BikersLibrarian (9 page)

“My room is the third down on the left side.” The plaque by
the door that said “Shooter” made her smile. After opening the door, he flicked
on the light.

“Ignore the mess.” Small piles of t-shirts and pants
littered the floor. He kicked the door shut then spun her to face him. “I need
to be buried deep inside you, baby. Here where I lay my head every night. Is
the birth control working?”

“Yes.” She whimpered as he pulled her tank top over her
head. His heated fingers trailed up her sides. Shoes were cast aside. Clothing
hit the ground. Reconnecting at the mouth, they walked backward to the bed.

“Get on your knees. I’m going to fuck you until you scream
and I fill your pussy up with my come.”

“Yes.” Climbing on to the bed, she pushed her ass up. He
caressed her round cheeks and moved to test her sex.

“Always so wet and ready for me.” He crawled up behind her,
caressed her with the head, and thrust home. She clutched the sheets and rocked
back to meet him. The slap of skin rent the air as he nailed her against the
bed. The angle let him penetrate deep. He hit the button inside her that
brought all rational thought to a halt.

“Fuck, so good,” he growled.

She peered over her shoulder. “Fuck me harder.”

“Yes.” The bed rocked, tapping the headboard against the
wall. Her pussy fluttered. Digging his fingers into the flesh of her hips, he
brushed her cervix, sending jolts of pleasurable pain zinging through her body.

“Do it, come in my pussy, Shooter.” Squeezing her muscles
tight as a fine tremble overtook her, she felt him swell and his muscles tense.
Unable to hold on any longer, she screamed and covered his cock with a rush of
heated liquid. A few strokes later he followed her, coating her insides with
his essence. Closing her eyes, she cherished the feeling. She’d never allowed
anyone else to do this. Not even Peter, who’d controlled her every move for so
long.

Shooter flipped them to their sides, remaining inside her.
Flying high, she snuggled against him as their breathing evened out, content
and relieved her introduction had been disaster-free.

* * * * *

Shooter sat up in bed. His body tensed as he strained to see
in the darkened room. Easing open the drawer beside him, he drew his gun and
waited. A giggle filled the space and he shook his head.

Crazy-ass bitches wandering around drunk.

Clicking on the light, his jaw hit the ground.

“Surprise.”

Pale supple skin, bare pussies and long dark hair greeted
him. He blinked, but the vision remained. Of all the time for the Demasi twins
to pay him a late-night visit.

“What the fuck?” Juliette’s voice rang out.

“Oh…are we making it a foursome tonight?” The one on the
right—Jessica?—asked.

“’Cause she’s pretty, and we like chocolate every now and
then.” Jane’s eyes shone with approval as she gave Juliette a slow once-over
while she scrambled to cover her body.

“Is this why you brought me here?” Disgust dripped from
Juliette’s every word. “Fuck you for making me think you were different. I’m
not doing this again.”

“No!” Shooter said, throwing his hands up in the air. Her
words cut him to the quick.
Her ex used to pull this shit?

“Oh, so we need to break her in?” Jessica asked.

“All of your girls protest at first but you seem to bring
them around. With our help, of course.” Jane sashayed toward the bed. “Don’t
worry, honey. You’ll love it.”

“I don’t know who you are but one more step and I swear I’ll
lay you out cold.” Juliette moved from the bed, holding yards of sheet to her
body with one hand while she held the other up, palm out.

Jessica grinned. “Oh we like them feisty.”

“Get your clothes on and get the fuck out of here. This is
my old lady,” Shooter barked.

The twins exchanged a look. “Are you sure you don’t want us
to—”

“Now,” he growled. Putting the safety on, he put his gun
back and scrambled out of the bed to chase after Juliette, who’d grabbed her
clothes and headed into the bathroom. He turned the knob. Locked.

“Come on, baby, it wasn’t what you thought,” Shooter said.
“I wouldn’t put you in a situation like that.”

“So you haven’t had ménage plus who-knows-how-many with them?
So much they think it’s normal to walk in here like they own the place? What’s
to stop them from doing it again?”

