by Jessica Ames
I lean over and turn the lamp off on the nightstand. Trying to sleep with her heat next to me is going to be impossible, but I turn on my side too, determined to keep my promise not to touch her.
Nine
Carla
I wake with a warm body draped over me, and God, it feels good. Then I see a flash of dark hair and realize who it is.
Rooster.
I freeze, unsure what the hell to do. He’s wrapped around me like a vine, his heat searing my skin where it touches. I don’t want to admit how much I like this, even if I do, because nothing is ever happening between me and a biker. They are off limits.
So, why is my heart galloping in my chest and why is my breath catching as I try to draw air in?
Because you like him.
That thought scares me half to death, so I shove him off me. His eyes fly open and he peers around alert but ruffled from sleep.
“You said no touching,” I hiss at him.
Realizing there’s no immediate danger, the fire in his eyes dies back and he stares with hooded eyes at me.
“I didn’t.”
“I woke up with you practically cuddling me.”
This earns me a grin that I shouldn’t like, but has my stomach dipping.
“I can’t help what I do in my sleep, Kitten.
I throw the covers back and climb out of bed. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to share a bed—inappropriate touching!”
His eyebrows draw together, but I can see from the lift of his lips he finds this amusing.
“You really are a prude, aren’t you?”
His words make my anger flare to life. “I’m not. I’m just not interested in you, so don’t get any ideas, buddy.”
Rooster shakes his head, chuckling. “I think the lady protests too much.”
I snag my bag and storm into the bathroom. Really, I don’t know what I’m so annoyed about. He’s right—he can’t be held accountable for what he did in his sleep—but I’m pissed I have all these unwanted feelings coming to light. I don’t want to like a biker, and that puts me in a tetchy mood the entire day.
As we hit the road again, I sulk silently while sitting behind him. The desert landscape becomes greener the further we ride until we’re completely surrounded by it, but the temperature is no less savage. We cross the Oklahoma border and stop in Edmond four hours after leaving Amarillo. It’s late afternoon and the heat is unbearable. At least when the bike was moving, we were keeping cooler, but stopping means the sun is beating down on me and my tee is starting to stick to my body. I’m getting a tan too. Full days in the sun means my arms are starting to brown. So is Rooster, his skin turning darker than mine.
We head into the cooler shade of a deli and grill restaurant. Inside is modern, clean and the smell of the food is divine. My stomach starts rumbling as soon as we’re seated.
I sit across from him, snagging the menu, just so I don’t have to talk or look at him. I’m still pissed, which I’m sure I’m exuding when he stops looking at the menu and asks me outright.
“Are you still upset about this morning?” The disbelief in his voice isn’t that unsurprising. I’m acting like a brat, but the fact he brought unwanted feelings out of me is driving me batshit.
“I’m not upset,” I grumble.
“You pissed because I cuddled you and you actually liked it?”
Rage fills my vision. I lean across the table and hiss in his face. “Let’s get one thing straight. I am not interested in you and never will I be interested in you, so whatever dirty thoughts you have rolling around that pervert brain of yours need to stop. Last night was about necessity. I would never have willingly shared a bed with you.”
He leans back and grins, his dimple coming out. “I think the problem is you do like me, and for some reason you just don’t want to admit it.”
“I do not.”
“Kitten, you can’t lie to me.”
“You are the most infuriating man on the planet.”
“So you’ve told me. I’ve noticed that stick up your ass is getting bigger.” He leans forward over the table. “Need me to pull it out?”
I throw my hands up in the air and resist the urge to scream.
“I’m done.”
“Done?”
“With this road trip. I’d rather take my chances in Temecula than ride another mile with you.”
It’s childish, but I push up from the table, snag my bag and storm out of the restaurant. I’m serious about walking back to California. He’s such an asshole. I hate him right now. I mostly hate that what he’s saying has a ring of truth to it. I do want him, and I probably do have a stick up my ass, but I don’t need him to tell me about it.
“Kitten, wait up!”
His voice sounds from behind me, but I don’t stop walking. I just shift my bag on my shoulder and keep my head down.
“Carla, stop.” The cracked command in his voice makes my feet halt and I spin back to him.
“I would, but I’m too busy trying to remove the stick from my ass!”
He groans. “Carla—”
“No, jerk, we’re done. I’m going back to Temecula.”
“It ain’t safe.”
“It’s safer than being with you. Another day with you and I’m going to end up burying you on the side of the road!” I yell into his face. He just grins, which infuriates me even more. “What are you smirking about?”
“I was just thinking how cute you are when you’re mad.”
“See how cute I am when I’m ripping your balls off.”
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have said what I did, but being infuriated works both ways, babe. You drive me nuts too.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, irritation rolling through me at his words.
