Exquisite Danger (10 page)

With a sigh, I shrugged my pack on, grabbed my duffle, locked the doors and set the alarm. After taking a deep breath, I turned back to where the men continued to talk intently as they slowly walked together, now almost directly in front of the clubhouse. I started to make my way to them, but before I got very far, the front door of the clubhouse opened. An older, stunning, blonde woman dressed in a sparkling raspberry cocktail dress and mega high heels came strolling out with a cigarette dangling from her cardinal-red lips. Her hair had been teased into a helmet of shellacked dark blonde. She wore a lot of makeup and had a worn-out, jaded air about her. Well, until she spied the men. Then her face lit up, and she pitched aside her half-smoked cigarette before launching herself at Smoke with a squeal and a bubbly, “Hey sugar. I missed you! Been too long since you been up here to visit. We’re gonna have fun tonight. I’ve got five other girls lined up begging to get face-fucked.”

Smoke stared at her in shock and loathing as she hauled herself up his body with her hands clasped around his neck, then wrapped her legs around his waist. To my utter disgust, her skirt rode up, revealing that she wasn’t wearing any underwear. Smoke gave her a startled look before she planted a kiss right on his lips. A low growl escaped me, and my temper didn’t just flare, it exploded in a jealous rage. I pulled her off of Smoke by her crispy, hairspray-coated hair even as Smoke shoved her away him with a repulsed snarl. Between the two of us, we had that nasty bitch on her ass on the ground in a heartbeat. I was yelling at her before she took her next breath. “Get your fucking skank hands off of him!”

“You fucking, stupid twat!” she screeched while trying to pick herself up in those ridiculous high heels. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

None of the men went to help her, but Smoke held me back when I was about to launch myself at her when she flipped me off. More sluts came pouring out of the club, all dressed in some version of what passed for party-time-whore. They gave me curious looks, their gazes pinging between me and Smoke. A few gaped at me and I gritted my teeth when I heard Sarah’s name whispered from dozens of lips in a hiss.

The blonde on the ground stood up and started to come at me, but Hulk threw his arm out and grabbed her around the waist, hauling her to his side. He spoke in a low, even voice. “Don’t fuckin’ do it, Tila. You two may go way back, but that’s Smoke’s old lady, not one of his girls.”

For a brief moment pain flashed through her gaze. “What?”

Instead of answering her, Hulk turned his hardened gaze on the other women hovering around with more than a few giving me a very unfriendly looks. “Listen up, bitches. This is Swan. She’s Smoke’s old lady and Beach’s sister-in-law. You better not give her any shit or you’ll be answering to me, got it? Now get your fuckin’ asses inside and take care of my brothers.”

Smoke’s hold on me loosened enough that I could move a little bit and I sucked in a deep breath. My temper strained against the mental leash I’d put on it, and I hated the shaky feeling that came from an extended burst of adrenaline. Breaker watched all of us in silence, his face expressionless except for a slight frown turning down the edges of his pretty lips. I met his gaze and his eyes had resumed that flat, scary look. He slowly shook his head before speaking in a near whisper, “You’re gonna be trouble.”

Before I could stop myself, my snark came out full force. “As long as none of those sluts leave their slime on my man, we’re all good.”

Hulk laughed while Smoke sighed heavily enough that his chest pressed into my backpack. “Babe…”

Not feeling the least bit contrite I glared up at him, glad Tila apparently wore kiss-proof lipstick. Just the thought of her mouth on his, of her germs festering on his lips, and my blood boiled again. “We need to disinfect your mouth where she touched you.”

Smoke closed his eyes and his nostrils flared. “Chill out, babe. Nothin’ to get upset about. You’re my old lady, the only woman I’ll ever be with again. That bitch does not matter. Understand?”

Conscious of the two men watching us with interest, and remembering Smoke’s warnings about lipping off, I managed to say in what I hoped was a meek voice, “Sorry.”

The deep rumble of Hulk’s laughter rolled through the now empty yard. “Damn, you remind me of Sarah.”

Eager for the distraction, I glanced at him. “Do you know her?”

