Last Mile

by Katie Ashley

  Once they left, Samantha and I were all alone. With an awkward silence hanging around us, I wondered what I should do. Was asking her to dance coming on too strong, or would she be offended if I didn’t? The whole gray area of friendship was a real pain in the ass.

  Just as I was about to man up and ask her, I felt a tug on the back of my shirt. I turned around to see Willow staring up at me. “Will you dance with me, Uncle B?”

  Since I was incapable of ever telling Willow no, I held out my hand to her. “Of course I will.” Once she slipped her hand in mine, I glanced over my shoulder at Sam. To my surprise, she didn’t seem pissed at my picking a six-year-old over her. “I’ll be right back.”

  She gave me a warm smile. “Have fun out there.”

  Willow jerked me along until we were in the middle of the couples. Rev hadn’t yet asked for a song change, so it was still a fast one. I started making goofy moves that rewarded me with giggles from Willow. She then started copying what I was doing. With her love of ballet, she was a pretty natural dancer, even when doing the sprinkler. When I looked back at the table, Sam and Mama Beth were both laughing at our antics.

  As soon as the song was done, I squatted down beside Willow. “Would it hurt your feelings if I asked Samantha to dance with me now?”

  Her face lit up. “No. It wouldn’t.” She patted my shoulder. “Samantha is really, really nice. I think it would be good if you made her your girlfriend.”

  “Oh, you do, huh?”

  Willow nodded. “Poe really liked her, too, and you know he doesn’t like just anyone.”

  I refrained from arguing with her that I couldn’t base a potential relationship on the fact that a deer—who had probably been after the corn—approved of the woman in question. “It’s good to know that Poe liked her.”

  “All the family likes her, so you should, too.”

  Once again I had to remember that Willow was just a kid. She was such an old soul sometimes. “Thanks for the dance, rug rat.”

  “But I’m the one who asked you.”

  I grinned. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it.” Pulling her closer, I said, “Now give your favorite uncle a hug.”

  “But, Uncle B, I love you and Uncle Rev the same. I promise,” she argued as she threw her arms around me.

  As I rubbed her back, I said, “I know. I’m just teasing you.” When I pulled away, I winked at her. “Now if you still want to dance, go over to Joe and tell him as a prospect, he has to dance with you.”

  Willow wrinkled her nose. “That’s okay. I don’t want to dance with him.”

  “Why not?”

  She shrugged. “Just because.”

  Although I could have pressed her, I already knew the response. He wasn’t Archer, whom she had a crush on. Back when he was a prospect, she would have loved to make him dance with her. Of course, Archer was twenty-one and totally wigged out by Willow’s crush. He worried at any moment one of us Malloy men was going to kick his ass for being a pervert. We loved to give him shit about that.

  “All right, then. I’m going to ask Samantha to dance.”

  “And I’m going to get more cake.”

  “You do that. But just don’t let your mom and dad know it’s your third piece.”

  Bringing her finger to her lips, she shushed me. “They’ll never know unless you tell them.”

  I raised my hand. “Scout’s honor.”

  She giggled as she ran off in the direction of the food table. With more confidence in my step than I felt, I made my way over to Samantha. She and Mama Beth were chatting like old friends, which was really nice to see.

  As I stood in front of her, I cleared my throat. “You wanna dance?”

  “Sure.” She climbed off the bench and turned to Mama Beth. “Don’t go anywhere, because I want to hear more embarrassing stories about Bishop when he was little.”

  With a groan, I swept my hand across my face. “Seriously, Mama? That’s what you two were over here talking about?”

  “I thought you liked having beautiful women talking about you,” Samantha countered with a smile.

  “Not when it includes stories that make me look bad.”

  “But they were sweet stories . . . and funny ones. Like the time you sat on Santa Claus’s lap and asked for a wiener as big as your dad’s.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Seriously, Mama. You’ve known Samantha barely an hour, and you break out the wiener story?”

  Mama Beth grinned at me. “But you were so cute and so serious about it. If only we’d had a video camera then, I would have sent it to America’s Funniest Home Videos.”