Wincing, he closed his eyes and banged his head against the
door. “I can’t change my past.”

“That’s not what this is about, Shooter.” Her voice warbled.

“I never lied about who I was.”

“No, but seeing it up close and personal is fucking with my
head.” Her voice shook.

“Just let me in and we’ll talk.”

“I don’t want to talk, Shooter. I want space.”

The words hit a red panic button inside him. “How can we
work through it if you run away?” Shooter smacked his palm against the door.
“Don’t pull away from me.”

“I’m not running—I’m walking, because if I don’t, odds are
I’ll do or say something I’ll regret. Look, I’ve already called a taxi.”

“No way.” He battered the door. “The only way you’re leaving
here is on the back of my bike.”

“Good luck enforcing that one.” Her snippy response fueled
his anger. “Stop trying to tell me what to do and let me deal with it my own
way.”

“I swear to god I’ll kick this door in.”

“ Go ahead, you’ll be the one fixing it.”

His chest heaved and his dick lengthened.
I don’t think
I’ve ever heard her so fucking fierce.
Damn, how could she sound so hot
right now? She was giving him hell, but he loved the fact that she’d stood up
for herself. It meant she was comfortable with him. He smiled goofily. “There’s
no need to be jealous, baby. I’m with you now. These whores aren’t even a blip
on my radar.”

“Jealous?” A shriek sliced through the door between them. He
clenched his teeth.
Poor word choice.

“Hey, man, what’s going on?” Turning, he saw a group of
bleary-eyed brothers in the door frame.

“The fucking twins decided tonight would be a great time to
surprise me and when they saw Juliette, they figured they’d include her.”

“Oh dude, you are so fucked right now.” Moose snorted.

“Yeah, thanks for the support. Close the door, will you?”

“Sure thing. We’ll get the twins out too.”

“Thanks, Moose.”

The door shut and he sighed. “Juliette…” Silence. “Are you
going to ignore me now?” When she refused to respond, he swore and pushed away
from the rectangle of wood that felt like a barricade. Ambling over to the bed,
he dug out his jeans and slipped them on. Rapping sounded on the door.

What now? “Yeah.”

“Just thought you might want to know your old lady is
climbing into a cab right now.”

“Son of a bitch.” She’d climbed out the bathroom window.
Gritting his teeth, he balled his fists. Run if you want to, Juliette. I’ll
track you down every time.

“Just let her go. I’ll meet her at her house.”

Prez appeared, and the group parted. A small, rare grin
lined his lips. “I gotta tell you, I like the librarian, man.” He shook his
head. “I think she’ll fit in here nicely. I wasn’t so sure when I first met
her.”

Shooter scowled. “It’s only funny because you don’t have to
face her wrath.”

“True, but I been there a time or two. Smooth things out.
She looked at you like you were fucking Prince Charming. Men like us need a
woman like that at our back.” Having spoken his piece, Tiny walked off.

“All right, show’s over. Let’s leave so the brother can
dress and go grovel.” Hawk grinned.

“Jackass,” Shooter spat.

The Native American man chuckled as everyone moved away from
the door. A glance down the hall told Shooter the party was still going but the
crowd had thinned significantly. Disappearing back into his room, he finished
dressing and stalked out of the club. It was time she came clean about her
past. It was darker than she first let on and obviously still affecting her. He
couldn’t erase his past and he’d told her flat-out he hadn’t spent the past
seven years being a saint. But he didn’t think her panic stemmed from that.
Concerned, he started his bike and nodded to the brother to open the gate. He
should have been rolling over and slipping inside her for a second time, not
going on some wild girl chase. He tried to prepare himself for the battle
ahead. Two streets over from her house, he killed the bike and walked it the
rest of the way. Waking up the neighbors would only add insult to injury.
Setting his bike on its kickstand in the driveway, he walked up to the door and
knocked. The light illuminated her bedroom but he wouldn’t put it past her to
ignore him.

