Vegas Knights

by Maddix, Marina

  Of course she'd had second thoughts. Fear clenched at her heart when Rick had been evasive in answering questions about himself. Instantly regretting her impulsive decision to jump on the back of a stranger's bike, she imagined herself bound and gagged in a decrepit shack as he sharpened knives to dismember her. Then, in a moment of clarity, she realized that she was on the back of a Peterson-Knight touring bike — one of the most iconic American hogs on the road — with Rick Knight, the heir to a legacy, driving her into the night.

  Chapter Two

  Kelly let the rust-colored water run clear before stepping into the shower. As the warm stream ran in rivulets down her body and she lathered herself with the harsh motel soap, she smiled as she recalled their first night on the road.

  They'd only had to ride for a couple of hours to reach Rick's cabin. Thinking of it as a cabin almost made Kelly laugh out loud. It was no cabin; it was a mansion in the woods — minus the servants.

  As the wheels of Rick's bike crunched down the overgrown gravel access road and his headlight cast eerie shadows at the edges of the woods, Kelly again had a moment of doubt, wondering if she'd ever leave the woods that ran long and deep along the highway. As if reading her mind, Rick activated his helmet mic. "Worried?"

  "Huh? What? No! No, I'm not worried," she said a little too quickly.

  Rick's shoulders shook with laughter. His voice was thick with amusement when he responded. "You're perfectly safe, beautiful. I know the road's bad, but no one's been here for a few years."

  He paused, and Kelly sensed there was something more to the place's neglect than just a busy schedule. "It'll be musty, but I think you'll like it. I hope so, anyway. Spent a lot of time here growing up. Lots of memories."

  Kelly wondered if the memories were good, or if were they more like her memories of growing up — a disconcerting mixture of good, bad and the funky stuff that lies somewhere in the middle.

  They rounded a bend into a clearing, the headlight illuminating the front of a massive three-story log cabin-style house. Kelly gawped at the enormous front porch that ran the width of the house and wrapped around into darkness.

  Rick pulled the bike into a grassy area at the side of the house but the little road continued on into nothingness, suggesting there was much more to the property than just the house. She'd never been to an honest-to-goodness compound before, but she sensed that was no longer the case.

  Rick didn't cut the headlight when he killed the motor, allowing Kelly a better view of the scope of the place. His earlier offhand comment that it was a mansion might have been a slight exaggeration, but Kelly had never seen such a massive log cabin, didn't even know they could be built this big.

  Her head was still tipped back, taking it all in, when Rick dismounted from the bike, throwing her off balance. Kelly twirled her arms in the air comically to regain her balance but she'd leaned back too far and she was going over.

  "Whoa," Rick said, reaching out to catch her. In the movies, the big, strong, handsome biker would have caught the flailing damsel in his big, strong arms and then delivered a luscious kiss to her eager lips but, as Kelly knew all too well, life rarely plays out like a Hollywood chick flick.

  Instead, as Rick reached for her, Kelly's helmet smacked him in the chest, throwing him off balance, and they both toppled to the ground. And as if that wasn't humiliating enough, Kelly's considerable bulk landed fully on Rick's belly.

  "Oof!"

  Mortified by her clumsiness, she scrambled off him and into a kneeling position over his motionless body, yanking her helmet off as she went. "Omigod! Are you okay? Rick?"

  Worried by his silence, she opened his helmet visor hoping that would help him breath easier. "Rick? Shit, I'm so sorry. Talk to me." Still, he made no noise.

  Adrenaline flooded her system. Was he unconscious? Dead? What? If he didn't come to soon, she'd have to call an ambulance, but she had no idea how to get in the house to use the phone, and even if she did, she had no idea what address to give them.

  If he was dying, she figured she should probably try giving him CPR before running around trying to find a phone. It wouldn't occur to her until much later that her cell phone was tucked safely in one of the bike's saddle bags.

