Mating Fever

by Susan Hayes

  “I need my stuff. It’s in the trailer,” Trina said, forcing herself to keep her voice to a soft, terrified, whisper. Her momma had always told her she could get more flies with honey than with vinegar, and it turned out it was true even when she was undercover. It didn’t hurt that she was blonde, curvy, and looked like the sweet girl-next-door and not a fully trained ATF agent. Her looks were why she ended up with assignments like this time after fucking time.

  “Dwayne, get your sister’s shit and bring it out here. Now.”

  “I don’t even know who you are, asshole, I don’t have to do what you tell me.”

  Ramrod snarled in frustration. “I’m the man who is going to tear your head off and use it for a toilet if you say one more fucking word.”

  Dwayne opened his mouth, then closed it again and scampered off to the nearest RV.

  “Good choice,” Ramrod rumbled, and Trina had to fight the urge to laugh. Despite the dire circumstances—or maybe because of them—she was actually enjoying this madness. She really needed to get her head examined. If she survived this mess, she’d book time with a shrink. Right after she filed a lengthy report against her supervisor for putting her in this fucked-up position.

  Another boom of thunder sounded right overhead. She jumped, but the noise snapped her focus back to the here and now.

  “We could go back into the barn,” one of the others suggested, but Ramrod cut his hand through the air, negating the suggestion.

  “We get the shit we came for and Lily’s things, and we get out of here. We’re already soaked to the bone, a little more water won’t hurt us.” He leaned in close, his chest pressed against her back as he dropped his gaze. “Matter of fact, I think this rain is improving the view.”

  She glanced down and immediately crossed her arms over her chest. The thin, white, cotton crop-top she wore was soaked through and was more or less transparent now, revealing the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra. The others laughed. Then the big jerk did something surprising. He took off his leather vest and dropped it over her shoulders, making sure she was decently covered. Maybe there was a vestige of decency in this guy, after all.

  “Get your eyes off my property, assholes.”

  She sighed. Or he could just be another arrogant, possessive caveman.

  3

  Ramrod/Jack

  The hot little blonde was going to be a big fucking problem.

  After a year of living undercover, Agent Jack Noble was used to being surrounded by criminals and darkness every day. He’d damned near forgotten who he’d been before becoming Rodney ‘Ramrod’ Steele, but what little humanity was left to him would not allow an innocent like Lily to fall into the hands of a group of bastards like the Legion. They’d break her body and shatter her spirit until there was nothing beautiful about her, inside or out.

  And that was before he considered the fact that his wolf was convinced she was theirs. If his furry side was right then this operation, and his life, just got a lot more complicated.

  He’d have to make the call. Once he got her safely to his motel room, he’d make contact and tell his people he was ready to come in. He had one more meeting to attend before that could happen. With any luck it would give him enough to put away the few remaining big players left after a massacre had killed off most of their leadership.

  He’d been ready to end this op weeks ago, but Rocket, the new president of the mother chapter of the Legion, had sent him on a fact-finding trip to some of the other chapters. The trip had produced evidence linking several more clubs to the drug and weapons trading going on. It was too good an opportunity to pass up, so Jack had extended his time as Ramrod.

  Now things were different. Now he had to protect the blonde.

  Lily was a complication he didn’t need, not to mention a serious distraction. He hadn’t gotten laid in months, and her smoking curves and big blue eyes were making him painfully aware of exactly how long it had been since he’d fucked anything but his hand. At least the rain had dampened her scent a little. Putting his jacket on her helped, too. It muted her scent enough he could think clearly.

  The storm was easing by the time he got Lily settled on the back of his bike. He and the others pulled out and started the drive back to Cummingford. The air was fresher now, but he couldn’t enjoy it. There was nothing on his mind but the way Lily’s sweet body was plastered to the back of him, her arms locked tight around his rib cage. Judging by the squeak of fright she uttered when he first drove off, she hadn’t spent much time on the back of a bike.

