Chapter 8
EIGHT
SOFEE
“Please, please, please,” I pray to the car gods and try to crank my car again. The interior lights don't even flicker as I turn the key. Clicking noises sound rapidly from somewhere within my shitty Honda Civic. I release the keys and lean back, frowning at the center of the steering wheel.
“Motherfucker,” I mumble and let my head fall back onto the headrest. Closing my eyes, I cover my face with my hands. I’ve been trying for the last ten minutes to start this pile of shit, and nothing is working. Between the irreparably broken A/C and now this, I'm about to cut my losses and roll this bitch into the river.
Anger thrums through my body as heavily as my exhaustion. All I want is to go home, take a scorching hot shower, and collapse onto my damn bed. But after a long twelve-hour shift, do you think fate would let that happen? Hell no . Lady Fate seems to have a sense of humor that I’ll never comprehend.
My feet are killing me, my head is on the verge of pounding, and I could cry I’m so tired. It’s moments like this I really miss having my own place. In my old house, I had one of those huge clawfoot tubs I could soak in after a long shift. All the clubhouse has is showers. Yet another reason why I should start looking for a new place.
I open my eyes and sit up straight. Scowling at the interior of my car, I furiously pull at the hair tie holding my hair in place. As soon as the elastic is set free, I release a deep sigh and massage my achy scalp. Immediately, my impending headache is relieved as my hair finally relaxes.
Tonight was one of the longest shifts I think I’ve ever worked. Even though it was just your average twelve-hour shift, it felt like so much longer than that, especially after Joel was admitted. With only one hour left of my shift, his presence made one seem like six.
After I’d woken up Dr. Haley, I tried to keep myself occupied with anything other than checking on him. Restocking, cleaning, running labs, you name it, I willingly did it just to avoid facing him. I could only imagine what Miles would’ve said if he’d been working tonight.
“You’re really going to hide from that delicious hunk of man meat? Girl, if you don’t jump on that, I'm going to go see how straight he really is.”
I nearly giggle at my impression of my best friend. I spend so much time with Miles that it’s impossible not to know exactly what will come out of his mouth.
When I clocked out, Joel was still occupying bed seven, waiting for his X-ray results to come back. I’ve been an emergency nurse long enough to know that he obviously had a dislocated shoulder, but we have protocols to follow, which was just as well. Because if the doctor decided it was dislocated on the spot, he would have asked me to assist in resetting the arm. And I knew that if I put my hands anywhere on him, inappropriate thoughts would cloud my better judgment. It's best if I never see him again as I become nothing more than a bumbling fool around him.
I huff a loud breath and grab my keys dangling from the ignition again. “Alright, listen here. It’s okay if you want to go to the junkyard and die tomorrow, I’ll drive you there myself. But I need you to hang in there a little longer for me. I just need to get home. Okay?” I speak to the car as if it can actually hear me.
I press my foot on the brake and mumble a little prayer as I twist the key again. The infernal clicking noise sounds once more. Not a single sputter of the engine is heard, and my mood completely flattens.
“You always were a selfish bitch,” I growl before slapping my hands against the steering wheel. I mumble a long string of profanities as I pull the lever to open the hood of the car. It pops open with a click, and I push open my door.
Rounding the car, I search for the latch just under the lip of the hood, pry it open, and push it up. After I move the rod in place to hold it open, I lean heavily on the front of the grill. I furrow my brows while looking at the car's innards, trying to see if I notice anything amiss. Then I realize I know absolutely nothing about cars or how the engine is supposed to look, so I give up.
I let some of my frustration out as I remove the rod and slam the hood back into place as hard as I can. I feel like screaming at the hunk of junk and kicking it until something breaks, but I refrain.
What now?
I could call Li and ask him to come get me. But you’re already a burden to your brother, do you really wanna push that limit some more? “Pass,” I mumble to myself. I could go back into the hospital and see if one of the other nurses can give me a ride. Yeah, but then you run the risk of running into tall, dark, and mysterious again. “Absolutely not.”
Sighing to myself, I walk back to my door and reach in through the open window, grabbing my bag. Opening it, I dig around for my cell. Once I find it, I open the ride-share app and enter my location. I nearly weep tears of joy as I spot an available ride nearby, just on the other side of the hospital near the main entrance. If I hurry, I can get there before it takes off.
I pull my backpack up and over my shoulders, the heavy weight pulling me down, forcing me to shift my weight before I fall on my ass. I briefly wonder if I should take the keys from the ignition and close the windows, but I quickly dismiss the notion. Since my house burned down, I have no other useful keys on that key ring. So, if someone tries to steal my car, well, good luck getting it started. Besides, the tow company will need the keys when they come to pick it up. I make a mental note to search for the nearest mechanic shop on the ride home.
