5. Kevlar
Kevlar
Kid would give him hell for this. But what choice did Kevlar have? How else were they going to get this chick home? Did Kid really think some Uber driver wouldn’t take advantage of her in that state? This was the only choice they had.
Though Kid would argue she wasn’t their problem. He’d be right. She wasn’t directly, but this was their new turf. They had to stand up and set expectations.
When she ran into Kevlar’s arms, they’d been forced to intervene. His response to her didn’t mean they had to do anything other than run off the Bloody Scorpion. This was above and beyond what was necessary. Putting this woman on the back of Kevlar’s bike was fucked up.
That seat wasn’t for any random lady. The position was solely reserved for an old lady—something Kevlar didn’t have. He didn’t know this woman. So, she couldn’t be his. He wasn’t against them. His mother had been fine enough as one, but there was always a lot of drama with women.
He’d been trusted with establishing a new chapter of the Royal Bastards. His head had to be squarely in the game. Especially since he didn’t have to only contend with the local riffraff, but the Bloody Scorpions as well.
His situation would not be easy. He couldn’t afford any distractions.
He didn’t care how curvy they were or how her swollen, pouty lips begged to be taken.
The fact that her soft body melted against him as he turned out of the parking lot was inconsequential.
She was an excellent backpack—almost like she was made for the position.
None of that mattered.
He couldn’t focus on how amazing she felt. She was a complete stranger. A woman in trouble. They were a dime a dozen. He’d helped her out. So what? They wouldn’t even see each other after this. Tonight was a onetime thing.
Absentmindedly, as they rode, Kevlar ran his hand back and forth over the smooth flesh of her thick thigh with his left hand. The sensation of her legs around him, squeezing now and then, had given him a slight chubby.
Having a woman on the back of his bike was a first for him, but he shouldn’t get too comfortable.
This was a one-and-done situation. There was already enough on his plate.
Woman drama was the last thing he needed.
Especially one who had a tendency to go to biker bars and get groped by a Bloody Scorpion.
A flash of rage flared in his chest. His eye twitched. That douche canoe had touched her. Kevlar gritted his teeth, wanting to spit the image out of his head. That cock knocker had no business putting his hands on—he cut that line of thinking right off.
Apparently, she’d had a lovers’ spat or a bad date. This was none of his business. Kevlar was a Good Samaritan for once. He had to leave it there. When he dropped her off, that would be the end of their interaction.
He didn’t even know her name. Hadn’t told her his either.
Sure, she read the patch on his leather vest, but that didn’t count.
No one would name their kid that. This was just an act of kindness from an anonymous man who had a tendency to pluck the eyes out of people for looking at him the wrong way. Totally normal.
Far too soon, he made a left into the parking lot of an apartment complex.
Kevlar scanned the numbers on the doors until he spotted the one he sought. A spot wasn’t available directly in front of it, so he pulled in a few spaces down. Kid continued on a bit, turned around, and paused behind him—waiting.
Time had come to say goodbye. Kevlar’s back would be chillier when she left. Nothing that he wasn’t accustomed to. He’d get over it. There were bigger fish to fry than a cold rear.
He patted her thigh and glanced over his shoulder. “Home sweet home.”
Slowly, she slid her arms from around him and scooted off the bike. Her dismount wasn’t the most graceful dismount, but she didn’t fall on her face. Why did he find her movements adorable?
Standing on the sidewalk, she hugged herself to keep her ample bosom covered. She failed. She had far too much in the way of tits to effectively hide them. The bra did more to cover her than her arms. Cute that she tried, though.
Something about her attempt at modesty was endearing. He’d rarely seen such behavior in a woman who hung around one-percenters.
Hesitating, she glanced left and right. Worry creased her beautiful features.
In the floodlights of the lot, he got a better view of her lovely round face, tainted by smeared makeup.
How would she appear fully done up? She was gorgeous in distress; he couldn’t begin to imagine how she’d look properly gussied.
She was a full-figured woman, with wide hips and thick thighs.
She had the kind of body that jean booty shorts, fishnets, and leather were made for.
Openly ogling her, he cleared his throat and ran his hand down his beard.
Fucking her in his mind was doing nothing to deflate the chubby straining in his jeans.
Cautiously, she approached him.
He glanced toward his brother and back at her as she placed a hand on his thigh and leaned toward him.
“What if he comes over?” she whispered.
That wasn’t his problem. “Does he know where you live?”
She nodded.
Irrationally, rage bubbled in his veins. Had she ridden on the back of that dingus’s bike, too? What the fuck kind of game was she playing?
Kevlar shifted in his seat.