  Every bump and pothole in the road had their bodies bumping and rubbing together, shredding his concentration and putting him in a constant state of arousal. The flat, boring scenery did nothing to distract him from the X-rated thoughts flashing through his head. By the time they got back to the clubhouse, Jack was hard, horny, and in a foul mood.

  He helped Lily off the bike and clamped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her in tight to his side. If she got scared and bolted, she wouldn’t like what happened next. Hell, she wasn’t going to enjoy anything about the next few hours, but he needed to be at this meeting, which meant the only safe place for her was at his side.

  “I’ve had time to think about it and I definitely hate you,” she muttered, but there was a tremor in her voice despite her defiant words.

  “I have that effect on women. You’ll be singing a different song once you get to know me.”

  She reached up to sweep a wind-tangled lock of blonde hair out of her eyes and gave him a dubious look. “I doubt it.”

  He leered and cupped a hand over his half-hard dick. “Trust me, it’ll happen. One night with me and you’ll be singing my name to the heavens.”

  For a brief second Jack could have sworn her wide-eyed expression turned stormy, but before he could be sure of what he’d seen, tears were spilling down her soft cheeks and she was shaking her head so hard he feared she was going to hurt herself.

  “No, please. This all has to be some kind of nightmare and I want to wake up now.”

  “Afraid not, sweet cheeks. This is as real as it gets.”

  Lily whimpered and tried to twist out of his hold. He stopped her easily enough, but he knew he was going to have to do something drastic to put an end to this bullshit. Once they went inside, he was going to be the only thing standing between her and a lifetime’s worth of nightmares. He turned and backed her into the wall of the clubhouse, ignoring her soft gasps and frightened eyes. He pinned her against the sun-warmed bricks, leaning in hard enough to keep her in place. Letting him feel every curve of her hot body. Setting a hand flat against the wall on either side of her head, he caged her in close enough she couldn’t turn away from him when he lowered his head until they were only a few inches apart.

  “You don’t have a fucking clue how much shit you’re in, do you?” he asked.

  She tried to shake her head and bumped her cheek against his forearm. “I just want to go home.”

  “Not happening. Your bottom-feeding scum of a half-brother offered you up as payment on a debt he owed, remember? As far as anyone here is concerned, you are now club property.”

  He moved in even closer, so his lips hovered just over hers. “Here’s how I see it, sweet cheeks. If you belong to me, then I’ll protect you. You don’t fuck anyone but me, and I make sure you’re taken care of. If you keep fighting me, then the others are going to think I can’t control my woman. If that happens, either you’re going to end up across my knees getting spanked in front of everyone, or I decide you’re not worth my time and I let them have you. All of them.”

  “You already said you’d let them have me when you leave,” she pointed out, her voice barely above a whisper.

  He had to give her credit. She’d been paying attention. “I did say I’d leave you here, didn’t I? Doesn’t mean I can’t change my mind. Give me a good reason to take you with me, Lily, and I’ll consider it. Piss me off and I’ll cut you loose.” He’d never do it, but there was no way to r
eassure her without risking his cover and both their lives.

  She blew out a tiny puff of breath. “Some choice.”

  “Better than no choice at all. I’m a bastard, but I’m not a complete bastard. You could do worse.” He lifted a hand from the wall to brush away her tears, ignoring the way she flinched from his touch.

  “For fuck’s sake, man, at least take her inside before screwing her,” Mutt called out as he walked past.

  “Just setting some ground rules for my new bed warmer,” Jack replied. A half second later, Lily opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off with a kiss that set his entire world ablaze. He’d only intended to silence her, but once his lips touched hers, all bets were off. She tasted like cinnamon candy, sweet and spicy at the same time, and he plundered her mouth with his tongue, craving more. He buried his fingers in the silken tangle of her blonde hair, wrapping it around his hands as he ground his aching cock against her flat stomach. He wanted her naked and under him, and he wanted it right fucking now… which was going to be a problem, given he was supposed to be one of the good guys.