His finger comes under my chin, forcing my gaze to meet his. “This situation is shit. I know this, but it is what it is. We can’t change it. The threat to the club is very real and very dangerous, which means the threat to you is just as dire. We can’t, as a club, leave a member’s daughter out there unprotected. Ain’t ever going to happen, Kitten. I know this life isn’t one you want, but as Gunner’s kid, it’s the one you’ve got. Can’t change who your pop is, can’t change that you’re Savage Riders’ property either.”
When I open my mouth to say I’m no one’s property, his finger covers my mouth.
“Rules are different in our world. You’ve been out in the civilian one so long, you’ve forgotten how shit works. You’re ours because your pop is ours. You’ll always be family.”
He’s right, though I hate that he is.
“So, you coming back into the restaurant and having something to eat with me?”
I pause for so long, not sure what my answer is going to be. Then grudgingly, I nod. “Fine.”
“Feel free to retract the claws a little, Kitten,” he jokes and I fire him a glare.
“We’re not in joking territory yet, buddy.”
“No, but you will be.”
Together, we walk into the restaurant and sit back at the table. He watches me carefully for a moment before he peers down at his menu.
“You know, I’m not a bad guy.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“I pay my taxes on time, I donate to charity. I’ve had my share of rescue dogs over the years.”
“You have a dog?” The thought of him with a pet is almost comical to me.
“Had. He was put to sleep a few months back and I haven’t had the will to get another one yet.”
My heart contracts for him. It must have been so painful. I don’t have pets, my lifestyle never enabled it, but I love animals.
“That must have been tough.”
He stares at me a beat then sighs. “I feel like we got off on the wrong foot.”
“You didn’t exactly put your best foot forward.”
“We’re both tetchy from traveling. I think we need to just take a moment and chill out.”
He’s probably right. Tr
aveling all day and sleeping in motels is not doing much for my sanity.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, meaning it. I’ve been a brat all day.
“You’re tired. I get it. I’m tired too.”
“Yeah, and you have this way of infuriating me.”
“That cuts both ways, Kitten.”
“I don’t mean to.”
“We got off on the wrong foot. Let’s start again as friends, okay?”
I nod. “Friends.” The word feels wrong on my tongue. What I feel for Rooster is not friendly, not even a little, and that’s what scares me, because I’m falling for a biker and I shouldn’t be—not if I want to keep what’s left of my sanity.
Ten
Carla
We get back on the road after our argument and ride four more hours to our next stop, Springfield, a town an hour from the Missouri border. We’ve crossed that many borders now I’m starting to lose track, but I’m enjoying seeing all the different landscapes as we ride. Missouri is so green compared to Arizona and New Mexico and the air smells cooler. The desert landscape felt like breathing in hell sometimes.
Springfield has an open feel with lots of red brick buildings lining the wide streets. Despite being late evening, the sun, which has yet to go down, is still warm. I’m grateful we’re doing this in the summer, not the winter. I’m not sure it would be as pleasant.
We eat dinner in a small family owned restaurant we find on the main high street and then check into a hotel for the evening. Rooster might be used to riding, but I can tell this journey is taking its toll on him, and he’s done it once already, coming from New Jersey to Temecula. Hitting the road again so soon is definitely taking its toll on him.
He dumps our bags by the foot of the bed and flops onto the one nearest as soon as I shut the door behind us, boots and all.
“Maybe we should stop for a few hours tomorrow, so you can rest,” I tell him, genuinely worried if he’s okay. He looks exhausted.
Since we’ve been on the road, I’ve seen a different side to him—one I like. As a protector, a provider, and a genuinely good man. I didn’t think he had that in him, but knowing he loves his mother, that he takes care of his sisters and that he wants to take care of me has me feeling things I shouldn’t be. I can’t help but be drawn to this man who is quickly becoming part of my world.
“Ain’t safe to stop.” He waves me off, though he doesn’t move from his position on the bed.
“It’s not safe to ride either when you’re so tired.”
He opens his eyes and comes up on his elbows to look at me. “Kitten, you actually sound worried about me.”
The grin doesn’t annoy me as much as it previously would have. I don’t read into why that is, but I shake my head at him.
“I’m also on the back of that bike. You’re risking me by being tired.”
He sits up and stares at me. “I would never put you at risk. Ever.”
The vehemence in his tone has my spine snapping straight. He sounds so sincere, so angry that I’d suggest otherwise.
“I know,” I say quietly, and deep down I do know that.
He gets off the bed and strides toward me, his eyes blazing fire. I step backward as my spine hits the wall. His hand goes to the side of my head, pressing against the plaster.
“I would never put you at risk,” he repeats. “I hope you know that.”
My heart is racing, galloping a hundred miles per hour in my chest, and my breath is coming out in ragged pants. This close up, I can see the flecks in his eyes, can see the way his pupils have dilated, and I can see the hunger.
He wants me, and the thing is, I want him too.
His eyes crawl my face and all the air freezes in my lungs as he dips his head and his mouth pauses millimeters from mine.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he mutters, but he doesn’t stop.
Our breath mingles for a moment, his heat searing me before he closes that final gap and takes what he wants.