  “Okay, that’s enough. You two are not allowed to talk to each other ever again.”

  Mama Beth and Samantha only laughed at me. “Isn’t he cute when he’s mad?” Mama Beth asked with a grin.

  “He’s adorable,” Samantha teased.

  “No matter how old you get, you’ll always be my baby,” Mama Beth said as she cupped my cheek.

  As Samantha said, “Aw,” I threw up my hands. “That’s it. Let’s go dance. Now.”

  Sam grinned. “Now you’re a caveman barking out commands, huh?”

  Taking her by the hand, I led her over to where the other couples were. When I found a good place for us that wasn’t too close to the band or too crowded, I let her hand go. I then slid my hands around her waist and drew her close to me. Samantha wrapped her arms around my neck. At the feel of her curves against me, I couldn’t help the shiver of desire that ran through me.

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  “Just a little chill. I’m fine,” I muttered.

  We swayed in awkward silence. “So, I have a question.”

  “Shoot.”

  Fighting a smile, Samantha asked, “Did Santa finally bring you a wiener as big as your dad’s?”

  I threw my head back with a laugh. “Yeah, he did. I could argue it was the best present he ever got me.”

  With a giggle, Samantha said, “You’re terrible.”

  “You’re the one who brought it up.”

  “After that story, how could I not?”

  I scowled at her. “Did she tell you anything else embarrassing, like how I used to strip down and run naked through the streets?”

  “Nope. But I’m glad that you did,” she mused.

  “For the record, I stopped that shit when I was five. It’s not like I’m still doing it.”

  Sam waggled her eyebrows at me. “That certainly would be interesting.”

  “I don’t think Mama Beth would find it as cute and funny if I did it now.”

  “I wouldn’t think so.”

  “It’s safe to say I’d probably scar Willow for life if I did something like that.”

  Sam laughed. “I imagine so.” Tilting her head back, she stared up at me. “Speaking of Willow, I think she wants everyone to think I’m your girlfriend.”

  With a grimace, I replied, “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

  “You don’t need to be sorry. She’s just looking out for you and wanting you to be happy.”

  I chuckled. “She’s a mess.”

  “You’re so good with her.”

  “She’s pretty easy now. I don’t like to think about when she gets to be a teenager.”

  Samantha laughed. “I’ll admit teenage girls are pretty scary with all the hormones. I know I gave my mom fits.”

  “With the hormones come the boys, and I’ll have to beat the hell out of any guy who hurts her . . . or puts the moves on her.”

  “Poor girl. Between her uncles and her father, she’ll maybe get to date when she’s thirty.”

  I grinned. “Damn straight.” Cocking my head at her, I said, “As beautiful and sexy as you are, I bet you had half the men in your family keeping tabs on you and guys.”

  She laughed. “Yeah, I did. They would have been protective anyway, but when you throw in the fact that my dad had died, they were extremely protective.”

  “So you didn’t get to raise too m
uch hell as a teenager?”

  “Not really. But the truth is, I really didn’t want to get into too much trouble.” At what must have been my surprised expression, Samantha grinned. “Sorry to disappoint you. I guess it’s safe to say I’m not exactly a rebel.”

  I shook my head. “Oh no. I disagree on that one. You’re interesting. Mysterious . . .”

  “And exotic. Remember you called me exotic the first time you met me?”

  I stared at her in surprise. “You remember that?”

  She nodded. “You were the first person besides my mom to call me that.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. She always said I looked exotic like Olivia Hussey—the girl who played Juliet in the 1968 movie version of Romeo and Juliet.” At what must’ve been my blank expression, she added, “Sorry, I must be the only one to remember the play and the movie from high school.”

  With a sheepish look, I said, “I dropped out in ninth grade.” Before Samantha could say anything, I quickly added, “But I got my GED last year.”

  “Good for you.”

  “Thanks. I was tired of being a loser.”

  “You could never be a loser, Bishop. You have too much drive and ambition.”

