Cowboy, Take Me (Asphalt Gods’ MC #5)

Halley

I never belonged.

That’s a lie, I loved to tell myself.

The truth. There was a time, I loved the Sons of Satan MC.

“Star, you’re only fifteen... Of course, you can get a tattoo.” Snakebite tried not to let the corners of his mouth rise, but beneath his black eyeliner, his deep brown eyes smiled.

He just turned eighteen last Saturday—a swoon worthy eighteen, muscular and strong but sleek and agile like a deer. I’d only just turned fifteen in the summer, not that it mattered. I’d known Snakebite practically my whole life.

“I don’t want a tattoo,” I told him and meant it.

“Then why are you coming along?”

“I don’t think you should do it.” I climbed on the back of his chopper, placing my hands on his thin waist, before he took the invitation back.

He called out, questioning me, “Why are you so concerned about my tongue?”

“None of your beeswax,” I quipped but followed it up with a nervous giggle.

Why was I so concerned? He hadn’t chosen it.

He was doing it all to please his father.

If there was one member of the Sons of Satan who I didn’t love it was Serpentine.

When the man I’d thought of as my father, Diablo, died, Serpentine took his place as the club’s President and my guardian.

The fact made Snakebite my brother, in more than the way we were all brothers and sisters by our colors.

He was my brother as in, eww, you can’t kiss him, that’s your brother. At least, I was expected to think of him as such.

While usually good at doing what’s expected, I never thought of him as my brother.

“I can tell when you’re lying, Star… Your voice, it gives you a way… I think you don’t want me to go because you like my tongue the way it is.”

“Why would I like your tongue?” My voice trembled, and I was afraid he’d guess my other thoughts.

I knew nothing about his tongue or any tongues for that matter.

I’d never been kissed. He knew that. He’d teased me about it over and over.

And that’s when it happened. Snakebite turned around, his hand, tipped in black nails, curved around my waist. His face, half hidden by his long dark hair, came at me.

I held my breath. Our noses touched first. I felt his lip ring next.

Soft and salty, his lips fumbled with mine.

My heart skipped. Our tongues moved in unison.

Frustratingly brief and fabulous all the same, Snakebite kissed me. I felt like I’d run a mile. His embrace vanished as the roar and rumble of his bike propelled us forward. I hung on as if my life depended on him, never dreaming it would.

Fall in California was just as fleeting as our kiss.

I savored the slightly crisper air and the glimpses of our black oaks’ color changing tricks.

Julian, a little historic mountain town, only an hour away from San Diego’s beaches, saw its fair share of autumn’s foliage and even snow.

You couldn’t travel down these windy roads without getting a whiff of the town’s famous apple pies.

Soon, I was lost in the smell of the leather on Snakebite’s back. We’d left town behind. I’d thought the tattoo parlor was in town. When we passed the trailhead to Three Sister’s Waterfall, I noticed we were headed back to the compound.

Elation hit me.

Snakebite listened to me. Despite his given name, I couldn’t imagine him with the split, snakelike tongue that defined the men in this club.

There had always been something gentle about him.

Something underneath—to love. Never mind, I had some crazy dream we’d forgo him becoming a patched member of this club altogether and run off.

Otherwise, we’d never be allowed to be together.

His motorcycle stopped in front of the large mobile home we shared with his stepmother and father. No one was home. No one would be home until dinner time. No one would think it was odd we were both home in the middle of the day.

We were alone.

Taking my hand, Snakebite led me through the sparse but cozy living room, past the outdated kitchen and down the narrow hallway, to my room, the room across from his.

After all, my room was clean. I wasn’t sure if he could even walk through his pigsty.

We stood in my doorway, me inside and him, still in the hall.

I stared down at the leather and beads wrapped around his wrist. Our sweaty hands were glued together, like he was afraid to let go, but more afraid to step across the threshold and come in.

He never had. It’d been an unspoken rule.

He didn’t come into my room, and I didn’t dare enter his.

Stepbrother or not, Serpentine and LuAnn were not na?ve about boundaries for boys and girls.

I searched his face, ignoring the stubble.

He never shaved but couldn’t really grow a full beard, either.

Beholding his lips wouldn’t do. I licked my own, focusing on the thick dark lashes that lined his hooded eyes.

They drifted past me to my bed. A peach and white floral bedspread neatly covered it.