Turning my back on the broken-down car, I start walking at a brisk pace. I could go back into the hospital and cut through to the main entrance, but for once, the midsummer heat is not melting me as I stand here.
It’s just a little after six in the morning, and nature is starting to come to life all around me. The sun is peeking out from the horizon, making the world seem hazy and dreamlike. It’s late enough in the morning that some people are starting their days but still early enough to hear the cicadas buzzing in nearby trees. It’s almost peaceful enough to make me think this walk was a good idea. That is until I realize how far of a walk it’s going to be.
I’m barely past the parking lot and onto the sidewalk that runs along the main road when my feet start screaming at me. Wincing with almost every step, I'm really starting to regret not taking that break now.
At the time, it seemed like the smart thing to do. Giving all my other nurses and aides a break while the doctor was away. But now, I’m feeling the repercussions.
My head may have stopped pounding since I took my thick pile of hair down. But having to walk all this way with my heavy backpack strapped to my back is really highlighting my achy feet and tired soul.
Buck up, butter cup, you’re almost there. My inner voice becomes my cheerleader, and I want to call her a fucking idiot. I should have asked Liam to come get me. I’m already a burden, how much worse could it get at this point?
I’m nearly halfway to the front of the building when a deep rumble rolls up next to me on the street. At first, I think it might be someone on their morning commute, so I keep my head down and continue walking. But then the rumbling only gets louder until I’m all but forced to look over, curiosity finally getting the better of me.
I nearly have to catch my drool as I see the motorist slowly gliding along beside me. He’s slowed to a crawl, his decreased speed quieting the steady growl coming from the idling engine that causes my pulse to jump in my throat. The custom, deep green, powerful machine reminds me of sex on wheels, but not as much as the rider.
Declan has one hand holding the handlebar steady as his other rests on top of his thigh, inches away from the bulge that tempts me in a delectably sinful way. I’ve always thought bikes were hot, even before my brother joined his little club. But when it’s Declan controlling the rumbling beast between his legs? Well, let's just say seeing him on a motorcycle would make a nun renounce her vows.
His violet eyes are dim this morning, making me wonder if he just woke up or has been awake for a while. His short beard is smooth against his face, but his dark head of hair is beautifully tousled. You know that hair is just as soft as it looks. My inner voice coos. His brows are furrowed in the middle, but not so much scowling at me, more like he’s posing a silent query.
A question forms on my lips, but before I can voice it, he interrupts me.
“What the fuck are you doing out here?” His question is harsh in a way I didn’t expect, causing me to flinch. Not that most of his words aren't said with a sharpened edge when he’s talking to me, but I just didn’t expect his abrupt tone when we haven’t even spoken in over a week.
I stop walking immediately and grip the straps of my bag so hard that it hurts my palms. Shooting daggers at him, I snap. “I could ask you the same question.”
His scowl deepens in a way that makes my blood pressure rise. Without saying anything else, I know he’s going to start a fight, and I’m way too tired to battle him right now. So instead of engaging any further, I turn away from him and continue on my trek.
Out of the corner of my vision, I see his jaw go slack and a crease form between his brows. He isn’t used to me simply walking away, and the shocked jump of his eyebrows almost makes me want to giggle.
“Sofee,” he growls as he continues to slowly roll next to me. I ignore him and hold my chin high. “Sofee, where’s your car?” he tries again, but I continue to ignore him. Staying completely silent, I increase my walking speed to a brisk pace. Even now, I see the front entrance of the hospital where the car is waiting for me.
This must infuriate him because I hear his curse right before he revs his engine. “Good,” I mumble to myself. Maybe now I can finish this journey with some semblance of peace.
But before I’m comforted by the sound of his exhaust in the distance, he swerves suddenly. My feet screech to a halt as he jumps the curb right in front of me and stops less than three feet away. I clench my fists around my bag straps again as I face the infuriating man on the motorcycle.
“What the hell is your problem?” I seethe angrily, having to raise my voice to be heard over the idle of his engine.
“You’re my problem,” he snarls and cuts the engine. All at once, I’m able to hear the sounds of light traffic up ahead and the cicadas' song again. I glare at him as he stands from his seat, drags his leg up and over, and steps into my space.
“How am I your problem? You haven't even seen me enough this last week to deem me problematic.” I look at him as if he's the stupidest person in the world. I can't control it when he provokes this all-consuming aggression in me.
“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he grits out, completely ignoring my question. “Where is your car?” he bites out each word as if I’m slow.