  Fuck.

  4

  Trina

  Trina knew the second he kissed her that she was hip deep in a whole new kind of trouble. Her pulse raced and her pussy creamed as he slammed her up against the wall and fucked her mouth with his tongue. Sweet baby Jane, the man could kiss.

  She’d known going in there was a chance she was going to have to get physical with one of the club members. She’d done it before, but never once had it felt this damned good. It wasn’t enough she was undercover and on her own, surrounded by men who would kill her if they found out who and what she really was. No, the universe had to fuck with her by throwing a sexy, musclebound distraction into the mix.

  She never went for the bad boy types, even as a teenager she’d known there was nothing redeemable about them. Her girlfriends had all twittered and swooned over the rebels and hard cases, but not her. Years later, when those same friends had to deal with their deadbeat baby daddies or tried to hide the bruises their abusive husbands gave them, she’d been grateful not to have made the same mistake.

  Now here she was—hot, wet, and aching for a man who probably already had a reservation at the devil’s dinner table. After this op, she was going on a long vacation somewhere tropical, where the rum flowed in a river and the men were all from another country or at least another state. She clearly needed to get laid and get her head on straight. It was the only explanation for why she had her fingers fisted in Ramrod’s shirt, pulling him closer so she could kiss him back.

  He growled, the deep sound rumbling up from his chest as he claimed her mouth. His unshaven jaw rasped against her skin, and every breath she took carried his scent. It was a mixture of leather, road dust, and musk. She wanted him with a ferocity bordering on madness, but Trina was a trained agent, and there was no way she was going to let her libido interfere with the mission or her survival.

  She’d use this insane attraction, channel it to make sure she got what she needed to close this case, then walk away and find a lover who didn’t have blood on his hands.

  “Kiss me like that again and I’m going to think you’re starting to like me,” Ramrod murmured as he lifted his head and ended their kiss.

  She didn’t have to fake the blush on her cheeks as she dropped her gaze to his chest, trying her best to look like the shy, uncertain woman she was pretending to be. “You said I had to make a choice, so I made it.”

  He chuckled, tugged at a lock of her hair, and then moved away from her. “Keep making smart choices and I promise you won’t regret it. I protect what’s mine.”

  A calloused hand cupped her cheek and when she glanced up, he was looking down at her with an oddly gentle expression on his face. “I am not gonna’ leave you here, Lily. I wouldn’t leave my lying, cheating ex-wife with these bastards, never mind an innocent like you. Just don’t go telling anyone, okay? You say anything and neither of us will enjoy what happens next.”

  She nodded once, already trying to figure out if this new facet of his personality was an act, or something she could use to her advantage. “Okay. So… uh, what do I call you?”

  He grinned at her, looking the slightest bit sheepish. “I guess I forgot to introduce myself. Name’s Rod Steele. You can call me Rod, master, or Ramrod, I’ll answer to all three.”

  “Okay, Rod,” she answered, fighting the urge to roll her eyes at him.

  “I guess master was too much to hope for, huh? All right, sweet cheeks, let’s go inside. Whatever happens, stay quiet, stick close, and don’t try to run.” He wrapped an arm around her waist before heading for the door to the clubhouse. She managed to keep up with his long strides despite being barefoot, but it wasn’t easy.

  Now she could see it properly, she realized the clubhouse wasn’t much of a house at all. It was more of a ramshackle shed that had been extended a few times and wasn’t up to any building code known to man. Whatever money these guys were making, it wasn’t going into property upkeep.

  Inside, things were different. The whole space was more like a dive bar than anything else. Flat screen televisions on the walls, a pool table in one corner, and a bar covered in bottles, most of them only half full.

  It was cooler too, which was a pleasant surprise, but even the air conditioning couldn’t take away the reek of stale booze and cigarette smoke. There were about a dozen men inside, all of them wearing Legion colors. There were a few women, too, and it only took a few seconds for Trina to figure out which were the old ladies. They were softer looking and stuck close to their men, while the others were hard-edged, with jaded eyes and a lifetime’s worth of bad decisions poorly hidden beneath the layers of make-up plastered on their faces.