  Nervous fingers fumbled with his helmet strap and gently pulled the helmet free, one hand easing his head to the ground. She leaned in close, whispering, "Please be okay, please be okay..."

  A surprised cry escaped her lips when Rick's arms shot out, wrapped her in a bear hug, and rolled her onto her back, his arms pinning her down.

  "Boy, when you fall for a guy, you really fall hard." A wicked grin spread across his face.

  She was about to protest, to cuss him out, when he dipped his head and captured her lips with his. She stiffened for a moment, torn between irritation at his little rouse and sheer lust.

  Lust won, and rather quickly.

  As Rick explored Kelly's mouth for the first time since their gas station tryst, she pulled her arms free and ran her hands up his bulging arms to his chest, feeling his pecs flex under his leathers as he held his weight off her. The firm kiss he'd initially delivered, meant to subdue any objections, softened as she did, deepening into the kind of kiss reserved for new and adoring lovers.

  His tongue slicked across her full lips, dipping in and out to taste her tongue before his teeth nipped at the corner of her mouth. A calloused hand skidded up her waist to a full mound topped by an already taut nipple, his thumb caressing, stroking, teasing. His own bulge dug into her hip rhythmically, reminding Kelly of what was hiding in that leather-wrapped package. The memory of how he felt inside her, how so completely filled she'd been, sent shivers of anticipation through her body.

  The crushed grass beneath her provided little comfort, but she'd give him whatever he wanted right here in the dirt. Wrapping her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck, she pulled him to her. Still pantyless from their previous encounter, Kelly knew her heat would drive him wild.

  "Mmwaah..." Rick moaned into her mouth as he settled into place between her thighs. His lips left a hot trail as they moved from her mouth to her neck. Kelly felt him nestle his face into the crook of her neck and breathe her scent in deeply as their bodies rocked in time, his bulge growing with each movement.

  "Nuh uh. No, not yet," he grunted as he pulled himself from her embrace. Kelly groaned in frustration.

  Propping himself on one elbow, hovering over her, Rick picked a blade of grass from her hair. Holding it in two fingers, he lightly dragged it down her cheek to her neck and finally her chest. All the hairs on her body stood at attention and she arched her body toward his, desperate to finish what they started. "Rick, please," she whispered as her eyes rolled back in her head.

  "Damn, girl, you have a serious effect on me. But I think the next time we make love, it should be indoors, don't you?"

  Kelly blinked. Did he just say 'make love'? Her throat tightened and her heart thudded just a little harder at the turn of phrase usually reserved for more committed partners, not total strangers who were having a two-week fling. Why didn't he say 'fuck' or even 'do it'? Was it possible he wanted more than just a short-term fling?

  Stop acting like a lovesick school girl, she chastised herself. He probably just wanted to put you at ease. Besides, working under the assumption this was a short-term thing was much safer emotionally than constantly wondering if it could turn into more.

  Steeling herself against any further mushiness, Kelly forced herself to lock onto his gaze like a tractor beam. "Honestly, I could give a shit," she said thickly, hoping he would be so overcome by her brazenness that he wouldn't be able to resist taking her right here, right now. Instead, he laughed and rolled off her.

  He stood with some difficulty, Kelly noted with satisfaction, his massive erection getting in the way, but a quick adjustment and he was holding out his hand for her. She gazed up at him for a moment, the reflection from the motorcycle's headlamp throwing one side of his body into breathtaki
ng relief. Maybe real girls like me can have the occasional Hollywood chick flick moment, Kelly thought as she reached for him.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  After a quick tour of the first floor, which left Kelly suitably impressed, Rick led her to the kitchen. "I'm starving," he said as he opened a sleek stainless steel Sub-Zero fridge. The interior light blinked on to reveal it was fully stocked with fresh food. "What do you feel like?"

  On a day that had been full of surprises, Kelly knew a fully stocked fridge in a house that had not been visited for years should have been the least surprising part of it, but the sight of all that food left Kelly speechless. But her stomach wasn't. It chose that moment to grumble loudly.

