by Siobhan Muir
“What about the car and the person in it? Are they okay?”
“Don’t know, don’t care.”
When I raised my eyebrow at him, he sighed and closed his eyes a moment—which was freakin’ terrifying when he was driving a bike into a snowstorm. I yelped in surprise but he never veered or even shifted, and we stayed on the road until he opened his eyes again.
“They’re unharmed and the vehicle isn’t badly damaged.”
“How the hell do you know that? And what were you doing driving with your eyes closed in a snowstorm?”
“Don’t worry. We’re perfectly safe and I got this.”
I pressed my face against his back and swallowed hard. We’re so gonna die.
Somehow we made it to wherever he was taking us, but it did take longer than just down the street from the coffee shop. I hadn’t turned my face into the wind, but I could sense we’d gone up, like up into the mountains. The snow and wind had gotten worse and I was pretty sure this might have been the stupidest decision I’d ever made in my life. Including Carl.
But he turned off the highway and I lifted my head to look around. The snow fell thickly and I could barely see a cute little motel straight out of the 1950’s road trip movies. Each cabin had a window box with lights strung over them to give a festive feel, and each door had a pine and cedar wreath hung on it.
“Where are we? This place is cute.”
He pulled up in front of cabin number two and let me off the bike before he turned it around.
“Give me a few moments to put the bike in the barn and I’ll be back to let you in.”
Let me in? I watched him disappear into the whiteout as I stood under the overhang out of the snow. The wind whistled through the buildings around me, but I couldn’t see much of anything. I shivered and I rubbed my arms in my coat to stay warm. My feet complained as the snow soaked through the blankets on my feet, but I didn’t have much choice.
He came back about five minutes later, looming out of the blizzard like a frost giant. I couldn’t hear anything over the wind and I jumped when he appeared.
“Dear glory, you scared the crap out of me.”
“Sorry. Let’s get you inside before your feet freeze.” He produced an old-fashioned skeleton key and fit it into the ornate lock on the door. “Please come in.”
I don’t know what I was expecting. Maybe shag carpeting, faux wood panels on the walls, and mustard yellow Formica countertops. Instead, I found cream marble tile with colorful and plush rugs, pink and gray granite countertops, and off-white walls with watercolor art hung around. A decent stereo system sat beside the TV, including a real record player, and all the appliances in the kitchenette were brushed steel. Instead of cheap hotel furniture, there were Papasan chairs with taupe cushions, and large throw pillows on the floor.
“Wow.”
Michael gave me a half-smile. “Not what you expected?”
“Uh, well, no.” I stood in front of the door, afraid of tracking snow into the pristine room. “I expected a dark space with the smells of old wood, damp carpet, and years of grime and cigarette smoke.”
He grimaced as he pulled off his boots and set them on a rack beside the door. “It used to be like that before we remodeled it. Took us weeks, but was worth the effort.”
“We?”
“The Concrete Angels Motorcycle Club. We bought the property and refurbished it.” He headed for the kitchenette to put on a real teal kettle.
I blinked. The Concrete Angels. Shit-oh-dear, that’s right. That was the group who allegedly killed the crooked FBI agent who’d been undercover. And Michael was a member. Who brought me to their…what was it? Headquarters? Hideout? Compound? I didn’t know what it would be called, but this cute, elegant suite didn’t fit any of those descriptions.
I bit my lip and wondered if I’d taken a chance on the wrong guy.
“Here, let’s get those wet blankets off your feet and warm you up. I’ve started the tea and I have some biscuits to snack on as well.” He appeared beside me and knelt at my feet, reaching for the ropes binding the blanket. “Did they keep you warm enough?”
My mind was still on the possibility that my gut had been wrong about Michael so it surprised me when he reached for the ropes. He rested one hand on my leg to hold me steady while he pulled on the knots. His touch electrified my skin as he gently held me still. I couldn’t move, mesmerized by his gentle touch and his delicious scent.
