Biker
Bad Boys in Big Trouble 1
Fiona Roarke
Despite the danger, there are some definite pluses to undercover agent Zak Langston’s current alias as a mechanic slash low-life criminal. He doesn’t have to shave regularly or keep his hair military short. He gets to ride a damn fine Harley. And then there’s the sweet, sexy lady next door who likes to sneak peeks at his butt. Yeah, that was a major plus.
Kaitlin Price has had the worst luck with men. As if her unearned reputation as a frigid tease isn’t enough, she also has to deal with her stepsister’s casual cruelty and taunting tales of sexual conquests she can only dream of. So Kaitlin has never been with a man. So what? So what…
So maybe the sexy bad boy next door would be willing to help her with that.
Gunfire, gangsters and a kidnapping weren’t part of her Deflower Kaitlin plan. Good thing for her bad boy Zak is very, very good. At everything.
Biker, Bad Boys in Big Trouble 1
Nothing’s sexier than a good man gone bad boy.
Biker
Bad Boys in Big Trouble 1
Copyright © 2016 Fiona Roarke
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. The characters, organizations, events, and places portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination and are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to a real person, living or dead is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
Nickel Road Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-944312-00-8
For K, who nudged me, pushed me and then gave me a hard shove. For R, who provided the sweet beverages, including copious amounts of Kool-Aid. For L, who made lots of chocolate treats to get me through. And for JR, who inspires me and then promptly supports whatever I decide to do. Thank you all.
Prologue
Zak Langston pulled the single sheet of paper from the envelope and read out loud, “Assignment: Biker.” There were more words below that, but the single-word title occupation made him stop reading.
“Biker? Really?” he asked his handler, Miles Turner. “You want me to join a gang or something this time?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what we want you to do. We even have an initial contact to help you out. He’s a mechanic at a garage in the small town where the bad guys are headquartered, and you’re about to get a job there.”
“He’s an informant, then?”
“Not exactly.”
“Explain.”
“Your assignment is to infiltrate the gang with the help of a civilian we’ll arrange for you to meet. Get in with them, set up a deal to stop the bad guy leader, and then come back for your next mission. Simple.”
“It’s never that simple.”
“Of course not. So you’ll adapt and overcome. That’s your job.”
He rolled his eyes. “Right. So where am I going?”
“Arizona.”
“Awesome.” His tone was anything but excited about his new assignment. “It’s super-hot there.”
Miles grinned. “But it’s a dry heat.”
“You’re not helpful.”
“It’s not my job to be. Helpful is for Boy Scouts and brown-nosers.” That was his handler’s favorite phrase to quote, second only to his very favorite regarding promises.
“Anything else I need to know?”
“We found a place for you to live, but you’ll have to sign a six-month lease.”
“Six months! It won’t take that long, will it?”
“Of course not, but the rent is so reasonable it’s worth it. Plus, you’ll be centrally located in town.”
“Good enough. I’ll be on my way then.”
“Great.” Turner’s voice turned serious. “And Zak, take these guys seriously. They’re more dangerous than they seem at first glance.”
“No problem. I always take these guys seriously. Crazy not to.”
“And stay in touch.”
“I’ll think about it.” Zak typically maintained the absolute minimum amount of contact when he was undercover. The last thing he needed was to be caught with a bug in his ear or talking on the phone and having to pretend a meaningless conversation when someone walked in unexpectedly. “You’ll hear from me when I have something relevant to report.”
Chapter One
The old saying about stopping to smell the roses was in Kaitlin Price’s case better revised to halting everything to stare at her new neighbor’s well-sculpted butt. She did this every single day when he returned home from work. He never disappointed.
Kaitlin was on a mission, and it most certainly involved Zak. As a bonus, he looked very much like a bad boy. Bad boys and the way they operated was perhaps a stereotype, but hopefully an accurate one. She didn’t even know Zak’s last name. Not yet. But she would. Soon. Or not. Didn’t matter. She didn’t need his last name for him to fulfill her most ardent wish.
She just hoped he’d be willing to cooperate with her seductive proposal. Stereotype or not, he would fit the bill perfectly where her needs were concerned. Plus, she really loved the view.
Like all known procrastinators, she’d waited until the last possible second to enact her “seduce the neighbor” plan, so basically it had come down to a now-or-never situation.
Her strategy had to be enacted tonight.
Tomorrow would be too late.
A familiar throaty roar echoed down the street, interrupting her mental schemes and sending her scurrying down the stairs to the side window in her living room, which had the very best view.
With a glance at the hall clock along the way across the room, Kaitlin pulled the curtain aside and peeked out as the sound of a loud motorcycle approached her home. The object of her desire came into view as his Harley turned into their shared driveway. He veered off the single rectangle of pavement slightly and onto the short sidewalk in front of his porch.
Zak.
The new bad-boy neighbor who’d moved in next door a couple of weeks ago.
