Chapter 4
NOELLE
I did it.
Elation soared through my veins and put a smile on my face.
I resisted the urge to dance my way across the room, but I did bend down and whisper into my wire. “I’m in.”
Pricks.
My phone remained silent, and a skitter of unease trailed down my spine.
What if I’d been in danger?
Would anyone have tried to help, or would they let me flounder and fail?
Bishop straightened to his full height.
He’d stayed in the corner–guarding the stairs leading to Rafe’s office–after giving Bryce what looked like a stern lecture.
Damn but the man looked fine as hell in his black T-shirt and jeans.
His arms were bigger than my thighs, and that was saying something.
Muscles stacked on muscles spread across his arms and chest.
He had to be over six feet, and every inch of him honed to rippling perfection.
His buzzed hair made my palms tingle.
What would it feel like to run my hands over the short stubble?
Blue eyes locked onto me, and when he crossed his arms, I spotted something I’d missed before.
A stretch of scars spanned his left arm.
Burn scars.
I’d seen similar scars during my volunteer days at the hospital before I became a detective.
Curiosity ignited.
What had happened to him?
A hand slid around my hip and across my spine.
Ash reappeared out of nowhere and hauled me to his side. “Miss me?”
“Not even a little bit.” It was a complete and utter lie.
I’d missed his touch the instant he moved away.
The excitement in my blood began a slow build.
No one had ever tested me the way Ash did.
What if he felt the wire under my dress?
It was thin and easy to miss, but not impossible.
I smirked at the fake wounded expression that transformed Ash’s face.
He slapped a hand to his chest. “You wound me.”
“Hardly.” I snorted a laugh that caused his lips to twitch.
“You have a gorgeous mouth.” He leaned into my space, his breath smelling like whiskey and desire. “Do you have any idea what I’d like to do with it?”
Movement behind Ash drew my attention before I made a complete fool of myself and asked what he wanted from me.
Rafe descended the steps slowly, his black eyes sweeping the room.
Bishop stepped to the side, his arms still crossed in that massive barricade.
The room quieted, and people moved out of Rafe’s way with nods of respect in his direction.
He locked onto me and Ash, and his jaw tightened.
With a crook of his finger, he demanded that we join him.
I hesitated, but Ash’s heavy hand on my hip walked me forward.
Rafe wasted no time once we stood within hearing distance. “If you’re going to get the full picture, you’ll have to come to our fundraiser.”
A younger man popped up by Rafe’s side.
They looked similar enough that I recognized the family resemblance, though the younger Rafe had none of the coldness. “It’s an ugly sweater party.”
Rafe held out a hand, and the young man quieted. “It’s a required festivity, and since you’re now considered part of the group, you’ll go as our old lady.”
I’d researched enough about motorcycle gangs to understand the power he’d handed me.
An old lady was a coveted title, one that women fought–and sometimes killed–to obtain.
I couldn’t have said a word if my life depended on it.
I managed a nod, my body seizing in panic when I recognized the evil glint in Rafe’s eyes.
He twitched his chin toward the stairs. “Come with me.”
I had no choice.
I followed him to the edge of the stairs, past Bishop, and into a private bathroom with navy blue walls and a black sink.
Rafe pointed at a dry cleaner’s bag hanging on the wall. “You’ll wear that.”
I unzipped the bag, barely managing to keep my hands from shaking.
A red Mrs. Claus costume glittered with rows of sequins.
The skirt would barely cover my ass, and the low V in the neckline promised a delicate dance of maneuvering to keep my breasts from spilling out.
“That’s not going to fit me.”
“Yes, it will.” Rafe ran his hands down my shoulders, all the way to my wrists. “If you don’t wear it, you can’t attend the fundraiser.”
So that was his angle.
He hoped to run me off without expressly saying I couldn’t stay.
Two could play that game.
No way I’d let him ruin my very first undercover assignment. I grabbed the sweater dress and hauled it to my chest. “Fine.”
His eyes narrowed.
I wiggled my fingers in a shooing motion. “Leave so I can change.”
He took a step back, then another. “I’ll be waiting in the hall to escort you to the party. It’s not far, but if you’re going to masquerade as our old lady, you have to arrive with us.”
“So all that about my being a shared gift was just hyperbole?” Please say yes.
A dark laugh rippled through the air. “You belong to us now, Noelle. You are what I say you are.”
Why the hell did that make my skin flush with a heat so all-consuming, I was forced to press my thighs together?
Rafe slipped from the room on silent feet, closing the door behind him.