When he’d pulled the soaked cloth away he rose with more grace than I had on a good day and held his hand out to me. “Maybe I should run you a bath to keep you warm.”
I shook my head. “Only if you’re planning to join me in it.”
Where the hell had that come from? I’d known this guy for barely two hours and suddenly I’m asking him to join me in the bath? I mentally shook my head and bit my lips as his eyes flared with intensity.
“As tempting as that is, I want to make sure you’re warm from the inside out first.” He tugged me over to one of the comfortable Papasan chairs. “Let me hang up your coat and get the tea.”
I stuffed my gloves and hat into the pockets and he took my long wool coat to hang on a real hat tree near the door. I settled back into the chair as he headed for the kitchenette but my attention snagged on a faded painting on the wall behind the coats. Despite its primitive look, there was magic and emotion in the figure wearing a red hooded coat. Maybe it’s Red Riding Hood and I’ve just stepped into the wolf’s house.
Michael returned to the living room and handed me a mug of steaming tea. “Thanks.” I wrapped my hands around it and nodded toward the painting. “Interesting painting. It’s beautiful.”
He followed my gaze and raised his eyebrows. “You think so?”
“Yeah. It has real emotion in it. Better than that new artist in the Denver Museum. Did you paint it?”
To my surprise, he blushed. “Yeah. Years ago now. Fancied myself Michelangelo or some nonsense. I entitled it, “I’ll Be On My Way.” It’s just a bit of silly, really.” He sipped his tea. “Do you like art? Is that why you were in the museum, for the art?”
I shook my head. “I was there because the Fort Collins Bugle needs someone to do their fluff pieces. Fact or fiction, if it’s fluffy, it’s me.”
“You don’t do fluff?”
I shook my head as I held my tea. “I want to report on the real news. Things that make people pay attention and enact change.”
He nodded. “Tall order there.”
I laughed ruefully. “Yeah, I know. I think my editor put me on fluff pieces because I wouldn’t write things just for shock value. It’s not about the truth anymore so much as it is about selling papers. There are plenty of true things going on that would shock the readers, but they would expose the investors…” I trailed off with a shrug. Rocks and hard places didn’t have anything on this.
“But you’re still going to try to be the hard hitting reporter?” His lips curled into a half-smile.
“Bet your ass I am. I just need that one story to get my name out there and I’ll be set.” I nodded. “And I definitely have something that could develop into the story of a lifetime.”
“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows. “What’s it about?”
I shook my head. “Too early to say.” And it wouldn’t be good if he found out I was investigating the connections to the Concrete Angels. But isn’t it a good thing he brought me here? Now I could find out stuff first-hand. “I still need to do research before I make any conclusions.”
“Won’t that put you in danger?” He sounded honestly concerned.
I shrugged. “I think it’s worth it. People need to know, and the big entities like government and corporations need to be kept in check.”
“So you’re an idealist.”
I narrowed my eyes but his voice held no disdain or censure. “Maybe I am. Maybe I believe in doing what’s right even if it’s the harder road. There are certain fights that need to be fought. Change doesn’t come by s
itting there and watching for danger.”
He nodded, his expression thoughtful. “That can be a long and dangerous road.”
“Are you telling me I should just tuck tail and stick my head in the sand?”
He shook his head. “No, just pointing out what you might be in for, since you’re an idealist.”
I frowned. “Does idealist equate to someone who never calculates risk or takes precautions?” I raised my chin. “I’ll say it again. Some fights need to be fought.” This wasn’t a game to me. There were people causing real damage and it needed to be exposed. I wasn’t going to sit around and willfully ignore it. Not when I had the power to do something about it.
I set my tea aside and stood but realized I had nowhere to go. The blizzard had ramped up outside and I had no idea where I really was. Oh, this was a bad idea. Apparently, I was full of them tonight.
“Fuck.”
“What?” Michael eyes widened and his shoulders tensed.
