Forgiveness: Nomad Biker Romance

by Chiah Wilder

  A loud, dramatic sigh made him glance over at Maggie. She clucked her tongue then gripped the steering wheel a bit tighter. “Okay, I’ll start this.” She cranked up the AC a bit even though it was fucking freezing in the cab and flicked her gaze from the road to him then back to the road. “I’ve never been on a motorcycle before, but I bet you’ve never been on a horse.”

  “You’d lose that bet. I grew up riding horses. I started rodeo bullfighting when I was in high school.”

  “Oh, yeah? Where’re you from?”

  “A small town in Texas—Johnson City. The biggest events around that area were the rodeos, but once I got my ass on an iron horse with the engine vibrating between my legs, I was hooked. Where’re you from?”

  “Greeley, Colorado.”

  “No shit. I used to work on a ranch, too, back in Colorado. That’s where I was patched.” Flux rolled the window down and stuck out his hand, wiggling his fingers into the hot air that slapped through his palm.

  Maggie looked over. “Are you cold or something?”

  “I just like the wind blowing on me. I’m not really fond of cages.”

  “Okay … you lost me.”

  “A cage is biker lingo for a car. If you want me to close it I can.”

  “No, that’s all right. I can just turn the AC higher. So your club’s in Colorado?”

  Flux rested his head against the seat and enjoyed the breeze blowing over him. “Pinewood Springs.”

  “What a small world. I love Pinewood Springs. My family and I used to go there a lot when I was a kid to visit the hot springs and swim in the mineral pool. Some of my friends and I celebrated my eighteenth birthday there. We had fake IDs and we went to the Neon Cowboy and had a blast. Did you ever go there?”

  “Yeah, my wi—” Flux shifted in the seat. “I used to go there often. It’s a great place.”

  “Wouldn’t that be a kick in the ass if you were there when I was?” Maggie giggled.

  “Yeah, but I definitely would remember if I ever saw or met you before, Duchess. You’re not the kind of woman a man forgets too easily.”

  A light red painted her cheeks and he grinned, loving how damn cute she looked when she got flustered or embarrassed. Watch it. This is just casual, remember?

  “Why aren’t you still in Pinewood Springs?” she asked.

  “Some shit went down and I decided to go nomad. Been on my own for about six years now, doing my own thing, and occasionally going back if my MC needs me.”

  “Sounds lonely,” she sympathized gently, but with less pity than he expected, which was a nice touch.

  “It is what it is.” Flux stretched out his legs as best he could in the cramped quarters.

  “How old are you?”

  “Too old for you.”

  “I don’t think so. I’d say you’re around thirty-one or two.”

  “Thirty—like I said, too old.”

  “How old do you think I am?”

  “You look around twenty-two.”

  “I’m twenty-five, so you’re not too old for me.” She chuckled and glanced at him. “Your name is unusual. Did your parents give it to you or did you change it?”

  “You like asking questions, Duchess.” He tipped his head out the window and let the air blow through his hair.

  “And you hate answering them.”

  He pulled back into the cab. “My parents named me Jared—my last name is Hughes. Flux is my road name. The brothers gave it to me because I was a rodeo kid turned biker. I traded in my horse for a motorcycle. The first year I prospected I went through a lot of bikes until I found the one that spoke to me.”

  “The name fits your lifestyle. I mean you’re constantly moving from town to town and job to job.” Maggie drummed her fingers on the steering wheel as they waited for the light to change to green. “Do you miss living in Pinewood Springs?”

  “Yeah … sometimes.” Flux pulled at the seatbelt. “And I suck at poker.” He tacked on as an afterthought, hoping she wouldn’t dig too deeply into the wheres and whys of him leaving behind his brothers at the clubhouse.

  “I’ll be sure to add strip poker into our next night together, then.”

  The quip was light and he snorted from the cockiness. He clamped his mouth shut and tried to keep any snide comments to a minimum as they pulled into the parking lot.

