by Laura Kaye
The boys ran off to watch TV in the rec room, and Cora recounted what she’d seen as she unpacked the groceries and got to work in the Ravens’ big kitchen, styled in a mix of old mountain inn and new industrial touches. “I still can’t believe I saw that,” Cora said, washing her hands. “But I really hope something I witnessed might help. The shelter’s director said the authorities have been looking into this for a while without much to show for it.”
Bunny squeezed her shoulder. “You did good, hon. But please be sure to let the guys know what happened. I don’t love the sound of all this.”
“I will,” Cora said, eager to see Slider later at the races. After spending all day yesterday repairing some equipment at the track, he was actually eager to attend a race for the first time in a long time, so they were meeting after his daytime shift at the shop.
“You sound like you’re really enjoying working at the shelter,” Haven said, a big smile on her face as she scooped warm cookies off a tray.
“Well, I’ve only worked two days so far.” Cora grinned, pitching in with the cookies. “But it is a lot of fun. I get to walk the dogs and feed them and play with them, and I think Maria is going to let me assist in the clinic, too.”
“Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this excited about something, Cora.” Her friend’s expression went soft. “And I’m really happy for you. We deserve this.”
And that wasn’t even all Cora had to be happy for. Her thoughts drifted back to the previous night with Slider. Sharing her secret. Receiving his support. The incredible sex that had felt as emotional as it was really freaking hot. The only problem was that, having told Slider, she really felt like she owed it to Haven to tell her, too.
To tell her all of it.
“We do deserve it,” Cora said, dropping balls of raw batter on a cool cookie sheet. The Ravens might be big, scary-looking, tough bikers, but each and every one of them seemed to have a sweet tooth thanks to Haven’s recipes. On race nights, they often went through fifteen dozen or more. “And if we can find some time soon, there are a couple other things I want to tell you about, too.”
Haven arched a brow and gave her an appraising look, one filled with questions about why Cora couldn’t just tell her now. “Okay, of course. You know I’m always here for you.”
But they didn’t find the time while they were putting the finishing touches on the party food, and then it was time to take the boys down to the track to meet Slider. Ever since the attack on the clubhouse during the summer, Bunny didn’t like to stay there on race nights, and so they said their good-byes to the older lady before piling into Cora’s car and driving the short distance down the mountain to the track.
The parking lot was a big field that extended out from two sides of the oval track, and it was already hopping. They found a spot at the end of a line and then threaded their way toward the venue, which had a huge mural filling one whole exterior wall. It read, Green Valley Racing, the words painted in green over a waving black-and-white checkered flag.
Seeing a few of the Ravens directing traffic, the boys ran ahead.
“Watch the cars!” Cora called as Sam gave a wave of acknowledgment.
“You’re such a freaking natural with them, Cora,” Haven said. “It’s really cute.”
Warm affection had her watching them as they did funny handshakes with Phoenix. “I think it’s because I’m still a kid myself.”
Haven shook her head. “Nope. You may be funny and sarcastic and playful, but you’re not a kid anymore. Neither of us are. All kinds of crap forced us to grow up way before we wanted to.” She shrugged, the slanted evening sun bringing out the blond highlights in Haven’s hair. “But we made it out the other side, and that’s what matters.”
Cora held up her hand for a high-five. “Amen to that, sister.”
Haven returned the high-five with a laugh. Then, maybe a dozen feet away from the boys, she grasped Cora’s arm. “Can you tell me whatever it is now?”
“Yo, alligators!”
Coming from one of the side aisles of the lot, Slider’s voice caught Cora’s attention, and she grinned as she watched the kids barrel right for their dad. Ben nearly tackled him with a hug, hard cast and all, while Sam hung back. What was it between them that kept Sam from showing his dad the same excited affection when he was clearly happy to see him? Or, at least, as happy as he was willing to put on.
“Another time, I guess,” Haven said with a wink.