  Rick grinned over his shoulder at her. "Omelette okay?"

  All she could manage was a weak nod. As she stood motionless in the middle of the kitchen while Rick pulled ingredient after ingredient out of the fridge and placed them on a marble island in the middle of the room, it dawned on Kelly that she hadn't eaten since lunch — a soggy tuna sandwich with a bag of vending machine chips on the side consumed in the dreary lunch room at work. A room she would never see again.

  Anxiety unexpectedly clenched her growling stomach into a knot. What was she doing here in this stranger's house? Without a thought, she'd tossed aside her entire life back home for the promise of two weeks of fun in Vegas. Her job sucked, true. But it paid her bills and then some. She would have only had to suffer through a few more months — a year tops — to save enough to take some time off to work on her career as an artist. She'd made connections back home, knew people in the art world. She'd eventually get her own high-profile show, and there would be little to no risk of her liver ending up on a stranger's plate next to some fava beans and a nice Chianti.

  Not that she thought Rick would ever hurt her. He'd been nothing but attentive and kind. Actually, he was quite charming, and her thudding heart lurched a little at the memory of his comment about 'making love'. She pushed that right out of her mind, reminding herself this was just for two weeks, nothing more.

  So was that worth what she would go back to? Having to pay a bundle to get her beater of a car out of impound, trying to scratch up enough money for rent on a rathole of an apartment, and nursing what she already knew would be a broken heart. She'd never been one for casual romances. Even a rare drunken hook-up had ended in a long-term — if ultimately unsuccessful — relationship. And she had no illusions that this was anything more than a fun fling to Rick.

  Besides all that, she didn't belong here in this multi-million dollar home with this wealthy biker-slash-businessman, who was so hot he could melt the polar ice caps. He could have any woman he wanted, and she was certain the dates he normally had wrapped around his arm when he went out on the town were more photogenic than she could ever dream of being.

  He was used to the best of everything, and here she was standing in a kitchen Emeril Lagasse would give his left nut for, dressed in secondhand clothes. She felt like she was in a bizarre Sesame Street episode: Which of these things doesn't belong...

  Reality was crashing down on her. Her breath came in rasps as her anxiety ratcheted up and a cold sweat broke out over her entire body. How would she get home from Vegas? How would she pay to get her car out of hock? How would she make her rent? How would she ever find a job that paid a fair wage? How...how...how?

  Great, now my chest hurts. An overwhelming urge to sit down rushed over her. Or maybe I'll just lie down, she thought as she crumpled to the floor.

  She heard the knife Rick had been using to chop mushrooms clatter against the marble counter as rushed over to her, but his words came through a gauzy fog. Her head lolled back as he cradled her in his arms, and she could make out his shape, but his features were as fuzzy as his words. In the meantime, why couldn't she catch her breath? Each one came short and shallow, and she couldn't for the life of her figure out how to make her lungs expand any more.

  She felt something cover her mouth and nose, and she brushed it away. She already felt like she was suffocating, thank you very much, she didn't want anything covering her face. But the thing came back, this time more forcefully. Omigod, he's trying to kill me, she thought as she flailed weakly on the floor, but Rick's strong arms held her so tightly she couldn't move. She was too tired; she couldn't fight him. Finally, Kelly accepted her fate and lay back to let the darkness take her. At least she wouldn't have to worry anymore.

  But the darkness didn't come. Instead, pinpricks of light dazzled her vision, sharpening it, bringing her surroundings into focus. Her body started tingling all over. It slowly dawned on her that Rick must have put a paper bag over her face because she was hyperventilating.

  "Kelly, can you hear me?" His voice, full of concern, was forming words she could understand now. "Take nice, slow breaths, okayn? Kell? You in there? Just nod if you understand." Kelly tipped her head slightly. It was all she could manage at the moment.

  Rick's voice was still strained, but she could hear the relief in it. "Good, that's good. I'm going to take the bag off now and I just need you to keep taking slow breaths, okay?"