“Met her at Sturgis a few years ago when she was beating some chick’s ass, and she’s been up here a time or two with Beach. Nice lady, would give you the shirt off her back if you needed it-as long as you were on her good side. Piss her off and watch out, she’ll tear you a new asshole without breaking a sweat.”

I vaguely remembered that Sarah had to do a publicity tour with
Playboy
when she was the centerfold for their biker bitches edition, and I wanted to ask more about Sarah, but Smoke cut me off. “Let’s take this shit inside. Khan here?”

The momentary lightheartedness went out of Hulk’s expression. “Yeah, he’s here.”

He turned without another word, and I noticed for the first time that his Iron Horse MC vest had the words ‘Master at Arms’ on the back just like Smoke’s did, but it didn’t have the three-bar patch that Smoke wore on the front of his vest. The bottom rocker on Breaker’s vest had his name instead of a rank, and I wondered what his job was within the club. The three men surrounded me as we entered the clubhouse, and I had a brief glimpse of walls hung with neon beer signs, American flags, Iron Horse MC flags, and sluts with more bikers sitting on wide, battered, leather couches along with three pool tables and a couple dart boards. Instead of pool balls on the green felt surfaces there was a woman in a tiny denim skirt being rather vigorously fucked by one man while giving another a blowjob.

I must have made a sound because Smoke shot me an undecipherable look while Hustler moved to block my line of sight. Why the hell did all of the Iron Horse guys have to be so big? It was like trying to look through a wall. All around us, the party raged and men began to shout out to Smoke, basically treating him like he was the shit. Smoke raised his hand in greeting and said hi to a few of the guys, but he didn’t stop to talk, and for that, I was thankful. There were a lot of people in this party space that took up almost the whole first floor. A vast bar, tended by women in tiny vests with huge tits, sat against the opposite wall. There was a big mirror behind it, and I caught glimpses of more sexual activity going on in the dimly lit area of the room. I promised myself I would never sit on any of these couches.

A woman in shorts small enough to pass for panties scurried up and said in a squeaky voice, “Can I get you something to drink, Smoke?”

He shook his head and gave her a small smile while she tried to keep up with our long strides. “I’m good.”

I decided that studying Smoke was a safer bet than exposing myself to the depravity surrounding me. As much as I loathed it, I had to admit to myself that I was one of those stupid bitches who couldn’t handle her jealousy. I hated every woman who looked at him with lust in their eyes, wondering if he’d fucked them and or if he’d smiled at them like he smiled at me in bed. A bitter taste filled my mouth as the unwelcome picture of him fucking Tila, making her orgasm, and her falling asleep in his arms while he held her.

For once, Smoke appeared too distracted to notice me, and I wasn’t sure how to handle his lack of attention. I’d grown so used to being the center of his universe that I felt bereft at how withdrawn he appeared. Maybe he was really pissed about the incident out front, and I promised myself I would try harder to hold my temper. The chilling thought that I’d reacted like my Dad sent a shiver down my spine. I was barely aware when we took a wide set of stairs guarded by two stone-faced bikers to the second level. They were slightly older than the majority of the guys downstairs, and I got a distinct feeling that they were all business.

The two floors were so different that I did a double-take as I gazed around me. The landing with another set of stairs leading to the third floor was big enough that a black leather couch and table had been set up beside the stairs on the gleaming oak floors. The walls were off-white and there was no graffiti or posters, just a large, framed Iron Horse MC flag that had seen better days. I was sure there was some story about how it got so beat up, and I let myself be distracted by fanciful musings. I admit it, I sometimes hide inside my head when things get too stressful. Without a doubt this was a dangerous thing. My father used to flip his shit when I’d space out in the middle of his training, but I don’t process stimuli in the same way most people do.

I often wondered if my unease around strangers was worse because I’d been raised in the middle of nowhere. Even so, the members of the compound all had a communal meal together at least once a month, and hundreds of people attended, not to mention my parents’ friends and their kids stopping by. Someone was always celebrating something. Even at the compound, among people I’d grown up with, I would have to seek out space to do what I liked to think of as updating my software with new information. While I did this, my mind would go into kind of a wandering state that was like dreaming even though I was awake. I wouldn’t see the world around me or pay it much attention, instead reliving snapshots of my day. Afterwards, I would always feel better and be able to handle people again, but during that time I was kind of useless.