“For sure,” Cora said, trying not to give anything away by ogling the way those jeans hung on Slider’s lean hips, or the way his Ravens cut emphasized the size of his shoulders. “And it’s nothing to worry about, I promise.”
It was true. For once, all the problems and all the danger in her life were in the past. Her present and maybe even her future, for once and finally, were looking up.
Chapter 17
“Dad! Dad! Cora saw men arguing about a hurt dog and they left it!” Ben exclaimed.
“Yeah, and it was so cool, Dad. She got pictures and everything and then the animal control officers took her statement,” Sam said, both of them almost dancing around Slider as they competed to recount the details.
Frowning, Slider’s gaze lifted to where Cora stood talking to Haven. And, damnit, there was some magnetic force between him and Cora—had been for weeks, even though he’d been fighting like hell to resist it—that made him want to go to her and hold her and make sure she was okay.
Because if she saw something related to the dogfighting ring that Caine suspected the 301 Crew ran, she had no idea how close she’d come to being in real danger.
Haven headed to the track, in search of Dare no doubt, and Cora turned his way. Jesus, she was pretty. Wavy blond hair framing an angel’s face, green eyes happy and mischievous, her curves as enticing as always in a form-fitting navy V-neck sweater, and the jeans and boots she loved to wear together.
“Sounds like you had an adventure,” he said, not wanting to come at her with both barrels blazing with his concern.
“Boys told you, huh?” she asked.
Slider nodded, even as Ben tugged at the edge of his cut. “Dad, can we go in?”
“Go ahead, buddy. We’ll be right behind you,” he said, and then they were alone in the parking lot. Which was to say, they weren’t really alone—not with a few of his brothers standing twenty feet away and race-goers making their way inside. Music and announcements blared through the concourse, the atmosphere festive and frenetic. Slider wanted to pretend none of it existed and pull Cora to him for a kiss.
Or something more.
“Hi,” he said, staring at her mouth.
She grinned, her cheeks turning a pretty pink. “Hi.”
He licked his lips. “I want to kiss you right now.”
Her gaze flickered around them, a sure sign of uncertainty even though her expression read as all kinds of interested. Thank fuck they were in this madness together. And how crazy was it that he was in a position to have a thought like that? “Aren’t we on a PDA moratorium until you let the boys in on what’s happening?”
He chuckled. “Yeah. Remind me what asshole came up with that idea again?”
Her smile lit him up inside. “Well, you know,” she said, her taunting tone going right to his cock. “PDA is only a problem if you get caught . . .”
He stepped closer. “Is that right?”
Nodding, she gave him a brazen, challenging look that made him want to bend her over the hood of the nearest car.
“Best be careful what you wish for, Cora Campbell. Because I just might give it to you.”
She hugged herself and chuckled. “Now you’re just being cruel, Slider. Because that’s the most enticing thing I’ve heard all day.”
Grinning, they walked in side by side when what he really wanted was to take her hand. He wanted everyone to know that she was with him now. And he sure as shit wanted to dissuade the motherfuckers whose gazes lingered too long on her body from holding out the slig
htest hope that they had a chance.
Because they didn’t. Not if he had something to say about it.
For fuck’s sake.
It was on the tip of Slider’s tongue to pull Cora aside and interrogate her for all the details of what she’d seen earlier. To ask to see the pictures the boys said she took. Or maybe even to find Caine and pester him to see if he’d had a chance to dig into this dogfighting bullshit yet. But Slider didn’t want to ruin her fun over something that shouldn’t pose them any problem tonight, at least. Especially if he stayed by her side.
Which he intended to do.
It ended up being the best night out Slider had had in a long damn time. A woman he cared for—and who cared for him—at his side. His boys having fun. His brothers all around and the roar of the race in his ears. He ate bad food and survived the torture of Cora licking her way through a strawberry ice cream cone—barely—and laughed more times than he could count. Cora seemed curious about the rules of racing, racing strategies, and the cars themselves, and Slider was only too happy to tell her everything she wanted to know because cars had been his passion even before he’d fallen in love with his first Harley and learned about this club that was . . . Jesus . . . that was more of a family than anything he’d ever had . . .