I yanked my red dress off, tore the wire away and balled it up in the material, then shoved it into my purse.
Wearing nothing but my red panties and the strapless red bra I’d thought cute and sexy, I stared at myself in the mirror, gripping the edges of the sink.
Just breathe.
I could do this.
I had to do this.
I glared at my reflection, doing my best to ignore the pudge of my belly and the way my thighs dimpled when I straightened.
Anger surged, and I ripped the costume from the hanger and stepped into it.
I’d put the stupid thing on, walk out, and prove to Rafe that this all meant nothing to me.
He was making a mockery of me and my body.
Force the fat chick to dress as Mrs. Claus. Ha-ha.
I hauled the thin straps over my shoulders, muttering under my breath the entire time as I reached for the zipper at my side.
The fluffy white material that dipped around the V in the chest highlighted the shift in color from the red material to my peaches-and-cream skin.
The zipper closed without any trouble, and I gaped at myself in the mirror.
I’d thought the red dress made me look sexy as hell, but this?
I’d been wrong about the fit.
It was perfect.
Yes, the V dipped so low my breasts threatened to topple out, but the material hugged my curves, flattering my hips and ass in a way nothing else I’d ever worn had managed.
A heavy knock sounded on the door. “Time’s up.”
Rafe.
I swallowed the dryness in my throat and tucked my bag containing the dress and wire beneath my arm.
Convince them you’re not a cop.
I mentally encouraged myself with every step toward the door.
Easy-peasy. Not.
I opened the door, ready to face the criticism on Rafe’s face when he saw the fullness of my curves.
He blocked the entire doorway with his body, a toned and impressive body covered in a red Santa suit made of the same material as my dress.
It fit his sleek outline, the white tapering to a V that ended at his crotch.
“Sexy Santa and his reindeer, at your service.” Ash spoke up from behind Rafe.
Rafe held my gaze, and with nothing more than a look, he smothered my doubts.
Ash peered around Rafe and whistled.
He wore a brown suit with jingle bells around his neck and a set of reindeer antlers on top of his head. “You look good enough to eat.”
He licked his lower lip. “And we all know I love putting things in my mouth.”
My cheeks burned so hot I might burst into flames at any second.
I cleared my throat and forced my chin up. “I thought we were going to a fundraiser.”
Rafe took my hand and wrapped it around the bend of his arm. “Remember who you are.”
“Your old lady.” My chin notched higher.
Bishop led the way from the stairs and back into the main clubhouse.
He wore a suit similar to Ash’s, but without the antlers.
I caught a good look at his ass and grinned at Ash, who turned and wiggled his butt at me, showing off his matching white tail.
He winked and reached forward, grabbing Bishop’s reindeer tail with one hand and giving it a stroke.
Bishop growled and swatted Ash’s hand. “Do that again and I’ll cut it off.”
“No need for violence. Just wanted to show Noelle what she’s working with tonight.” Ash winked again but stopped messing with Bishop.
The room rang hollow and empty with every footstep.
How had everyone left so quickly?
I hadn’t heard a thing.
A peek out the windows showed all the motorcycles still parked outside.
Bishop opened a hidden door behind the bar and ducked into the narrow space.
Ash stepped aside, letting me and Rafe follow Bishop while he took up the rear.
The long corridor hummed with energy that turned into lyrics and a thrumming bass.
A second door at the end of the hallway opened beneath Bishop’s hand, and a new world appeared before my eyes.
Lights strobed across the room, flashing over men and women dancing on a stage that took up an entire wall.
A live band played Christmas carols on bass and electric guitars.
And every single person wore some form of Christmas attire.
Men and women dressed as elves danced with others in snowmen attire.
The entire room rang out with shouts and cheers when Rafe and I walked in.
He pulled me tight to his side when I slowed, and the firmness of his touch reminded me to keep up the facade.
Whistles cut the air, and a man behind the long bar across from the dance floor held out a beer toward Rafe.
He took it and tossed down half the bottle.
The man who looked like Rafe jogged over.
He wore a green sweater covered in red buttons and a band around his forehead that held a sprig of mistletoe.
It bobbed over his eyes with every stride, and a wide smile split his face. “Holy shit, those turned out great. Told you they would.”
“How’s it going?” Ash asked from behind me.
The heat of his body tightened my core, and I tangled my free hand in my purse strap, letting the metal bite into my hand.
“Donations are starting to pick up.” The guy glanced my way. “Sorry, I’m Colt. Rafe’s younger brother.”
I shook the extended hand. “Noelle.”
“I know.” He angled his head toward Rafe. “Everyone’s holding out for you.”