His mouth plunders mine, his lips brushing back and forth as he devours me. The taste of the meal we just ate lingers on his tongue as he slips through my defenses and into my mouth. I part to give him entry, wanting everything he has to offer, needing to give him everything I have to offer.
Rooster’s fingers tangle in my hair before he pulls my head back to deepen the kiss, and I want this and more. Between my legs is tingling with anticipation, with desire and I rub my thighs together to create some friction, hoping to ease the sensations building there.
Then he pulls back, panting. “That was a mistake.”
I deflate like a balloon, pain prickling at my chest, and shove him back, so I can duck under his arms and get away from him. Humiliation burns like fire through me.
“Then why did you?”
“Because I can’t stop myself, Kitten.” He sounds tortured as he says it. “I want you. I want you so fucking much, but you’re Gunner’s kid. He’ll cut my balls off if I touch you.”
I roll my eyes. “My dad isn’t that terrifying.”
His mouth pulls into a grin. “Never said I was scared, just said that’s what would happen.” Seriousness clouds his face now. “I wish things could go further between us, Carla. You have no idea how much I wish it, but your father is my president. You’re his daughter. Ain’t right.”
And as always it’s my father, it’s the club standing between me and something I want.
“You want me?” I ask.
“That’s never been in question, Kitten.”
“Difference between you and me, Rooster, is I’d fight for what I wanted.”
I move into the bathroom and shut the door behind me before I sag against it. The tingling between my legs has evaporated, but my heart is still racing.
I peer up at the bathroom ceiling and let out a deep breath as my fingers trail over my swollen lips. The kiss had been perfect. It was everything I dreamed it would be and more. He kissed like a pro, made my knees weak, my heart flutter. How can this be all we’ll ever have? It’s not right.
There’s chemistry between us, there has been from the moment he came into the bar in Temecula, but his fear is holding him back and I don’t have time to hold his hand through whatever loyalty issues he has.
I step in the shower and quickly wash myself and my hair before I move out of the cubicle. I make quick work of drying myself and pull on my sleep shorts and tee.
When I step back into the room, Rooster is sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped between his knees. The look on his face nearly breaks me. He looks so dejected, sadness in his eyes.
“Kitten…”
“Don’t.”
“I want you. That’s never been in question.”
“But you can’t.” My words taste sour.
He pushes up from the bed and steps toward me. I resist the urge to step back, to keep that space between us.
I tip my chin up, so I can meet his gaze.
“What are you doing to me?” he questions, his voice sounding wrecked.
“I’m not doing anything,” I whisper back, the butterflies in my stomach beating their wings frantically.
“You’re making me want things I can’t have, Carla. Things I should never be thinking about.”
“Then you shouldn’t have flirted with me in the first place and put ideas in my head.”
He chuckles, his forehead touching mine. “I want you.”
“Then have me,” I challenge and I expect him to take the bait, but he just kisses my forehead.
“Get some rest, Kitten. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
I watch as he walks into the bathroom, unsure what to say or do.
Eleven
Rooster
Carla is acting like the kiss never happened the next morning. I don’t know whether to be grateful or pissed off that I didn’t leave her with a lasting impression. Maybe I need to up my game.
It’s thoughts like that which got you into this mess in the first place, asshole.
/> Kissing her was amazing. I don’t want to call it a mistake because nothing about it felt wrong, but it is. Going there with my prez’s daughter is a whole new low, even by my standards. It could risk my cut, maybe my life, but hell, I can’t stop thinking about what I want to do to her. I want her in my bed, I want her in my life, and not just as some passing fling. The more time I spend with her, the more I want her. She’s a captivating woman and I’m completely enthralled by her, even if I shouldn’t be.
Neither of us are hungry, so we get straight on the road and head for St Louis. The city is about three and a half hours away, maybe four, depending on traffic. I want to hit Indianapolis tonight, but that might be pushing it. We’ll see how far we get. Carla was right when she said I’m tired. I’m feeling this journey, although I’m enjoying being on my bike, especially with her behind me. I can feel her thighs hugging mine, and her arms wrapped around my stomach is making my thoughts wander places they shouldn’t be.
I try to push that shit out of my head. I don’t need to be thinking about anything like this with her sitting behind me, especially not after I shut down any chance we might have had. I know I humiliated her. Hell, I humiliated myself, but that urge to have her, to claim her is an overwhelming itch I just can’t scratch. I want her. If I’m being honest with myself, I’ve wanted her from the moment we left Temecula.
As we come into St Louis, the traffic starts to get busier and I have to lane split to keep moving. The city has a bustling feel to it and the bright blue sky is an inviting sight as we move toward the downtown area. We shouldn’t stop now, not if we want to make it to Indianapolis, but I need a break. My stomach is grumbling too, so I guess Carla must be hungry.
I park up the bike and wait for her to climb off it before I kick down the stand and get off too. I secure our helmets to the lock on the bike and then hand her her bag while I sling mine over my shoulder.