Sexy Bastards Anthology: Bad Boy, Biker, Alpha, Motorcycle Club, Contemporary Romance Collection (62 page)

Katie’s not the usual rich girl and Morgan’s not your typical biker. The two collide at a bar, and again after Morgan leaves the scene of a terrible crime. Falling for one another is inevitable, but when the truth of who Katie is comes out, will it change everything?

Billionaire Biker

Book 1

http://www.amazon.com/dp/

Billionaire Ransom

Book 2

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01AL0XPZU

Billionaire Misery

Book 3

http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01AL0XC7Q

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Tall, lean and curved in all the right places. Her breasts were on full display in a crisp red top that contrasted perfectly with her wide-legged white slacks. Her blondish-brown hair had been twisted into a perfect fishtail braid and the expensive, oversized sunglasses on her face hid her eyes but not her straight nose or full, lush mouth.

She was definitely in the wrong place. Morgan had seen her type before, curious rich girls from the other side of town slumming it up in the biker bar, grabbing their chests in excitement as they eagerly stepped in the door, blinking from the strong sunlight outside.

None of them ever dared to cross that threshold during the night hours, they came in the day—usually with one or two of their friends, all of them giggling madly at their own daring. Morgan tossed back a shot and watched her. He wasn’t the only one. Heads turned all over the place.

During the day the crowd was not so much biker as it was folks who just liked to ride. There was a definitive difference. Most of the people seated at the tables or who bellied up to the bar didn’t wear a patch, and if they did, those colors belonged to small obscure clubs, little vanity clubs made up of rich guys who wanted to be bikers on the weekends, and hedge managers during the week. The woman strolling across the floor fit in with them, for all he knew she was there to meet one of them.

Her perfume hit his nose. It was spicy and rich, and her ass was on full display as she leaned across the bar, causing those pants to pull taut across the pert slopes of her bottom. His eyes went right to those firm, uplifted cheeks.

Her voice, a sweet and slightly husky thing, filtered through the air as she said, “I’d like Maker’s Mark and a twist of lemon. Just a twist, not a huge wedge please.”

Jack, the burly bartender, gave her a filthy look and stalked off. Her red-hued nails tapped the bar. Morgan shook his head and took another sip of his drink. He had more important things to think about than this woman, but he couldn’t seem to get his mind off her, or his eyes either.

“He’s probably going to give me the whole damn lemon.”

There was amusement in her voice. Her fingers lay on the bar and he stared down at them before saying, “You’ll be lucky if he only gives you one.”

“Damn! Hoisted by my own petard. Or pickiness. Whichever suits the current situation.”

He chuckled, surprised by her wit. She whipped the glasses off to reveal a set of baby-blue eyes surrounded by a thick fringe of black lashes. He looked away. He had to keep his mind focused. Dealing with Craig was always tricky, dealing with Craig when he’d pulled some dumb-fuck move that could get the whole club in trouble was worse. The last thing he needed was to be distracted.

But what a freakin’ beautiful disaster of a distraction.

Jack came back and plunked a heavy tumbler filled with two fingers of whiskey onto the counter. He held the lemon half up in the air and gave it a hard twist. Morgan winced as a long squirt of lemon juice filled the glass, causing the lovely amber whiskey to turn cloudy.

Jack said, “With a twist, just like you ordered.”

Her hand shot out. She picked up the glass and turned it up, drinking down the vile-looking concoction. She set the glass down and gave Jack a creamy smile. “Perfect. Thanks. How much?”

She had guts. Morgan admired that and he saw the unwilling grin tugging at Jack’s lips. Morgan leaned in. “I got it.”

Jack nodded and walked away.

Her head turned. “Thanks but that’s not necessary.”

A closer look revealed her youth. Early twenties. Morgan grinned and shook his head. “I can’t believe you drank that.”

Her smile widened, revealing square white teeth. “I won’t believe it either later, I’m sure.”

He laughed, he couldn’t help it. He also couldn’t help asking, “No offense but what brought you in here, to the Orphan Pint bar?”

She sighed. “I’m escaping my boss.”

“I see.”

She checked her watch and rolled her eyes. “I should probably get back.”

“Or quit your job.”

“Wouldn’t that be nice? Just chuck it all and walk away.”

“It is.” His eyes met hers. “What do you do, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Her teeth went to her bottom lip. “I’m an assistant.”

“Like a personal assistant?”

“Yes.” She thought for a moment and added, “For the Wilkes family.”

He grimaced. “Ouch. I would’ve pegged you as one of them.”

Her face showed consternation. “Oh no, no. Not even.”

Her hand came out and he took it. Her skin was soft and her nails scratched along the palm of his hand, lightly. So she wasn’t a rich girl slumming. Even better. He didn’t have anything against the very rich, he just didn’t have anything for them either. He took another look at her clothes. Personal assistant? That explained the clothes. To work for the rich one had to look rich.

“Is this a permanent escape?” His fingers closed over hers even more tightly.

“I wish!” She glanced down at her cell. “That’s them now. I have to go.”

“Come back soon.” His smile widened. “It’s pretty amusing to watch you confound Jack.”

“Jack?”

He indicated the bartender with a lift of his chin.

She gave him an impish grin. “I’ll come back. Maybe I’ll order some disgustingly cute drink and ask for an umbrella. The forecast calls for rain all week.”

Then she was gone.

Her perfume hung on the air, a phantom reminder. He leaned a little closer to where she’d stood and took a slow appreciative sniff before settling back into his chair. He turned his mind back to Craig, but running through his thoughts was a single one.

