I almost pulled away. Until my stomach growled.
Parking beside a beat-up motorcycle, I headed into the bar. The atmosphere was smoky, which meant I was in for a wild ride. The whole of Nevada had banned smoking in establishments like this years ago, so being in a place that didn’t abide by the rules meant there were things I needed to learn about the culture. I looked around for a place to sit, but nothing seemed appealing. The booths were dark, which was dangerous for a single woman. All of the tables were taken up by one or two bodies scattered about. Which left the bar.
The only illuminated spot that seemed safe for a woman out on the town on her own.
I saw a man sitting there with his back to me. His shoulders were massive, and his arms were strong. His muscles were tugging at his leather jacket as he sat hunched over the bar. He was scarfing down some wings, minding his own business as I approached the bar.
Maybe he could give me an honest review of the things.
“Those any good?”
I slid into a seat next to him as he slowly panned his gaze towards mine. I was taken with how good looking he was. His neck was covered with a tattoo sleeve, and by the looks of his left hand, his arm was as well. My eyes danced all over him, taking in his ocean blue eyes and his dark brown hair that was mussed with gel. His jawline was strong, and his cheekbones were prominent. He had these thin little lips that curled into a cheeky grin. I couldn’t peel my eyes away from him, even though he was the kind of man I stayed away from.
The kind of man I could see my father defending in court.
As the man raked his eyes up and down my figure, the bartender approached me. He was standing there, waiting for my order as I waited for the man to answer my question. I really did want to know how the wings were. I wasn’t going to waste my time with them if they weren’t any good.
But judging by the number of skinned chicken bones on his plate, I ventured to assume they were good.
“Best in town,” the man said.
“Oh, good. I was looking for a decent basket of wings tonight,” I said.
“What flavor?” the bartender asked.
I turned towards him in my seat just in time to catch him staring at my tits.
“If you look me in the eye, I’ll tell you,” I said.
I watched the bartender grit his teeth as I smiled coyly at him.
“I’d like twenty wings with whatever your house sauce in, a ton of blue cheese dressing, and whatever beer goes well with your house sauce,” I said.
“Twenty wings?” the bartender asked.
“Yep. And forget the vegetables on the side. No need to taint my meal with those,” I said.
The man beside me let lose a chuckle that caught my attention.
“Not a vegetable fan?” he asked.
“Not carrots and celery. I enjoy things like brussel sprouts and tomatoes,” I said.
“Sounds just as terrible.”
“Not when you put them all in soup. That’s the only way I eat my vegetables anyway.”
“Mushy and hot?” he asked.
“Sounds like my type.”
I glanced his way, and I could see him studying me again. His eyes danced along the line of my lips before grazing up to my eyes. He really was a striking man. His features were perfectly set on his face. They were strong but radiant. And his body was grand. Even with him hunched over the bar like he was, I could tell he stood tall.
His presence loomed over me like a cloudy nighttime sky as the bartender placed my beer in front of me.
“Here you go. Your wings will be up in about twenty minutes.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said.
“Sir?”
I turned my head back towards the man sitting next to me as he chuckled again.
“What?” I asked. “Can’t a woman be polite to someone who’s serving her?”
“Just don’t hear that word in bars like this much,” he said.
“Just because none of you guys have manners doesn’t mean I don’t have to use mine,” I said.
“Who said I don’t have manners?”
“Pretty sure you lumped yourself in with your own personal statement there,” I said. “I’m Harlow, by the way.”
“Nice name.”
“You can thank my father for it,” I said.
“Not really into meeting fathers.”
“Don’t worry. You didn’t strike me as the type… sir.”
A grin ticked the man’s cheek, pulling me into his personal space even more. Even though the conversation was topical, it was nice. Yes, he was someone I made a point to stay away from. Someone my father would easily defend in a court of law any day of the week. But he was so attractive, and his chuckle fell from his lips with ease. I wanted to know more about the man sitting beside me.
Even if I never saw him again.
“Asher,” he said.
“Hmm?” I asked.
“The name’s Asher. But my friends call me ‘Fox.’”
“Fox, huh? Because you’re handsome or sly?” I asked.
“Probably a bit of both.”
“What makes you sly?” I asked.
“I have ways of getting what I want, even if someone tells me I can’t have it,” he said smirking.
“Interesting. I take it that’s a point of pride for you?”
“And pleasure, depending on how it’s used.”
His eyes locked with mine and I felt a shiver ricochet up my spine.
“So, Harlow. What brought you out tonight?” Fox asked.
“The need for a decent basket of wings,” I said. “Yourself?”
“Needed some time to think.”
“The bar helping you do that?” I asked.
“Yep. A bit distracted now, though.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“The conversation went from internal to external.”
“Well, don’t let me hold you up from your plans of internal dialogue, Mr. Fox. I’m just going to eat me some wings and then head home.”
“I can put the conversation on hold,” he said.
“Doesn’t that defeat the purpose of you coming out tonight?” I asked.
“Not really.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because part of me came looking to blow off some steam.”
