Sexy Bastards Anthology: Bad Boy, Biker, Alpha, Motorcycle Club, Contemporary Romance Collection (54 page)

Perfect
.

Quickly, I unbuttoned and stripped off the white button down shirt I was wearing over my camisole, and pulled on the hot pink one in place of it.

“You like it?” I asked, turning to Kane.

His eyebrows furrowed and his mouth drew into a thin line after he read the sparkly pink and purple words emblazoned across my chest.
Property of No One.

I bought this many years back when I started to get a grasp of one of the traditions in the biker world, the one where motorcycle club members’ girlfriends and wives would wear ‘Property Of’ clothing to indicate which biker they belonged to. My mother had a slew of ‘Property of Banner’ shirts she kept in the bottom of her chest of drawer for years. I’d never been quite as relieved as when she’d thrown them all away. She should have burned them, actually, in order to really seal the deal, but she was hesitant to act on my suggestion.

I’d gotten my own custom made t-shirt years ago, but hadn’t worn it since I was in my late teens and making a serious habit out of being rebellious. Today, it was a little tight around my chest, but it was perfect in serving its purpose and getting a critical message to President Kane Angelo.

“Are you ready?” he asked, ignoring the question. “It’s dangerous to be hanging around here.”

“Let me grab my underwear.”

I turned around again and selectively snatched panties and bras, making no point to hide them from him. I didn’t go for this guy. Or maybe I did.

Shit, maybe it was both.

His presence and his reason for being here infuriated me, that was for sure. Yet I was grabbing only my best undergarments, ones with lace and tiny strings. The comfy underwear with Tweetie Bird and Hello Kitty logo got pushed to the back corner. They weren’t coming along for the runaway party.

I made a quick stop in the bathroom for my toiletries and I was ready to go. Grabbing a stray hair tie that was laying on the sink, I pulled my hair back into a ponytail. My bangs were going to whip around like crazy on the bike, but there was nothing I could do about that. As I looked as my pre-on-the-run self in the bathroom mirror I caught his reflection. He was at the door waiting for me. Our eyes locked, and even when he saw that I had noticed him staring, he did not look away. Those eyes of his raked over my body, and when our eyes met again in the mirror’s reflection, he gave a cryptic laugh.

Son of a bitch.

The guy was probably wondering whether or not he would try to bed me less than fifteen minutes after meeting me, and less than twenty-four hours after my mother’s private cremation.

Dirty bastard.

My mother had done her best to shield me from the biker life after she left my dad, but I had seen enough back then. I knew some of the Rugged Angels had their own codes of conduct when it came to life, business and family. One of those codes was sex was pretty much acceptable at any time, in any place and with any woman they wanted.

“Think again,” I muttered, hoping it was low enough that he couldn’t hear me.

I grabbed the toiletries bag and went through the place again to switch off the lights, finally heading out of my apartment and away from the normal life that my mother had worked so hard to help me experience. Things were changing, and there was not a damn thing I could do about it. Not if I wanted to survive.

Chapter Five

Kim

“Where are we going?” I asked, sliding my hand into each side of the backpack, and centering it across my back. I followed Kane down the walkway. The four other men were waiting on their motorcycles, each looking in a different direction, with what could best be described as heightened security concern.

“To a safe house.” He stopped at his bike and handed me a helmet. “Here, put this on.”

“Seriously?”

“What?”

“I thought hardcore bikers in this state were too cool to wear helmets.”

“Are you twenty one or over?”

“Yes.”

“But you’re not a biker, are you?”

“No.”

“Have you been on a motorcycle at all in your adult life?”

“Well no, but…”

“Then put it on.”

I snatched the helmet from him and my fingers briefly grazed across the top of his hand. That brief accidental contact sent a shockwave of electricity up my arm. Kane didn’t seem to have the same reaction. He didn’t seem to notice at all. He turned around and climbed onto his bike as I bit my tongue and put on the helmet.

“So you’ve never ridden before at all?” he asked over his shoulder after I had climbed on behind him.

