by Chiah Wilder
“Not sure. Right now, we’re working with the president of the club. Banger is his name,” Gary said.
Snickers whispered around the room.
“What the hell kind of name is that?” Bob asked.
“I guess it’s a road name. I’ve been reading up on motorcycle clubs since we were awarded the project. Most of the guys have road names. But never mind that; we have a job to do. I think we’ll mostly be working with the president, and maybe his VP.”
“If it’s in Pinewood Springs, how are we supposed to oversee the project?” Baylee said.
“I’m going to need you and Logan to stay there until the project is complete. I’m putting you both on it. Gary, Warner, and I will take turns going to Pinewood Springs to make sure everything is okay, but this is your project.” Bob looked at the two junior associates. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy small-town living for a few months.”
Baylee’s mind whirled. She had to work with Logan every day on this project and be stuck in a small town? How was she ever going to survive? She knew Logan would do anything to make her look bad, so she’d have to be especially diligent in her work. If she did a good job with this project, she could finally achieve her dreams.
The only kink in the plan was working with this motorcycle club. She really didn’t have a clue about them, except what she saw in the movies or TV documentaries. Sighing, she knew the next few nights would be filled with biker research so she could grasp what kind of client she’d be working for.
“What’s the name of the club who hired us?” she asked.
Warner flipped through some sheets in a folder on his lap. “Let’s see… Here it is. The name is Insurgents.”
“Thanks.” Baylee wrote down the name so she wouldn’t forget. Before she arrived in Pinewood Springs, she’d make sure she knew everything there was to know about the Insurgents MC.
* * *
Baylee sped her car toward Jalisco’s, the Mexican restaurant where she was meeting her close friend, Claudia. Every Monday night, they’d have a couple of margaritas and talk about men, mostly.
Elated to find parking right in front, Baylee maneuvered her two-seater Mercedes into the space. As she walked into the restaurant, she was aware of a group of business men seated to her right, checking her out and whispering comments about her as she passed.
Their eyes are probably glued to my breasts. Ugh! What I wouldn’t do to have smaller ones.
Baylee was in a minority when it came to her feelings about her ample chest. Claudia kept telling Baylee to give her some, and most of her female friends had gotten breast implants to give them what nature had provided for Baylee.
Since she’d started developing, male eyes had been ogling her, rarely looking at her face first. She hated being judged by her cup size, and it drove her crazy whenever she entered a room. Many of the men would gawk at her, and that made her feel like less of a person.
Turning her head to the group, she asked, “Didn’t your mothers teach you that it’s rude to stare?” Before allowing them to answer, she tossed her long, brown hair and searched for Claudia’s smiling face.
Claudia had found them a small booth in the corner by a window, looking out over the parking lot.
“Sorry I’m late,” Baylee said as she slipped into the booth. “I really need a drink. Crazy day.”
“All your days are crazy,” Claudia countered as she placed the menu down on the table.
Neither woman had to look at the menu—they knew it by heart. Coming practically every week for the past three years made them experts on what was available.
“How was your day?” Baylee asked as she picked up a tortilla chip and dipped it in the salsa.
“Okay. I mean, how exciting is it to clean people’s teeth all day? Just glad Dr. Jacques pays well.”
“I hear you.” Baylee wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know how you do it. I couldn’t.”
Claudia shrugged. “It’s really not so bad. I couldn’t figure out all the diagrams and math shit you have to do. I guess we’re even.”
The women placed their drink orders—a mango margarita for Baylee, and a regular one for Claudia.
“How’s Logan doing? Did he get a girlfriend yet?”
Baylee groaned. “I still can’t believe you have the hots for my nemesis. I doubt he has a girlfriend. He and his buds go out a lot for happy hours, and I’m always hearing him brag to Kirk about how many women he picks up.” She popped another chip in her mouth. “These are really good tonight.”
The waitress returned to the table and set their drinks down. Baylee picked hers up and took a big sip. After she licked the sugar off her lips, she said, “And get this: I have to be stuck with stud-man in Pinewood Springs for who knows how long. Talk about bad luck!”