I’d retreated into that dream-like state, and I guess that’s why I didn’t register the guys with machine guns at first. They were guarding the entrance to a hallway leading to what looked like a high-end office. We passed them, and they both nodded to Smoke with looks of extreme respect. They gave me quick, curious glances but didn’t say anything. The men parted to reveal an intimidating guy who was probably in his late fifties, early sixties. He had a full head of silver hair cut into a flattop and a rocking Fu-Manchu mustache that hung past his tanned chin. Deep lines radiated from the corner of his eyes and his hands were tanned and weathered. As his dark gaze took me in, I thought I detected some Asian ancestry. He wasn’t particularly handsome, but he was commanding and definitely intimidating. As I came out of my waking dream state, the filter on my mouth had yet to engage, and to my horror, I found myself speaking my thoughts out loud.

“Do they call you Khan as in
Star Trek
or as in a Mongolian king?”

Miguel ‘Smoke’ Santos

I held back a groan as Khan stared at Swan, obviously thrown off his stride by her question.

Welcome to my world.

That gorgeous creature kept me constantly on my toes, asking me questions or doing things that caught me by surprise. I’m good at reading people, one of the things that have kept my evil ass alive over the years. Swan was like a complex, intricately beautiful, confusing million-piece puzzle. At first, her thoughts seemed totally random, but I quickly realized that Swan saw the world differently than I ever would, and she was truly brilliant as well as easily distracted. She’d ask me things sometimes that made no sense to me at the moment, but as I thought about it later, I could almost see the leaps of logic she took. It made her endlessly fascinating to me even if I wanted to gag her at times like this one.

Khan wasn’t exactly a nice guy. He didn’t tolerate bullshit from anyone and was utterly ruthless about the defense of his club and family. I did a run with him once where we were picking up some shit from a dealer out in the middle of nowhere in Colorado. The bastard, all jacked up on coke, had tried to get mouthy with Khan and give us inferior product. That shit did not fly with Khan, and before I knew it, Khan had shot the two bodyguards and had the dealer’s hand pinned to the table with a knife that held him in place as Khan beat the hell out of him. I’ve seen and done a bunch of shit, but that was a brutal beating even by my standards. Afterward, Khan went home to his sweet little PTA wife and kids with the dealer’s blood still under his fingernails.

The really fucked up thing was that Khan had left the doors to the dealer’s cabin open so the wildlife could get to him and his dead bodyguards.

With those thoughts in mind, I moved to shove Swan behind my back in case Khan flipped out, but Khan gave me an odd look before turning his attention back to Swan. “Which one do you think?”

My entire body tensed and I quickly glanced around the room, cataloging items I could use as weapons. Khan was fucking touchy about his pride and just because you were a woman didn’t mean he’d let you get away with shit. Yeah, we were friends, but business was business, and Khan was big on maintaining his reputation as a psycho. He said once that his reputation was what kept his family safe. I understood that, but I was almost afraid of what kind of honest shit was going to come from Swan’s mouth that might set him off before he realized she truly meant no harm.

Instead of answering right away, she looked around the room, giving me a glimpse of her perfect profile and smooth, tanned skin. Shit, even now, I couldn’t wait to get inside of her, to make her scream my name while I fucked her, made her mine, but none of that was going to happen if I couldn’t keep her safe. With that in mind, I began to calculate ways to incapacitate my brothers long enough to get my woman out of here.

Agitation filled me and it took a great deal of effort to remain still and store the energy necessary if I needed an explosion of movement and power. I started to sink into my killing zone, that headspace I’d learned to access while in the Marines and used more often than I liked with Iron Horse. I tried to keep the violence inside of me from detonating by focusing on the golden fall of Swan’s hair down to the sexy nip of her slender waist, to the cradle of her hips where she would someday carry my children.

She’s the future I’ve always wanted, and the prospect of growing old with her kept me from crossing the line from man to killer.

On some level, I knew I was overreacting, but I just wasn’t rational about Swan and fury filled me at the thought of anyone harming her.