“Carrie, my friend, brought him and his friend to a party I had a few weeks ago,” she explained.
So… maybe she hadn’t been on the Scorpion’s bike.
“I just…” She glanced toward Kid and then back at him. “Am I supposed to call the cops if he comes by? I feel like that will cause more trouble.”
Logically, yes. A sane woman who was nearly assaulted would report it to the police. Though Kevlar wasn’t in the business of recommending such things.
Her gaze fell to the patch on his vest. She seemed to focus on one in particular.
He didn’t need to look down. He knew his cut inside and out. Each adornment he’d stitched on himself. She fixated on his one percent diamond. Was she aware what it meant? Of course she was. She’d been out with a Bloody Scorpion.
“I know what he is,” she said as she shifted her stance nervously. She lifted her eyes and met his stare. “And what you are.”
She spoke as if she voiced a secret.
Amused, he expressed his curiosity. “What am I?”
He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be insulted or not. Whatever she assumed, it obviously wasn’t good. Did she think Kevlar was the same as that Scorpion fuck?
“A biker,” she murmured.
If he wasn’t so focused on her lips, he would’ve missed it. Her words came out far too low.
“The bad kind.”
“Bad?” He scoffed and smirked. Funny that she called the guy who saved her from getting her ass handed to her by a dickwad and gave her a lift home bad. Shouldn’t that have made him a Good Samaritan? Apparently not. What did he know about good?
“That’s a funny way of saying thank you,” he teased.
Chewing on her bottom lip, she lowered her gaze away from his.
She squirmed in the cutest manner possible. His dick twitched.
“I don’t think you’re…” Again, she stopped herself mid-sentence.
“You really believe he’s going to show up?” Kevlar asked before she could dig her hole any deeper.
She nodded.
Kevlar glanced toward his brother and considered his options. He could go back to a hotel with Kid, or he could shack up with this pretty little thing for the night.
If there ever was a no-brainer, this situation was it.
He smiled and curled his finger under her chin. “You want me to stick around?”
Her eyes widened, offering him an unobstructed view of the most beautiful crystal blues he’d ever seen.
Damn.
What he wouldn’t give to look down into those while they filled with tears as she choked on his cock.
Consensually, of course. He wasn’t a Bloody Scorpion fuckhead.
Panic tinted her cheeks pink.
“If you want me to hang around. I will, but I’m not sitting out here on my bike,” he said.
Her throat bobbed with a swallow.
“Ask me to stay, Kitten, and I will.” He didn’t want to assume.
She had to be the one to make the request. Kevlar had misread situations before, but he had a pretty good feeling she looked for him to protect her.
For some reason, he was eager to do so.
“W-will you come in?” she asked in the tiniest mouselike voice he’d ever heard.
Biting back a groan and doing his best to shove his illicit thoughts out of his brain, he grinned wide. “Good girl.”
Without thinking, he took hold of her face and pressed a soft peck to her forehead.
She gasped, and her cheeks turned bright red. That was probably too far but worth her reaction.
He chuckled as she backed up, giving him space to dismount from his bike.
“Let me talk to my brother.” He gestured toward Kid.
“Sure.” She dipped her chin and tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. “I’ll get the door.”
He winked and shifted his focus to his brother.
The expression on Kid’s face was one of impatience. They’d been on the road far too long. They had a lot of work to do if they were going to establish a foothold in Oklahoma again. Dogs were already sniffing around his stomping grounds. They didn’t have time for this bullshit.
But Kevlar was going to take the brief break anyway. What was one night? In reality, only a few hours. They could spare them. He and his brother could use the rest before doing anything important.
He sauntered over to Kid and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m gonna keep a lookout for the Bloody Scorpion.”
Kid arched a skeptical brow.
“I’ll meet up with you at the shop in the morning,” Kevlar said.
Checking in with Remi was on their list of things to do. Tomorrow seemed like the perfect time. That way, they could get the lay of the land ahead of time.
Remi wasn’t directly involved with shit, but she was pretty damn adjacent to it. She kept her ear to the ground and was aware of more than she should. If only she had a dick, he’d patch her in a heartbeat.
Kid lowered his head and idly tapped his finger against the fuel gauge of his bike. “You sure this is a good idea?”
Nope, but Kevlar would do it anyway.
“This is our territory,” he said on a sigh. “We can’t let them play in our backyard.”
His brother shifted his gaze to the road. Kevlar could practically see the wheels turning as Kid considered the situation.
Eventually, he looked back toward Kevlar and smiled. Kid slapped Kevlar playfully on the arm. “Trust ya, Pres.”