Her landlady, Mrs. Waverly, owned not only Kaitlin’s home, but also the house next door. Zak’s house. When he’d signed the lease agreement last month, Mrs. Waverly had come straight over under the pretense of “informing” Kaitlin to expect a new tenant. She’d then proceeded to tell Kaitlin everything she knew about the mystery renter.
He already claimed the top three attributes in the small-town matchmaker’s handbook. Single. Tall. And, most importantly, employed. But also apparently he was handsome in a rough around the edges way, Mrs. Waverly had whispered. “He just needs a woman’s touch, I think.”
Kaitlin had stifled a smile when her seventy-eight-year-old landlady had then winked.
Because Kaitlin was single, could cook and didn’t have a parade of men in and out of her home—what Mrs. Waverly disdainfully referred to as dating around—she had also passed muster with her matchmaker landlady. In fact, it seemed she was a special case. The double-edged sword of being a virgin with a reputation for not putting out was guaranteed to keep most men at arm’s length, or rather, far, far away. At least it had been in her disappointed experience.
She hadn’t started out that way. She’d gone out with a few men over the years. Men she’d thought were interested in more than just trying to get her between the sheets to add a notch to their bedposts. But then the inevitable day came when these men expected her to spread her legs and let them do whatever
they wanted so they could move on to the next girl. Kaitlin, at the time, felt like she deserved more. She certainly wanted what she considered the gift of her virginity to go to someone who’d appreciate it.
Then she wised up to reality. That dream died a painful death. But if she was going to give it up to someone, Kaitlin wanted it to be a prime male specimen and not just a love ’em and leave ’em bedpost-notch seeker.
She’d had bad luck in the “finding a decent male” department. Instead of decent, the only men she’d discovered were pricks. Did she have a prick magnet embedded somewhere perhaps?
All she’d wanted was someone who was interested and wanted to be with only her, to talk to her, laugh with her, look forward to seeing her. Not to chase her relentlessly until she gave in, regardless of any other trait she carried. Unfortunately, the latter had been her typical dating experience.
No more. She had a new plan. If only Zak would cooperate.
Still seated on his motorcycle, Zak revved the engine. Her heartbeat sped up. Zak always did that right before he turned the engine off, stood, twisted at the waist and dismounted. Woo boy. That was the premium move she waited to see each and every day.
What a gorgeous tenant the new bad-boy renter had turned out to be. He was as attractive as he was completely wrong for her, making him all the more desirable. That, coupled with the motorcycle he rode every day, made him a dangerous temptation. A tall, muscular, employed and attractive inducement.
Her eyes slid shut in contemplation of being embraced in his strong arms, and what it would feel like when they kissed for the first time. What it would feel like if they came together erotically as men and women did. She wanted to know what it felt like to come together erotically with a man at long last.
She fantasized that one day he’d take her for a ride, and not only on his motorcycle. A rush of heat filled her from face to toes, along with the sudden vision of a naked, sweaty Zak moving above her, his copious muscles bunching and relaxing as they made love. What would his slick, hard body feel like pressed deliciously against hers? Or pressed inside her? Having never been naked against any man, she could only imagine.
In her fantasy, he would be perfect. Secretly a gentleman willing to wait until they tied the knot for sex, if she wanted it that way. Whether or not they made their relationship sexual, he’d love her unconditionally. He’d think she was smart, capable and worthy. He’d never call her names. He’d never make her feel bad about herself. He’d always champion her.
No doubt Kaitlin would be disappointed if she ever got up the nerve to speak to him, but the fantasy lived on. Well, at least it had until she’d gotten that call from her stepsister this morning. Then the timetable had shifted dramatically.
Kaitlin had waited for him each and every day since he’d moved in a few weeks ago, longing for the courage to speak to him in person, initiate a conversation, and to ask him if he might be interested in helping her with her plan. The “I don’t want to be a virgin any longer” plan. The private plot that needed to be taken care of sooner rather than later.
Beyond the fact that she thought Zak very attractive, she suspected he wasn’t the type of man who’d want to settle down and get married—the biggest stereotype of all for a bad boy, and that was exactly what she needed.
Kaitlin had been on the hunt for a man to provide one very important service. But she needed the relationship to be temporary. And what would he get out of it? Sex. But was sex with a complete novice enough? It would have to be. That was all she had to offer.
Meanwhile, she’d lose her virginity once and for all to someone she didn’t know. Someone she wouldn’t have to see all the time. Unless she looked out her window.
Someone who wouldn’t seek her out each and every day in this small town, knowing what she looked like naked. Someone who would be unlikely to whisper behind her back to her friends and acquaintances that she was inadequate and old-fashioned because she wouldn’t put out on a first date.
It wasn’t like she and Zak travelled in the same circles. She’d never seen him at the library, the local park, or even the grocery store in the few weeks he’d lived here. And she’d looked. The only time she saw Zak was when she pulled the living room curtain aside and watched with prurient fascination from just feet away as he dismounted his motorcycle. He was damn near perfect.
