Chapter 2
ROWAN
Spider's room was small and tidy. I was surprised he lived here. Maybe the nomad patch on his vest explained it all. He was a man on the road and this was all he needed.
Did that mean he had women all over the country he could stop in and see?
Had I gone from one problem to another?
Was this a problem? I looked him up and down as he rummaged through his clothes, searching for something, and decided there was no sane reason to label him as one.
There were plenty of reasons I should have, but that was for another time.
Not now. Not while I was pleasantly distracted by a hard butt, powerful thighs, and calves that stretched the denim at his ankles.
"Here it is," he said, standing and turning, holding up a T-shirt that would be huge on me.
I looked at the tee like it was some sort of prize.
It was a soft, creamy-white vintage Harley shirt. I recognized it from an old Daytona rally. Thin cotton, with a retro motorcycle rolling past emerald green palm trees under a massive, burning orange sun.
He handed it to me and said I could wear it after my shower if I wanted one.
When our fingers touched, I was sure the material sparked. Or maybe it was my skin.
"Is this special?" I asked.
"The colors match your eyes and hair," he said, like I should have already noticed that.
Not only that, I thought, as my face flushed red. What type of biker thinks of stuff like that?
"I'd love to take a shower," I said. "Thanks."
He showed me the tiny bathroom and I looked around his room once more, noticing there was only one bed.
"I'll sleep on the floor," he said.
He didn't miss a thing. I didn't know what to say, so I stepped into the bathroom with him right behind me.
I stopped and took in a deep breath, trying to calm my nerves. I couldn't read this guy. He was a mess of contradictions.
"Fresh towels there," he said, pointing. "New bar of soap there. And you'll have to use your finger for a toothbrush, I guess."
I chuckled.
As I turned to thank him, he was already facing the door, and seconds later, when he closed it behind him, I cradled my face in my hands and sighed.
I stripped off my clothes, turned the water on, waited until it was hot enough, then let it wash over me.
When I opened my eyes, I realized there was enough room in here for two.
Spider
I stood outside the door feeling like a fucking pervert, listening to the water run and seeing pictures in my mind of her naked in my shower, with the door open, facing me and smiling.
Then facing away from me, bending over to pick up the soap I'd just heard hit the tiles.
The water stopped, and I rushed for the single chair, grabbed a copy of Outlaw Biker I'd never gotten around to reading, and pretended the words hadn't suddenly become impossible to focus on.
The door opened and she stepped out wearing my shirt, wet hair clinging to her neck, a bundle of clothes under her arm.
By the looks of it, the bundle included every fucking item she'd been wearing.
Everything.
I did my best to keep my eyes on her face and knew right away I needed a shower next.
A really fucking cold one.
I grabbed a pair of shorts, boxers, and another shirt for myself, then raced into the bathroom before she could see the tent starting to rise.
The water was still warm when I turned it on after ripping off my clothes and standing under it with a raging hard-on.
I grabbed my cock and started stroking. It wouldn't take long, but how could I keep quiet? Would she be standing outside the door now, listening like I had been?
I doubted it. But maybe she'd be checking to see if I really was a pervert who would fuck his fist because he had a woman in his room.
God, did I ever want to. But it would have to wait.
My balls were halfway to blue when I turned the handle to cold and froze my nuts.
I stood under the water and let it run over my head and down my back.
It was so fucking freezing, I was sure I gasped.
Fuck. I'd gasped.
Did she hear me gasp?
Would she think I really was beating my meat?
Panic did a better job than the cold water. I turned up the heat and looked down at my now-flaccid cock, behaving like a gentleman.
After I dried off and pulled on my boxers, shorts, and shirt, I opened the door and…
Jesus fucking Christ.
She was sitting on the bed, legs crossed like she was doing yoga, drying her hair. She looked gorgeous.
She had a tattoo on her upper right arm. Flowers and a face. Silver bands on all of her fingers.
"Feel good?" she asked.
"Yeah. The best thing about getting home."
"Nothing like a warm shower."
I smiled. She was totally oblivious to what she was doing to me. Just chilling on my bed, and I knew she didn't know it. She didn't seem the type.
Her hair had fallen over one side, covering that breast. But the other side… her nipple was pressed against the material like it was willing me to look.