Cocking my head to the side, I glare up at him. Why does he give a shit about me or my car? “Not that it’s any of your business, but it won’t start. So I’m trying to catch a ride up by the front of the hospital, and you’re in my way,” I say and try to step around him.
Too quick for me to see coming, he reaches out and grabs the front straps of my bag. I suck in a startled breath as he jerks them hard, the motion pulling me close enough to his front that I have to crane my neck just to look up at him. His scent surrounds me as surely as his heat, making me sweat. My heart skips a few beats at the rough treatment. Feeling my pulse beating in my throat, I stare up into the most violent, deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Eyes that are fixated on my mouth like a hungry wolf.
“There’s a fine line between hate and lust, baby girl.”
My friend's voice echoes within the recesses of my mind, accompanied by the instant replay of Declan biting me last week. I dart my tongue out, wetting my suddenly dry lips, and watch his scowl deepen.
“Why didn’t you just call your brother to come pick you up?” His voice is deeper than normal as he poses his question.
I squint up at him, conveying my answer without actually speaking it. I attempt to pull out of his grasp, but he refuses to let go. “I’m already a burden to everyone; I don’t need to make it worse,” I say with a bite to my words. His brows twitch and briefly relax, a softness I haven’t seen since the day of the fire clouds his gaze. But just as quickly, they pinch back into a scowl. I meet him with one of my own. “I don’t feel like arguing with you today, Declan. I don’t have the patience for this indignant inquisition,” I growl the complex words like an insult. I know he hates when I use them, which is why I do it.
His eyes flare and his mouth twitches, but he says nothing. Just continues to study me until finally, he releases my straps and steps away. It feels as if he were withholding my air as I try to inhale a calming breath and watch him back away from me. But just when I think he’s about to mount his bike and ride off into the rising dawn, he pulls his phone from his pocket instead. After a couple of swipes, the phone starts ringing. He places the call on speaker as it connects and simply stares at me. I resist the urge to squirm under his intense gaze.
“Thank you for calling Sex Addicts Anonymous.” Hayden’s sleepy voice comes over the line, and I nearly snort at his greeting. “To be called a good girl, press one…”
“Hayden, stop fucking around,” Declan snaps. “Sofee’s car broke down at the hospital. Get your ass out of bed, get Bertha, and get down here,” he says, referring to the club's wrecker.
Good to know he’s a dick to everyone, not just me.
“Aye aye, captain,” he yawns over the speaker before hanging up.
Declan pockets the phone and then turns back to his bike. I watch his back as he pulls his thick leather vest off his shoulders and down his back. Mesmerized by the way his muscles move under the tight black shirt he wears, I stare at his broad back and try not to salivate. Once he has the leather off and in his hands, he straddles the slick green beast yet again. His powerful thighs grip the smooth dark metal in a way that reminds me of sex. Rough, filthy sex.
Then he does something that truly shocks me. He turns his gaze toward me and offers me his vest. I curl my nose up at the offer and stare at the outstretched leather as if it's going to bite me. When I make no move to grab it, he speaks.
“Come on, Ken will be here soon. I’ll take you home.”
I’m taken aback by his offer. “I can’t just… I’m fine with getting a ride. The car is just right up?—”
“Get on the fucking bike, Brat,” he grits behind clenched teeth and pins me with his hard glare. I watch the muscles in his jaw feather as if he’s holding himself back from saying more. I glance between him and the jacket he's holding, weighing my options.
I could ignore him. I should walk right past him in all his self-righteous prick-ness and go get in that car that’s waiting for me. It’d piss him off but I’m used to feeling nothing more than his hostility anyway.
Or I could relent just this once and give him what he wants. I could take his offering as just a nice thing to do for your best friend's sister and let him give me a ride. My feet are killing me, and the thought of walking anymore makes me want to cut them right off my body.
And if you’re being honest with yourself, you’ve wanted to ride on Declan’s new bike for a while now. My inner voice reasons.
I may not have one of my own, but motorcycles have always interested me. Liam lets me take his out all the time. But the one I’ve really craved to have between my legs all these years is Declan’s. I never had the chance to ride his old black Harley before he trashed it the day of the fire. And there’s just something about his new custom Fat Boy that calls to me on a visceral level. The smooth polished wheels, the shiny dark green paint, and even the gleaming chrome handlebars. Every inch of the sleek beast on two wheels entices me in the same way the apple tempted Eve.
