by Lilly Atlas
Gumby slowed the tow truck to a stop outside the garage. Before the vehicle was in park, Tanner shoved the door open and hopped down. He slammed the door behind him, leaving Marcie and Gumby still sitting in the icy cab.
“I’m so sorry.” She shook her head. Despite the chill of the truck, the heat of embarrassment had sweat rolling down her spine. Tanner stomped through the parking lot in the opposite direction of the garage. Hopefully a quick walk would clear his head and cool him off. As much as a hundred-degree day could cool anyone down.
“Ain’t on you, darlin’. Hook told me the guy seemed like a bit of a wank. I couldn’t help but poke him a little. I should be the one apologizing.” He opened his door and stepped out, his long legs easily reaching the ground. Once again, he held the door for her, and the gesture charmed her. “Come on, darlin’. I know your guys are excited to see you again.”
She scooted along the seat and climbed down from the truck, taking the hand Gumby offered for support. “Thanks.” Heat accosted her as she followed him into the large, open garage, which was adjacent to the clubhouse.
Four open garage bays lined the long building, allowing the men to communicate with each other while working. One other car was up on a jack in the first bay, and there were a number of motorcycles in various states of assembly. Some appeared really old and beat up to Marcie’s uneducated eye, while others were amazing, looking more like works of art than something you’d ride through the dusty desert roads. One in particular caught her eye. A shiny, polished bike, with an intricate design on the gas tank.
“Gorgeous, huh?” Gumby asked.
“I know absolutely nothing about motorcycles, but even I can appreciate the sophisticated detail work that must have gone into that.”
“That’s Striker, Hook, and Jester for you. They do custom builds and renovations, best work in the west.”
Impressed, Marcie sniffed and the pungent smell of motor oil tickled her senses. There was a low level of chatter from some men working on car and every now and again, a loud clank rang out as a tool connected with some portion of a vehicle. She ran her hand over the cool leather of the seat. “Must be difficult to part with it after all that work.”
“It can be, babe,” Striker said from behind her.
Marcie spun, and as he hugged her, a warm feeling of belonging bloomed in her chest.
“Sucks that your car crapped out on you, but I’m glad to see you again before you skip town.”
“Me too.” As she returned Striker’s affectionate hug, Marcie noticed Hook staring at her from about ten feet away. His gaze was dark, intense, and if she wasn’t mistaken, honed in on the three round purple bruises that decorated her upper arm.
Shit!
She’d expected nothing more than a day of driving and hadn’t thought to go back and cover up the marks after the car died. After she released Striker, she attempted to conceal the bruising by turning her body so her right arm was no longer in Hook’s line of sight.
He sidled on up to her and Striker. “What’s up with the car?”
Marcie cleared her throat as nervous butterflies flitted low in her stomach. Hook’s focus was still trained on her, like a caress against her skin. Her nipples hardened against the thin fabric of her tank top.
Oh God. Had Hook noticed?
A muscle ticked in his jaw as his eyes shifted downward a fraction. He noticed. The shift was subtle, and Marcie was probably the only one aware of it, but it had a devastating effect on her. Her panties flooded and she unconsciously adjusted her position. A slow grin crept across Hook’s handsome face.
There was no way he could know she was wet, was there?
Marcie scrambled for an escape from Hook’s penetrating stare. “It, uh, it won’t start. Totally dead.” She shifted her stance.
Tanner strode into the garage, his heavy tread indicating his continued displeasure.
“I’m not sure beyond that.” Marcie winced at the husky nature of her voice. She cleared her throat. “You’ll have to ask Tanner. Can you tell me where the restroom is?”
“Sure, hon, it’s in the lobby, at the end of the hallway to the left after the reception desk.” Striker pointed to the left side of the garage.
Marcie spun and scurried off, sure that Hook was fully aware of her cowardly getaway plan.
Chapter Five
Hook suppressed an amused grin as Marcie turned tail and escaped to the privacy of the restroom, her hips swaying with each quick step. He’d stared at her as though he wanted to devour every inch of her sexy body, which was pretty accurate to his actual desire since he laid eyes on her in the bar.