Knocking harder to remind her she wasn’t dating some pretty
pushover, he leaned against the wall beside the door and waited. A few moments
later the door jerked open. Dressed in a robe, she stood before him with her
arms wrapped around her waist. Her red-rimmed eyes, tear-stained face and
wounded expression dulled his anger.

“Why the hell did you take off like that? I didn’t tell them
to come in.”

She glanced away.

“You believe me, don’t you?” Slouching in an attempt to
catch her gaze, he reached out to brush her hair behind her ear. Skittish, she
pulled back. Panic swam in her gaze. “What’s wrong?”

She tugged the robe closer and shook her head.

“ I know this isn’t about more than the twins, not really?
So what is it about?” Her breaths shortened, and she clutched at her throat. He
stepped inside, closing the door behind him as he led her to the couch.

“Put your head between your legs and breathe deep. You’re
going to hyperventilate. Do you have an inhaler?” He went into Marine mode
dealing with the issue at hand. There was something extremely wrong here.

She shook her head. “I’m fine.” The quiver of her lips said
otherwise. “When I saw them at the end of the bed and she started to taunt
me…it brought back bad memories.”

“Peter?” He ached to wrap his fingers around the man’s neck.
He’d avoided digging into the man’s identity until now. Because once he had an
address, it’d be a matter of time until he paid the motherfucker a visit. He
had a feeling whatever Juliette said now would tip him over the scale to the “I
don’t give a fuck who this asshole is” zone.

“He liked to make me watch him with other women. It got him
off, and when that stopped, things got ugly.” She rubbed her robe between her
fingers. Her eyes darted around the room.

“Fuck, baby. I didn’t know.”

“I-I know. I’m not pissed at you for having a colorful past.
“ She shook her head. “I’m not a child or ignorant. I know who you are. It’s
just, in that moment all I could remember was how inadequate I felt. I couldn’t
please him as is. And they were always so small. Petite dolls with pale skin.
It made me wonder why he was with me. He wanted me to join, but I couldn’t…I
couldn’t.” She pressed her hands to her mouth like a small child afraid of
getting into trouble for being too loud. “He wanted me to be like them. I
tried. I really did. But I could never.” Her chest heaved once more and he
removed her hands.

“Juliette. That bastard was sick. There was a hole inside of
him no one could ever fill. Was he your first boyfriend?”

“Yes.”

“He preyed on that. I’ve known men like that. They can’t
handle how out of control their life is, so they focus on someone else.”
Shooter shook his head.

“I know. I know that now. I’m not a complete basket case.
This is just my first time attempting a relationship since. Things triggered
when I didn’t expect them to.”

“Well to be fair, the situation was far from normal.” He
snorted, choking back the chuckle that wanted to crawl up his throat and
escape. “I understand you needing space, but I can’t handle a disappearing act.
I need communication… Jesus, you got me sounding like a pussy.” He shook his
head.

“It’s okay to have feelings.”

“I don’t think I like the role reversal.”

She snickered. “I didn’t much like climbing out of a
bathroom window like a deranged hooker.”

He released a bark of laughter. “I feel that. So we’re
good?”

“Yeah. We’re good. I’ll try to let you know when I’m
flipping out.”

“I’d say I’d try to be less domineering but it’d be a lie.”

She snorted. “You’re lucky you’re so pretty…”

“The word you’re looking for is manly.”

“Dashing, chivalrous?”

“Careful with that fancy talk—your learning is showing.”

“I am a librarian.”

“Speaking of that…Prez said he liked you, told me to bring
the librarian around more often. I think you got yourself a nickname.”

“Really?” she whispered.

“Yeah. You might be stuck with more than just me before it’s
said and done.” She giggled. “What?”

“Just imagining a group of you coming into the library.”

The laughter replaced the sadness. He made a mental note to
look up Peter Stant.

“You’ve seen into my wounds, but I know you have your own.
Why did you chase me?”

He sighed. “Because once I didn’t fight hard enough to keep
something precious and it made me lose everything.”

She studied him carefully but didn’t press him for more. For
now it’d be enough.

