I nod, ignoring the girl who is still standing there shouting questions at Fawn. “Let’s get out of here.”
“You’re not taking her anywhere.” A man with a spider tattoo on his neck is shaking his head as he steps up next to the angry chick. “These girls are coming home with me. I have dibs.”
What the fuck?
Dibs?
Oh, hell no.
Fawn scrambles to get behind me again as he reaches out for her. I don’t even think. I punch him hard and a fountain of blood spurts from his nose as his head snaps back. Before he knows what happened, I punch him again, sending him crashing into the pool table.
People are screaming and the girl with the tall boots is grabbing for me, but I don’t care. I’ve been ready for a fight all fucking night and now I’ve finally found one. I’m ready to hit him again, but a scared, shaky voice drowns out everything else.
“Beckham, wait, please!” Fawn grabs my wrist and I have to shake my head to try and control the rush of adrenaline that’s coursing through me. “Let’s go… please.”
I look from her to the tattooed asshole who has rolled onto the floor. He’s out cold.
Good.
“Okay,” I nod, reaching to take her hand. “Let’s just—”
“Fawn, no,” Angry Boots is here again, standing between us and the door. “You can’t leave with him. He’s a psychopath! Did you see what he just did?”
“Oh, now you’re worried?” Fawn shakes her head, her voice rising for the first time. “First of all, he’s definitely not a psychopath—and like you would know, anyway. You were ready to go home with a guy who called dibs on us.” Fawn squeezes my hand and holds it up. “We’re leaving. I’m going with Beckham. He’s the only reason I’m still alive right now and I trust him more than anyone else in this place.”
“I can’t believe you,” Angry Boots huffs. “Come on, Fawn. Let’s just—”
“No,” Fawn cuts her off, then pushes past her, never letting go of my hand. “I’m leaving with him.”
Angry Boots is staring at us with her mouth hanging open as we walk out. I can’t help but grin at Fawn once we’re outside alone.
“You handled that pretty well,” I say. “I’m impressed.”
She laughs as she looks up at me. Damn, she’s even sexier with a smile on her face. “Not as impressive as what you did. You smashed that guy’s face in with your bare hands.” She shakes her head as we get back on the bike. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“Impossible,” I say, meaning it. “You’ll never be on my bad side.”
Even though we’ve just met, I know it’s true. This girl isn’t like anyone else I’ve ever met. She does something to me. Something good. Something that makes me forget all about the pain inside. At least for now.
I still don’t know where we’re going as we pull out of this parking lot for the second time tonight. I just know that I’m not ready for this feeling to end.
Not until I find out every single thing about my beautiful Fawn.
Chapter Four
Fawn
I’m not sure what I’m expecting, but the plain, tidy duplex we pull up in front of just doesn’t match with the hulking, brooding man whose rock hard abs I’ve been clutching for the entire ride here.
“Is this your house?” I ask, trying not to sound too incredulous.
He grins as he helps me off the bike. “Yeah, I live upstairs and my brother lives on the ground floor with his wife and my niece.”
I follow him up without even questioning it. Before tonight, I never would have even thought about going home with a guy I don’t know, let alone a biker.
But Beckham doesn’t seem like those other guys from the bar. Sure, he has tattoos and he obviously isn’t afraid of a fight, but there’s something different about him.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he asks as soon as we’re inside. Just like the exterior, it’s plain and simple but still nice and clean. There isn’t any dirty laundry or leftover dishes lying around—something that can’t be said for my own place, sadly. “I have milk, juice, tea, coffee, beer… water?”
“I’m fine, but thank you.” I follow him into the kitchen where I can finally get a good look at him under the fluorescent light. “How long have you lived here?”
“Not too long,” he says, pouring himself a glass of water and downing it in one continuous drink. My eyes dart to his thick muscular neck and the sexy Adam’s apple bobbing with every gulp. “My brother, Jaxon, got married and we all moved to Nevada to join the Heartlands Motorcycle Club.”
