Chapter 1
Chapter One
Shelly
S itting at an intimate table in Esmeralda’s Bar and Restaurant in Lombard, Illinois, Shelly internally groaned at the ache in her cheeks from the fake smile that she still had plastered on her face. The place was gorgeous with its dark, gem-toned tiled floors and walls, along with the scattered plants and vines throughout the room. It would be the perfect place for a fantastic beginning… with anyone else.
The date she was on was excruciatingly boring. He was handsome enough — with his blond hair, brown eyes, and straight features — but Lance White was as plain as his name suggested. He was an accountant, who not only collected stamps but also felt the need to show her pictures of his favorites as well as proof of what each stamp was worth. She was about to fall asleep from lack of stimulating conversation.
Shelly didn’t have anything against nerdy guys. Hell, she didn’t even think the word nerd was a bad thing. If he was an accountant who collected stamps, but also liked cats or dogs, hiking, and was funnier than hell, with a freak flag he kept hidden until his ironed button-up… Shelly Boland would be all about him. It was the lack of anything other than his stamp obsession that was doing him in.
Nodding at whatever stamp he was currently going on about, she picked up her glass and took another sip. She had decided to stick to water since she didn’t even want to give him the impression that it was going anywhere near come in for a nightcap territory. As she set her glass back down, she tried to figure out the fastest way to wrap things up, not knowing how much more she could take.
“Well, I’m going to use the restroom. I’ll be right back, beautiful,” Lance said and winked at her as he rose from his seat, placing his cloth napkin on the table next to his plate.
Letting out a sigh of relief, Shelly gave a nod of acknowledgment.
Thank the gods! A moment of peace!
She watched her date walk across the dining area of the restaurant and down the back hallway that led to the bathrooms. As soon as he was out of sight, she tossed her napkin on the table and reached for her purse, that was sitting on the floor next to her ankle.
Bent over, her face nearly pressed against the crotch of the jeans of the man who had walked up to stand next to her. With her purse in hand, she straightened and looked up to see the identity of the stranger.
A ridiculously rugged and handsome man with dark brown hair that was buzzed short on the sides and too long on the top, light blue eyes, and a neat reddish-brown full beard down to his collarbone was standing there. He had on a pair of dark blue jeans, a black tee, a black leather jacket, and black boots. With a smirk on his face, he took her free hand in his and said, “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
As she stood, slinging the strap of her purse across her body, Shelly let him lead her out of the restaurant, thoughts racing. Leaving with a man she didn’t know was reckless, irresponsible… a bad idea. The leather jacket and biker boots should have been a clue that he was a walking sin, but it didn’t really hit her until she spotted the black, two-wheeled chrome monster they were headed toward .
Okay, Shells. Moment of truth. Are you going to do the irresponsible thing for the first time in your life and climb on the back of that bike with this man? She searched her gut for any alarm bells, but there were none. Throwing caution to the wind, she shrugged and grinned. Yes, yes, I am.
“Glad you’re wearing jeans,” the stranger said as he stopped next to the motorcycle and lifted the helmet from the seat.
As he helped her put it on her head, she asked, “What’s your name?”
He smiled as he fastened the strap under her chin. “Robert Adler, but most people call me Crash.”
Her eyes went wide, and she stared at him, hoping the name wasn’t because he was a horrible driver.
He chuckled. “I earned the nickname when I was twelve. I’ve learned a thing or two since then.”
Shelly let out a sigh of relief. “Okay. I’m Lucille Boland, but I hate my name, so I go by Shelly, which is a short version of my middle name, Michelle, which is my grandma’s name, and I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
Crash gave her one of those sexy crooked smiles men in books give before women melt all over them, and it was working, as he lifted a hand and ran a finger along her jaw. “I like it when you ramble, Lucky. Let’s go get some drinks, then you can do it some more.”
Lucky? Oh shit, I’m in trouble .
Crash
After walking his bike back into a spot in the back parking lot of O’Byrne’s, an Irish pub a few blocks from his hotel, Crash climbed off and held out a hand to the beauty on the back of his bike. Watching her climb off, bending and twisting all of those curves, had him picturing things that she would probably not find appropriate, but he was picturing them all the same.
His inner tiger was prowling and purring, demanding he bring her back to their room and dominate her, please her, claim her. Crash knew from the second he heard her voice coming from behind him as he picked at his meal that she was his mate. It took only one word in her sweet southern drawl to have the hair on his arms standing on end and his heart pounding harder in his chest. He’d found her. He hadn’t even been looking, but his mate had shown up right behind him.
