Chapter 5
MAREN
When my shift finally ended, I clocked out with a soft yawn. As I grabbed my purse from my locker, all I could think about was getting home, kicking off my shoes, and collapsing into bed.
I slung the strap over my shoulder and headed toward the front door, already fishing in my bag for my car keys. I pushed open the swinging door that led into the dining room, and my breath caught as soon as I looked up and saw Kevlar standing by the entrance.
He’d always left shortly before the end of my shift. So even though he’d told that guy he was going to see me home, I figured that was just to get him to back off, and he’d be gone when I came back out. Discovering I was wrong was enough to perk me back up again.
I stopped a few steps short of him, butterflies swarming in my belly. “You stayed.”
He nodded and held out his hand. “Come with me.”
It didn’t sound like a question, but I answered anyway. “O-okay.”
My feet moved toward him on instinct, something inside me responding to that quiet command without hesitation. His fingers wrapped around my wrist, and he tugged me toward the door.
When we stepped outside, I fumbled my keys in my other hand. “What about my car?”
“Give those to me, baby,” He tugged the keys from my fingers. “I’ll make sure it’s taken care of.”
I didn’t even think about arguing, just trusted him to do exactly as he said and let him guide me down the sidewalk with his hand still wrapped around my wrist. He walked closer to the street, like he was deliberately positioning himself between me and everything else.
We stopped beside a black motorcycle, and I froze. “Oh. Um. I’ve never been on one of these.”
I didn’t understand why heat flared in his eyes as he reached for the helmet hanging from the handlebars. “Let’s get this on you.”
His fingers brushed my jaw as he buckled the strap, and my breath hitched.
“There,” he murmured.
He tucked my purse in the saddlebag, then swung a leg over the motorcycle. When he was settled onto the seat, he held out a hand. “Climb on behind me.”
My pulse raced as I stepped closer. He steadied me when I wobbled a little, the bike shifting beneath me. His grip didn’t waver until I found the right balance.
“Feet on the pegs,” he instructed. “It’ll keep your legs away from the exhaust pipes.”
I nodded and set my feet where he pointed. “Okay, I think I’m good.”
“Not yet.”
Before I could ask what he meant, his hand reached back and pressed against my hip to pull me closer until my chest was flush with his back. Then he took my wrist and moved my hand around his chest.
“Hold on with both arms.”
I wrapped myself around him, enjoying it so much that fear never even crossed my mind when the engine roared to life and we pulled away from the curb.
The ride didn’t take long, and I clung to Kevlar the entire way. When he finally slowed and pulled up to a tall electric fence surrounding a huge property, I blinked in surprise.
I hadn’t even realized I’d driven past the Hounds of Hellfire compound before.
It was well hidden despite its size. The majority of people in Riverstone didn’t know where it was, and their reputation kept locals from asking or trying to find it.
Partly out of fear, but mostly, nobody wanted to piss them off and lose their protection.
Everyone knew the only people who went through their gates were invited, and I never imagined I’d be driven in on the back of a member’s motorcycle.
A man wearing a leather vest with the same logo as Kevlar’s stepped out of the guard shack, lifted a hand in greeting, and pressed a button to let us through, all without needing Kevlar to say a word.
We parked in front of a large building, and he shut down the bike.
After he put the kickstand down, he gestured for me to get off—holding out his hand to keep me steady—so I scooted back and swung my leg over.
Then he did the same, but in a much smoother motion because his knees weren’t wobbly like mine.
I stared up at him while he unbuckled the helmet, sliding it off with a gentleness that made my breath catch. He hung it back on the handlebars and took my purse out of the saddlebag to hand it to me. Wrapping his fingers around my wrist again, he guided me toward the entrance.
I’d always wondered what the inside of an MC clubhouse looked like, but walking in beside Kevlar overshadowed every bit of that curiosity.
He pushed open the door and led me inside without loosening his grip.
Considering it was just after two in the morning, I was surprised to see a couple of guys in the lounge area, both sitting on stools at the long bar stretched along a wall.
Their gazes flicked from me to Kevlar and back again before they lifted their chins in greeting.