Juliette turned to glance over her shoulder as she locked up
the library for the night. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
Maybe
I shouldn’t have let Jeff leave early.
The library sat in the heart of
town. But crime didn’t politely agree to stay in the
bad
areas. Crazy
ran amuck these days.

Gripping her keys, she stuck the pointed ends outward, per
her self-defense classes. A glance assured her there were no cars close to her
own, and the light she’d parked beneath illuminated everything. Chalking it up
to too much late-night thriller reading, she spun around and rushed to the
safety of her black sedan, keeping her guard up. When she reached the driver’s
side, she noticed a sticky note adhered to the car beneath a pink begonia.
Great,
now the serial flower giver has upped his game. Just what I need.
Removing
the note, she began to read and froze.

A flash of heat bloomed in her face and nausea rocked her
stomach like a boat in a storm.

I thought you learned your place. For the past few months
you were my good girl, keeping to yourself. Now you’ve taken up with a miscreant.
I can’t allow that to happen…

She looked up, sure he was somewhere watching her every
move. God, had he been stalking her since their breakup? A chill set in. The
flowers were from him. Suddenly the forget me not’s made sense. The other
flowers had to mean something. Peter Stant never did anything without purpose.
Fumbling with her key, she unlocked the door, climbed behind the wheel, cranked
the car and peeled out.

Peter had returned. Per his usual style, he’d done it with a
bang. Her hands shook as she turned on the speaker system in her phone and
glanced in her rearview mirror to see if anyone followed. He’d driven a black
sports car, but that might have changed.

“Call Shooter.” Her voice shook and cracked, but the machine
understood. When his voicemail picked up, her heart dropped. Not now. She’d
never called him at the club before, but this counted as an emergency. “Call
Club.” The phone rang twice.

“Hello.”

“Can I speak to Shooter?”

“Who wants to know?”

“The librarian.”

“Give me a second.” Rustling sounded in her ear. “Hey,
Shooter. Your old lady’s on the phone.”

“Hey, baby. What’s going on?”

“Peter’s back.”

“Are you okay? What happened? You need me to send some boys
out to the library?”

“N-no. I don’t know. He left a note on my car, said he’s
been watching me for years, and now that I’m seeing you something needs to be
done.”

“That Barbie-looking son of a bitch.”

“You looked him up.”

“Of course I did. I should’ve snapped his fool neck.”

The gravelly tone of his voice soothed her.

“I want you to come to the club now.”

“I’m still dressed for work.”

“I don’t care. Who knows how long he’s been lurking in your
bushes, jacking off while you sleep. I want my boys to head to your house and
check the place out.”

“Okay…but then what am I going to do?”

“You let me worry about that.”

“What if he follows me?”

“I hope that motherfucker does. We’ll have a nice present
waiting for him.”

Turning onto the highway ramp, she gunned the engine. “I’m
scared.”

Shooter’s low growl made her jump.

“I hope you aren’t horrified when this is said and done. As
far as I’m concerned this prick just declared war.”

“He’s crazy, Shooter. I don’t put anything past him.” She
shuddered, thinking of the rages she’d seen him launch into when things didn’t
go his way.

“Then he’s met his match. He’s fucking with the Lords and
one pissed-off Marine.”

His words soothed her. Shooter didn’t say things he didn’t
mean or couldn’t do. Blinding light flooded her rearview and she gasped.

“What’s wrong?”

“Someone’s got their lights on behind me.” She moved into
the other lane, and the car followed. “Oh god. I think it’s Peter.”

“Where are you?”

The steady tenor forced her addled brain to focus. A quick
glance to her left provided her with a viable answer.

“Between Wilshire exit and Monroe.”

“Get off on Monroe, go to the Express gas station right off
the road. I’ll meet you there, park right by the door and no matter what, do
not get out of the car.”

She gripped the wheel tight to keep her car straight as her
body shook. Memories of his forced participation and oppressive control
assailed her. Sucking air in through her nose and letting it out of her mouth,
she managed to make it to the next exit and pull into the gas station.

