a little more than he ought to.”

  “Oh no,” I said. “What happened?”

  A dreamy, happy smile formed on her face.

  “That was when I met Dakota. He stepped in, slugged the guy right across the face, and sent him to the ground like he was a sack of hamburger. It was love at first punch. Anyway, he bought me a drink and took me for my first ride on the back of a bike and that was that—I was done for. Been together ever since that night.”

  “That’s so sweet,” I said. “Sweeter than I’d expect from bikers.”

  “Hey now,” said Angela, reaching over and taking th
e whiskey. “Just because we’re rougher than the normies out in the city doesn’t mean we don’t fall in love and get all mushy now and then.”

  “Good point,” I said.

  “And we’ve even talked about starting a family. Things have been too damn crazy to think about that nowadays. And if there’s a war about to happen … who knows?”

  “Maybe once you guys win you can have some kids?” I asked.

  “Aren’t you sweet?” she asked, a smile on her face. “And maybe a little overly optimistic. I know if you talk to any of the guys they’ll act like war would be nothing to sneeze at. But I’ve been with the gang for long enough to see boys beaten and mangled and … and worse. Especially if we get into it with the Heretics. It’ll be a bad scene.”

  I suddenly needed a swig of whiskey. Angela, as if reading my mind, handed me the bottle.

  “But you don’t need to worry about any of that,” she said, trying to reassure me.

  “Are you sure about that?” I asked. “The Heretics want me dead.”

  “Sure,” said Angela. “I’m not going to try to tell you that you’re not in a scary spot. But these guys here tonight? They’re the exact men you want looking out for you when things get rough. They love their bikes and their booze and their fun, but the only thing they love more are their women, and they’ll do anything to keep them safe.”

  It was strange to hear myself described as one of “their women.” Was that really what I was? Sure, Ranger and I had … gotten closer over the last day, and sure, there was something pulling me towards him that I could barely wrap my mind around. But all of this seemed so strange, so different. I was still trying to make sense of it all.

  I took a swig of my whiskey. Between the mild buzz and the pleasant evening air, I felt pretty damn good. Angela took a drag from her cigarette, the orange ember illuminating in the night.

  “Besides,” said Angela. “You’re a smart girl—I can tell. You’ll know what to do to keep out of trouble.”

  “I hope you’re right,” I said, handing the bottle back to Angela.

  The two of us chatted for a little while longer, and before I knew it, a quick check of my watch revealed that it was already after one in the morning. I felt a little more tipsy than buzzed, and decided it was time to turn in.

  “Thanks for the drinks, Angela,” I said. “But I think it’s time for me to get to bed. A hangover’s the last thing I need with all that’s going on.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said. “And good call. I’m going to hang out for a little while longer and enjoy the evening. Believe it or not, at this point the sounds of the guys carrying on below is actually a weird kind of soothing.”

  I gave her one last smile.

  “Night,” I said.

  She smiled and nodded before turning her attention back to the cityscape around us.

  Once I was back on my feet and alone, I realized that I’d had maybe just a little too much to drink. I still felt in control of myself, but my thoughts were somewhat muddled in my head.

  As I headed back towards my room, a tinge of fear ran through me. I realized that being alone was the last thing I wanted right now. I put my hand on the doorknob and held it for a long moment.

  A pair of heavy footsteps sounded down at the end of the hall. I looked in the direction of the sound and saw a large, muscular figure appear in the dark. My heart skipped a beat at first, as if my body was expecting a Heretic, here to finish the job.

  Relief washed over me when I realized that it wasn’t a Heretic at all—it was Ranger.

  He stopped when he laid eyes on me. I felt … strange under his stare. My skin began to tingle, and I froze in place as though I was a deer under the gaze of a hungry wolf.

  “There you are,” he said, his voice low.

  “Here I am,” I said, my own voice small.

  “I was looking for you,” he said. “Got a little worried when I couldn’t find you.”

  “Oh,” I said. “I was just up on the roof with Angela.”

  He nodded, as if approving.

  “Good,” he said. “Don’t want you too far out of reach.”

  I liked that word. “Reach” suggested “touch.” And at that moment, I realized all I wanted was for him to touch me.

  Ranger moved slowly towards me, his big black boots thudding on the wood floor. He was soon only a foot or two from me.

  “I know this is a shitty situation,” he said. “But I want you to know you’re in good hands.”

  That was exactly what I wanted—to be in good hands. His hands.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I appreciate it.”

  He looked me up and down, as if trying to spot something off with me. Him being this close to me felt so good, so right. It was the opposite of the scared, small feeling I’d had at the idea of being alone tonight. I bit my lower lip and chewed it softly, my eyes locked onto his.