“Really? Damn. How did that come about?”
“I suspect it’s because we’re the two single ones in the office. Kirk is married with a couple of small kids, so I don’t think they’d send him on an out-of-town assignment. I guess they figure we don’t have a life.” She smiled wryly.
“This is the first time you’ve had to go out of town on a job, huh?”
“Yeah. I mean, the firm has been hired out to do some jobs in Las Vegas, San Francisco, and even Boston, but I never went on those. No, I get to go to the swinging town of Pinewood Springs, which probably has a population of about five hundred.” She shook her head in dismay.
Claudia laughed. “I think it’s bigger than that. I used to go there a lot when I was a kid. They have a large natural pool and all these cool hot springs spas.”
“Oh, great, I’ll sweat off my boredom. But the worst thing is I have to work with Logan. Not too pleased, but if I do a great job—which I plan to—then I’m a shoo-in for partner next year.”
“Never know. Working so closely together in a small town with not much to do? Maybe you and Logan will hook up.”
“Bite your tongue!” Baylee took another swig of her drink.
“Speaking of hooking up, did you go through with finding someone for a one-night stand at Deidre’s wedding?”
Baylee nodded.
“Oh, shit!” Claudia covered her mouth. “I never thought you were going to do it. Never.”
Baylee sighed. “I didn’t think I was, either, but then this drop-dead gorgeous guy hit on me and I just had to go through with it. He looked like he’d be great in bed. You know, he was the dark, smoldering type.”
“Did he deliver? Sometimes good-looking guys are shit in bed. How was your stud?”
“Awesome. Fucking awesome. It was amazing, and the guy didn’t stop. He was like a sex machine. Damn, we were at it like rabbits most of the night. I was so damn sore the next morning.”
Claudia chuckled. “You going to hook up again?”
“No. I don’t even know his name. It was strictly a one-night stand. Just pure sex, and it felt good avoiding all the chains of a relationship. Each of us could just walk away without any expectations. That’s what I wanted.”
“You don’t think about him or wish you could see him?”
Pausing, Baylee brushed her fingers across her lips. “I wouldn’t complain about having another romp with him, but I’m so busy with my career right now, I can’t think about being with anyone. And then there’s this project in Pinewood Springs. How could I start anything with anyone now when I’ll probably be gone for a few months? Anyway, like I said, I don’t even know his name.”
“You can come to Denver on the weekends. It isn’t all that far.”
“True, but I don’t trust Logan. I know he’ll try and sabotage me whenever he gets a chance. Nope, right now, the only thing that fits in my ‘love’ life is casual sex. The way this guy pleased me, I can go months before I’ll be feeling dry.”
“I hope making partner is worth giving up your chance of finding a great guy. Maybe this guy would’ve worked out. You don’t know.”
“I don’t think so. I mean, he didn’t ask for us to get together again. From the wa
y he acted, I got the impression that one-night stands are kinda his thing.”
They both laughed, and then Baylee changed the subject to Claudia. As she filled her in on her latest dating escapades, Baylee couldn’t help but remember how incredible it felt with the sexy stud inside her, or how he licked and traced her tattoo with his tongue. Stop, Baylee. Maybe getting away from the city for a few months would be a good thing. At least in Pinewood Springs, she wouldn’t be wondering every time she came into a restaurant or walked down the street if his face would be among the crowd. Pinewood Springs looked like it was the perfect distance she needed for the memory of his hands and mouth on her body to fade away.
Chapter Four
Pinewood Springs
Axe sat at the bar in the clubhouse’s great room, rubbing his finger up and down the neck of his beer bottle. To his right sat Rosie, one of the Insurgents’ club whores, a perplexed look on her face.
“What’s happening?” Jerry asked as he clamped his hand on Axe’s shoulder.
“Nothing much. Just came in to grab a cold one. Fuck, it’s sweltering outside.” Axe took a long pull on his beer.
