Chapter 2
Chapter two
Shane
“What did I tell you the last time you two came in here acting like assholes?” I squared up with Tony and pointed at Pete, his fathead brother who was whining and rubbing the hand I had stomped.
“That if we disrespected the peace of Margie’s bar again, you’d make sure we were never able to buy a beer in this county,” Tony grumbled while eyeing his useless sibling.
“He fucking robbed me!” Pete lobbed an accusation at the bearded biker he had struck with a bottle.
“Go blubber about it at home,” I cut in, not wanting to hear the excuses. “I watched the two of you play. It was a fair game.”
“Fair? He—.”
Tony snatched his brother by the back of his shirt, shutting him up instantly with a shake. “Let’s go, Pete.”
I ran my tongue along the inside of my lower lip as I watched the two brothers leave. I would make sure it was the last time they ever darkened Margie’s doors.
“Hey, man, listen,” the bearded biker in question interjected, “I didn’t mean to start nothing.” He reached for the woman with him, tucking her in to his side. “Me and my old lady was on our way to Surfside. We’d heard Margie’s was a good place for a rest.”
“It is, and you’re fine,” I assured him.
Margie’s was known for being a neutral zone, a place where anyone could stop and have a drink regardless of their colors or the patches on their cuts.
Hobbyists, one-percenters and outlaws, nomads and exiles, even the Sunday church bike rider crowd was welcome to mingle here.
“Been a long time since I’ve been ambushed,” the man remarked with a dry laugh. He took another pile of napkins from his woman and smashed them against the gash on the back of his head.
“That might need some stitches,” I cautioned, “but if you’re not wanting to go that route, there’s a first aid kid behind the bar.” I walked over and gestured for Zane to grab it for me. Once I had it in hand, I held it out to the woman. “Ask Margie if you need help.”
The bartender in question cackled. “Hell, I’ve patched up much worse than a little scratch like that.”
I knew for a fact that she had. The scar on my upper left arm from the bullet hole she had treated was a stark reminder. It had been the first time I had been shot, only a few days after I had turned twenty. Seemed like a lifetime ago now.
As the room settled down, I glanced toward the now empty bar stool where I had stowed that pretty looker. Now where the hell did she get off to?
“Outside,” Margie said, obviously reading my mind. “Saw her run out of here like a little rabbit as soon as the path was clear.”
“Smart girl,” I remarked, torn between relief that she had gotten out of here without taking a wayward punch and irritation that I had missed my chance to get her name.
A woman like that didn’t often cross my path. High class. Beautiful. Soft. Sweet.
Hoping that she might still be outside talking to her strange group of friends, I worked my way through the crowd and stepped out into the warm summer night. The humidity was high tonight, but there was a light breeze, a cool wind that would feel so good on the ride home.
That wind also carried the most incredible smell, something that made my brain get fuzzy and my heart pound.
I followed the scent, turning to the right, and there she was. Glaring at her phone in one hand and gripping the strap of her purse in the other.
Fuck, she was just too perfect. All curves and lush sweetness with dark wavy hair and brown eyes. She had a mouth that begged to be kissed, a lower lip that needed to be sucked and nibbled.
She’d probably mace me if I got within five feet of her again, especially after the way I had picked her up without asking.
Fuck it. I’ll take my chances.
Ready to shoot my shot, I sauntered over. “You get left behind by your Bible study group?”
“What?” She whirled toward me, her dark eyes narrowed with irritation.
“Your friends left?” I gestured toward the parking lot.
Her shoulders deflated. “Yeah. I came with my cousin, but I was supposed to go home with a neighbor. I think they forgot or just assumed I got in the other car.” She frowned at her phone. “And no one is answering my messages or calls.”
“That’s bad luck.” But good luck for me.
“I keep trying to get a ride share, but the apps won’t recognize the address or something.”
I laughed harsher than intended, drawing a frustrated look from her. “This area is off-limits. The ride share apps have some kind of geo-fence around it. Too much crime, I guess.”
“I guess,” she echoed, glancing nervously around the parking lot.
Certain this was my one chance, I asked, “You want a ride home?”
She gulped and looked me over, her anxious gaze moving from the tips of my dirty boots to my eyes. She actually bit her lip as she thought it over. Finally, she said, “I live kinda far from here.”
“Define kinda far,” I said, ready to drive her to Texarkana and back if it meant I would get to spend five more minutes in her presence.
“Back on the island. East End,” she said. “Off Broadway on Avenue K.”
“Well, darlin’, you’re in luck because I’m on Avenue L.” I rattled off my address.
Her eyes widened. “We’re practically neighbors!”
“Imagine that,” I said, honestly taken aback. What were the odds that this woman would walk into this bar and need my help not once but twice in the same night?
“Well, I mean, if you don’t mind?”
“I don’t mind.” I pointed out my bike at the end of the first row. “Wait there. I’ve got to get you a helmet.”
She gripped her purse strap a bit tighter. “A motorcycle?”