  “Seriously? You’re not going to say anything? That was a gimme, Flux.”

  Maggie parked the truck and stuck the keys in her pocket, lifting her hips off the seat. The small movement had him eyeing her up and down from those tits that he’d sucked and kneaded, to the hips that he’d kissed and licked, to her ass that he’d squeezed and bit most of the night before. He held back a groan.

  “Really? You’re not going to say anything now? Are you back to not talking?” Maggie huffed and frowned looking at the front door of the Happy Rooster Diner.

  “Fine. Would it make you feel better, Duchess, if I told you that I regret giving you the choice to pick our spot for lunch?”

  “Why?”

  He shook his head. This woman really has no damn idea. She just doesn’t fuckin’ get it. Maybe he would need to fix that. Without missing a beat, Flux leaned over the console until his lips were at her ear.

  “Because I can’t get the idea of eating your sweet pussy out of my head … seeing all the clever ways I could make you scream my name. It seems like a helluva better use of time than sitting at a diner with slightly cold, soggy food and forced to act all polite.”

  Flux watched as Maggie tensed and shuddered, her lids fluttering as she inhaled. He pulled back and as she glanced up at him, her eyes sparked a flame that burned right down to his crotch. A job well done. He did a mental pat on the back, then placed his index finger under her chin, tipped her head back, and stole a kiss that left her gasping.

  Flux’s other fingers wound through her gorgeous hair, with all of its thick softness he loved, anchoring her to him as he took her mouth the way he’d been thinking of doing since waking up that morning. Part of his hightailing it out of the room had been because he’d watched her lying there like some kind of goddess, and he knew if he hadn’t left, they’d still be fucking up a storm in his bed.

  Flux made sure to put everything he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—say into the kiss as he claimed her mouth with enough ferocity that he was shocked they didn’t both burn up in the truck. Maggie’s small, deft fingers clung to him, little moans leaking from her lips as he teased them with his tongue before thrusting forward and taking what he thought of as his. When he pulled back, she was flushed and panting, her fingers still wrapped up in his black T-shirt.

  “Well, at least we know we do that well,” Maggie spoke through choppy breaths. She opened the cab door and a blast of heat slammed into them. Then, he watched as Maggie strode across the lot, her sexy round ass wiggling with each step.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Flux

  By the time their food had come, Maggie had managed to get a few more details out of Flux. The more he let go, the easier it was to give her the small stuff. Silly bits like his favorite color being green, or the fact that he didn’t watch TV but kept it on in the background at night because the voices helped him fall asleep. Real amateur bullshit. But Maggie ate it up as if he were feeding her filet mignon. It baffled the hell out of him, but it gave him plenty of wiggle room to ask some questions of his own.

  “Why do you hitch a little bit when you take a deep breath?” Flux put another nasty ass bite of overdone strip steak into his mouth and chewed until his jaw hurt.

  He watched as she stilled, her fork hesitating over her salad before she caught herself and shoved the utensil into the dish so loud that the noise seemed like it ricocheted across the diner. Maggie winced, tucking her shoulders in before chewing the bite for too long. Putting the fork on her plate, she looked at the table and wiped away imaginary crumbs before speaking.

  “One of the first professional matches I competed in when I started racing d
idn’t go well.” She left it at that and Flux blinked, completely unsatisfied with the answer.

  “Yeah, I’m gonna need more than that, Duchess.”

  Her eyes narrowed as if she was trying to judge how far he was going to take things. Flux had no intention in letting up until he got the full answer. Double standard? Fuck, yeah. Did he care? Not one fucking bit.

  After probing for the next several minutes, Maggie finally threw back her head in frustration then glared at him. “Enough already.” She took a sip of water. “My first horse took a turn too quickly and missed one of the barrels. I overcorrected with my hands at the reins, which was a stupid newbie mistake. Totally my fault …” She paused, playing with the fork in her salad. “When I pulled my horse too tight, he tripped and floundered, and I went flying into a fence rail. I suffered a bunch of bumps and bruises, and one of my ribs punctured a lung, so the doctor said I’d probably have to do some therapy to get it back to working properly.”