“I’m stuck here, aren’t I?” I shot him a look to verify. He didn’t nod, but chagrin swept across his expression. “That’s what I thought. Got a place I can charge my phone? I need to call my friends to let them know where I am.”
“Right. That’s easy enough.” He set his mug of tea aside and rose. “Do you have a charging cable?”
I shook my head. “Oh, sure, I just happen to carry that around when I figure I’m going to be taken to an undisclosed location in a snowstorm after a party.”
He laughed. “Yeah, I can see how that wouldn’t figure into your holiday preparations. The charger is over here.”
He led me to a real, antique roll-cover secretary with all the little cubbies for pens, paper, envelopes and cards. My grandmother had one in her house when I was a kid and I used to love to poke around and use the random scraps of paper for drawing and writing. This one was much more organized compared to that one, but it also had spaces for the phone to charge, a ceramic change bowl with pennies and nickels in it, and a mug filled with pens.
The mug read, “The Best Place To Light My Fire – Cloudburst, Colorado.” The firefighter’s emblem emblazoned the side with a pair of crossed axs and Cloudburst Colorado Hot Shots written under it. It sat stuffed with pens and pencils in wild abandon.
“You’re a big fan of firefighters?”
Michael snorted. “No. My brother Luke brought that back for me from his trip to the Western Slope. He thought it was cute.” He pulled out the charging cable and offered it to me.
I laughed. “Who doesn’t like firefighters? I mean, they’re the definition of hot.” I plugged in my phone and grinned.
He raised an eyebrow as we returned to the living room. “Are they? What do you think about bikers?”
“Mmm, bikers. Let’s see...” I trailed off as I tilted my head. “I think bikers are sexy and mysterious. All that leather and hot metal between their legs?” I hissed and shuddered theatrically. “Sexy.”
A sultry smile curled his lips and supported my assessment. Michael was definitely sexy and mysterious. And he was damn hot, too. Firefighters had my respect for their work saving people and property, but I’d take a biker every day and twice on Sunday. Which is probably blasphemous. I eyed him as he tilted his head. He definitely didn’t look like an angel.
“So what do you do for the Concrete Angels? I mean, I know there’s an inner circle or whatever, but not much else.”
He nodded and sat back in his chair. “I’m the VP.”
“Holy shit!” I coughed around the tea. No wonder he had such a nice place to stay. “Vice President? Wow. That’s amazing.”
He shrugged. “It gives me something to do.”
“I’d say it’s more than that.” I frowned. “What were you doing in a random suburb of Denver tonight, alone? I mean, it’s Valentine’s Day. Shouldn’t you be with your woman or something?”
He shook his head. “No woman. At least, no one permanent who’d be missing me tonight.”
I don’t know why that made me so happy. I’d just met this guy. I didn’t know anything about him other than he was the VP of the Concrete Angels and he was sexy as hell. But that he was unattached just made my night way better.
“Then I’d say someone was missing out, but her loss is my gain.” Damn, when had I become this bold? I shook my head to clear away my inner alley cat, and tried to soften my words with a smile. “So, you just happened to be right outside tonight?”
He dipped his head and shrugged one shoulder. “Actually, my brother told me to be there. He said it would be a good idea. For once he was right.”
“Heh, yeah, I guess so.”
An awkward silence followed my statement and I saw Michael hesitate. I let my gaze swing away from him and tried to find something to say. This is a first. A reporter with no words. Yeah, well, I was stuck in the cabin of a biker club’s VP in a snowstorm wearing a little red dress and no idea how I’d get home. Yeah, this isn’t awkward at all.
Chapter Five
Michael
Oh good, I’m glad things aren’t awkward.
Sarcasm usually cheered me up, but sitting there with Haley and not knowing what to say or do was downright painful. I know what I wanted to do. I wanted to take her into the bedroom and give her pleasure. But I wasn’t getting the ‘get it on’ vibe from her, and the last thing I wanted to do was scare her.
Brilliant, what am I going to do now? I was an archangel. Surely I could come up with a way to make us both more comfortable.