A humiliating memory slid into her mind, a reminder of the town she’d grown up in after age nine. A town she’d left the summer after graduating from college thanks to the vicious gossip of those who’d attained the status of Somebodies who looked down on folks just trying to get by. Kaitlin’s reputation for being a virginal tease, an unfair label that her stepsister, Brooke Bailey, perpetuated with each visit, had followed her to her new home. At least she wasn’t going to be here forever.
Kaitlin pushed her stepsister and her antics to the back recesses of her mind as she watched Zak on his motorcycle. Anticipation built in her core, among other tingly places.
There were three reasons she hadn’t already chosen a random guy in this town for an initial hookup. First, she knew too many people. Second, no one had ever been remotely interesting. Lastly, she’d given up on ever settling down here and having a family.
She fully expected that when she finished her contract with her employer, she’d move on to bigger and better things out of this small town. But that was at least a year away. And besides she was lonely.
The loud throttle of his engine rattled the glass panes in every one of her windows. With a final loud engine rev, Zak turned the motor off and put the kickstand down.
He sat there, pulled his helmet from his head, shook his mane of curly dark locks like some rock star coming off stage after a concert, and then slowly stood. He swung one long muscular leg over the seat, easing off the black leather with the smooth grace born of those in truly great shape.
Watching Zak dismount from his motorcycle made the space between her thighs weak, moist and needy. Just as seeing him for that very first time had done.
If this wicked feeling was what put people together in sweaty, sexy compromising positions, Kaitlin wanted to try it. This bad boy was the first to ever elicit such a core-tightening response in her.
He leaned over and hung his helmet on one handle, which tightened the fabric of his blue jeans gloriously over his well-shaped butt.
His ass was a work of art.
Kaitlin was unprepared when he suddenly turned his head and stared in her direction. Heart in her throat, she dropped the curtain, stepped away from the window and pressed herself to the wall, trying to hide.
It was truly a ridiculous move.
How was she supposed to seduce him if she couldn’t even get up enough nerve to stare back when he looked her way? She was pitiful, when the opposite was called for. She needed to do something bold. A streak of bravery stiffening her spine, she stepped back to the window and yanked the curtain aside. Disappointment filled her. He’d already moved to his porch. He likely also thought she was a pathetic fool.
Maybe tomorrow when he rode up on his loud motorcycle, she could make a plate of freshly baked muffins, knock on his door, and then talk him into bed once his mouth was full of sweet, fruit-filled confection. She glanced at the kitchen counter where the blueberry muffins she’d pulled out of the oven cooled in the muffin tins.
No. That wouldn’t work.
Brooke would be here early in the afternoon. Snotty. Superior. Smug. Ready to share her latest sexcapades.
Kaitlin needed to do something today. She glanced at the muffins again as a new plan circulated in her brain.
Time was wasting.
She needed to do something bold and she needed to do it right now.
Brooke would be here tomorrow in full brag mode and ready to belittle Kaitlin and her non-existent sex life. That thought alone spurred her to find any shred of her courage.
~ ~ ~
Today, Kaitlin had additional incentive to ignore her shy nature and ask Zak an important que
stion. “Will you have sex with me right now?”
Brooke, Kaitlin’s older, worldlier stepsister, was coming for a visit. Kaitlin didn’t want her to come, but somehow she always lacked the grit to keep Brooke from doing whatever the hell she wanted to do.
If Brooke wanted to damn well visit, nothing on God’s green earth would stop her, certainly not Kaitlin’s protests or fabricated excuses. So she sucked up her anger and packed it away in the crowded area of her mind reserved especially for her difficult stepsister.
Brooke had been an outrageously spiky thorn in Kaitlin’s side since the day they’d met. Their parents had married in a quiet ceremony before Kaitlin and her two brothers had a chance to meet their new stepsister. Kaitlin might have told her mother not to do it if she’d discovered Brooke’s true personality before the nuptials.
There were several topics of difficult conversation Brooke could instigate once she arrived for her visit, all designed to make Kaitlin painfully aware of everything Brooke had that she didn’t. Kaitlin should number them for simplicity.
One, she’d brag about her latest wealth-bringing job that Daddy had helped her get.
Two, perhaps she wanted to name drop the most recent star she’d been hanging out with, wasting time and money on superficial pursuits. She hadn’t droned on about those things in a long while.
Number three was a recurring favorite of Brooke’s: her latest sexual conquest of the best-looking, richest man sporting the biggest dick ever in recorded history. Brooke Bailey, more tolerated enemy than friend or stepsister, loved nothing better than to regale Kaitlin with stories of her scandalous sex life. Brooke knew Kaitlin was a virgin and seemed to take personal joy in the fact.
Topic number three was almost always the reason she visited so often.
Biker (Bad Boys in Big Trouble Book 1) Page 1