Parking directly in front of the door, she breathed a sigh
of relief when the car sped past her. She rested her head against the center of
the steering wheel. This time she would not be a victim. He’d exploited her
weaknesses and damn near broken her. She hadn’t spent all that time putting
herself back together only to shatter on impact. This time she wasn’t alone or
isolated. There were people to help her. Empowered and enraged, she sat up
straight. He didn’t have the right to make her feel that way. She’d taken that
back in therapy. Life had taught her she couldn’t dictate the chaos unfolding
around her, but she could control her response to it.

He should be afraid. Her doctor had everything documented.
If anything happened he wouldn’t get away with it. The thought of his tan skin,
brilliant, sky-blue eyes, fine aristocratic features and perfect white smile
made her bare her teeth.

It was time she took her pound of flesh. The last step to
recovery had begun, she was taking her life back. Peter wouldn’t be allowed to
come in and stunt her progress. Alert, she took in her surroundings. The car
behind her had ensured she couldn’t get a glance at it, but she was positive
it’d be a luxury vehicle of some sort—the Stants didn’t do mediocre. His drolly
spoken, “Kitten,” played in her head.

God, I dodged a bullet getting out when I did.
She
would have been bullied, battered, taunted and paraded. Her mother had fawned
over him, oohed and ahhed over his impeccable manners and prestigious
background. Caught up in the fact that this beautiful male had taken an
interest in her, she hadn’t seen the warning signs when they had begun to pop
up.

Like any abusive relationship, it had started off good, too
good, looking back on things. Of course, that was how they got you. The thought
of him trailing her all the time turned her blood cold.

How could I not have noticed? Has he been in the house?
He had enough money to buy anything he wanted, so she didn’t put shit past him.
You didn’t tell him no.
She began a mental checklist of all the things
she’d need to change. Motion sensor lights, new locks, an alarm. The roar of
motorcycles had never sounded so sweet. Craning her neck, she searched the crew
of ten for Shooter.

He pulled up beside her car with his game face on and her
heart soared. Unlocking the car, she stepped out and rushed to him, throwing
her arms around his neck. He smelled like leather, sandalwood and him. Pressing
her face in his neck, she breathed deep.

“You okay, baby?”

“I am now.”

“Did he approach you?”

“No, he drove by. But I know it was him.”

“I want you to lock up your car and come back with me. One
of the prospects will drive your car back.”

Too tired to haggle, she nodded. “Let me just grab my
purse.”

Settled on the back of his bike, pressed against his broad
back, she held him tight and realized Shooter had become her second home.

* * * * *

Fury didn’t even begin to cover how he felt about Peter
Stant. The thought of him watching Juliette’s every move made him see red. He
squeezed the handlebars of the bike to dissipate the energy built up inside
him. The fuck liked picking on those weaker than him. Shooter needed to pay him
a visit and see how he enjoyed being treated like someone’s bitch.

The cool air in his face did nothing to take down his
rocketed core temperature. He wanted to go to Peter’s house, kick down the
door, drag him out and beat the message to stay away into him. But he had to
handle this with finesse. Peter had money and power. He needed to make sure he
caught him alone, away from cameras and witnesses. He’d told Moose what was up
before he’d left and that he’d contacted Tiny. Specs was working on pulling up
everything there was on file about him.

Blackmail could be just as effective as violence. It all
depended on the person’s motivation. Being in the M.C. felt like the military
in a lot of ways. Chain of command, delegation of authority, and looking out
for your family above all. Shooter had taken to it like a duck to water.

Relaxing only when they pulled into the compound, he helped
Juliette off the back, truly seeing her for the first time. The black dress stopped
just above the knee and hugged her curves in all the right places. His gaze
trailed down to the bright-red, three-inch-heel pumps.

“I needed a pop of color.”

Meeting her gaze, he smiled. “Forget hot for teacher—I’m hot
for librarian.” Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulled her to him. “You
okay?” he whispered against her lips.