Fuck it.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I slide my heavy bag from my shoulders and set it on the ground. Then I grab the thick leather vest and slide it on. It’s still warm from his body heat, making me feel like I’m being hugged by the garment. Declan’s alluring masculine scent immediately envelops me, and a deep heat settles into my core. The vest is way too big for me; it’s swallowing me whole actually, but I find myself becoming obsessed with the feeling of it.
I glance back up to find Declan’s eyes glued to me. There’s a steady tick in his jaw as his eyes lock onto the heavy leather surrounding me. His reaction seems hostile, but for the life of me, I can’t figure out why. He offered me the fucking vest, he can’t be angry that I actually took it. Can he?
I try not to dwell on the way his clothes feel on my body as I grab my backpack and sling it back onto my shoulders. The heavy weight almost seems to ground me as I step up to the bike.
Declan finally rips his gaze away from me and faces forward. I place my hand on his shoulder for balance as I straddle the bike behind him. His muscles twitch and tense below my palm as if repulsed by the touch. I ignore him as best I can and finally sit on the warm leather of his seat.
I’m so close to him now that I have no choice but to feel the intense heat radiating off him. I know I have to grab him around his waist before we take off, but I can’t make myself do it. The moment I press my front to his rigid back, I know I’ll have the irrevocable need to sink into him fully. So instead, I grab the seat just below my ass and hold my back straight as a board. It’s dangerous to hold on this way, especially with the heavy bag on my back, but it’s even riskier to hold him the way I should.
“What the hell are you doing?” His deep, rumbling voice startles me. His face is turned over his shoulder as if he’s trying to look at me. I frown at his back and shake my head. Before I can voice anything, he continues. “You can’t hold on like that.”
A deep heat fills my cheeks. “It’s fine,” I say.
He shakes his head. “If I bank too hard around a corner, you'll fall right off,” he says, a fact I know to be true.
“I said, it’s fine,” I growl with fake bravado. At first, he looks as though he’s going to argue with me some more, but then he grunts a sound of annoyance and fires up the bike. I smother my grin behind tightened lips. I win .
At least that’s what I think until he revs the bike and pulls off the sidewalk like a bat out of hell. His tires screech and bounce against the pavement as he holds the throttle down. I let out an entirely embarrassing girly squeal as my legs come flying up, and I flail to grab onto anything within reach. I wave my arms wildly, gripping at air until finally getting a fistful of his shirt. Then, without resisting any longer, I pull myself forward and snake my arms around his middle in a quick move, holding onto him for dear life.
He laughs as he slows to a somewhat normal speed. I think about smacking him in the back of his head until I realize I’m laughing too. I’m only able to see the side of his face, but the joyous grin stretching his cheeks makes my breath hitch in my throat.
The breeze feels like freedom as he drives through traffic as if it's his job. The steady vibrations between my legs send shivers racing up my body. The feeling of utter abandon makes my chest swell with happiness.
Like I said, I love motorcycles.
But there’s something different about this ride. This ride, I feel something else entirely thrumming through my body. This excitement has nothing to do with the bike and everything to do with the driver.
I’m pressed tightly against his back, enveloped by his scorching heat. I feel the urge to bury my face in the soft black fabric of his shirt as he maneuvers through traffic. My hands clench and release in a rhythm against his hard abdomen. His hot skin just beneath the thin shirt makes me yearn to rip it from his body. I crave the sensation of the soft flesh that lies just below.
My core pulses wildly, arousal thick within my veins. I try to squeeze my thighs together to ward off the ache that’s slowly building but get no relief as they hold the outside of Declan's hips too snugly. As if he feels the same thing I do, his belly twitches beneath my clenched fists.
Maybe it’s the freedom of being on this ride, or perhaps it's my repressed sexual frustration, but I’m feeling bold for the first time in my life. I’ve never felt this urge to take advantage of the situation as strongly as I do right now. To claim something I’ve never dared to take for myself.
Eyeing the taut muscles of his back, I flatten my palms against his stomach. He tenses up once more in a jerky way as if he lacks control over his own reactions to my touch. My fingers delicately glide along the smooth fabric as I press myself even closer to him.
His shoulders bunch, but I don’t stop. For the first time in my life, I feel as though I’m doing something for myself. Something that nobody can take away from me. After what Declan did to me in the bar, I’ve been increasingly curious about what it all meant. So, it’s time I discover if Miles was right. How thin is that line?
I lean up as far as my position allows and breathe against Declan’s neck. Then I watch as gooseflesh prickles across the skin there before placing my nose against the base of his neck. I smile, ensuring he feels the gentle movement of my lips grazing against him. The wind whips around us so loudly that I almost don’t hear his growled warning.
“Sofee,” he says my name as a dark omen, but it sounds more like a whispered promise on the breeze.