I look down at his painted toes and smile again. “And you said you live up here alone?”
He follows my gaze and then laughs. “My niece, Nixie, did that.” He shrugs. “Makes her happy so it makes me happy. And not to brag, but she says I do a pretty good butterfly.”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “I like that. And I know it sounds kind of crazy, but those painted toenails are how I knew I could trust you.”
He quirks a brow. “That’s how you knew you could trust me? Not that I swore I’d protect you? Not the way I broke that guy’s nose? My… painted nails?”
I’m laughing even harder now. “I know it sounds ridiculous, but it’s true. I don’t know many guys who would let their niece paint their nails—especially not when they had to go fight in a bar the same night. But you don’t seem to care. I like that. You don’t look like you have a softer side, but… you do.”
He looks thoughtful for a moment, then shrugs. “I guess I never thought of it that way. I go along with it because it makes Nixie happy. She’s my world. And as far as wearing it to the bar, well…” He grins again. “I dare someone to give me shit about my toenails.”
I take a step closer and reach for his hand. I feel a wave of heat through my body as I remember how his hands felt when he was holding me steady on his bike. How he pulled me close and how I could feel every part of his big hard body—how it made my own body come alive.
“You’re blushing,” he says, his deep voice pulling me from my thoughts. And yeah, my cheeks really feel like they’re on fire now, but I can’t make myself drop his hand. “What are you thinking about right now?”
I trace my fingers over the scars and callouses. “I’m just thinking about how someone so strong can be so gentle at the same time. With your niece. With me. I mean… you don’t even know me, but you risked your life to help me.”
“My life isn’t in danger,” he grunts. “Not from those guys.” He squeezes my hand a little and then moves it up to my cheek, running his thumb along my jaw until it’s so close to my lips that I can’t help but open my mouth a little as I draw in an uneven breath. “And with you, well… I want to be gentle with you. I saw the fear in your eyes earlier. I knew you needed me. What kind of jerk would take advantage of that?”
“There were more than a few in that bar tonight who would have tried.”
He frowns as he takes his hand away. “You’re probably right about that. Just thinking about it makes me want to drive back there and teach them not to mess with you.”
I already miss his touch but I don’t have to wait long. He puts a hand on the small of my back and directs me toward the living room. “Do you want to sit down for a while? Or… I can take you home if you—”
“No,” I shake my head, cutting him off. “I mean, yes, I want to sit down. To talk, I mean.” I can feel my face heat up again as he smiles down at me. I clear my throat as we both sit down on the couch. “We can talk for a while if you want. I’m not in a hurry.”
Oh, God.
He probably thinks I’m an idiot. I certainly sound like one right now.
But the look he’s giving me isn’t judgmental. He doesn’t look annoyed or even a little inconvenienced. Right now he’s looking at me like… like I’m the only thing he can see.
It’s a look that makes me feel tingly and floaty all over, like a million butterflies have suddenly started doing backflips in my s
tomach.
“So what were you doing in that bar tonight?” he asks, that hot, tingly look thankfully fading to something more like an amused curiosity. Thank goodness. There’s no way I can concentrate on what he’s saying if he keeps looking at me like that. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess that it isn’t really a place where you’d normally hang out.”
I laugh, partly because of that leftover giddy, floaty feeling and partly because he’s absolutely right. If I’d just listened to my gut instead of going into that bar with Nicole, I wouldn’t be in the situation I’m in right now. I wouldn’t have seen anyone die.
But… I also wouldn’t be sitting here with Beckham.
“How could you tell?” I ask, still laughing a little. “I felt so out of place there. But Nicole—that was my fri—er, co-worker—said it would be fun. Turns out it wasn’t much fun.”
“Ah, Nicole. Your friend with the boots.” He nods with a smirk. “Yeah, I don’t think she’s a fan of mine after tonight.”