How had he ever forgotten that? How had he let himself become so lost? He might be able to blame a lot of things on Kim, but that part of it was his to own, wasn’t it? He’d let go of things he hadn’t had to lose, and in the process, he’d defined his world so narrowly that there’d been almost nothing left.
He saw that now. Saw how he’d spiraled. And saw the truth of the Raven Riders—they were his family. They’d always been his family. As surely as if they were blood.
The realization was a total fucking eye-opener. And it made him feel like he’d found something for which he’d been looking for a long damn time.
The only thing that sucked was how hard it was to keep his hands off Cora. Now that he’d acknowledged his feelings—and admitted them to her—he was done playing it cool, playing it safe, playing it like the world didn’t matter.
After being disengaged for so long, he didn’t want to waste even one more second letting everything pass him by. He’d wasted too many precious seconds already. Having watched his kids’ mother die so young, he had no illusions that time was on his side—on anyone’s side. And he wanted to truly live again before fate made him say his last good-bye.
Sitting beside him in a section of stands reserved for the club, Cora touched his arm and pulled him from his thoughts. “I should head up to the clubhouse soon to help set everything out. I think Haven was planning to go up around nine-thirty and I told her I’d definitely be there by ten.”
Slider glanced at the big electronic board at the end of the field. It was nine-thirty now, so he nodded. “Let me find the boys and I’ll run you up.”
“You don’t have to do that, Slider. Stay and have fun. I’ll just see you there later.”
He appreciated the offer, he really did. But he was enjoying her company more than the races, and that was truly saying something. “No, sweetheart, I’m with you.”
She turned toward him, her thigh against his. “This no-kissing thing is hard.”
He chuffed out a little laugh and arched a brow. “So hard, Cora. It’s so fucking hard.” She laughed and smiled and blushed at his innuendo, and it lit him up inside to think that maybe he was capable of making another person so happy.
The boys, however, were definitely not happy to go. “Aw, Dad, can’t we stay till the end?” Sam asked with Ben’s full agreement.
“They’re welcome to hang with me. I got a million little jobs they can help with,” Phoenix said. The kids had been shadowing him all night, and he was being a really damn good sport to humor them. Slider appreciated it, he really did. But it also made him a little sad, because it was usually Jagger, the club’s Race Captain, they stuck to like glue because he was—until recently—the man in charge. And he was really good with them, too. Making them feel important and needed and useful.
Damn, Slider hadn’t thought about that in a long time, and it made his gut squeeze that much harder over the injustice keeping Jagger locked up.
“Yeah, Dad, can we?” they asked in unison.
“Okay,” Slider said, clasping hands with Phoenix. “Thanks for letting them hang.”
“What, are you kidding? These are the coolest munchkins in the whole place.”
“Hey, I’m not a munchkin!” Ben yelled, setting off a mini wrestling match that Slider grinned and walked away from.
Out in the parking lot, he asked, “Your car or my truck? We can leave the other parked here and grab it on the way out later.”
“I don’t care, but I’m only three rows back. You?” Cora’s car was closer, so they headed to the end of the aisle near the trees . . . where it was really dark because the overhanging branches filtered out the stadium’s light.
Slider frowned. “Sweetheart, is now a bad time to mention that I feel pretty fucking protective of you and therefore the fact that you chose this creepy-ass parking space is making me kinda nuts?”
She chuckled and gave his stomach a swat. “It wasn’t dark when I parked.”