Feeling bold, I move my fingers. Once against his tight lower belly, I feel my way closer to the top of his jeans. He jerks against me as I slip my hand just under the fabric of his shirt. The feel of his hot, bare flesh against my own has thick arousal coursing to my center. My clit is throbbing in a way that has nothing to do with the vibrations below me and everything to do with the man in my arms.
Declan's focus on the road is impeccable, considering I’m pushing him to do something reckless. He banks around a sharp corner, leaning his body with the curve, and I follow suit. I’ve been on the back of enough bikes to know how a passenger is supposed to act. But the one thing I wasn’t counting on was him releasing one of the handlebars and gripping that big hand on the outside of my thigh. Awareness radiates from the spot he grips, driving me mad with lust. Then we straighten back out, and I’m shocked when he doesn’t remove his hand.
I move my hips, trying to relieve some of the pressure building in my sex, but all it does is send another jolt of awareness through me. I can’t see my own eyes, but I bet if I looked into a mirror, they would be just as dark as my desire.
My fingers dance against the exposed skin of his belly, swooping lower and lower with each swipe. His hand flexes against my thigh, urging me on without words. His actions embolden me as I toy with the button of his jeans before slipping past the denim just the slightest bit.
His hips jerk, causing the band of his jeans to squeeze my fingers. I want to push lower, but the confinement of the fabric restricts me. Still, I can feel the coarseness of his hair against my pads as I explore as far as I’m able. My pussy squeezes as if begging for the very thing I crave to wrap my hand around. If I could reach him, would I find him hard for me? A silent question tangled with barely cloaked desire.
But before I can find an answer to my burning question, we pull into the parking lot of the clubhouse. And just like that, my fun time is over. But does it have to be?
If I invited him up to my room to finish this, would he follow? Has the thought even crossed his mind? I could ask myself these questions until I’m blue in the face, but unless I try, I’ll never know.
So as he parks the bike in his usual spot and cuts the engine, I remove my hands and quickly dismount. I don’t attempt to give him his vest back yet, I have other intentions first. My heart is in my throat as I stride toward the bar's entrance. Sensing his heated gaze on my back, I exaggerate the sway of my hips. Wordlessly tempting him to follow me upstairs.
I glance back quickly and find him still sitting on his bike, watching me with dark violet eyes. Ripping my gaze away, I push through the door and march up the stairs. Either he’ll pick up on the hint or not. If not, I’m prepared to take care of my little problem myself.
Just then, a wicked thought strikes me that has me grinning like a mad woman.
I practically jog up the only set of stairs and push past my door. I leave it wide open as I take my heavy bag from my shoulders and place it on the dresser by the door. My heart feels like it’s climbed out of my ribcage and made its way to my throat. My gaze snags on the giant tapestry with the MC logo on it that hangs above my bed. The razor-sharp teeth inside the skull's mouth become a visual representation of the stabbing need pulsating in my core.
Since moving in months ago, I’ve tried to make this room look less like my brother's and more like a home for myself. I bought some new furniture for the space and some cute little knick-knacks I found at thrift stores and placed them around the apartment. I even hung some new plants in the only window, trying to recreate the feel of my old home. But I never took down the tapestry for some reason. Maybe, on some level, I left it there as a reminder that this isn’t actually my home and that none of this is permanent. I stare at it now as I start to undress with shaking hands.
One item at a time, I let the garments fall to the floor at my feet. First, his vest, then my scrubs, bra, and panties. Soon, I’m standing completely nude in the middle of my brother's old room with the door wide open. The brisk air from the A/C causes my nipples to pucker into sensitive peaks. A devilish grin covers my lips as I pick up the discarded leather and slide it back on. Then I walk over to the bright pink, crinkled package sitting on the desk and pull out the purple vibrator Miles gifted me.
Before I hear any sounds of Declan coming into the clubhouse, I rush into my adjoining bathroom and quickly unpackage and wash my new toy. Then I come back into the bedroom, step up to the bed, lie down, and sinfully arrange the vest in a way that leaves very little to the imagination. Then, I wait.
My heart thunders in my chest loudly as I turn on the vibrator. I know that what I’m doing could completely backfire on me. He could walk up those stairs, see what I’m doing to myself, and turn around, disgusted by the sight of me.
But this could also go exactly the way you want it to go.
And that thought alone is enough to make any remaining questions of doubt disappear. Because if I don’t try this, if I don’t see once and for all what Declan truly thinks of me, then I know I’ll regret it. I’m tired of not doing the things I want to do just because I’m scared of the outcome. I’ve been a good girl all my life, and just this once, I want to be bad.