Chapter Three Samantha #2
When we got to the front door, a burly tattooed guy with multiple piercings guarded the entrance. “Can I help you?”
Without missing a beat, Gavin said, “Yeah, we’re here for the party.”
Tattoo Guy smirked skeptically at Gavin. “Is that right?”
“It sure as hell is. Just ask Bishop.”
“You Marley?” When Gavin nodded in acknowledgment, Tat-
too Guy stepped aside. “Enjoy yourself.”
“Thanks,” Gavin said.
As we walked in the door, I somewhat expected everyone to turn and stare at us— confirmation of the true outsiders we were.
But no one really looked our way, and if they did, we were greeted with a nod of acknowledgment.
Across the room, a house band had music pumping out of the speakers, and couples danced on a makeshift dance floor.
Others hung around the bar, sipping on beers and mixed drinks.
Gavin started to take a step forward, but I froze. Each time my gaze fell on a biker, he became my father’s murderer standing in front of me. My heartbeat accelerated wildly in my chest, and I fought to breathe. Ducking my head, I pinched my eyes shut and started counting to ten in my mind.
“Sam, are you okay?” Gavin whispered in my ear. The fact that he called me by my first name meant he was truly worried.
“Bathroom. I need a bathroom,” I gasped. When he started to lead me across the room, I jerked back and shook my head. “No. I do this on my own. You go on. I’ll catch up to you.”
Gavin’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah. Just give me ten to get my shit together.”
He looked as though he wanted to argue with me, so I pulled away from him and started across the floor.
At the food table, I spotted the vice president’s wife, Alexandra, bouncing a dark- haired baby boy on her hip.
I knew all about her from the files I had read, and just like with the president’s wife, I had been surprised that someone like her, a teacher from a respected, middle- class family, would have taken up with a biker.
“Excuse me. Where’s the bathroom?” I asked.
When her dark eyes met mine, a look of confusion came over her face, which wasn’t too surprising. I was sure she knew all the old ladies, girlfriends, and sweet butts of the club. The expression was quickly replaced by a smile.
“Just down the hall from the kitchen,” she replied, motioning to the right.
“Thank you.”
Without a word to her or the other women, I made a beeline down the hall.
I burst through the door that signified it was for women by a pair of giant carved boobs on it.
It was packed full of scantily dressed women fighting for mirror time as they worked on their hair and makeup.
I bypassed them and went into one of the stalls.
Once I was safely closed inside, I placed my palms flat against the graffiti- colored walls. I tucked my head to my chest and once again began taking deep, cleansing breaths in and out. In my head, I kept repeating the mantra I had adopted many years ago.
I am stronger than my fear. I am stronger than my fear. I am stronger than my fear.
After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, the overwhelming panic began to dissipate. I started slowly feeling like myself again— my strong, courageous kick- ass self. Pulling my head up, I rolled my shoulders to ease the tension the anxiety had brought on.
With my courage renewed, I focused on the task ahead of me.
Throwing open the stall door, I made my way out of the bathroom.
After entering the main room, I didn’t even falter when a hulking biker with gleaming silver piercings and arms covered in multicolored tattoos bumped into me. “Sorry, sugar,” he drawled.
I gave him my best smile before craning my neck to search for Gavin. I found him sitting alone at a table, nursing a beer. When I started to approach the table, he jerked his gaze to mine as if he had sensed me approaching.
After I took a seat next to him, he asked, “You okay?”
“Never better.” Knocking his hand away, I took his beer and downed the rest in one foamy gulp. When Gavin’s eyebrows shot up questioningly, I shook my head. “Look, it was exactly as I said. I just needed a minute to get my shit together. You have nothing to worry about.”
He grinned at my forceful tone. “Never said I was worried.”
“You didn’t have to. I could tell by your face and the fact that you called me Sam.”
Gavin took his beer back from me. “Ready?”
“More than ready. What happened while I was gone?”
“Bishop got me a beer on the house and told me to have a seat. I thought he was coming over to talk, but then he got called away.”
My eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Some backdoor meeting?”
With a chuckle, Gavin replied, “More like some hot piece of ass with her tits hanging out of her top asked him to dance.”
I rolled my eyes in a huff. “Men. Don’t you ever think with anything besides your dicks?”
“Nope,” Gavin replied with a wink.
Turning away from Gavin, I focused my gaze on the dance floor. It only took a second to spot Bishop through the crowd of other bikers. Gavin had adequately described the woman Bishop was with.
At the moment, they were bumping and grinding to where they might as well have been having sex on the floor.
Out of nowhere a flush of warmth spread over me the same way Bishop’s hands ran over themwoman’s body.
It seemed to get even hotter when I watched the expert way his hips pumped against hers.
Leaning forward in my chair, I continued to study my target.
The pictures the bureau had shown me didn’t quite do Bishop justice.
Although it should have been the last thing on my mind, I couldn’t help thinking he was far more good- looking in person.
He certainly appeared more built— his muscles more defined, his chest broader, and his thighs thicker.
His body exuded power and strength— two things that came in handy for him as a boxer and the sergeant at arms.
I couldn’t help snorting at how I felt like an airhead sorority girl with the lustful thoughts running through my mind.
“He’s completely fuckable, isn’t he?” Gavin asked, in a low voice.
Oh hell yes. Very, very fuckable, I thought as I fought the urge to squirm in my seat.
Needing to hide my illicit thoughts from Gavin, I said, “Just what the hell are you talking about?”
Gavin waggled his eyebrows. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were just looking at him.”
“I was assessing the target, smartass.”
“Bullshit. Your panties were getting wet as you thought about what it would be like if you were that woman.”
What woman wouldn’t? “You’re out of your fucking mind,” I countered.
Leaning in to whisper in my ear, Gavin said, “I may bat for the other team, but I still know when a woman is hot for a man.”
Rolling my eyes, I shoved him away. In a low voice, I growled, “He is the target in our case, not to mention the enemy.”
“Yeah, and hate sex can be hot as hell.”
“You are impossible.”
Gavin grinned wickedly at me. “Even though it’s frowned upon, I see nothing wrong with getting a good fuck or two out of him to gain information.”
“I would slap the hell out of you right now if we weren’t supposed to look like a loving couple.”
After bestowing a kiss on my cheek, Gavin winked at me. “There’s nothing more I love in life than to irritate the hell out of you.”
“Asshole,” I replied, although I smiled in spite of myself.
Nodding at Bishop, Gavin asked, “When he finishes humping that chick, you want me to get the ball rolling and introduce you?”
When I cocked my eyebrows at him, he held up a hand. “I meant the ball rolling for the case, not for you to actually get busy with him. Jeez, Vargas, I can be serious when I have to be.”
“Yeah, and part of you really enjoyed the double meaning in all
that.”
Gavin grinned. “Maybe.” The song started to wind down. “So, do we make a move now?”
My gaze once again returned to Bishop. “No. Not yet.”
“You got something in mind?” Gavin questioned.
I finally tore my gaze from Bishop to look at Gavin. “I need to unsettle him a bit before I make my move.”
“Sounds like a good plan.”
“I wouldn’t exactly call it a plan.” Looking back at Bishop, I smiled. “It’s more like a game. One that I know just how to play to win.”
With a wink, Gavin said, “You know your game, Vargas. Go roll the dice.”