“Yeah, but that just means you gotta think of it beforehand,” he said, his mind unhelpfully imagining a dozen bad scenarios. Not here at the track, necessarily, because after the attack on the club over the summer, they’d buttoned up security all around their property. But in general, he needed her to look out for herself when he wasn’t there to do it. And, damn, it had been a long time since he’d had to worry about from which direction bad news might strike his life. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that part of reengaging with the world—and with his heart.
And of course, the driver’s door was closest to the woods.
“Okay, I will. I wouldn’t want you worrying about the boys not being safe anyway.”
He followed her around to her door and boxed her up good and tight against the red fiberglass. “Aw, hell, no. This is not about the kids. I have zero worries about their care or safety when they’re in your presence. Understand?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
“This is about you. And the fact that I care about you. And that I’m already pretty fucking attached over here and don’t want anything to happen to you.”
She relaxed against the car and put her hands on his chest. “I like Pretty Fucking Attached Slider.”
Her tone stirred heat in his veins, heat made easier to ignite by the possessiveness and protectiveness he’d felt from their whole night together. “Do you now?”
She nodded. “Uh-huh. I like him a lot.”
Slider leaned in. Slowly, so slowly, until his lips grazed hers, then skated to her cheek, her jaw, her neck, where he licked and nibbled his way back to her ear. “And what might make you like him even more?”
Her exhale was nearly a moan. “Hmm. Anything?”
“Anything.”
“If he was making me come.”
“Christ,” he bit out, his cock turning to steel. “Here? Now?”
“Please?” she asked, her tone edged with desperation. “Not being able to touch you tonight has driven me crazy. I can’t wait.”
He didn’t want her to beg for something he was only too happy to give. “Then push down your jeans and turn around.”
Adrenaline was an aphrodisiac in Cora’s blood. It flooded her nerves, her muscles, her senses, even as she complied with Slider’s command, unhooking her jeans and sliding them and her panties down over her hips. And then she turned and braced against her car, the mild October night air tingling over her skin.
Suddenly, Slider’s heat was gone, and she peered over her shoulder to find that he’d retreated a step or two. He caught her looking. “Don’t mind me, Cora. I just needed to make sure I never fucking forget what you look like half naked against that car.”
An excited breath rushed out of her, even as the wetness between h
er legs proved how urgently she needed him there. Stroking her, filling her, driving her wild. “Slider,” she finally pleaded.
It was as if his name hauled him to her. His hands were at his jeans, his zipper, his cock. He fished a packet from his wallet, and tore the wrapper to reveal a condom. His fist bumped against her ass as he rolled it on, and it was so damn erotic, that little bit of contact, because it meant it was almost time.
But instead, it was Slider’s fingers that plundered between her legs. “Aw, Jesus. Feel how wet you are for me.” His middle finger sank deep, once, twice. Cora tilted her hips back to give him more access, her fingers scrabbling at the roof of her car, her breasts covered by her sweater but pressed against the window. The sensations were arousing as hell—the hard metal and glass of the car in front of her, and him trapping her from behind.
That thought unraveled a tendril of fear through her belly, because the last time she’d had sex from behind, well, It hadn’t freaking been sex, Cora, okay? Right.
And she refused to let what it had been force her to surrender the hot satisfaction of having Slider like this, of sharing this with him, of letting him take her in such a primal way. Especially since a dirty part of her mind, a part she maybe wasn’t ready for, got off on imagining Slider taking this encounter to a whole other place—a place where he pinned her arms behind her back and clamped his hand over her mouth and took her hard and relentlessly against the car . . .
“Oh, God,” she moaned as he added a second finger and penetrated deep. “I need more.”
“Yeah?” he rasped in her ear. “Tell me.”
“I need your cock in me, Slider.”
“Yeah, ya do.” And then his hardness was there, at her entrance and sliding home.
Her moan was high-pitched and tortured, but standing flush against the car as they both were had his cock stroking against a place inside her that made her want to cry and beg. His chest pressed against her back and his arms came around her body, and then he hunched himself around her and took her in a series of fast, hard, grinding strokes.