  The old ladies looked at her with curiosity, while the others glared with open hostility. Trina hunched her shoulders, dropped her head, and stuck close to Rod’s side.

  “Who the fuck is she?” one of the unclaimed ones asked, disdain dripping from every word and her eyes gleaming with spite. Her hair was dyed black and there was too much makeup plastered onto what must have once been a pretty face.

  “Mine. That’s all you need to know, Trixi,” Rod snapped.

  Trina made sure not to meet the woman’s gaze. She was supposed to be a meek, gentle soul caught up in something she didn’t understand. Her job was to look totally nonthreatening and entirely dismissible. Rod was willing to protect her because he thought she couldn’t protect herself, and she needed to keep him believing it. She needed everyone to believe it.

  “She ain’t yours yet, Ramrod. You want her, we need to talk about it,” a new voice spoke out, ringing with cold authority.

  “That’s why I’m here, Snarl. Otherwise, I’d be home already, showing my girl just how lucky she is I took an interest in her instead of leaving her to Freak’s tiny dick and performance issues.”

  There was a round of laughter and a path cleared ahead of them. At the far end of the clubhouse, seated behind a heavy wooden table, was a greasy-haired, heavy-set man with gray in his beard and a brutal scar that slashed across his face, twisting one side of his mouth into a perpetual snarl. “Bring her up here and tell me why you think I should let you have her.”

  Trina found herself standing across the table from one of the vilest scumbags in the state. The way he was looking at her made her skin crawl. This was the club’s president, Sam Wolfe, the one everybody called Snarl.

  “She’s too fucking pretty to be related to Dwayne. You see any resemblance, Mutt?”

  The club’s second in command shrugged. “They’re both blonde and scream like little girls when they’re scared. I can’t blame her, though. Freak’s face is so ugly he makes his own momma scream.”

  “Did Freak scare you, little girl?”

  Lily nodded. “Y—yes sir.”

  “Ain’t that sweet? She called me sir. I like it.” He glanced around at the men closest to him. “I think you should all do it from now on. Yes, sir. No
, sir. Three bags full of meth, sir! What do you think, Ogre?”

  “I think it suits you, sir.”

  Snarl grinned and the next thing she knew he was slamming a large skinning-knife point down into the tabletop. “Done!”

  Some of the good humor faded from his eyes as he looked at her again. “So, Freak scared you, your shit-stain brother sold you to us, and now you’re club property… unless I let Ramrod have you. Freak was out of line, he’s not patched and he knows better than to fuck with club property without my permission, but you… what the fuck am I going to do with you?”

  Rod tightened his hold on her. “You’re going to give her to me, Snarl. I’ll make sure she’s nicely broken in for your boys by the time I head out again.”

  “And why should I give her to you?”

  “Because I’m the guy who is going to tell Rocket if you and your pack of fuck-ups are still worthy of wearing our colors. The raid cost us a goddamned fortune and brought down heat none of us needed. It’s a fucking gong show out there, and we’re closing ranks. When that happens, what side of the door do you want to be on?”

  Snarl yanked the knife out of the table and pointed it at Ramrod. “Rocket needs our support. Things are too unstable. He wouldn’t cut us loose.”

  “He needs the support of the clubs who have their shit together. I’m here to decide if you and your crew meet the new standard, and so far I ain’t seen nothing to make me think you’re anything but a liability. Impress me, Snarl. Give me the girl and explain how your club is going to make up what was lost. Do that, and I can go home and leave you alone to run your club.”

  Everyone watched in silence as the two men stared at each other, the tension increasing by the second. Any moment she expected the two of them to whip out their dicks and start measuring.

  To pass the time she worked on figuring out her best escape route if things went sideways. If these two went at it, she had no intention of getting caught between them.