Brazen Biker: A Hero Club Novel Read online

  “Your mom lives in New Jersey?”

  “About twenty minutes from the clubhouse.”

  “You have two siblings?”

  “Younger sisters.”

  “You take care of them too?” she asks on an arched brow.

  “When they need it, yeah.”

  She throws her head back, so she’s looking at the ceiling. “Stop being a good guy. It makes it harder to hate you.”

  I take a sip of my coffee, washing down my food. “You know you don’t have to hate me. It ain’t mandatory.”

  “You’re a biker.”

  “I’m also a lot more than that.”

  Her eyes soften. “I’m starting to see that.”

  When we’re finished, we step out of the booth. I drop some cash on the table and give the waitress a lift of my chin as I steer Carla toward the doors. My hand automatically goes to the small of her back, but she doesn’t move away or try to stop me touching her. I take that as another uptick in the progress column.

  The sun is beating down as we step over to the bike, the heat so dry it steals all the moisture from the air. I wipe at my forehead, which is already beading with sweat. Carla folds her jacket and places it in her bag. It’s too hot to ride with it on, and it’s only going to get hotter as the day goes on.

  I climb on the back of the bike and she gets on behind me without hesitation. Our ride takes us through the Tonto National Forest, which is surrounded by mountains and rocks. There’s green among the dusty landscape, but it blends so well with the surroundings, it doesn’t lend much color to the horizon.

  Carla clings to my back, her chin resting on my shoulder as we ride. I love the feel of her at my back, more than I’d probably care to admit. I feel whole, complete with her sitting behind me. I just have to make her see I’m worth taking a chance on, while avoiding the wrath of her father.

  Seven

  Carla

  We hit the New Mexico border after what feels like forever and head toward Albuquerque. We have to stop on the way, both of us feeling the heat. Needing to get out of it, we stop in a small town called Gallup. Hours in the Arizona then New Mexico sun is giving me a headache.

  Rooster finds us a motel with a pool—thank you, Google—and we stop at a store to buy suits before we ride over there. The place looks clean, but basic, and when he kicks the stand down, I climb off the back, ignoring the trembling in my legs.

  I don’t even complain about how long this journey is going to take if we keep stopping because I’m desperate to use that pool. I’m so hot, I feel like I might expire.

  “You know, this would have been easier if we just flew,” I mutter as I pull my helmet off.

  “Don’t trust planes,” is his bizarre response.

  “You don’t trust planes?”

  “Only thing I trust is my bike, Kitten. This is taking longer, but look at the experience we’re having. I’m guessing you ain’t ever seen our beautiful country like we’re seeing it now.”

  “I’d be just as happy seeing it from the air,” I grumble, wiping the dust off my jeans.

  “Yeah, but I can’t carry my gun on a flight.”

  This admission stops me in my tracks. “You’re carrying?”

  He turns and looks at me, and I see something dark pass across his eyes before it fades. “Can’t be too careful.”

  “You think the danger is that bad?”

  “I think it’s bad enough your dad wanted you home, where he can protect you, Carla.”

  His voice is serious and that freaks me out. The man hasn’t been serious once in the whole time we’ve been together.

  “Are they going to hurt my dad?”

  He stares at me then says, “Not if the club can help it.”

  “Who are these people? Why are they a threat?”

  “Can’t tell you. It’s club business, Kitten, but we’re handling it, I promise you that.”

  Anger floods my veins, burning a path around my body. “Don’t feed me that bullshit line. Tell me.”

  He sighs, brushing his hair back from his face, his other hand clutching his helmet.

  “It doesn’t work like that. You know it doesn’t.”

  I do, but still I push him. “You’re dragging me across the country. I might lose my job. You owe me the truth.”

  His eyes crawl over my face before he says, “Let’s go and check-in.”

  Frustration gnaws at my gut. “Rooster!”