Rafe sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Colt, we discussed this.”
“I’m not dancing.” Bishop’s arms were folded across his chest, his glower cold enough to freeze the Arctic.
“Oh, come on.” Colt slapped Bishop on the back. “You promised.”
“I was lying,” Bishop snarled, but the tightness in his body relaxed a fraction when Colt rolled his eyes.
The younger man had absolutely no fear as he held up his hand and batted at the mistletoe hanging in front of his eyes. “I don’t care if you get up there and stare, but you promised, and we all know you keep your promises.”
Rafe’s fingers skimmed my hip. “He’s right.”
“I have an idea.” Ash bumped his way between Rafe and Bishop.
He met my gaze, and a sinful smile tipped his lips into a curve. “Let’s dance for Noelle. If you want to sell the idea that she’s our old lady, we have to prove it.”
“You already told them I’m a reporter. Isn’t that enough reason for me to be here?”
A man on the other side of the room looked our way.
Something evil skittered across his expression, there and gone so fast I’d think I imagined it except for the way my gut instinct had me reaching for a weapon I wasn’t wearing.
Ash tapped a finger to his lips, a slow wink setting off butterflies in my stomach.
Rafe nudged Bishop in the ribs. “He’s right. Let’s go.”
Bishop grumbled but complied.
I imagined he’d never tell Rafe no about anything.
The band changed songs, and Ash walked me to the front of the stage.
Everyone who’d been dancing stopped and scattered, leaving the stage empty.
Ash climbed the steps first and strolled to the edge where I stood.
“This one’s for you, sweetheart.” Grinning, he unwrapped a lollipop and stuck it into his mouth, then walked backward a step and reached for the buttons on his suit jacket.
A heady thump-thump of bass rose in the air. Bishop and Rafe joined Ash on stage.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
A woman beside me dug a hand into her dress and yanked out a wad of bills.
She tossed a five on the stage and whistled.
Colt stood beside me, his shit-eating grin turning to bold laughter. “We’re going to make a killing tonight.”
“Thought it was a fundraiser.” My eyes were glued to the stage.
Ash shook his ass at me, looking over his shoulder while he finished unbuttoning his jacket and peeled it off his shoulders.
Smooth skin glistened in the strobe lights.
When he straightened and turned, model walking my way with his head raised, I took the time to enjoy the view, taking in the tattoos stretching across his chest and down both arms.
Colt shouted encouragement, stuck his fingers in his mouth, and cat-called with a piercing whistle.
Money flew through the air, and a collective gasp swept through the room when Bishop removed his coat.
Rafe was now the only one still wearing all his clothes.
He reached down, taking hold of his belt, and removed it with a slap of sound that shivered down my spine.
I’d never seen anything sexier in my entire life.
The crowd went wild.
Bills littered the stage, and Colt ducked forward to scrape them into a pile.
I reminded myself to be professional, but the sight of three men stripping right in front of me threatened to undo my control.
“If this is how your old lady looks at you in public, I can only imagine what she does in private.” The masculine jeer came from behind me.
I stiffened but didn’t turn.
Rafe stalked to the edge of the stage, eyes cold enough to murder with a look. “At least we have someone willing to look at us.”
The crowd murmured.
Colt returned to my side. “Shit. I don’t know what’s going on, but we have to sell this. Rafe, Ash, and Bishop are sticking their necks out for you. Having a reporter around is one thing. Claiming you’re their old lady and getting heckled over it is bad.”
“Sell it?” I dug my heels into the hard floor to keep from running away.
“Look at her.” A snort of laughter rebounded over the music. “She’s ready to tuck tail and run.”
Fuck this shit.
I gathered up every scrap of courage I possessed and stepped onto the stage.
Sell it.
The words reverberated with every strum of bass that drummed my heart.
Sell it.
I took a step.
Bishop stood closest to me.
His hands opened and closed into fists.
Tendons bunched and released in his forearms, and the thunderous look on his face almost stopped me.
Instead of letting fear control me, I stepped into his space and looped my arms around his neck.
Damn, he was tall.
I ran my hands over the buzzed hair and down the back of his neck, pulling him down for a kiss.
His lips claimed mine with a searing heat.
One broad hand clamped onto the back of my neck, the push of his thumb on my spine inviting me closer.
For such a big man, he held me carefully.
The softness of his lips lingered on mine, and when he palmed my hip, I leaned into him.
A roar of sound filled my head. Cheers from the crowd soared, but beneath it all, the roar of my pulse drove me closer to Bishop.