The majority of the previous night had been spent tossing and turning, hard as a fuckin’ stone, while thoughts of Marcie riding his cock flashed through his mind. Along with thoughts of Marcie sucking him off. And thoughts of Marcie moaning while he buried his face between her smooth thighs. Some alone time in the shower had taken care of the hard-on, but hadn’t done anything to dampen the desire eating at him since she walked back into his life.
He wanted her. Plain and simple. Hook had his share of female companions. Hell, all his MC brothers did. Something about the leather and motorcycles. Maybe even the fact that they danced over the line of the law more often than not. Bad boys drew women like flies to honey.
Thoughts of honey had him imaging how sweet Marcie would taste. He’d wanted her ten years ago, when she was far too young to do anything about it. In her absence, he’d managed to bury the attraction and feelings that had always been more than just physical desire. He was older now, smarter, harder. And so was she. She wasn’t an innocent sixteen-year-old. She was a woman and he wasn’t sure he was willing to let her walk out of his life a second time.
Tanner must have picked up on Hook’s poorly hidden interest because the stay-away-from-my-woman vibes rolling off the man were difficult to miss. He glared at Hook, eyes narrowed, posture tense as if he thought himself intimidating.
Please. If the pissing contest came to blows, Hook was one hundred and ten percent confident he’d have the prick laid out and crying in under fifteen seconds.
Unfortunately for Tanner, Hook was used to going after and getting what he wanted when it came to the fairer sex. About halfway through the night, he decided that he wanted Marcie and was going to have her. Normally not one to poach another man’s property, Hook justified it by telling himself Marcie didn’t seem happy with this bastard. And he was a bastard.
The purple circular bruises on Marcie’s arm were clearly made by a man’s fingers squeezing her fragile skin. No way in hell had he put them there himself when he held her arm. He’d sooner run his bike off a cliff. That left Tanner. For that alone, he’d gladly steal Marcie away, and wouldn’t write off putting a couple marks on the little shit as well.
“What’s up with the car, Tanner?” Striker asked, oblivious to the storm brewing between the two other men.
“Piece of shit’s only five months old and it just won’t start.” He shook his head in disgust.
“Okay, I’ll have someone take a look at it right now. Come with me.” He motioned for Tanner to follow him deeper into the garage where they could fill out some intake paperwork.
Hook took advantage of the solitary moment to wander into the lobby.
Karen, their President Shiv’s ol’ lady, sat behind the desk, on the phone with a client. She split the hours as receptionist with Jazmine, a spunky biker chick with hot pink hair and multiple piercings who’d been working for them a few months. Focused on her call, Karen gave Hook an absent wave without glancing away from the computer.
He slipped past her. With a quick-as-lightning motion, he reached down and pilfered the key to the single stall bathroom from a box on the desk. Normally the door wasn’t locked, but with Marcie in there it would be. Oblivious, Karen plugged away at the computer while she chatted with the client.
Victory. Hook crept down the hallway and slid the key in the lock, unable to keep a grin of anticipation o
ff his face.
The door swung in and Marcie, who was standing at the sink drying her hands with a stiff paper towel, jolted. “Hook,” she said, her voice nearly a shriek. Her hand flew to her chest, as though trying to hold her racing heart in place. “Jesus, you scared me. I locked the door. How did you get in here?”
He held out his hand, dangling the key from his pinky finger.
Marcie chuckled, the sound shaky and a bit unsure. She crumpled the paper towel back and forth between her hands. “You make a habit of barging in on women in the bathroom?”
Hook’s eyes were drawn to the bruising on her arm like a magnet. Displeasure filled him, warring with the desire she evoked. Still silent, he pulled the paper from her hands and tossed it in the trash.
Close enough to smell the sweet fragrance wafting off her golden hair; he gently wrapped a hand around her arm, right above her elbow. He held it in place as he examined the angry marks. Tanner would pay for this. It wasn’t a question. The man would not leave town until he understood that marking Marcie was unacceptable.