  “Is there … anything else you need tonight?”

  I took in a slow breath and spoke. Then I stepped closer to him, closing the distance between the two of us.

  “Yeah,” I said. “There’s something I can think of.”

  Ranger didn’t need to hear another word. He leaned down and kissed me slowly and passionately.

  20

  Cassie

  He tasted like heaven. It was that same whiskey and cigarette and sex taste that I’d gotten to know before, the last time we’d made love, but whereas before it had been new and thrilling, now it was like a flavor I’d been craving my whole life.

  Ranger put his hands on my arms, his touch so perfect that I worried I might melt into a puddle of excitement and arousal. His tongue moved into my mouth, playing with mine and sending a soft sigh past my lips.

  My own hands clamped down onto his body and I felt the outlines of his muscles through the thin cotton of his T-shirt. His body was solid and cut and perfect—it felt more like the body of a superhero than some ordinary man.

  Then again, Ranger was hardly ordinary.

  We kissed for several long moments. Finally, Ranger took his lips from mine and looked down at me. Part of me was worried that he was going to say something like “this isn’t a good idea,” or “we shouldn’t be doing this.”

  Thankfully, he didn’t say anything of the sort.

  “Might want to take this out of the hallway,” he said with a killer smile and a twinkle in his eye. “Don’t need any of the guys walking in on this.”

  I suddenly felt in a teasing mood.

  “And what would that ‘this’ be, exactly?” I asked with a smirk.

  “I think you know exactly what I mean,” he said. “It’s the ‘this’ that you and I have both been thinking about all damn day.”

  He had me there. The sex earlier in the day had been something else, but as satisfying as it was, I wanted more.

  Ranger reached over and opened the door, the room dark. His hand on my hip, he led me into the small space and flicked on the lamp light, the soft orange glow filling the room with wonderfully moody ambience.

  The room wasn’t exactly the Four Seasons, but I didn’t care. There was a bed —or something like it—and Ranger. I didn’t need anything else.

  As soon as he shut the door, the two of us were all over one another. He moved in and kissed me hard, his tongue going right back to work inside of my mouth.

  We stripped each other down as we kissed, getting right to business. I slipped his leather, patch-covered vest off over his shoulders and he took me out of my T-shirt. One by one, our clothes came off, both of us tossing whatever we’d removed into the corner.

  I couldn’t help but peek out of slightly-opened eyes as we kissed. His body was so perfect and gorgeous that it was impossible to resist. My eyes danced from tattoo to tattoo, from scar to scar. It was a body built for action, and one that seemed like it’d been carved out of stone.

  Soon he and I were both down to nothing more than our underwear. I was in a simple pair of white, patterned bra and panties, and Range
r wore a pair of gray boxer-briefs that clung tightly to the outline of his cock, the member growing harder and stiffer by the moment.

  I couldn’t resist it. I reached down and shoved my hand into his underwear, wrapping my fingers around his stiff cock. It was warm and hard in my hard, and I let out a soft sigh as I took it into my grasp.

  Ranger’s knees buckled just a bit, and a small smile formed on my lips at how much he clearly enjoyed my touch. I grazed the contours of his head with my thumb, teasing him and making his cock as hard as I wanted it.

  As if not in control of myself, I dropped to my knees in front of him. My thoughts were dominated by his cock—it was all I could even begin to think about. Once I was kneeling in front of him, I slipped my fingers under the waistband of his underwear, taking them down to his ankles.

  Ranger’s cock popped out to greet me, and I had to move my head a little to avoid it knocking me right in the face. It was so freaking long and thick that I could hardly believe it, and as I sat there with my hand barely able to wrap around the whole thing, I wondered how I’d managed to fit it in before.

  I supposed that I was going to find out again.

  I stroked Ranger’s cock, glancing up at him as I did with a big, sensual smile on my face, my eyes narrowed in sexual hunger. He brushed my hair back with his hand, giving himself a clear view of what was about to go down … so to speak.

  I worked my jaw, preparing to take him into my mouth. He was so thick and long that it wasn’t going to be easy, but I was more than up to the challenge.

  My mouth opened slightly, and I began by covering his head in soft licks.

  “Fuck,” he moaned between deep breaths. “You’re good with that tongue of yours.”

  “Just wait until you see what else I can do,” I said.

  I kissed and licked his head some more before opening my mouth and taking his entire head in. It was strange hearing words like those come out of my mouth—I’d never really considered myself the “sex kitten” type, but something about Ranger brought it out of me.