“And I’m helping you do that?” I asked.
“Maybe, if you play your cards right.”
“Twenty wings in our house buffalo sauce with four blue cheese dippers. Enjoy,” the bartender said.
I smelled the wings as he slid them over to me, but my eyes didn’t move. Fox’s piercing blue stare was holding mine as my toes burned with fire. I needed to stop this. I needed to stay away from men like this. They wanted one thing. Expected one thing. And I knew this. I knew this wasn’t going to end well. With the leather jacket and the tattoos and the way his primal stare undressed me as I sat at the bar, I knew he was trouble.
Men like this always were.
And yet, I couldn’t pull myself away. It was like watching an imminent train wreck while hoping it still wouldn’t occur. I felt my nipples pebbling behind my bra as I turned toward my food, hoping the smell of the wings would distract my swirling mind.
But it didn’t.
“You gonna eat those?” Fox asked.
“Yep,” I said.
“Let me know what you think of them.”
“Will do.”
I picked up my first wing and brought it to my lips. The sauce was fantastic as it melted on the tip of my tongue. The buffalo sauce was buttery and smooth, but the sauce itself was mixed with two things. A bit of honey and a bit of Worcestershire sauce. It was the most decadent wing sauce I’d ever had, and I couldn’t prevent the moan that escaped from between my lips.
“Holy hell, this is good,” I said.
“Told you. Best in town,” Fox said.
The sauce was so good I didn’t even use the blue cheese I had been given. Fox continued to nurse his beer at
the bar as I ate, my fingers coated in my wing sauce. I tore through the twenty wings like it was nothing, catching the stares of people around me as I sucked them all down. I was hungrier than I thought and my manners had gone out the window. Usually I ate things like this with a fork.
But tonight, I felt bold. Brave. Unique. Changed.
Funny, the freedom that filled my veins with just the ownership of an apartment by myself.
I felt Fox grinning at me as I finished my last chicken wing. The bartender’s eyes were hooked on me, his smile broad as I pushed my basket away. A few of the patrons clapped as I finished, cheering on the multitude of wings I had devoured. Someone tossed me a wet rag, and I began to wipe my hands off. They were sticky and in need of a good cleaning.
“You missed some,” Fox said.
I turned towards him with the rag in my hand, my eyes darting around my fingers. I was trying to find the spot he was talking about, but I couldn’t. He took the rag from my hands and wrapped it around his finger, then raised it to my face as my eyes locked with his. He ran it along my cheek, erasing the sauce from my skin as the rag trailed down my neck.
I felt my jaw trembling with want as the heat of his body radiated against me.
“Did you get it?” I asked.
“Got a little on this side, too,” he said.
He ran the rag down the other side of my cheek, running it down my neck and stopping just shy of my shoulder. Our bodies were close. Closer than I had ever intended to get with a man like him. He pulled the rag away from my skin and set it back onto the bar, then he wrapped his hand around his beer. He brought it to his lips as I pulled away, trying to shake myself from the trance his warmth had seduced me into.
“You gonna finish that beer?” he asked.
His question pulled me back to reality as my head snapped over to my beer. I had hardly touched it because of how good the wings were, and I sighed as I wrapped my hand around the mug. I brought it to my lips, tasting beer for the first time in my life. It had a bitter taste to it that quickly broke into something akin to peach, and I furrowed my brow as the bartender walked back over.
“It’s a summer ale,” the bartender said. “An easy one to handle for first timers.”
“How did you know it was my first time drinking beer?” I asked.
“A beer drinker can always spot a newbie,” the bartender said. “Glad you like it. Let me know if you want another.”
I took another long pull of the carbonated beverage as the alcohol loosened up my limbs. It warmed my body as my stomach digested their fabulous wings. I sat back into the stool, allowing the silence of the bar to overcome me. The mixture of the smoke and the smell of the sauces coming from the kitchen was intoxicating. This was a place my father would never be caught dead in. But it was also a place that was beginning to quickly grow on me.
“To a night of firsts.”
I turned my head toward Fox’s voice as he held out his beer bottle.
I clinked my mug against it, my attention turned back to him as I drew in a deep breath.
“To a night of firsts,” I said.
Chapter 5
Fox
Harlow wasn’t the type of girl I usually went for. She was innocent. Kind. A stranger to the darkness that cloaked this bar. She had no idea the kind of establishment Chester’s was. The type of business that went down behind closed doors. During the day, it was a ghost town. During the evenings, it was a place to get a decent meal. But during the early morning hours? It had a reputation for being one of the most ruthless hotspots of the drug underworld. Anyone who dealt in drugs and needed suppliers, peddlers or new connections came seeking people at this bar. People who would sit in the intentionally-darkened booths that lined the grimy walls of this establishment.
One look at Harlow told me she didn’t belong here. Not even a little bit.