I shudder as images of Nicole making out and getting felt up by Spider-Neck flash through my head. I still can’t believe that he thought he could call dibs on me—or that Nicole was okay with the whole thing.
“I’m not really a fan of hers after tonight, to be honest.” I shake my head. “I thought I’d have a fun night out with her, but all she did was put me in danger.”
His fist clenches as he presses his lips together. “You’re not going to be in danger anymore.” With obvious effort, he takes a deep breath and I watch as his enormous muscles seem to relax a little. “Okay, so you and Karen are co-workers. At least that part makes sense now.”
“Yeah, she’s always telling me I need to cut loose and have a little fun, but yeah, I don’t want any more of her idea of fun.”
He reaches over and takes my hand, the simple gesture making me smile as those butterflies start to go crazy again.
“Nothing wrong with having a little fun sometimes,” he begins. “But it’s better when it’s with someone you trust, someone who at least has your back.”
“I don’t really have anyone like that…” I have to swallow hard to talk around the lump forming in my throat. He’s just so sweet and gentle. A sweet, gentle guy who isn’t afraid to break someone’s nose for the girl he loves.
Why do I love that so much?
I haven’t dated much, but he’s so unlike any of the guys who normally seem interested in me. I don’t feel like he’s just trying to get into my pants. He’s actually asking questions and listening to my answers.
That fact alone is enough to set him apart from most of the guys I’ve met while I’ve been at college.
“You have me now,” he says. “And I hope you’ll believe me when I tell you that I’ll have your back no matter what.”
“I do,” I nibble at my lip. “I believe you.”
“Good.” He smiles. “Tell me more about yourself.”
I normally hate that question because I never know how to answer it. With Beckham, though, I want to answer. I want to keep this conversation going. I want to keep this whole night going.
“What do you want to know?”
“Well, you’re obviously old enough to get into the bar, but I wouldn’t put you much past twenty-one.” He shrugs. “Do you go to school?”
“I’ll be twenty-two in a couple of months. And this will be my last year of classes at the college downtown. As for going to the bar…” I roll my eyes as I think back to the fiasco that started this crazy night. “You were right earlier when you said it really isn’t my thing. I mostly just work and try to save enough to put myself through school, and I’m not complaining but… working so much does get kind of old sometimes.”
“What about your family?” He cocks his head to the side. “They aren’t around to help?”
“Sort of,” I nibble at my lip. “I’m the youngest of four girls so the little money my parents managed to save was gone way before it was my turn to go to college.” I smile and try to switch the subject to something a little more interesting, like… him. “How about you? How did you end up in Seneca?”
I listen as he starts to tell me about his life. He starts to open up to me in a way that I know is not usual for him. He doesn’t seem like the type to let people in easily, and I’m honored that he trusts me enough to open up about his past, even if it is hard to hear.
“We were just kids,” he whispers as he gets a far off look in his eyes. “But that didn’t stop them. It was a local gang. Luckily, Beannie and Jaxon were asleep. I wasn’t so lucky. I saw them shoot my parents in the chest like they were worth less than the cash and jewelry they stole. I can still see their bodies lying awkwardly in the kitchen, my mom staring up at the ceiling with blank eyes.”
I start to tear up as I watch him, picturing this strong man as a scared little kid, watching his parents die.
He tells me all about how he took his siblings—Nixie’s mom, Beannie, and his younger brother, Jaxon—to live with their uncle after that. About how the crazy uncle used to beat Beckham and how he took it all to keep his younger brother and sister safe.
“It was rough,” Beckham whispers as he holds me tight. “The old man had a temper and he was constantly breaking every ashtray that he bought, throwing them against the walls in his fits of anger. Eventually, he stopped buying them and he just put his cigarettes out on me instead.”
My heart goes out to him as he tells me that he protected his younger siblings as best he could. “I always made sure to get into his face when Jaxon or Beannie pissed him off. I let him take it out on me. The only thing I hated more than getting tortured by him, was watching my brother and sister get it.”