  Kelly focused on her breathing as her world came swimming into focus. She was lying half on the floor, half in Rick's arms, with his legs straddling her. He had his arms wrapped around her upper body and her head was resting in the crook of an arm. She could feel his warmth on her cheek, his heartbeat racing under his shirt. She'd never felt so safe, so protected in her life.

  But as her head cleared, she was overcome by humiliation. Falling off his bike and onto him hadn't been enough; now she'd collapsed on his kitchen floor with a panic attack. Bet he's thrilled he asked me come along.

  "I'm so sorry, Rick," she mumbled into his chest. "I don't know what happened. Must be hungry." This was a fib, but she didn't want him thinking she was a neurotic weirdo.

  "Mmm hmmm." He was silent for a moment, one hand gently stroking the hair from her face. "Well, I guess there's nothing to do but get some food in you then."

  With that, he helped her into a chair and strode across the room. A glass of water appeared in front of her, and she looked up into his concerned eyes. More than anything, she wanted to be back in his comforting, safe arms, but she was also desperate to leave this embarrassing incident behind them.

  "I'm okay. Really." She didn't know that for sure, but felt he needed to hear it. He looked hard at her for a moment, then nodded and returned to chopping veggies.

  Kelly tried to make small talk but his responses were short, as if his mind were occupied elsewhere. Well, now I've done it, she thought. He's realized too late that picking up a strange woman at a gas station was about as brilliant a move as hopping on the back of a strange man's bike. What a foolish, stupidly impulsive stunt. The only thing to do was to ask him to drop her off at the nearest bus station. Better to cut their losses now, before any more damage was done.

  She was still going to have a tough time paying for the towed car she deserted at the gas station, but one day's fees wouldn't break her. Maybe I'll get lucky and it hasn't been towed yet, she mused as she swirled the water around in the beautiful cut crystal glass. Worst case scenario, she was pretty sure she had enough room on her nearly maxed-out credit card to cover most of the fees. Plus going home now would give her a head start on her job hunt. Besides, it wasn't like there was a future in this little adventure. He'd made it clear it was just two weeks, and the repercussions were just too dear.

  No longer in a panic, and with a new, albeit disappointed, resolve, she said, "Rick..." Then she made the mistake of looking up at him. His mop of thick, dark hair was adorably messy from his helmet — which made her wonder what hers looked like — and, at some point during the last few minutes, he'd stripped off his leathers, every ridge of muscle accentuated as it jumped and flexed beneath a black t-shirt and a pair of very thin, very snug, black moisture-wicking bottoms.

  He was a big guy — he towered over her six-foot frame — but seeing him half-dressed and hunched over the isla
nd chopping up red bell peppers made her realize just how big he was. He had to be at least six-and-a-half feet tall, and built like a pro athlete. He didn't have the look of a body builder; his bulk looked like it was earned naturally from hard work.

  Rick glanced at her from under his ridiculously long eyelashes, his sea-foam green eyes twinkling at her. "Hmm?" Those eyes made her stomach do flip-flops. Not the kind she had during her panic attack, but good ones, that warmed her from the inside out...and down. Just watching him deftly move around the kitchen made her tingle all over, and one place in particular.

  His face broke into a dazzling grin that stole her breath. His teeth were not quite perfectly straight, which made his smile all the more appealing, in Kelly's opinion. She wanted to feel them nibbling on her earlobe, or neck, or...well, everywhere. And, lord, those lips. Those full-but-not-thick lips. Now those were perfect. She wouldn't even have to feel them on her if she could just look at them all night long. Of course, being kissed by them wasn't so bad either.

  "Reminds me of the first time I laid eyes on you," those perfect lips said. It took Kelly a moment to comprehend his words, but then she snapped to, realizing that she was leaning forward in her chair, her jaw slack as she gazed at his beauty. Just as she did when he'd caught her staring at him at the gas station, Kelly glanced away, embarrassed at being caught. She casually swiped at her chin to make sure she hadn't been drooling.