“Yes. In my teens,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“Just checking, because your arms aren’t around me.”

“I’m getting to that.”

I resentfully looped my arms around his trim, fit waist.

With his feet still on the ground, he let go of the handlebars and gripped each of my wrists, which were now on his abs. He pulled them around him more tightly.

“Hold on like this, okay? Nice and snug, so we don’t have to scrape you off the interstate.”

In my testy mood, I gripped him and held on as tight as possible, aiming to hurt him or at least cut off some blood circulation. What I did had no effect on him. Not only did he seem unaffected, he seemed to like it. And dammit, my body was reacting to that contact. He was warm and cozy, and he smelled like cedar and fresh air and leather and pure maleness.

From the bike next to us, the younger, dark haired guy that had gone in to check out the apartment snorted.

“This one seems to like you, Kane,” he said, not even looking at me.

Anger surged through me. I leveled my gaze on him to reply but Kane beat me to it. “The firecracker’s got attitude, Kyle, and she’s kinda cute.”

I bit my tongue, ready to deliver a cutting comeback when the bike moved off. Soon we were zooming across the parking lot and down towards the highway, leaving me with plenty of time to think while sitting on the back of Kane’s bike. The two pressing concerns I couldn’t get away from were about my parents. My mother had already been cremated, but the memorial service her best friend had organized was scheduled in two days. What was going to happen with that? Was I going to be able to attend, or was I going to miss it thanks to being stuck in some wretched biker gang safe house? What about my dad? Would he survive his gunshot wound, and if he did, was he planning to be there?

My stomach turned. Running in to him wasn’t something that I ever thought I could look forward to, but today I was ready to overlook the resentment. I desperately needed someone in my corner.

The safe house turned out to be a modest one-story ranch style house in the middle-class suburbs of Tucson. The neighborhood was quiet when we rolled up, save for the barking of a couple dogs. The men moved forward quickly, rolling their motorcycles up the paved side driveway of the house to park in the backyard. Kane pulled a key out of one of his pockets and jiggled the back door open. There was something eerie about the place. It was early at night, but the neighborhood was too quiet. A prickle of fear surged me forward, and I brushed into his back by accident as we stepped inside.

“Oops. Sorry.”

“You didn’t get enough of hanging on to me on back of my bike, did you?” Kane answered.

Geez. I was sure to be engaging in a lot of eye-rolling with this guy.

We got inside the house through the kitchen. Wow. It looked as if it hadn’t been decorated since the seventies. It was a bit like my grandmother’s house before she passed, complete with pastel-colored appliances, tiled wood floors, plug-in candlesticks, crocheted dining table placemats covers, and decorative porcelain ashtrays. I could have walked into a time capsule and just didn’t realize it.

The living room was similar. It had all the necessary furniture, but was devoid of art or anything else that normally showed a personal touch. The rest of the men came inside behind us, and tramped through the kitchen to get to us.

“Does anyone normally live here?” I asked.

“We make it look
like someone lives here year round,” said the guy with unruly brown hair, Big Tom I think. “It’s one of the club members’ job to keep it that way. He keeps a truck parked out back, moves it every once in a while, does yard work, talks to the neighbors. The usual stuff.”

“Your neighbors are not suspicious?” I found it hard to believe.

“People in this neighborhood mind their own business,” Kane answered in a conversation-ending tone, and pointed down the hall. “The bathroom is down that way. It’s attached to the master bedroom at the end of the hall, which you can have. The rest of us will take the other bedrooms and the couches.”

“I’ve got dibs on a bed,” the one called Skate said, moving quickly towards the closest door. “Speed trumps rank tonight, brothers.”

I watched him leave, taking note of the leisurely way he moved and the tightness of his ass. When I turned slightly to shuck my backpack off my shoulders, Kane was looking at me. I turned to him. He was sporting a venomous scowl on his face.

“What?”