“Yes. He’ll find I don’t scare so easily.”

Shooter frowned. “I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

“Me either.”

He scoffed.

“If I don’t stand up to him this time, it’ll never stop.
He’ll take over my life again, control where I go, steal my joy and put me
right back where he left me. A basket case, one step away from rocking back and
forth in a chair in the corner.”

“I’m here now to do the heavy lifting.”

“I know. But you can’t wrap me in bubble wrap and put me in
the Popemobile.”

“The what?” He furrowed his brow, pissed she’d chosen now to
launch into an I-am-woman-hear-me-roar crusade.

“You know, the bulletproof square contraption they used to
drive the Pope in.”

“I love it when you talk smart to me.” He wrapped an arm
around her shoulders, and they walked toward the club. Now wasn’t the time to
get into this. He needed her squared away so he could start solving the
problem.

“I was serious about what I said,” she reminded him.

“I know you were. We’ll work it out.”

“If that’s your way of diverting my attention from the
topic, it won’t work.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he assured her.

“I want to learn to shoot a gun.”

His back stiffened. “That’s a huge jump.”

“We both know the police don’t do shit about stalking until
it’s do or die or you have a ridiculous amount of proof, and that’s just for
normal people, which Peter and his family aren’t.”

“You think they know what he’s up to?” The thought disgusted
him.

“No. But he’s Mommy and Daddy’s darling boy, and they’d do
anything to keep him from behind bars and on the most eligible bachelors list.”

They stepped inside the club and he met Moose’s gaze over
her head. Giving a quick nod, he walked her to his bedroom.

“You cleaned up. I’m impressed.” A sweet butt had cleaned
and done the laundry, not that he’d tell her that.

He cleared his throat. “Figured I needed to up my game now.
Tell me what I need to know about Stant. Then I’ll go in and hash things out
with the club and I’ll come get you.”

“First, you can’t shut me out of my own problem, Shooter.”
She crossed her arms beneath her chest and rocked back on her heels.

He held his hands up. “I’m not trying to do that. Do you
trust me?”

“Yes.” Her voice wavered. “Of course. I’m just worried. He
was into some heavy shit. He owned a club with a few buddies. I wasn’t sure
exactly what they had going on. It operated like an illegal sex club. You came
in with a partner, or if you paid the right price one was provided for you.”

“Jesus, human trafficking?” Shooter whispered.

She nodded. “I never knew the inside workings. I got out the
minute it clicked. He kept his
partners
quiet.”

“An operation like that is going to be talked about. Shit.
Where you at the club?”

She swallowed. “T-the last day I walked out and never looked
back. Before I always thought multiple partners were just some fetish he had,
an extracurricular activity he practiced behind closed doors. Then he started
talking about Room 801. I’ve heard of BDSM clubs, so I wasn’t shocked he
frequented a local one. Then he brought me there and I realized just who he was
and what he was capable of.”

“What did you see?”

“I saw one of his exes. Her eyes were dull and haunted. I
knew her from school. She was a sweet girl. There was no reason she’d end up
that way if it weren’t for Peter. Imaging myself in her place terrified me more
than the thought of what he’d do to me if I left. I walked out, changed my cell
phone number, the locks on my house, told my friends and went to some
counseling sessions.”

“Shit, baby.” He wrapped his arms around her, thinking about
how close she’d come to becoming one of the nameless faceless women who got
trapped in trafficking situations.

“You’re the only one who knows everything. I didn’t want to
put the girls in danger, or let him know how bad it actually was.” She licked
her lips. Fine tremors shook her and she held him tight.

“He’s not going to fucking touch you baby. Stay here and I’m
going to talk to the boys. We do things differently around here. They’re holding
the meeting for me right now. I have to go.”

“Okay.” She sank to the bed, looking small and lost. He
wanted to rip Stant’s heart out and feed it to him. How many times had he done
this same thing to other innocent women?

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” He placed a gentle kiss
on her lips and rushed to join the others. Clearing the door, he shut it behind
him and moved to sit beside Moose.