He really hoped she came back.

**

Katie dashed back across the street, her expensive bag banging into her hip. She crossed at the intersection and stared up at the tall glass and concrete building right before her. Wilkes Enterprises, one of the largest corporations in the entire country, and number thirty-six in the world.

She sighed and slid into the revolving doors, letting them spit her back out into the echoing marble and teak foyer. The desks were elegant, curved, and manned by beautiful women and men. Armed security strolled nonchalantly past potted plants and artwork.

Katie didn’t want to go back to her office, not at all, but she knew she had to. Her father, Blake Wilkes, would be there soon.

She got into a private elevator and used her key to close the doors and send it skyward. She leaned her head back against the wall, a slight smile on her face. The man at the bar had intrigued her. Even sitting down he’d been tall. His black hair hung in messy waves across his high forehead and his eyes had been a piercing hazel. His voice, that low sexy baritone rumble, had made shivers run down her spine.

He’d told her to come back and she wanted to, but she knew she couldn’t. She’d lied about who she was, but she’d done it reflexively. It was a rough place, and her parents had always raised her to worry about potential kidnappings and other security risks.

Of course, her bag, her designer sunglasses, and the thousand-dollar shoes decorating her narrow feet had probably been a dead giveaway that she had money. She looked at her reflection in the polished brass wall and winced. She looked like exactly what she was, a spoiled rich woman. He was probably sitting there laughing his ass off at her right now.

He wasn’t like the men she knew, not at all. There’d been an air of danger about him that had made him even sexier. She knew he wasn’t one of the men who worked at the company, she’d spotted a few of them hanging around in the bar. They liked to pretend to be badasses. The man she’d spoken to had been a badass.

Little shivers ran through her body as she stepped out of the elevator and into her spacious, well-appointed offices. She closed the door firmly and took a look around at the thick carpet and impressive view, the teak desk and the solid gold pen lying in a holder engraved with her name.

It was a prison.

A very beautiful prison, just like her luxury apartment. Katie sighed and dropped her bag into a drawer then wandered to a window. The door opened softly but she heard it and she tensed.

“Kathleen, I called you over half an hour ago.”

She didn’t turn around. “Sorry Father, I was out.” She then turned, forcing a smile.

Blake Wilkes was blond, tall and imposing. Katie had heard him described as glacial and she could understand why. His hair was thick and perfectly blond, his eyes were a light clear blue, and he always wore a distant expression. Not just distant either, cold. There was an iciness that hung all over him, and that chill emanated toward her, making her want to cross her arms or excuse herself.

“I trust you’re enjoying being in charge of the Valley project.”

No, she was not enjoying it. In fact, she hated it. It bored her senseless. She’d known it would. She’d been groomed for this position her whole life and now, at the age of twenty-five, she was seriously wishing she’d rebelled in college, that she’d gone against what her parents expected and taken the major she’d really wanted to take—Art.

She hadn’t though. She’d majored in Finance and she’d put aside her dreams of running away to Paris or Italy to come to work in the business that had sustained her family through seven generations.

Her mind flashed back to the man at the bar. He’d smelled like streaming wind and whiskey, motor oil and leather. It was the most exciting smell she’d ever inhaled in her entire life, and she had the craziest urge to plead a headache and run right back out of the office and into the bar—and his arms.

She realized her father was still speaking and she forced herself to concentrate.

He said, “I don’t need to tell you how important this is, or how great a responsibility I have given you.”

Resentment spiraled up. She thought,
You don’t have to but you will
.

She was correct there because he added, “I know you don’t like me checking up on you Kathleen but I need to see the paperwork.”

She gave him her biggest smile. “But, of course, Father.” She booted up her desktop, opened the files and hit print. Paper spit into the tray of the printer, shattering the silence that had sprung up. Blake began taking the papers out, reading them as they hit the tray. His face betrayed nothing.

Katie knew she’d done the best job she could on that project, and that her best was beyond good. She also knew that if there was a single flaw, that would be what he focused on—not on what she had done well. She steeled herself for the criticisms, and waited.

Sure enough, they came. Blake spread the pages out on her desk and began to tap in places, his voice extolling out ways she could have done something differently. She knew that his suggestions were really orders so she listened intently, but resentment burned hotter with each passing second.

When Blake finished she gave him another smile. Her cheeks felt like they were going to crack under the pressure of that smile. “I’ll see to it immediately, Father.”

“See to it that you do.”

That was it. No good job Kathleen, nothing. He left her office as abruptly as he had come into it. Katie sighed and slumped into her chair, letting her body sag slightly as she eyed the piles of papers. Blake would never have deigned to write down the changes, and while she had listened well and intently, she was positive she was going to forget something and draw more of his cruel disapproval.

Tears stung her eyes. She knew she sounded like she had a case of poor little rich girl, and maybe she did. But being Blake Wilkes’ daughter, and only child, was not the best thing to do or be.

She sighed and gathered up the papers and stacked them neatly, then began to mark the pages so she could keep it all straight. Her mind drifted back to the bar, to a set of piercing eyes and jet-black hair, wide shoulders and a knowing grin. A flutter started in her belly.

What did a man like that do for a living? She was pretty sure it wasn’t anything that had to do with an office in a building designed to show how powerful someone and their holdings were.

He was probably out riding some huge chrome and steel beast right now, prowling along the highways with the wind in his hair and the smell of danger gathering all around him.

Katie shook her head to clear it, and forced herself to concentrate, but the image her rather fanciful thoughts had conjured up did not go away.