Ryder: MC Biker Romance (Great Wolves Motorcycle Club Book 8) (18 page)

The Cadillac Motor Court was a one-story, 1950s-era motel.
Though it looked old, it was still in decent repair. Someone took good care of
it.

Make that one room. She’d booked us one room. I offered to
sleep in the truck, but she was pretty pragmatic about it. It was official.
This dame was trying to kill me, one way or another.

“I need to save money. And don’t worry, I won’t ruin your
reputation and tell anyone. You’ve seen me naked. I think you can see me in my
jammies.” I stiffened at the thought of her “jammies.” What hell was this going
to bring? She changed in the bathroom and came out sporting a huge white
t-shirt that came practically to her knees. It had a black “Dunder Mifflin”
logo on it. I was expecting some gorgeous Marilyn temptation, and instead, it
was a giant t-shirt from The Office.

She caught what must have been my perplexed expression, “I
loved that show! This is my favorite night shirt from it. What?”

I had decided not to tempt fate and took off my shirt but
kept on the jeans. I needed a barrier on the small bed, even if she seemed
oblivious to the torture that being this close to her in this situation was
going to be for me, for any man. She was supposed to be recovering, not romping
around.

I decided to lie on top of the covers, too.

“Do you want to watch t.v.?” she asked.

“Up to you. I don’t really watch t.v.”

“I love it. How about some Nick at Night?” She plopped
herself on the end of the bed and found her channel. Some old t.v. show was
playing, and she said it was perfect.

I closed my eyes and blocked her out, blocked out the damn
show, and tried to get a little shut-eye. I fell asleep to the sounds of a laugh
track and to little bed bounces she produced as she giggled along with the old
sitcom.

I dreamed of her, how her legs would feel wrapped around me,
how I would give her the tenderness I’d seen no one display toward her since
we’d met. And then it turned from sweet to hot. I dreamt of her magnificent
breast in my mouth, of sinking into her. It was beautiful.

And then it wasn’t a dream. I awoke and looked down. The
television was still on quietly, and it provided a soft illumination in the
room. Marilyn was no longer watching. She’d dozed off, and draped herself over
me. She had curled one leg into mine. Her shirt had ridden up around her waist,
revealing that round ass in the most modest of white cotton underwear. Sexier
than any of the thongs I’d seen.

She had found a spot and rested her head perfectly in the
juncture of my neck and shoulder. Her breasts pressed softly through the
t-shirt onto my chest. She was peacefully asleep and fit with me like no one
I’d ever been with.

I pulled her closer, one hand resting just inside those
cotton panties, just barely. I wouldn’t go further. She moaned in her sleep and
snuggled closer in. She nuzzled her lips on my chest and goddamn it then she
kissed me. Though she was asleep, she was maybe having the same dream.

“Hmmm. Lincoln.” She murmured my name in her sleep. If the
sitcom actor could see through the decades to right now, through the television
screen, he would have seen a contented smile on my face as I too returned to
dreamland, wrapped up in her.

Check out
Lincoln McCall
’s
wild romance!

Ready for your next adventure with the bad boys of the Great
Wolves M.C? Good. Don't miss Nash! Prepare to get swept away to the crystalline
waters of Florida’s Emerald Coast.

Jenna - Nash was the outlaw I never should have loved. His
touch…hard and tender in all the right ways…rocked me to my core. I didn’t want
to leave him but I had no choice. But now, I’ve got nowhere left to run and no
one else to turn to. When he finds out I had his baby, all hell’s going to
break loose. It’s only a matter of time.

Nash - When Jenna walked into my bar, I knew what she was
after. A good girl gone wild looking for a spring break fling. Yeah, I was down
for that. I never planned on letting her get under my skin like she did. I
don’t blame her for leaving. She didn’t need some badass biker ruining her
plans. My President’s patch comes with a price she shouldn’t have to pay. But
now she’s back and she’s got a secret. So do I. This time, I’m playing for
keeps.

Click
here
to find out more about Nash!

Cassidy

What do you wear to work when you’re a receptionist at an
MMA gym? At the restaurant it was easy, when she bussed tables it was black
pants and a t-shirt, and then they gave her a polyester dress to wear after she
got promoted to waitress. But now? It’s not like there were many choices. The
studio had a small closet and her entire “wardrobe” hung inside along with her
coat.