She wasn’t the kind of woman I went for. I enjoyed the women who knew what they were doing. The type of women who knew what they enjoyed and had no problems begging for what they wanted. I enjoyed women who weren’t ashamed of their kinks and fetishes. Who wasn’t ashamed to ask me to indulge them in whatever fantasy it was they wanted for the night. I’d gotten myself into some freaky situations with women like those. Women who had opened my eyes to some things I enjoyed and women who let me do whatever I wanted to them.
Harlow was none of those traits. And yet, she was fucking hot.
The way she scarfed down those wings was uncanny. Here was this sexy woman, with her auburn red hair and her sparkling hazel eyes, sucking down juice-drenched meat like it was nothing. Her fingers were coated in sauce I wanted to lick off with my tongue, and her curves were becoming energized with the beer she found she enjoyed.
I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
And I wasn’t the only man that couldn’t.
The bartender’s eyes were wandering just as much as mine were, and I saw a few glances come from a shaded booth in the corner. Harlow was an innocent woman. Full of poise and dripping with traditional mannerisms. She had on a pair of jeans that hugged every feature of her ass and donned a yellow blouse that accented the crimson red of her lips. I watched them wrap around those wings, sucking those bones dry. I imagined her lips around my cock, sucking the cum from my body as I wrapped my hands in the soft tendrils of her hair.
I bet she would beg me for more once she tasted the saltiness of my body.
I was fighting with myself. Battling on whether or not to take this woman home. I knew I could. She was already putty in my hands. The way she melted into my touch as I wiped the sauce from her face told me everything I needed to know. A few well-placed compliments and a couple of light touches on her thigh, and she would be all mine.
But she was as innocent as they came, and I never had any passion to corrupt an innocent girl.
I saw what the biker club life had done to the likes of Sydney and Gemma. The struggles they were already enduring. I could see the toll it was already taking on Laiken to lead a double life in order to help us. The men I surrounded myself with were selfish idiots who couldn’t keep their emotions under control. None of us lived the kind of life that allowed us to settle down with women like them. Innocent women always wanted more. A house. A family. Stability and a life of happiness. That wasn’t something I could give a woman.
I wasn’t sure it was something I wanted to give a woman.
What I knew I could give someone, however, was a good time. And in return, all I expected was a good time as well. A decent fuck and a decent blowjob always sealed the deal for me. And I didn’t treat them half bad in the morning, either. I always left it up to them. If they wanted to stay, I’d put on a pot of coffee before paying for their cab home. If they wanted to leave, I’d give them money for the cab and always made sure they got into it without any troubles.
I wasn’t an asshole. I just knew I couldn’t get close.
My lifestyle didn’t allow it.
But there was something about Harlow I couldn’t shake. A daintiness to her that she seemed to want to abandon. There were movements she made that seemed stunted. Like she was second-guessing what she should’ve been doing. I had been around enough prospective members to recognize what was going on. She was battling something. Battling between the life, she had always led and the life she wanted to lead herself. Traits and mannerisms had been ingrained in her from childhood, and she was starting to think about them.
Wonder about them.
Question them about herself.
“To a night of firsts,” I said.
She looked over at me with her soft hazel eyes and raised her mug of beer to me.
“To a night of firsts,” she said.
We clinked glasses, and I tossed back the rest of my beer. Her eyes were hard on me, watching my every move. She kept sipping her beer, her pinky in the air as I grinned. She was proper, I would give her that. Not raised on my side of the tracks. She crossed her leg at her ankles instead of over her knee, and her shoulde
rs were rolled back. Even as she leaned into the back of her barstool, her back was straight. Her lines were stretched and her flat.
She was sucking it in, despite the twenty wings that now filled it.
“Have you ever been on a motorcycle?” I asked.
“I take it your motorcycle is the one I parked next to?” Harlow asked.
“Depends. Did it look like someone ran it through a fire before tossing it off a cliff?”
“More like someone threw it into the Sun and the Sun spat it back out, hurtling towards Earth before it crashed into the state of Nevada.”
“Hell of a journey for just one bike,” I said.
“But if that’s the case, then yes. I parked beside your bike,” she said.
“Ever been on one?”
“Nope.”
“Want to?”
I set my empty beer bottle down as Harlow’s eyes connected with the profile of my face.
“You want to take me for a ride,” she said.
“On my motorcycle. Need to be clear on that.”
“What other kind of ride could you be talking about?” she asked.
I grinned as I panned my gaze towards her, raking my eyes up and down her form. I took in her perfectly formed tits, and the small dip in her waist as her shirt fell against her form. I took in the length of her legs and the rounded mold of her ass. Oh, I could take her on some rides. I could have her raspily begging me for more as I pulled orgasm after orgasm from her body.
My eyes pulled back up to hers, and I could see her cheeks tinted with a shade of pink.
“Like you said, a night of firsts,” I said. “Wanna ride? I can take you on one. Your choice.”
“My choice,” Harlow said.
“Always. I offer, you take it or leave it. That’s how it always works with me.”
“Really.”
“I’ll never make you do something you don’t want to do. That’s my promise to you.”
Fox (The Road Rebels MC Book 4) Page 3