  “Darlin’, I can’t tell you, and even if I could I wouldn’t, because it ain’t for you to worry your pretty little head about.”

  Disbelief has me scoffing. “I can’t believe you just said that, you jerk.”

  I storm off in the direction of the office, not wanting to even speak to him. What an asshole. I hear his heavy motorcycle boots following after me as I drag open the reception door and step into a wall of air conditioning. It’s divine. Cold air licks up my heated skin, cooling me instantly.

  I stand to one side as Rooster handles checking us in and then I move out of the building, back into the heat and toward the bike. I barely make it two steps before his fingers circle around my wrist, pulling me up short.

  “Kitten…” Warning cracks through the name.

  I ignore it. I tug my hand away, my rage flaring.

  “Don’t ‘Kitten’ me.”

  “You know I can’t tell you this shit and you know why. You grew up in this life. You ain’t naïve to the way it works.”

  He’s right. I’m not, but frustration over the rules makes me tetchy as hell. I want to throttle him for throwing that club business line at me. I’m not club and I shouldn’t be treated like I have to follow their stupid archaic ways.

  “This involves me. You should tell me what danger I’m in.”

  “You do as you’re told and there won’t be any danger.”

  I grit my teeth. “I want to use the pool.”

  My change in direction has him huffing, but he doesn’t call me on it as he unhooks our bags from the back of the bike and carries it over to the room we were given.

  We both take a quick shower, neither of us speaking to each other, and then put on our suits. My bikini is a little tight, but nothing is hanging out, so I don’t worry about it.

  When he steps out of the bathroom in his board shorts, I can’t stop my eyes from gravitating toward his body. It should be illegal to be this good looking.

  I clear my throat and grab a couple of towels from the bathroom and make my way outside to the pool. There are a couple of loungers, so I drag one under the parasol and lay the towel on top of it. Rooster moves the other, although I wish he wouldn’t. I don’t want to sit near him.

  I leave my phone on my lounger and climb into the pool. The water is cool, the sun heating it enough to make it comfortable to get into. Instantly, the heat leaches right from my skin as the water skims over me.

  Rooster isn’t as careful about getting in. He runs and cannonballs himself, splashing water over me. When he surfaces, he runs his fingers through his wet hair, pushing it out of his face. I splash him.

  “Asshole,” I mutter.

  He splashes me back. “If you’re scared of a bit of water, you probably shouldn’t be in the pool.”

  I splash him again. “I’m not scared, jerk. You just didn’t have to spray water all over me.”

  He grins and I’m soaked again. Then I’m pulled into his arms, my mouth inches from his, my eyes peering up into his. I forget how to breathe, how to think, how to do anything but stare at him. He is extraordinarily handsome, I can’t deny that, and I can’t deny that he affects me either, because he does. Our bodies are nearly touching and I want to move that few inches and close the gap, but I don’t. I can’t. Even when his fingers move to cup my jaw, I hold my ground.

  “You’re the most beautifully infuriating woman on the planet,” he murmurs, his eyes crawling over my face. “I’ve never met anyone quite like you.”

  “That goes both ways,” I tell him on a breath, unable to
tear my eyes away.

  I think he’s going to kiss me, but then a car backfires and his gaze snaps away, his whole body tensing as he pushes me behind him. When he’s sure there’s no threat, he moves to the edge of the pool and climbs out.

  “You’ve got twenty minutes in there, then we’re hitting the road again.”

  I frown at him. “We’re not staying overnight?”

  “No,” he fires back.

  “Why’d you bother with the room?” I demand, exasperation making my voice pitched higher than usual.

  “Thought it would be safe. It ain’t.” He sits on the edge of the lounger and reaches under his towel. I see the glint of metal and realize he brought the gun out with him.

  Dread rolls through me. I let my guard down for a little while, but I need to remember this trip isn’t for pleasure and that he’s here only to keep my ass alive while we travel to New Jersey.