She did a quick inventory: A couple of pairs of jeans,
turtlenecks, a sweater, a dress, and so few pairs of shoes. She could pack her
entire closet into one suitcase. The few nice things she had were
hand-me-downs. Again she owed Bess. Bess was taller by several inches, but
she’d cleaned out her “work” closet and handed the extra clothes to Cassidy.
That’s why she even owned a skirt. There was also one dress that Bess insisted
on, it was the “little black” dress she wore when she graduated high school and
only Bess attended.

She decided jeans it was if Whitey wanted her to dress nicer
he’d tell her. Maybe it was time for a trip to Goodwill for some stuff? Wearing
different clothes was an expense she didn’t want to deal with and hadn’t
realized she’d face until this very moment.

It would be a cold walk, but the gym was hot so she went
with belted jeans, a blouse, her boots and the duster under her coat. Whitey
didn’t seem to be one to worry about that sort of thing so she hoped it was
okay.

Wardrobe handled she rifled through her kitchen, which was
really a sink, a mini-stove, and a small fridge. Saving money also meant
skipping meals. She’d lost weight in the two weeks since the restaurant closed
since she could usually get some free food at that job. Today she had a packet
of cup-a-soup and an apple. Free food was definitely something she’d taken for
granted after it was gone. She filled a water bottle and figured she was set
for the day.

The GWG was a ten-minute walk. In the daytime, this was no
big deal. At night, well, she wouldn’t tell Bess that one.

Whitey greeted her when she arrived.

“Good morning girlie,” he said with his gravelly voice as he
assessed her desk area.

“Is eight too late?” She worried since it looked like things
were well underway in the gym. Fighters dotted several areas already.

“I always get in at 5 to open. You can help me by getting in
at 8 and staying later than I do to close. I could get home in time to make
Mrs. Whitey happy for a change.”

“Okay.”

“So here’s the job, most days I’m too busy to tell you what
to do. Today I will. After this, you figure it out most of the time.”

“Got it.”

“You set these computers up and then these files,” Whitey
indicated a file cabinet that was as tall as she was, “They need to be uh, dig
ah, digee? What’s the word?”

“Digitized?”

“Yep, that paperless thing the GWG bosses want. You’re going
to make sure the members’ cards get swiped. That’s new, the cards, and you’ll
make sure they’re paid up, handle their forms, answer phones, help get the word
out on events and just deal with GWG corporate. My grandson was doing a bunch
of this stuff, but he’s got to focus on training. That’s him over there.”
Whitey pointed to a short, stocky fighter rapidly hitting a punching bag.

“Jessie, wave to Cassidy!” Whitey bellowed. The fighter
lifted a gloved hand towards her in salute.

“Now back to work.” Whitey barked at his grandson.

“We got a lot of siblings, father-son, and such in here,
fighting runs in families.”

“I see.”

“I’m going to get over to the ring, if you have a question,
ask. And here’s the number to the guy to talk to from GWG management, Sawyer.
It’s California so they won’t be up for what? Is it three hours? Who the hell
knows?”

“I’ll get going.”

“Good. There’s a hook over there for your coat. And we got a
fridge and microwave in the back. Though it don’t look like you eat at all,
girlie.”

“I do fine.” Whitey narrowed his eyes at her and turned to
the two in the ring. It was clear he didn’t miss much.

“You two. Is that the intensity I can expect today? You look
like you’re under water. Step it up.” Whitey walked to the ring and it was then
that Cassidy noticed who was in it — Craddock and another guy that looked
nearly as dangerous. Most of the men in this placed looked like they could
remove your limbs with their bare hands.

Cassidy watched as the slow sparring Whitey complained about
got fast and violent. She was transfixed as Craddock Flynn jabbed and charged
while his opponent tried to fend him off. He backed his sparring partner up
against the ropes and paused. Craddock looked her right in the eyes and
finished it. A punch to the jaw had his sparring partner with his hands up and
in what was a purely defensive stance.