He didn’t answer, so I smirked and flounced away, edging down the hallway. I felt my way into the darkness. The master bedroom wasn’t half bad. There was no shag carpet and no floral patterned bedding, at least. The pillows and the comforter looked semi-new, and the floor was a nice, polished wood. The attached bathroom was small but clean, and the first thing I did was strip my clothes off and turn the shower on as hot as I could take it.

I stayed underneath the water for a long time, inhaling the steam and wishing the shower could wash away the chaos and shock and tragedy of the past few days. I was still trying not to think too much. The numbness was setting in, and I felt I needed to stay numb. This was not the time to get pulled down into a hole of self-pity. What had happened couldn’t be changed. Mom was dead, and I was here, in a random safe house that no one really lived in, with five bikers.

One or two of those men happened to be irresistibly hot.

I got dressed in the only pair of pajamas I’d brought, and settled onto the bed, looking around the room while I towel-dried my hair. The bedside clock said that it was nearly one in the morning. I didn’t feel tired at all, my limbs instead full of a sensation that couldn’t be pinpointed. Nervousness? Fear?

A soft knock on the door made me self-conscious.

“Yes?” I asked as I pulled a knitted blanket over my legs. These pajamas were short shorts I’d had since freshman year in high school, and they didn’t exactly cover up much anymore.

“It’s Kane.”

I swallowed hard. “Come in.”

He opened the door hesitantly, hanging back with his hand on the knob.

“You can come in,” I repeated. It was odd to see him waiting for my approval to do something. I’d pegged him as the kind of guy who was always working hard to show his status. Or maybe that was just the way he was in front of the other members of the club.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” he said, walking over to the bed and sitting just a foot away.

I’m not sure why, but I said, “It’s not your fault.” I glanced at him and then looked away quickly. That softness in his eyes was something new. It was way too much to handle. God, he was so hot. That hour on the back of his bike had my body practically humming, his presence alone making me come alive in a way I never had before.

What would he do if I made a move? Kane was not my usual type, and yet that heat couldn’t be denied. I had a thought. Suppose I was to have sex with him. It would only be one time. Hell, maybe it would even be good for me. It would get my mind off of the horrible circumstances of my life. Not only that, it would show Kane I was just as capable of calling the shots as he was.

The temptation to reach over and grab his face or his crotch were still building up when he turned to me.

“Your dad just wants to protect you.”

I sighed. This was so not the conversation I’d been looking for. “He’s done a shitty job of it so far. Just ask my mother…”

Dammit.

I was still in denial.

Surprisingly, Kane pursed his lips and nodded. “That’s a legit reaction.”

I crossed my arms, suddenly no longer in the mood to make a move on him. “What’s going to happen next?”

“We’ll keep moving you around. Make sure we don’t stay in one place for too long.”

“Until when?”

“Until this thing with the Arroyos Bandidos is settled.”

“I have school,” I spat out.

“Surviving comes first. You can’t go to school if you’re dead.”

I bit my lip. Damn him. Damn him and those dreamy eyes. Damn him and that rough stubble, that square jaw, those hard biceps popping out from underneath the hems of his shirt, and those rock solid abs I got to wrap my arms around on the trip over here.

Before I knew it my hand was on his shoulder. He didn’t move, just looked at me, his gaze boring a hole into my face. Eager to act before I chickened out, I leaned forward and brushed my lips softly against his. He opened his mouth in a welcome as I kissed harder, tasting him and reveling in the softness of his tongue when he parted my lips.

I shifted my weight, letting the blanket drop to the floor. Finally having decided to just go for it, I raised up onto my knees. He answered by grasping my waist and swinging me around to straddle his lap, never breaking the contact of our lips for an instant.

A hand trailed up to the back of my head, snaking its way through my damp hair. I pushed my weight forward, pressing my crotch against his. A deep growl that seemed to come up from the depths of the earth traveled through Kane’s body and escaped his mouth, only to make my own lips hum with the reverberations.

I broke off the kiss with a heavy gasp, keeping my face still close to his. “This is just sex.”