It’s something out of a horror movie. It’s a lot—too much for one person to go through in one lifetime. “I’m sorry,” I say as I move closer and put my arms around him. “That’s… I can’t even begin to pretend like I understand how hard that must have been on you.”
“It made me strong,” he says, pulling me in close next to him. “It made me a fighter. That’s the part I’m thankful for. I know how to depend on myself—I know I can only depend on myself.”
“Everything that happened must make it hard to trust people.” I close my eyes for a moment, my heart breaking for him. “Do you think you’ll ever be able to let someone in? To love and to trust?”
I don’t know what makes me ask, and he doesn’t answer right away. For several long seconds, the only thing I can hear is his deep breathing and his heart beating steadily as I lay my head against his chest.
“There’s been too much darkness in my life,” he says, finally. “I don’t think I’d be any good in a real relationship. I wouldn’t even know how to love someone the way they deserve to be loved.”
“You deserve to be loved,” I whisper, but I’m not sure if he hears me.
I’m not sure what time it is and I don’t even care. I just want to stay right here in his arms forever. His muscles, his arms, his earthy, manly scent—I love it all. I don’t want to let go.
After the way he stepped in and saved me earlier tonight, I feel like I owe him my life—and honestly? I like the way it felt to have him there protecting me.
Tonight is the first time I’ve felt safe and treasured and seen in… well, in forever.
He reaches down and tips my chin up until I’m looking into his eyes. “You got quiet. What are you thinking about?”
I smile. It’s funny to me that he can already tell when I’m over-thinking. “Just how nice it is to be here with you right now,” I say, meaning it. “Just that I don’t want to leave. Just that I—”
I stop myself before the words can tumble out.
Just that I want to kiss you.
His gaze drops to my mouth as if he’s reading my mind. Our lips are just inches away from each other. He leans in a little and I close my eyes. My hand is on his chest and I can feel his heart beating faster right along with mine.
My breath catches as his lips brush again
st mine, their surprising softness at odds with the rough stubble on his face. I don’t have much experience with guys but my body seems to know what to do. I open my mouth to him as he kisses me deeper.
It feels so good, so right, and I’m ready to give myself to him—right here. Right now.
His hard length throbs against my hip and I hope he’s thinking the same thing. I hope he wants me as much as I want him.
I hope he’ll take me tonight.
Chapter Five
Fawn
The way he’s kissing me makes me want to melt into his arms, but it’s also awakening something inside me. Something hot and urgent and needy. Something that’s making me feel bold as I take his hand and slide it up under my shirt.
I’ve never felt so turned on before, and I don’t even try to hold back a moan as his possessive hand squeezes my breast. My nipples are pebbled and so sensitive as the fabric of my bra brushes against them.
It’s too much and not enough at the same time.
“Fuck,” he groans, grinding his cock against me as I shift positions on the couch. I swing a leg across to straddle him, then shrug out of my shirt and toss it aside. “Fuck, Fawn…” He shakes his head, his gaze flicking from my breasts to my eyes and then back again. “You’re so fucking sexy.”
I try to speak but my heart is beating so fast that I can’t catch my breath. He makes me feel sexy. That’s the difference between him and any other man I’ve known. He’s making me want this. And his hard cock throbbing underneath me is letting me know that he wants it, too.
He reaches around and unfastens my bra, letting it fall away as his hungry eyes move over my breasts. “Jesus fuck,” he murmurs, leaning in to tease my hard nipple with his tongue.
I gasp and press myself against him, then moan his name out loud as his teeth graze the sensitive skin. “Oh my God, Beckham… oh…”
He looks up at me with heat in his eyes. “Does that feel good, baby?” He has one hand on my breast, rubbing my already-super-sensitive nipple between his finger and thumb until I squirm on his lap. “Tell me how it feels, Fawn.”
Beckham (Heartlands Motorcycle Club Book 10) Page 3