Once she was off the bike, he helped her remove the helmet as he thought about the moment he turned around in the restaurant and got the first look at his future. His jeans had become so damn tight he’d needed to stand and adjust himself. His woman was fucking gorgeous. Crash had wanted to fist his hands in that long, dark hair, stare into those green eyes, and fuck her as she wrapped those thick thighs around his hips and press those ample tits against his bare chest. Fuck .
“You look like you want to eat me.”
Crash chuckled as he raised a brow and met her gaze. He set the helmet on the seat and took her hand. “Later,” he replied before he turned and headed for the pub. “First, let’s get to know each other better.”
He heard the unsteady breath she released and knew his message hit home. Before the night was through, Crash had every intention of tasting every inch of her, with her permission, of course. His tiger liked that thought as it purred inside of him.
“Have you ever been here?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m not from around here.”
“Oh? Where are ya from?”
“Northern Michigan. The upper peninsula. You? I know you didn’t get that drawl from Illinois.”
“South Carolina,” she replied as she stepped aside and let him pull open the back door to the pub for her.
As she entered the back hall of the establishment where the bathrooms and such were located, he asked, “Are you just here visiting?”
She shook her head, sending her hair swinging back and forth. “I needed a change, so I’m looking for a place to settle. Figured I’d try the Chicago area. I have family here in Lombard, so it was my first stop. Once I find a place, I intend to have the rest of my stuff sent up.”
Crash breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t settled there. That meant he had a chance to convince her that the place she was meant to be was with him in the U.P. of Michigan. Even if she had found a home, he would have made it his mission to convince her, but it would have been more difficult. With her still searching for her place in the world, he felt more confident in his chances.
Rock music from the 70s and 80s was playing in the background from the pub’s sound system as Crash wrapped an arm around Lucky’s shoulders and led her down the hallway to the main room of the establishment. It felt good to hold her like that, and his tiger agreed, but he fought the demand the animal gave to mate and focused on the sensation of having her close instead. She was the perfect height for it, and when she slid her arm around against his lower back, he couldn’t stop the grin from growing on his face.
“This is more my vibe,” Lucky said as she looked around at the wood-paneled walls, dark green faux-leather booths, tables, neon beer signs, televisions showing ball games, dart boards, and pool tables. There were people scattered around the place, but it was full to the brim. The mood was laid-back, but there was an underlying feel to the air that a party could break out at any moment and everyone in the place would have the time of their life, or there could be an all-out brawl if someone looked at another person wrong. It could go either way.
“Where have you been all of my life?” Crash looked down at her and waited for her to meet his gaze. When she finally did, with a smile twinkling in her mossy green eyes, he couldn’t help himself. He lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers.
Crash had intended for the kiss to be a brief one, but when she lifted up on her toes and increased the pressure, he wasn’t going to deny her what she was asking for. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, backed them into the hallway, and pressed her against the wall. Finally having all her curves pressed up against him was heaven. Tilting his head to the side a bit, he nipped at her lower lip and groaned when she opened and let him inside. Swiping his tongue against hers, he wasn’t surprised at all when his tiger started roaring and demanding their mating.
When a shifter found their mate and got a taste, the urge to complete the mating was sent into overdrive. Tasting Lucky wiped away any shot Crash had at attempting to take things slow. His tiger would have none of it. Of course, he wouldn’t try to mate her without her consent or full knowledge of what she was getting herself into, but that one swipe of a tongue sealed the deal that she was about to learn a whole hell of a lot in a very short amount of time. It would take everything in him, but he would do his best to hold off and not download about shifters on her during their first date. The next day was another matter.
Not wanting to end the embrace at all, Crash forced himself to pull back a few inches and looked into her eyes. “Fuck,” he breathed.
“Yeah,” she agreed and nodded slowly.
“You’re staying with me tonight.”
She nodded again.
“Drinks and conversation first.”
More nodding.
He swallowed hard. “I want to, but if I kiss you again, we aren’t stepping back into the barroom.”
A smile grew on her face. “Then, I guess you better let go of me, biker boy, or I’m not gonna give you a choice.”
Crash groaned as he slowly pulled his arms from her. His cock was throbbing his jeans, protesting his withdrawal. As he watched her turn and head into the room, he sent up a prayer of thanks to the gods that they decided this glorious woman was perfect for him.