  Maggie wouldn’t look at him. The aversion made him tense as their moods shifted, and he tried to think of what to say since Maggie was obviously upset. I shouldn’t have pushed it.

  “Let me guess, you didn’t do the therapy?”

  “It interfered with my training schedule.” She gave him a brief little smile before her emotions closed up again. “My horse went lame. He had to be put down because we couldn’t guarantee his quality of life, and I didn’t have the money to pay for his upkeep as well as my new horse’s. It fucking sucked.” She went back to brushing away crumbs that weren’t on the table.

  Flux leaned forward. “You feel guilty.”

  Maggie’s gaze snapped to his. “Wouldn’t you, if you took a life like that?”

  He plopped another shitty steak bite into his mouth, giving him an excuse to avoid her scrutinizing look or answering that question. No need for Maggie to know the nitty-gritty of the outlaw lifestyle. She didn’t have to know Flux had killed many times before and it hadn’t been animals. That shit could stay where he’d left it, with the Insurgents, until he needed to pick it back up again.

  “Hey, Maggie, I didn’t think I’d see you here today. What luck for me to see my pretty girl.”

  Flux stiffened as anger pulsed through his veins. He didn’t have to turn around to know it was Chet. Flux looked at Maggie and her face was tight and pale, but her eyes pleaded with him to ignore the fucker, so Flux took a large gulp of Coke and stared straight ahead.

  Then, Chet stood in front of their booth with a cocky smirk plastered on his face, but his brown orbs shot daggers at both of them. “I’ve seen you two around together lately, so our girl here must’ve gotten sick of good dick and gone looking for something easier. And to imagine, she decided to go slumming instead of going with the obvious choice.”

  “Clearly you weren’t the superior choice,” Flux growled before he slowly rose from his seat. “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll apologize to the lady and get the fuck outta here. It’d be a shame if you couldn’t compete for that prize money tonight.”

  Flux took a step forward into Chet’s personal space. To his credit, the fucker didn’t back down, but then Flux didn’t think he had much in the brain department—too many falls on his head in the arena, he supposed.

  “Flux,” Maggie said gently, almost a warning.

  Too fucking late.

  He took another step until he was standing right in front of Chet. Flux watched out of the corner of his eye as the diner’s owner stepped behind the counter and signaled for the waitresses to stay behind as well. Flux wasn’t planning on making the diner a blood bath, he’d do it on the concrete in the alley.

  “Let’s take this outside, and I’ll fuckin’ teach you how to respect a woman.”

  Chet’s face clenched down and Flux watched a hint of uncertainty ripple through his expression. Yeah, Flux was fucking used to that: big boys always wanted to puff their damn chests out until Flux called them on it. The majority of the pussies ended up backing the fuck off, and he figured the cowboy asshole was going to talk some shit before he took off in his pickup, forgoing the alley entirely. Too damn bad—Flux was itching to beat the shit out of him.

  Flux cracked his knuckles then clenched his hands into fists. “You apologizing to the lady, or are we gonna settle this in the alley?”

  Chet stood up straighter and thrust his chest out. “Hell, no. I’m not saying jack shit to your biker bitch. You want my leftovers, you take ’em. But you better believe she’ll be thinking of me when you’re between the sheets.” He wrinkled his nose and fixed his gaze on Maggie. “Trash should be with trash.”

  Flux shot a look at Maggie to check how she was handling everything. She was tense in her seat, hands clasped in her lap as her lower lip trembled.

  “And trash like you needs to be taken the fuck out.” Before Chet could reply, Flux nabbed Chet’s jacket as the guy tried to shake him off with surprise written all over his movie star mug.

  “Get your hands off me,” Chet snarled, batting away at Flux’s grip as he escorted him farther away from Maggie.

  “You need to leave her the fuck alone. What you did to her last night will never happen again. Do you fuckin’ understand that?”