  Eight

  Rooster

  I need to stop looking at this as a trip. I’m here to keep Carla safe and nothing else, but hell, when I’m with her I want it to be so much more. It can’t be, though. That car backfiring reminded me of the real and very present danger we’re facing.

  What if that had been a gun?

  What if I hadn’t managed to protect her in time?

  I don’t think the Filthy Reapers have followed me to Temecula, but I have no clue what those freaks are capable of.

  We shouldn’t keep stopping so much, but the heat was unbearable and I didn’t have a choice. I could feel the blazing heat coming off her through the back of my tee and honestly, I was worried she might get sunstroke. I was feeling a little woozy myself, but watching her splashing about in the pool, I can’t bring myself to force her to leave.

  I peer down at the towel that hides my gun. I can protect her and I will protect her with my dying breath, but that means keeping my eye on the ball and not letting my attention wander. I’ve been too lax with her safety.

  “Time to go,” I tell her, my voice gruff.

  I expect an argument, but she doesn’t give me one. I wonder for a moment if I’ve scared her. My thoughts obliterate as she climbs out of the pool looking like every guy’s wet dream. Her bikini clings to her wet body like a second skin, her nipples poking out of the material tantalizingly. My mouth waters as droplets run down between her ample tits. Her sleeves of tattoos look amazing against the black of the suit. Carla looks stunning, period.

  “Anyone ever tell you you’re a killjoy?” she asks as she steps up to me and reaches for a towel. My eyes follow the movement as she dabs it between her breasts.

  “Better that than one of us getting shot,” I mutter and pull myself out of my daze. Quickly, I gather up our shit and trail after her. I hate to drag her away from here, especially when she seems like she’s having so much fun, and fun isn’t something Carla seemed to care much about until today, but this isn’t a holiday, and I need to remember that.

  My eyes are everywhere as we head back toward the room, seeking potential threats, but there’s no one around and everything is blissfully quiet apart from the dull moan of the traffic in the distance from the highway.

  As soon as the motel door is shut behind us, Carla speaks.

  “You’re worried.” It’s a statement rather than a question.

  “I have your safety to consider.”

  “You honestly think we’re in danger out here?” she asks, grabbing one of the towels and wrapping it around her middle.

  “I don’t know, Kitten, and that’s the problem.”

  She stares at me a moment. “I know you want to take care of me, but really, I’m fine. Nothing is going to happen to me, and you’re right we should try to enjoy this journey.”

  My brow kicks up. “You want to enjoy this journey now? After all your bitching?”

  She shrugs her shoulders. “You were the one who told me to.”

  “I know, but I didn’t expect you’d want to.”

  She surprises the hell out of me by placing her hand on the side of my face, cupping my jaw.

  “You’ll keep us safe. I know you will.”

  “I’ll do everything I can,” I agree, “but this ain’t a game, Kitten. You could die. We all could die.”

  Her throat works at my words and I wish I could take them back, but it’s better she’s prepared, better she knows the real danger she’s in.

  “Then we’d better get back on the road.”

  I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, grateful she’s not going to fight me on this and watch as she steps into the bathroom to get dressed.

  I strip down in the main room and pull on my jeans, which stick to me instantly. I’d rather be in shorts right now, but riding exposed isn’t the best idea. Besides, I want to put some miles between us and Gallup. Stopping there put me on edge, even though logically I knew there was no reason to be.

  We hit the road mid-afternoon and blast through the rest of New Mexico, leaving Albuquerque in the rear-view mirror and heading straight for the Texas border. Night falls, the only light from the streetlamps and the headlights of the traffic moving up the highway.

  Carla snuggles into my back, keeping her chin tucked against my shoulder, her arms wound around my middle. It feels amazing having her behind me, like a dream, but that dream could be shattered in an instant, so I keep my wits about me as we ride, looking out for any suspicious vehicles coming up behind us. The ride is uneventful, though, and as we cross the Texas border, I feel my eyes getting heavy. I manage to ride for another hour, until we hit Amarillo. My body then forces me to stop.