At least marking her in anger. Hook’s cock swelled at the thought of leaving a few signs of pleasure on her incredible body.
Marcie couldn’t breathe. Her heart raced and blood pounded in her ears, but not in fear. Not like it had this morning, in another bathroom, with a different man equally close. Hook’s gentle touch set off a shock wave of longing. Both physical and emotional. The tender way he caressed the sore skin of her arm made her want to weep.
Accompanied by his touch was an intense feeling of homecoming, belonging, acceptance, and a strong dose of desire. With each light stroke of his strong finger, ripples of electricity travelled up her arm, finding their way to her aching nipples.
Mesmerized, she watched his handsome face cloud over as he inspected her. Clearly, he’d figured out where the bruising came from. Part of Marcie was embarrassed, not wanting him to see her as any kind of victim or weak female while the other part reveled in his singular attentiveness. “I’m fine, Hook,” she whispered, the intimacy of the moment seeming to demand quietly spoken words.
Hook maintained his silence as he bent his head, replacing his wandering finger with the gentle brush of his full lips. A lump of emotion formed in Marcie’s throat and grew thicker with each soft kiss on her flesh. Her eyelids drifted down and pleasure coursed through her. She wasn’t sure what the hell was happening, but it was too good to question.
Hook drew back and Marcie felt the acute loss of his affection. With a contented sigh, she let her eyes flutter open, and found herself staring into the depths of Hook’s deep brown eyes. Desire and lust smoldered in his gaze, promising her she wasn’t the only one affected by the chemistry sizzling between them.
Marcie’s brain screamed at her to stop, stop reaching for this man she once knew, but was a stranger to her now. This older version was stronger, sexier, and more dangerous than the boy she’d grown up with. It would be so easy to fall into him, let him hold her, pleasure her, comfort her. But when it was over, she’d still be alone, and a little weaker for having let him shoulder some of her burdens. Then the next time she needed to be tough and stand on her own, she’d remember what it felt like to have Hook, and it would be just a bit harder to go on alone.
But the temptation was there. And it was like the mighty pull of a powerful magnet. Possibly stronger than she could resist.
Her hands connected with his chest, fisting the soft material of his worn gray T-shirt, and dragged his body against her own. The feel of his muscular frame making contact with her, even through layers of clothing, was enough to ignite the incendiary passion that had been simmering since she’d seen him last night.
Hook’s mouth descended and all rational thoughts fled. He fused his lips to hers in a kiss so hot, so intense, her knees wobbled. Need like she’d never known coursed through her and were it not for Hook walking her backward until she connected with the side of the bathroom stall, trapping her against it, she would have slid to a boneless puddle on the floor.
Hook devoured her mouth, sweeping his tongue inside to duel with hers. He raked her bottom lip between his teeth before trailing a path of fiery kisses along the sensitive skin of her jaw. Marcie lifted one leg, securing it around his trim hips and shamelessly tilted her pelvis, looking for some friction to ease the consuming ache that had developed between her legs.
She moaned as his mouth met the spot where her neck dipped to her shoulder. He bit down lightly on the taut tendon, then soothed the sting with his tongue. At the same time, his hands slid down her back, palming her ass and holding her even closer, directly against his erection.
Ripples of pleasure shot from everywhere Hook touched, overloading her brain with endorphins. Moisture pooled between her legs and her pussy clenched as though protesting its vacant state. Could Hook sense it? Did he know she was more aroused by his kiss and over-the-clothes petting than she’d ever been in her life? She wanted him inside her. If he could make her burn with just one kiss, their joining would be explosive.
“Hook? Where the fuck are you, bro? Striker needs you to order a part for the Audi.” A thunderous voice rang out from the lobby and the spell was broken.
Chest heaving, Marcie tried to unwind her leg from around his hips, but he still held her ass, rocking her pelvis firmly against his arousal. She stared at him wide-eyed, a bit embarrassed by her uninhibited behavior.