Crocheted and handmade pillows were stacked up the headboard.

The big star one with my name in the middle being the most important, the first thing Diablo had given me after he rescued me from certain death.

When I laid my head on that pillow, I felt I belonged here, like I was truly a devil’s daughter.

Now, I only wanted to belong to Snakebite.

I tugged on his hand pulling him into my room.

Having crossed the threshold, he froze, unsure. Afraid, if only for a moment.

“I won’t tell,” I promised him, knowing his father was an evil man and cruelest to him.

Snakebite stiffened. “I don’t care if you do.”

Now, he was the liar.

His hand caressed my cheek, tilting my face toward his. Then it slipped into my hair. I’d bleached it blonde and ever since, he said he hated it, but he’d been lying about that, too.

Snakebite and I were like night and day.

Covered in head to toe black, his pale skin shined.

Black leather and silver anything, chains, necklaces, studs—his wardrobe of choice.

He wore more makeup than me with his dark eyeliner, lips and nails.

The room surrounding us was a child’s room, but it still reflected my tastes for bright and soft colors.

My new blonde hair went great with my naturally tan complexion.

Not an inch of leather on me, I wore simply ripped jeans and a pink tank top, not a speck of jewelry.

My body had changed. Fully developed, I’d been blessed in the boob department. Snakebite had noticed that as well. Across the dinner table I’d caught him staring at them more than once. Part of me wanted him to explore them now and part of me didn’t know if I’d ever let him.

As one hand gripped the back of my head, his other hand settled awkwardly on the small of my back, drawing me into him. My body lined up with his. Would he kiss me again? Longer this time. My cheeks warmed wondering. Tingles of anticipation ran down to my panties.

Snakebite did bend down to find my lips.

Slowly this time, he nibbled before parting them.

Surprising me, his tongue slithered all the way in.

His mouth engulfed mine, like he would devour me.

He stood so tall, I felt his erection against my navel—another surprise.

As much as I loved the kissing, I wasn’t sure I was ready for the hardness grinding against me.

Thankfully, he retreated.

Too bad it was only to lead me straight to my bed. We sat with his arm around me.

“Star, I want you to be my main girl. But we’ll have to keep this secret.”

“I know.” I played with a frayed hole on my jeans.

Snakebite took my hand and placed it over his leather lap. His dick twitched under my hand. Hell, I didn’t know that was possible. I’d just only had my first kiss. Saying I was appalled would be an understatement. Did he think I was easy? Main girl? Did that mean he had other girls?

Ripping myself away, I shouted, “Get out.”

Snakebite bolted.

He didn’t come back home that night. That was fine. Still shaken, I thought of his words. Main girl.

He didn’t come around the next night.

I cried myself to sleep.

The night after that he wasn’t at the dinner table for the third night in a row.

LuAnn liked to come and brush my hair before I went to bed, as if I were still a little girl. We’d talk about her day mostly, since I had school online and there was nothing exciting going on in my life. No boyfriend. No fun.

“If it’s tourist season, why can’t we shoot them?”

She worked at the Wolf Rescue Center. Julian being overrun with visitors in the fall was the only reason anyone had jobs around here.

“Maybe just let them get too close… I can’t wait until I’m sixteen and can get a job.”

I’d love to work with the wolves. The sanctuary and the San Diego Zoo were my two favorite places.

“You have jobs, plenty of them.”

“I’m tired of babysitting on weekends and odd jobs, in general.”

I picked up as much as I could in our biker community, like doing dishes for Ms. Jinks when she’d gotten shot in her arm or feeding B. Bub’s bearded dragon when he went on a mandatory. All these bad ass bikers had some furry or feather baby they’d give their life for—super sweet.

“Believe me, when you get a job, good or bad, it’s just a bunch of odd jobs rolled into one. Don’t be in such a hurry to grow up.” She changed our casual subject. “You know I think of you as family, as a daughter, no matter what, right?”

I didn’t know what to say. It’s not that I didn’t love her to pieces. It’s just, her demeanor had shifted just enough to make me nervous.

After an awkward pause, she added, “Snakebite, too.”

My stomach cramped. What was she trying to say? Did she know about me and Snakebite?

LuAnn wasn’t his mother either. She couldn’t have kids on account of her thyroid problems but had raised him from a baby when his mom died and she married Serpentine.