“Would you like me to rub your feet?”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
Or I could royally screw things up so she’ll panic and hide in the bathroom all night.
“Your feet. I’m sure they’re cold from being outside. How ’bout I rub them to get the circulation going and warm them up?” That didn’t sound too creepy, did it?
“You want to rub my feet?”
“Yeah. Since I brought you all the way up here to get snowed in, it’s the least I can do to make you comfortable.” I hoped. If she told me no, I wasn’t sure what I’d do.
Luke had given me the opportunity to get close to Haley. Anything I did to screw it up was all on me.
She tilted her head. “All right. If you want.”
Oh, I definitely wanted. I was downright desperate to get my hands on any part of her body that she’d let me touch. I leaned forward and gently grasped one foot, pulling it up into my lap. Her toes were painted an iridescent purple and despite the bluish tinge to her feet, the color made them rather elegant. I rubbed my palms over her foot to get the circulation going.
“Oooooh, your hands are so warm.” She flopped back against the chair and closed her eyes. “I didn’t realize just how cold my feet were.”
I worked my thumbs into her arch, spiraling outward to rub the ball of her foot, her toes, and her heel. She moaned and sank into the chair, her body relaxing into my touches. It had to be the sexiest thing I’d seen in a long time. And I’m doing it to her.
My cock pushed against the fly of my jeans again, but I focused on Haley’s pleasure and making her feel comfortable. It must have been successful because she brought her other foot up and rested it on my thigh without prompting. I swallowed a chuckle and made sure I’d finished her first foot before moving to the second.
After a while, she stopped making any noises and her breathing evened out. I kept rubbing her foot until her head dropped to the side, her body completely relaxing. She was adorable lying there asleep, but she’d wake with a strained neck if I didn’t move her. I set her foot down and rose, trying not to wake her.
Yeah, like she won’t wake when I pick her up.
But Haley must have been either a deep sleeper or comfortable enough with me that she didn’t do anything other than curl into my chest when I lifted her from the chair. I tried not to read too much into it, but a warm feeling filled my body and my throat closed on me. I damn near choked and dropped her, but my angelic reflexes kept me upright and we made it to the bed
room without mishap.
But when I tried to set her down, she clung to me like a spider monkey and wouldn’t let go. Bloody hell, now what do I do? I bent down to deposit her in my bed, but her arms tightened and I was forced to lie in the bed with her wrapped around me.
At first, all I could do was lie there stiffly, and not just my body. The last thing I wanted her to feel was my hard-on pressing against the fly of my jeans. But when she didn’t stir beyond fitting her leg over mine, I slowly relaxed and so did my cock.
Thank goodness. I closed my eyes and tried not to breathe in her delicious scent. Sunrise and magic. Those words seemed the most accurate to describe what my nose picked up while she lay in my arms. Right, and how are you going to get up now?
There wasn’t a good answer to the question so I lay back and relaxed, enjoying her warm weight against me. Maybe I’d just rest for a few moments before I figured out how to get away from her alluring body and scent.
****
Michael
I woke sometime later to find Haley had rolled off me, her body curled on its side. I gathered my wits after being so deeply asleep, and slid off the bed without disturbing her. Hey, I’d gotten my wish, hadn’t I? So why was it so hard to walk away from her all beautiful and relaxed on my bed?
I rolled my head on my shoulders and grabbed the throw blanket off the foot of the bed. I always kept one there for added warmth. I shook it out and snorted at the design as I draped it over her. A pair of red foxes lay curled up together in a meadow of green grasses. I wasn’t sure if it was a metaphor for cuteness or a warning about the craftiness of foxes. It could go either way.
I forced myself to walk back out to the living room rather than stare at my guest and wondered if I’d be able to get a few more hours of sleep in my Papasan chairs. They were fairly comfortable and if I used the second one for my feet, I might get some rest. I turned to move one when someone knocked on my door.
What the actual fuck? It was somewhere around three a.m. Who the hell is up this early in a snowstorm?