  Chet’s brows popped up and he blinked a few times. It seemed like the asshole didn’t think Maggie would confide in Flux about what he’d pulled. Then, Chet ran his gaze over Flux as if he was sizing him up again. Chet’s fists tightened and he moved from foot to foot with a curl of his lip.

  “You can have the slut,” Chet snarled.

  That was it. Without Flux uttering a word, his fist sank into Chet’s belly, and the cowboy bowled over gasping for breath.

  “No one calls my girl a slut,” Flux said through gritted teeth.

  Flux’s knee came up and slammed into the fucker’s chin.

  Chet cried out in pain.

  “Maggie’s done with you, asswipe. Grow some fuckin’ balls and move on.” Flux delivered the final blow—a karate chop to the back of the jerk’s neck. Chet crumpled down on the checkered linoleum floor. He was out like a light.

  Pappy, the owner, rushed toward them, wiping his hands over and over on a dish rag. “Did you kill him?”

  “Nah, he’s just unconscious. Throw a bucket of cold water on him and he’ll come to.” Flux stalked back to the table, ignoring the stares from the diners. When he reached the booth, he stopped short when he saw the look on Maggie’s face: eyes wide, mouth open, face blanched. She leaned back against the booth like she was ready to bolt out of her seat and flee from him.

  “You can be pissed at me all you want, but there’s no way I was gonna just stand there and let him fuckin’ trash you. The asshole got what he had coming.” Flux picked up his glass and gulped down the rest of the Coke. “Let’s get outta here.”

  Maggie slid out of the booth and he tucked her hand in his and walked over to the cashier. They stepped over the sprawled out cowboy, and Flux noticed the asshole had started to regain consciousness. If Flux had been in the alley with the fucker, the fight might have escalated to where Chet would’ve been lying dead instead of knocked out. Years of studying karate had given Flux the upper hand in most fights, and he knew the exact amount of pressure to use to either kill a man or knock him out with a blow to the neck.

  Flux paid the bill and Maggie didn’t even protest; she was still in a daze. He didn’t want to fight in front of her, but Chet left him no choice. No man acted like that with Flux and didn’t get a few or more punches thrown at him. No one fucking messed with him or the people he cared about.

  When they arrived at the truck, Flux jumped into the passenger’s seat and waited for Maggie to turn on the ignition. She moved sideways to face him, and her brows drew together as her mouth turned grim.

  “What the fuck did you expect me to do back there?”

  “Since when am I your girl?”

  Flux’s stomach hardened and he grimaced.

  Ahh, Fuck!

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN />
  Maggie

  Maggie licked her lips and played with the ends or her hair while she waited for Flux to answer. Given his knack for avoiding questions, she didn’t expect much from him. When she’d first heard him call her “my girl” a funny sensation fluttered in her stomach, and she had to admit the whole territorial thing was hot and endearing.

  Maggie thrummed her fingers against the steering wheel, but Flux stared out the window without any hint of talking any time soon. She watched him wondering how their agreement to a casual sex relationship had turned into a possessive thing. There was no way she’d ever have consented to that. A boatload of nervous stallions bucked and galloped in her belly as she sat still as stone. Do I want more with him? Is he just going to sit there all day without talking. What the hell?

  Maybe it would be best if they both pretended like he’d never said she was his girl and just continue like it was no big deal. Yeah … that sounded like a nice option.

  Maggie cleared her throat. “Maybe we should—”

  “I was just—”

  They each broke out at the same time before Flux bit off a curse and shifted in the seat.

  Maggie switched on the ignition and turned right onto the street. Neither of them said a word the whole drive back to the rodeo parking lot. By the time she’d killed the engine, her shock at seeing Chet again had worn off and terrified anger had taken its place. She cradled her stomach and stared out the windshield. There was no way she could keep letting him get away with following and harassing her every day.

  “You’re thinking about that asshole, aren’t you?” Flux’s gruff voice broke the silence, startling her.

  “Yeah.”