“There’s no fucking way you have this with him,” Hook whispered, his voice strained, like he was struggling to control himself as he referenced her relationship with Tanner. He inhaled a slow, deep breath. “Christ, Marcie, I can fucking feel how much you want me. You’re hot as hell, even through your clothes.”
“Oh my God.” Mortified, Marcie pushed against his chest. Time to dislodge herself before she died of humiliation.
He tightened his grip and prevented her escape. “No way, baby. Don’t you dare be ashamed. It’s fuckin’ hot.”
“I can’t believe…I mean I’ve never…” How to explain this brazen behavior? But Hook didn’t seem to be listening. His gaze had shifted a little lower, focused on her neck.
“What’s wrong?” She drew one hand up to her neck.
Finally releasing her bottom, Hook smoothed one finger over the junction between her shoulder and neck. “I left my mark on you,” he said with a smug grin.
“What!” Marcie was still whispering but the sound had become desperate. She wiggled her hips and brought her leg back down ignoring Hook’s groan of frustration as she bumped against his still hard cock and turned toward the mirror. Sure enough, a small maroon spot marred her skin. “Everyone will see!” She couldn’t keep the worry from her voice.
Hook moved in behind her, ran his hands up her sides, and placed a soothing kiss over the mark.
“Oh no you don’t.” Over her shoulder, Marcie smacked the center of his forehead and shoved him off her neck.
With a soft laugh, he slid a finger under the strap of her tank top and lifted, moving it ever so slightly to the right, directly over the love bite. “There, now you and I are the only ones who will know.” His eyes held a mischievous glow.
“Hook! What the fuck, man?” A pounding on the door had Marcie jumping out of her skin.
“I’m coming, dickhead!” Hook responded before turning his attention back to Marcie. “We both would have been if I’d had five more minutes.” He winked. “I’ll go out first, wait one minute until I get Jester out of the lobby then you can follow.”
Marcie nodded her approval. Hook spun her around and gave her a quick kiss before pivoting on his heel and heading toward the door.
“Hook, wait.” The words flew out of her mouth without her brain’s consent.
He turned and raised a brow in question.
“It’s never been like that.” She swallowed and held his gaze. She wasn’t one to put her emotional cards on the table, but in for a penny, in for a pound. “With him. And it’s over. I told him this morning. He was…” Sh
e rubbed a hand over the abused skin of her arm. “Well, it’s just over.”
Hook dipped his chin once, a triumphant smile on his face. “Good to know.” He winked and slipped out to the lobby.
Marcie smiled and fanned herself, her eyes riveted to his tight ass flexing against the denim as he walked. Her head spun with the events of the past fifteen hours. Feelings she’d locked away in a vault the day she moved, rushed her like a linebacker. She’d missed it here. Maybe she’d just missed Hook and Striker. Maybe she’d sacrificed something by becoming so self-sufficient. Connections, relationships.
No. That wasn’t it.
It was something much more basic. Pheromones, hormones, lust. That’s all it was. Her resolve was stronger than her baser desires. She could overcome it. All she needed to do was remember what life was like when she knew Hook and Striker. How she’d been a helpless little girl who needed others to protect her, help her, take care of her. She didn’t need any of that now. Hook might look like the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, but he didn’t fit into the new life she’d created for herself.
She was strong. She could triumph over a fierce attraction to a man…maybe.
Chapter Six
Hook ran through the garage’s tool inventory as he emerged from the bathroom. All his mental faculties went toward willing his erection to go down before he reached the end of the hallway and encountered an impatiently waiting Jester. Luckily, it seemed to work and he was decent by the time his oversized friend spotted him entering the reception area.
“Jesus, bro, I was about to tell Shiv to charge you rent. Everything okay in there?” Jester patted his stomach in case Hook didn’t pick up on his meaning. His customary smirk was plastered on his face. The man wasn’t happy unless he was busting someone’s balls.