  “I didn’t always. I was pretty much a lazy drunk when I was a teenager,” I admitted.

  “It’s hard for me to imagine you like that.”

  “Trust me, it wasn’t pretty. I gave my poor parents hell with all the trouble I got in.”

  “What turned you around?”

  “My old man. He had me start prospecting at eighteen so that I could have some direction.” Shaking my head with a smile, I said, “In some ways being in an MC is like going into the military, and the prospecting period is like boot camp. Being disciplined by all the men I knew and admired really helped to put me in my place.”

  Samantha’s expression turned serious. “Can you ever imagine not being part of the MC?”

  I shook my head. “Nope. It’s not only in my blood, but it’s the only world I’ve known. Plus, it’s how I met you.”

  She gave me a small smile. “That’s true.”

  “Don’t worry, Sam. The MC world isn’t going to bury me until I’m an old man.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “We won’t be living by violence anymore, so we can’t die that way.”

  “That’s a very interesting concept. One that I hope is true.”

  “You just have to trust me.”

  Something flared in her eyes. After staring at me for a few seconds, she finally replied, “I’ll try.”

  I smiled at her. “Forget about your feelings for the MC world and just enjoy tonight. Enjoy dancing with me.”

  “I am. I really am.”

  “I’m glad, because I am, too.”

  A teasing smile played on Samantha’s lips. “The first time I ever laid eyes on you was when you were dancing.”

  My eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Really?”

  She bobbed her head. “I say dancing—but it was really more like humping on the dance floor.”

  I barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I guess that’s the only real dancing I know how to do.”

  “You’re not so bad with the slow, non-humping kind.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  As I stared intently at Samantha, I said, “I really like dancing with you.”

  “You said that already,” she murmured, gazing into my eyes.

  “I wanted to say it again because I really meant it—it wasn’t just some bullshit line.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yeah. More than just dancing, I like being with you. I like the way you laugh at my stupid jokes, how you don’t take any of my bullshit, and how you keep me on my toes. Most of all, I like how I feel I can tell you anything.”

  Samantha’s tongue darted out to lick her lips. Although it seemed like a nervous gesture, it caused my dick to jump in my pants. “I feel the same way about you.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.”

  As the song came to an end, Samantha kept herself flush against me. Neither one of us seemed to want to move. We wanted to stay right there in the moment.

  And I knew then there was no turning back.

  FOURTEEN

  SAMANTHA

  As Bishop and I finished our slow dance, we headed back to the picnic tables. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t fight the overwhelming feelings swelling in my chest. It had been such an eye-opening evening—meeting his mom, hanging out with the other Raiders women, and then seeing him interact with his brothers. I had come to see him in an entirely different light than before. It made the line I had tried to draw between us even more difficult to maintain.

  “Thirsty?” Bishop asked as I took a seat.

  “Yes. I’d love a beer.”

  He grinned. “Give me two seconds.” He then trotted off to the drink table. After grabbing a few beers, he hurried back. “Here you go.”

  “What excellent service. Should I tip you?”

  “I could think of several ways you could pay me back,” he replied as he took a few long swigs.

  “Are you alluding to what I think you are?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe . . . Maybe not.” When I cocked my head at him, he winked at me and then launched into a conversation with Boone about the latest fights down at the gym. It gave me ample time to do a little thinking about what my next move should be, which was both good and bad.

  Gavin’s words came back to me, as if he were sitting right beside me. Even though it’s frowned upon, I see nothing wrong with getting a good fuck or two out of him to gain information. The problem was, I wasn’t sure it was just for information. I had developed a need for Bishop. After sucking down the beer, I made up my mind to stop with the teasing and innuendo. It was time to act. Would he want me, though?

  I rose off the picnic bench. As I set my longneck down, I could feel Bishop’s eyes burning into my back. When I glanced at him over my shoulder, his eyebrows rose questioningly. Slowly, I turned around. As I met his blazing baby blues, I held out my hand. His body shuddered slightly before he leaned up to put his hand in mine. I tugged him up off the bench, pulling him close to me. His warm breath against my cheek caused me to shiver with building anticipation. “What are you doing, Sam?”