Instead of stopping to sit on one of the black leather couches, he walked me past everything to a staircase. We didn’t stop until we got to the top and walked down a hallway. Then he paused at a door and unlocked it.
I followed him inside, and he nudged the door shut behind us. I looked around while he shrugged off his leather vest to hang it over the arm of a chair in the corner of the room. When he sat and began to unlace his boots, I realized we were in his room.
Kevlar didn’t say anything before he kicked them off with a thud and reached for the hem of his shirt, dragging it over his head in one smooth motion.
My breath caught.
His back was all muscle and dark tattoos. And when he turned, the view got even better.
“I-I don’t have to sleep in here. I mean…I can take another room, if that’s easier. I don’t want to intrude or anything.”
Leaving was the last thing I wanted to do, so I blamed his hotness for why my brain was muddled enough for me to blurt out that offer. Luckily, Kevlar didn’t take me up on it.
Instead, he shook his head and murmured, “You sleep here. With me.”
His voice was low, but it didn’t sound like there was room for argument. Not that I was going to anyway. I just whispered, “If you think that’s best.”
“I do.”
I lingered near the foot of the bed, suddenly hyperaware of the fact that I smelled like grease and coffee. “Is it okay if I take a shower?”
Kevlar stepped past me, opened a door on the right side of the room, and flicked on the light. “Go ahead.”
I hovered in the doorway for a beat before clearing my throat. “Do you have something I can wear to bed?”
He opened a dresser drawer, reached inside, pulled out a black T-shirt, and held it out to me. “This’ll do.”
My fingers brushed his when I took it, and a little spark zipped up my arm. “Thanks, Kevlar.”
His midnight-blue gaze softened. “Call me Lucas.”
I knew enough about the Hounds to understand they didn’t ask people to use their real name lightly. This was a big deal, but I managed not to squeal like a little kid. “Okay, Lucas.”
His fists clenched at his sides, the muscles in his arms tightening. With a slight lift of his chin, he muttered, “Go take your shower.”
I stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind me, leaning against the solid surface while I caught my breath. I was in Lucas’s room. About to sleep in his bed. In his shirt. Next to him. If this were a dream, I didn’t want to wake up.
I didn’t want to waste a second standing there overthinking everything, so I set my purse on the floor and turned on the shower.
After stripping out of my clothes, I stepped under the stream of water.
My smile was hopeless when I opened his bottle of body wash, and the steamy stall filled with his scent.
I washed slowly, letting the hot water melt away the tension from my shift. But it didn’t lessen the fluttery awareness in my stomach. If anything, it only grew.
When I finally stepped out, I wrapped myself in a towel and reached for his shirt. I pulled it over my head, and it fell halfway down my thighs, dwarfing me completely. And I loved it.
After smoothing the fabric over my hips, I tugged my panties back on. Then I took a slow breath and opened the bathroom door, all too aware that Lucas was waiting on the other side.
When I stepped out, Lucas’s gaze dragged over me slowly, heating with something I didn’t have a name for yet. The shirt hung off me like a dress, but the way he stared made me feel like it was see-through.
“Get in bed.” I nodded and moved around to the far side, climbing beneath the covers. Then he added, “Go to sleep.”
Sleep felt impossible with the way he was looking at me, but I whispered, “Okay.”
While I sank deeper under the blanket, Lucas disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. I lay there listening to the faint sounds of the shower, every small noise making me more aware that he’d be next to me in bed soon.
By the time the water turned off, I could barely catch my breath. I tugged the sheet up to my chest and pretended to be relaxed, even though my heart was beating loud enough that I was sure he’d hear it when he came out.
I squeezed my eyes shut just before the door opened. The mattress dipped beside me a moment later, and I inhaled slowly, trying to calm myself. But the scent of his body wash was thick in the air, making things worse.
I shifted once. Then again. My awareness of him made it impossible to settle.
I rolled my hips a little, trying to get comfortable.
Then another small shift.
Lucas’s voice cut through the dark. “If you keep wiggling like that, I’m gonna stop pretending I can sleep.”
I froze, my skin feeling like it was on fire. For him.