  I find us a motel. It’s close to the highway, so we can get straight back on it in the morning. Carla and I head into the office and she moves over to look at the tourist leaflets while I sort the room situation.

  “What can I get you?” the owner asks, and I notice she pushes her tits out slightly. I have this effect on women often, so I’m used to being flirted with, but I don’t want Carla to get the wrong idea, so I cast a side-long glance at her before I ask in a bored tone.

  “A twin room.”

  She turns to the computer, her eyes fluttering at me and types something in.

  “Only got one double left, sorry, sugar.”

  Carla steps over to us. “No way. We need two beds.”

  “Kitten—”

  “Haven’t got anything else,” the woman says, a little exasperated. I don’t like the tone she’s using with Carla.

  “We’ll try another motel.” Carla moves toward the door, but the woman speaks again.

  “Won’t have much luck. There’s a convention taking place in town. Everywhere will be booked up. You’re lucky I’ve got this room left.”

  Carla’s teeth grind together.

  “Ain’t riding further, Kitten. I’m exhausted. It’s just one night.” I hold my hands up in supplication. “I promise, I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

  She eyes me like she’s contemplating shoving my balls up my ass.

  “I’m not sharing a bed with you.”

  “If I had a man who looked like that,” the woman mutters, “I’d chain him to my bed.”

  “You’re welcome to him.”

  “This ain’t my fault,” I tell her. “It’s a shitty situation, but it’s one night and the alternative is to sleep with the bike in the parking lot.”

  “Fine.” It looks like it takes a lot for her to say that word, but I take it as a victory.

  We check-in and head to the room to dump our stuff. As soon as we step inside the room and flick the lights on Carla curses.

  “That’s not a double.”

  She’s right. This bed is small. It’s going to be a tight fit for the both of us.

  “Parking lot,” I murmur in her ear before pushing around her and stepping fully into the room. I drop our bags on the chair and sink onto the edge of the mattress. “It’s not that bad.”

  “I don’t want to share a bed with you.” She pouts and it’s adorable as fuck.

/>   “I wish I could take a photograph of you right now. You look sweet as candy.”

  She scowls at me. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “You’re not the first person to try to figure that out, Kitten.”

  We find a restaurant that’s still serving food and get something to eat before heading back to the motel. She’s quiet through dinner, which I don’t like. I try some of my best jokes on her and get nothing back, which worries me.

  Carla is on edge as we get ready for bed, so I decide to let her off the hook.

  “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

  Her head snaps up and she narrows her eyes. “Why?”

  “Because it’s obvious you’re not happy about sharing a bed with me, and I’m not a total jerk.”

  This makes her eyes soften, which I like more than I probably should.

  “Rooster…”

  I snag a pillow off the bed and toss it onto the floor. There’s not enough covers for us to both have so I lie with no blankets. I probably look pathetic lying there in just my boxer briefs

  She peers down at me, her arms folding over her chest.

  “I appreciate the sentiment, but this isn’t going to work either. You’re going to be miserable tomorrow.”

  I snort. “Better than you wanting to kill me.”

  “I don’t want to kill you.”

  “Kitten, your claws are practically flaying me.”

  “We have another long day of riding tomorrow. Please, get in the bed.”

  I want to leap up and do as she’s demanded, but I show a little restraint and don’t move right away.

  “Are you sure?”

  Her scowl has my lips twitching. “Yes, I’m sure. Do it before I change my mind.”

  I climb to my feet and slip under the covers. The bed is comfortable and warm. It soothes my aching bones. I’m used to riding, but even this journey is affecting me. She must feel wrecked.

  I watch as Carla hesitates for a moment then climbs under the covers. She rolls to her side, so her back is to me, as if she’s trying to put a barrier between us, which makes me chuckle.