“Okay, okay, no need to kill him. Jonesy, you step over to
the bags. Craddock, get some water, then partner up with Jessie after he’s
warmed up and work on your holds a little. I want to see if you’re finishing
that choke or not.”

Whitey was barely done giving the orders when Craddock Flynn
jumped out of the ring and strode across the gym to where Cassidy was trying to
pretend they hadn’t locked eyes.

“Good morning, Cassidy. You look gorgeous today.”

“Good morning, and don’t you think gorgeous is a little bit
of an overkill in the compliment department?”

Gorgeous?  She blushed pretty much everywhere. This man’s
lines worked on her, she realized. Even if she was working hard not to show
it. 

“You are. I like your hair like that in a bun, like mine.
Though I liked it down yesterday, too.” She touched a tendril that had escaped.

“You going into hairdressing if this fighting thing doesn’t
work out?” She was trying to keep a tough exterior around him. Though he looked
like the toughest thing in the city, she had her own brand of tough. She
figured she better use it or be another notch on this guy’s fight belt.

 “No. I’m just into your hair. A lot of it there for such a
little package underneath.” She was embarrassed. He probably fawned over the
big-boobed, booty-shaking types. She was more in the Anna Kendrick size
department.

“I do just fine.”

“I bet. And you look just fine. See you later, Cassidy. Oh,
and thanks for watching me work out. I like it. You looking at me turns me on.”
Craddock winked, then turned and headed to the mat where they were working on
what was the word? Oh yeah, grappling. She inferred that meant wrestling. He
really did love himself. But unfortunately, he was right. She couldn’t take her
eyes off him.

She spent the morning getting the computer set up. By mid-day,
she had it up and running.  She took a phone call with the California manager
of GWG, Sawyer, on what they wanted regarding membership and other forms
online. She even started entering membership information on each fighter who
worked out there. Once they were all in, all they’d need is a new magnetic card
to swipe.

Whitey came over at one point to check on her.

“You came in on the right day. I was getting heat to get
this stuff done and now you’re almost finished!”

“We can start issuing the cards tomorrow and by the end of
the week everyone will just swipe and we’ll be able to keep track without all
the files cabinets.”

“Good work. You’re a smart little cookie. Pretty as a
picture too. Anyone too fresh?”

“No, sir. I’m fine.” She decided not to let him know that
Craddock kept catching her eye and looked like he would eat her alive. Along
with that, she’d had winks from quite a few of the other guys, the terms
sweetheart, hottie, and darling were flung at her from all directions. She
decided it was part of the job and harmless. She’d told them her name was
Cassidy, not sweet cheeks, and that usually took care of it. Except in
Craddock’s case.

At around 1 p.m. she realized she hadn’t eaten and laid her
little lunch out on the desk as she continued to enter the gym members into the
new database she’d set up with the GWG guidelines. There were about 100
members, mostly men, but a few badass women. She may need to watch them a
little closer too, badassery could come in handy in this place, she thought.

Cassidy jumped in her chair a little when Zeke Powell pounced
over and sat on the side of her desk. He had his own lunch in hand and a mouth
full of food. Powell’s light hair and skin were the perfect counterpoint to
Craddock’s dark hair and deeper skin tone. They were opposite and the same in a
lot of ways. While Craddock had tats on his back, Zeke Powell had just one, a
cross, on his shoulder. He was the cleanest cut of the bunch, she’d decided.

“I thought we’d have a lunch date together,” Zeke said
between bites.

“Oh really?” Somehow his hitting on her was less laden with
sex. It was a relief to some degree. Zeke, while just as muscle-bound as
Craddock, didn’t act like he was picturing her naked.

“Not exactly doing a good job of a balanced lunch there,
Cassidy.” Zeke smiled at her and she couldn’t help but smile back. She liked
him.

“I suppose not. What’s your lunch today?”

“Two turkey sandwiches on rye, two apples, a bag of chips,
don’t tell Whitey, and a cookie. Also, half a gallon of Gatorade. My momma knows
what I like.”

“Well, you’re lucky, then. What does momma or daddy do?”

“He’s a pastor and she’s the pastor’s wife. Sort of a full-time
job, too.”