That wasn't what had me thinking about a second cold shower, though.
"I guess you want to talk," she said, lifting her arms as she wrapped her hair up in a towel-bun.
How the fuck was I supposed to talk like this?
"Nice tats," I finally said, but my voice came out thick.
She looked down at her chest and I quickly added, "I love the flowers and face."
She pulled the shirt away from her chest. "Oh. Yeah. Thanks."
She'd heard me wrong. But she'd heard me right too. Her tits looked fucking delicious, and they were still covered.
Still?
Did I think I had a chance?
You fucking bet I did.
Rowan
The shower did the trick. I felt clean and somewhat relaxed. I didn’t know how long I could stay here, or whether I could stay at all, once Spider heard what I had to say. But for now, I needed some space inside my own head.
It was past midnight and I didn't feel like sleeping. Not least with wet hair that would take forever to dry. I didn't suppose he'd have a hair dryer. And if he did, who was it for? Him? Maybe. He did have beautiful long hair. Or someone else.
His wife was an ex. I got that. But a guy like him? He could have anyone.
Like me, for instance.
What was I thinking? I was here with more baggage than any sane man would be willing to carry.
I probably had a price on my head. My place was probably already trashed. They'd have even more info on me.
My heart started to race and panic rose in my chest.
I did what I always did when that happened. Listened to what my mom used to say after she and Dad had a fight. Focused on my breathing. I settled into my pose, legs crossed, and back straight.
I couldn't close my eyes with my hands on my knees, fingers to thumbs, and have Spider walk out to find me like that. He'd think I was a real nut job. So I just did what I could and focused on drying my hair.
By the time he opened the bathroom door, I was feeling calmer. When he spoke, even more so.
I knew we needed to talk. I'd decided I would just show him my phone and let him tell me what happened next. It was in my bundle of clothes on the bed behind me.
I was thankful for his oversized shirt because stripping off my clothes had felt like stripping away the night. The nightmare of it. If I could, I would burn them. And my red fucking jacket too, if I still had it.
But he seemed a little distracted.
Or maybe it was just me. Because when he complimented my tats, I heard tits. And I thought he knew.
How fucking embarrassing.
Spider
Where the fuck was I going to look? The chair was directly across from the bed. I had to sit there and face her.
Her nipples were less obvious now that she'd pulled the shirt away from them. But that fucking pose.
And why was she going commando? Was she sending me a signal? Because it was working like a charm.
Should I say something? Maybe ask her to sit in the chair while we talked. That would seem strange.
Maybe I should just put on my sunglasses and tell her I have photophobia or whatever the fuck Bono has that makes him need sunglasses at night.
That way I could stare at the glimpse of dark red hair between her thighs.
I didn't honestly think it was intentional. I could count my lucky stars and table the talk till tomorrow. Let her get into bed while I hit the floor.
But that thought was dispelled when she reached behind her for her clothes.
I squinted. I only had a second. But holy fuck. Holy fucking fuck.
I jerked my gaze back to her face as she turned, and then they went wide when she held her phone toward me and said, "Swipe."
Shit. This meant trouble.
She'd taken a few shots and they were really clear. Evidence like this would put the pope away.
"What do you think?" she asked.
I couldn't say she was fucked. But she was in a world of shit because they knew she had the photos. They saw the flash. They'd want this dealt with the only way they knew how. The photos destroyed and her gone. For good.
The president of the Road Devils, no less.
"You're safe here. But we'll need to take this to Dax in the morning."
She looked like she was about to tear up, so I leaned forward and placed my hands gently on her shoulders. "Everything's going to be alright."
"You're not just saying that?"
Well... yeah. But I also knew the Skulls would deal with this if I asked.
And I intended to ask. For sure.
She told me everything. What was in her jacket pockets. Where she lived. Why she was working in that dive of a bar in the first place. She'd lost her courier job in a round of layoffs and all she could find was that place.
She told me she thought the bar between herself and the bikers would keep her safe. She'd call an Uber each night, check to see if anyone followed, and never told anyone her real name or address.
She was careful. So why the photos, I wondered.
"I had my phone out to text a friend, and when I saw what was happening I acted on impulse."
And there was my answer. Acting on impulse often led to trouble. Remember that, Spider.