“Yeah?” What did she think? I came here in a Camry?
“But...I’ve never ridden a motorcycle,” she explained nervously.
Something about being the first man to get her on a bike made my blood run hot. I tried really hard not to think about another type of ride I would like to give her. Instead, I promised, “You’ll be safe with me.”
She bit her lip again and nodded. “Okay.”
“Wait here.” I pointed out the spot. “I’ll be right back.”
I headed back into the bar, grabbed the extra helmet I kept in the office and waved at Margie who grinned knowingly. I ignored her riotous laugh as I left, certain she would be the first to harass me for information about my lady friend tomorrow.
Outside, I found her standing next to my bike, her fingertips moving over the leather seat as if petting a wild animal.
I looked over her outfit. Jeans, black boots, a wine-colored top with short sleeves.
It was simple and modest but somehow effortlessly sexy, especially with those big gold hoops dangling from her earlobes.
“What’s your name, doll?” I beckoned her to step closer with a flick of my fingers.
“Melissa.” She didn’t hesitate. She moved right where I wanted her. She glanced from hands to my face. “Yours?”
“Shane.” I gave her my actual name.
Her eyebrows rose, and she daringly traced the discolored patch on my cut. “Who is Slinger?”
I grunted, not wanting to get into all that right now. “It’s me.” I swept the long strands of loose dark hair behind her ears, relishing the sight of her hair falling around my thick silver rings. “But not to you.”
She didn’t say anything as I placed the helmet on her head and carefully fastened it under her chin. I fought the urge to stroke her silky skin when I was finished.
“What’s an exile?” She pointed to the patch under my original Calaveras MC emblem.
“You always this curious?” I enjoyed the way she wasn’t afraid to ask questions.
“I’m a librarian,” she said matter-of-factly. “Finding answers is kind of my thing.”
“A librarian?” I repeated, thinking this night could not get any weirder. “I guess that wasn’t your Bible study group then.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “We’re a book club.”
“A book club that goes to outlaw biker bars?”
“Just this one.” She glanced back at Margie’s and grimaced. “I think we’ve cured ourselves of that curiosity.”
I suspected there was a good story there, but I would wait to ask her. I needed a reason to keep talking to her once I got her home. That seemed as good a topic as any.
Wanting to keep her safe, I gave her a quick rundown of the bike and how to ride safely behind me. She paid close attention, asked questions, and then nodded dutifully. “I think I’ve got it.”
I slung my leg over my bike and started it, letting it roar to life. I gave a little jerk of my head, indicating she should hop on, but she frowned at me. “What about your helmet, Shane?”
“Don’t have one.”
She gave me that disappointed teacher look—and God help me, it made my dick throb. Sent a rolling burn of heat right through my belly and into my groin.
She sighed dramatically and approached from my left as I had instructed.
“Well, I guess that’s okay this time, but you really should get a helmet.
” Very gently, she dragged her rose-colored nails along my scalp, gliding right through my short hair.
“You’ve got a nice head. Be a shame to crack it like an egg. ”
Holy fuck. I suppressed the shiver that raced down my spine. One mostly innocent touch from this sweet, little bookworm, and I was about to cum in my goddamn jeans.
She seemed completely oblivious to the effect she had on me as she gracefully climbed onto the back of my bike. She moved effortlessly, like she was made to sit right there, her thighs cradling my hips and her small hands gripping onto my waist.
Unable to help myself, I covered her hands with mine. Her skin was so damn soft under my callused palms. I wanted to feel those hands on other parts of my body so badly I was ready to beg.
“Hold on tight, darlin’.” That was the only warning I gave her before lifting the kickstand, letting off the clutch, and engaging the throttle.
We rolled out of the parking lot, and she managed to keep her balance.
She held on tighter, sitting stiffly behind me as I navigated the turn onto the main road.
I kept the speed slow, only increasing as she started to loosen up behind me.
The fingers that had been gripping my shirt in fear relaxed.
They splayed wider on my waist, moving under the thick leather of my vest until they rested lower and right above the top of my jeans.
Her thighs stopped squeezing so hard, and she shifted forward ever so slightly, moving her head so she could see a little more of the road.
Deciding she was ready for the full ride experience, I opened up the throttle, shifting gears until we were flying down the highway. She started to shake behind me. For a split-second, I thought she was panicking.
No, she was laughing.
She was having the time of her life. She was giddy, just absolutely losing it in the most honest and raw way I had ever seen.
Shit, she’s trouble.
She’s dangerous.
I could already feel my cold heart thawing as she giggled behind me. She was making me feel things I hadn’t since I was a teenager, lovesick over Karina Gutierrez who thought I was lower than shit on the bottom of her dainty white tennis shoes.
I felt hope.
And that was the worst thing possible for a man like me.
Melissa clutched onto me and placed her cheek against my back. The sensation of her innocent, gentle touch rocked me right to the core.
Oh, I’m fucked.