“I see, and you beat people up for a living? Not too
Christian of you.” Cassidy took a sip of her water bottle.

“Well it’s my talent, fighting, and Jesus doesn’t want us to
hide our talents, so actually, not fighting is the sin.”

“Interesting. Never thought of it that way.” Cassidy was
done with her meager lunch and carefully dumped the crumbs from her napkin into
the nearby garbage can. She folded the brown bag so she could use it tomorrow.
It was still good.

“What do you do? Any hobbies besides dealing with us here at
GWG?”

“I’m a fourth-degree black belt in jui-jitsu so there’s
that.” She gave him a wink like he’d done to her earlier.

“That actually would help around here. We’re an overwhelming
bunch and aren’t used to having someone who smells so fresh in our midst.”

“Well thank you, soap and shampoo, quite the beauty secret.”

“Craddock Flynn seems to like it just fine. You’re a really
nice girl, can I offer a friendly warning?” Zeke had gotten serious all of a
sudden.

“We’re friends?”

“I hope so. We’re practically BFFs now that we eat lunch
together. It’s our thing.” Zeke Powell was funny, she had to give him that.

“Okay, what’s the friendly warning?”

“Be really careful with Craddock. He comes on strong and
he’s dangerous. He’s got a not-so-friendly side. Let me know if he gets fresh.”

“Fresh? Is this 1956? Thank you, but I’m good. Besides, fourth-degree
black belt, remember?”

“Oh yes, very scary!” They laughed. It felt good to laugh
with Zeke.

“You know, you’re welcome to come to visit the chu-”

“Is he bothering you? Why don’t you get your fat ass off her
desk and show some respect?”

“You’re being an asshole, as usual, the lady and I are on a
lunch date.” Cassidy watched as Zeke Powell seemed to enjoy instigating anger
in Craddock. It did not seem like a what-would-Jesus-do characteristic. But
Craddock was no saint, either. Zeke stood up and the two men were chest to
chest. All of a sudden her cup-a-soup “date” with Zeke was turning into World
War Three. If these two got her fired…

“Lunch date? Don’t flatter yourself.” Craddock said. It
didn’t look like either man was planning on backing down. Cassidy saw a flurry
of movement out of the corner of her eye. Maybe Whitey had noticed the ruckus.
Shit.

“Zeke, thank you, I
need this job.” It was her way of begging them to cool it. She shot a look
toward Whitey, who appeared irritated by the distraction her presence had
caused. Zeke caught her meaning, thank God. Maybe God was on his side, after
all.

Zeke broke off the stare down with Craddock, releasing the
tension between the two men to some degree. “Back off Craddock. We don’t want
to get her in trouble. And Cassidy, thanks for lunch.” The two men eyed each
other. Would they have fought right there if she hadn’t asked Zeke to think of
her job?

Clearly the two fighters hated each other and it wasn’t just
about who had lunch with her. She wondered what it was about. Zeke eased away
from her work area.

Craddock looked at her now that Zeke was clearly stepping
back.

“He’s the snake in the garden. Trust me on that.”

Zeke rolled his eyes at the warning. “Whatever Flynn. You’re
over reacting as usual.”

“Fuck off.”

Zeke sauntered over to the free-weight area of the gym.
Cassidy felt grateful that Zeke understood her distress. Craddock on the other
hand…

“We were just eating our lunches.” Why she felt like she
needed to explain this to Craddock Flynn, she had no idea.

“You’re not dating anyone in here, but me.” Craddock
crouched down to her level and then grabbed the arms of her rolling office
chair and jerked it toward him. Shocked, she inhaled sharply as she swerved forward.

“I’m not dating anyone in here, period.” It was a whisper
and sounded more seductive than she’d planned.

“We’ll see.” He ran a finger along her jawline, down her
chin, to the hollow spot at the base of her neck. A part of her wanted to reach
out with her mouth and draw it in. What what she thinking?? She was at work,
not out to find a boyfriend.

“As soft as I thought it would feel.”

She swallowed hard and pushed her chair back away, leaving
Craddock slightly out of reach. He fixed an almost mean gaze on her, and she
felt goose bumps rise up on her arms. She hoped he didn’t notice that.