  Without a moment’s hesitation, I replied, “Getting you to take me somewhere we can be alone.”

  He pulled back to look at me. Both longing and regret flickered on his handsome face. “You gotta know that nothing good is gonna come with me being alone with you right now.”

  “I know.”

  “And you’re okay with that?”

  It was the same question raging through my mind. Did I want to fuck Bishop to get in even deeper with him because of the case, or was it because I was starting to feel more for him than I should? In the end, I tuned out the voices in my head. “Yeah, I am,” I responded, my voice resonating with certainty.

  With a brief nod, Bishop tugged on my hand and started leading me away from the others. We went around the back of the clubhouse and then passed the pawnshop. As we continued walking, the lights grew dimmer and dimmer until we found ourselves in shadowy darkness. Bishop stopped us in front a tall chain-link fence that ran the length of the property.

  After gazing around, I swallowed hard. I’d never had sex out in the open before, and I could feel my once-firm resolve slowly fading. “Here?”

  “It’s really the only place we can be alone, with all the brothers being in from out of town. I gave up my room in the clubhouse.” A lustful gleam burned in Bishop’s eyes as he pulled me against him. I could feel the hardened length of him through his jeans. “But if you want, I’ll put you on the back of my bike and take you anywhere you want to go.”

  Deep down, I knew it was right here and right now, or I was going to lose both my nerve and my buzz. I brought my arms up to wrap around his neck. “I just want to be with you.”

 
; I drew his head down to where our lips were almost touching. We stayed like that for a few seconds, both of our chests heaving and our bodies trembling. This was our figurative cliff, and we were just inches from free-falling off it. Before we could think any more about it, Bishop crushed his lips against mine. For such a hardened tough guy, his lips were so very smooth. They felt as soft as velvet as they moved against mine.

  I tightened my arms around his neck, drawing him as close to me as I could. My breasts strained against the bulging muscles of his chest. I couldn’t seem to get close enough to him. I had to fight the urge to jump up and wrap my legs around his waist and grind myself against him. As his warm tongue entered my mouth, I moaned.

  He proved within seconds he was one hell of a kisser. He was also one for multitasking, because as his tongue caressed mine, his hand palmed my breast through the fabric of my dress. My nipple pebbled under his fingertips, and I gasped when he pinched it between his thumb and forefinger.

  While one hand continued to knead my breast, the other dipped below the hem of my dress. I sucked in a breath when it skimmed against my thigh before journeying farther upward. It had been too damn long since a man had touched me, and as Bishop’s hand cupped me, my head fell back, banging against the fence.

  “Fucking hell. You’re drenched,” Bishop said in a ragged voice.

  “I know,” I groaned. Gazing up at him, I said, “Please don’t stop touching me.”

  “Hmm, I like the sound of you begging.” His fingers began to work me over my panties, but I wanted more. I wantonly kicked my legs apart, spreading them as far as I could for him. Bishop read my mind by jerking my panties to the side and thrusting two fingers deep inside me.

  “Oh yes!” I cried, moving my hips against his hand. At that point, I didn’t give two shits if anyone at the party could see or hear us. I just wanted to come.

  Bishop’s hot breath singed my neck. “I love the way you feel on my fingers. Tight. Wet. Hot. I can’t wait until it’s my dick pumping inside you.”

  The combination of his words and what his talented fingers were doing sent me soaring. I cried out his name along with a string of expletives while my walls convulsed again and again.

  Before I had a chance to recover, Bishop had dropped to his knees before me. Both of his hands reached beneath the hem of my dress to tear my soaked panties down my thighs. After I stepped out of them, he pushed my dress up to my waist, his fingers digging into my ass. The cool night air danced along the heat between my legs. He tilted his head to the side as he gazed up at me. “Damn me to hell, but I’ve wanted to taste you since the first night I saw you.”