I decided to change the subject. Lighten the mood. "So… Mom and Dad?"
"Mom. My father left a long time ago. They didn't get along and he was never missed." She paused. "You?"
She didn't want to talk about it, so I matched her energy. "My father was aa asshole.”
She seemed a little surprised at my term of endearment for him. But till there was a stronger word for life's biggest asshole, that would do.
"Mom's an angel. Most people thought of him as a snake."
"Spider and Snake," she said.
"Exactly."
"Oh no… I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it like that."
"He used to play old music all the time. Mostly drove me mad. But one day he played this song… had the words I don't like spiders and snakes. So I started calling myself Spider just to piss him off."
"So not a road name, then?"
"Before I could ride a bike," I said. "I hated him. The snake. So I called myself Spider so he could hate me back. I never wanted the fucker to like me, because he didn't love my mom."
She was listening with sad eyes.
"It's all good. I'm a nice spider. You know… the big fluffy kind."
She shuddered. "Fuck. Don't say that. I wouldn't be able to get that thought out of my mind. I hate spiders."
I grinned.
"No, no, no. Not you. I didn't mean it like that."
"It's okay. All good."
I hoped I was the spider she'd let sink his fangs into that pretty smooth skin.
I'd have to spin a good web first.
"You can't sleep on the floor," she said.
"I'm good," I told her.
"I'd feel bad. We can share."
Fuck. How was I going to share with her? What about my morning wood? Actually, it wouldn't just be morning wood. It would be never-not-wood. I'd be hard all night. I'd have to sleep flat on my back all night like I was lying in a fucking coffin. Rolling over would spear the mattress.
I hadn't realized she was waiting for an answer while my mind swirled.
"I promise to keep to my side and face away," she added.
I knew I was making a huge fucking mistake. But that's what horny guys did, right?
I was staring at the ceiling like a dog that knows it's in trouble.
Every time I gave Rowan the side-eye as she lay beside me, my mind wandered to places it shouldn't.
She was like cocaine. One sniff and you're addicted. She'd tossed and turned for a while before settling, and in that time her long hair had drifted across my chest, a few strands on my face. I did what any addict would do. I breathed her in.
She hadn't used my shampoo, which I was thankful for now. I didn't really want to sniff myself.
You dirty dog, Spider.
If I could lick my own balls, I think I would have, because they were fucking aching.
She'd pushed up closer to me and I didn't know where to put my arm. I finally decided tucking it under my head was the least uncomfortable position for my road-worn body.
My other arm was across my stomach, and just as I finally started to drift off, I felt her tiny hand reach over, grab my arm, and pull it across herself.
I had to roll with it. And there I was… spooning her while she continued to sleep with soft breaths.
My arm was across hers and dangerously close to her left tit and that pebble under my shirt.
She hadn't even woken. She must have subconsciously sought more shelter. And hey… I was the man.
The last thought I had before I drifted into the dark: Please, God. Let me wake first... or soft. I honestly didn't care which.
Rowan
He was snoring softly when I woke in a panic, wondering where the hell I was. Then it all came flooding back.
But I didn't dwell on that. Because I had a big hand cupping my breast and something really big and really hard pressed against my cheeks.
It was still dark. We hadn't gotten to bed till late, so I couldn't say how long we'd been in that position.
But I wasn't about to move.
Well. Maybe just a little.
I wiggled my ass just enough to check whether that thing was real or if he'd brought a gun to bed with us.
I really didn't know what to do. Whether I should move before he woke.
Maybe.
But surely he'd sleep a little while longer.
It was all about his sleep, I lied to myself.
I closed my eyes and pretended he was mine and I was his.
And then he stirred. Ever so carefully, he lifted his arm off me and moved back slowly… like he didn't want me to know.
But I did. I fucking did. So I told myself he'd been dreaming about me.
Spider
Well, thank you, God. You send me an angel, and now she'll think I'm the devil.
I leaned over to see whether she was still sleeping.
She giggled.
Fuck. She fucking giggled. Caught.
"I can explain—" I started.
"No need," she said. "I slept through the whole thing."
That made me laugh.
"It happens every morning," I told her.
She rolled over and pouted. "I'm disappointed," she said, one second before I kissed her.
She opened her mouth and I slid my tongue in.
She bit it.