Jerry glanced at Rosie then turned back to Axe. “What’s up with Rosie? She’s giving you the evil eye.”
Axe shrugged.
“He doesn’t wanna have any fun,” Rosie said.
Jerry raised his eyebrows. “Really? Now that’s a surprise. You gonna leave poor Rosie high and dry?”
“Guess so. Why don’t you take care of her?”
“I think I will.” Jerry grabbed Rosie’s wrist and yanked her to him. “Come on. I’ll have some fun with you.”
Rosie pressed in to Jerry and ran her long fingers down his side.
“Later,” Jerry called out as he and Rosie walked toward the small rooms down the hall.
Axe jerked his chin and grunted. Fuck, there goes some prime pussy, and I’m just sitting here drinking a beer. What the fuck? He kicked the bar stool next to him, knocking it down. Blade, one of the prospects, rushed over and picked it up. Axe narrowed his eyes. What the hell was going on with him? He’d been acting like a fucking idiot ever since he returned to Pinewood Springs the previous week.
It was true he was working more hours than ever in the bike repair shop, and for the past week, it’d been hotter than Hell. He never liked the heat all that much; he’d take a snowstorm over a heat wave any day. Maybe that was it.
But maybe not.
Motioning to Blade for another beer, Axe looked around the room. It was pretty quiet at the clubhouse, but then Wednesday afternoons tended to be dead. Most of the brothers were at work, and the few who were at the clubhouse were either watching the races on the big-screen TV hanging on the back wall, passed out drunk, or screwing one of the club whores or mamas.
Damn. I should be fuckin’ one of the whores. For reasons he couldn’t explain, Axe wasn’t in the mood for any of them, hadn’t been since he fucked his brains out with that hottie at Derek’s wedding. Why that should make a difference, he didn’t know, but he was pretty sick and tired of thinking about her while watching other brothers having a good time.
Axe never thought twice about a woman after he banged her. A few minutes after fucking, he’d push the bitch out of his bed to put as much distance as possible between him and her. That was just the way he rolled. He wasn’t the settling-down type. And if the way he treated the women bothered them, they never said; they simply left with a gigantic smile and the afterglow of several mind-blowing orgasms on their faces.
The citizen women he sometimes hooked up with would write their phone numbers on his hands or his chest, their eyes gleaming in expectation of another encounter with him. After he left, Axe couldn’t rub the numbers off his skin fast enough, and he never saw them again, at least not in the way they craved. He’d bump into them at the grocery store, or at biker rallies, and they’d rush over with hope in their eyes that maybe he’d end up between their legs for one more romp, the memories of his hot tongue on their wet mounds too much to bear.
Axe, being the sonofabitch he was, would flirt like hell with them, making them believe they were special and he may spend the night with them, but then he’d disappear, go to the clubhouse and fuck a few of the club whores at the same time. He preferred to do his main screwing with the club women or the hoodrats; there was less drama and little to no expectation that his coupling with them would mean anything more than pleasure for that moment in time. Once he was done satisfying himself, he’d tell them to high-tail it out of his room. Axe hated entanglements.
The club whores and the hoodrats knew the score. They were at the clubhouse as property of the Insurgents, and that was the way they wanted it. In exchange for keeping the clubhouse clean, fixing some of the meals, and servicing the brothers whenever any of them wanted, the women had the protection of the club, all the pot they could smoke and booze they could drink, and the kind of freedom they craved. The hoodrats knew the score as well, and even though they weren’t Insurgents’ property, they willingly came to the club’s parties to lose themselves in drink, drugs, and sex for a short while.
Axe loved the easy sex without pressure. Yeah, that was how he rolled, and it suited him just fine.
Until now. What the fuck?
He couldn’t get the woman in the celery-green dress out of his mind. The night they’d spent together had been absolutely wild. It was like she couldn’t get enough, like she was starving, and he was there to feed her cravings.
Her long, silky hair swishing across his body as she rode him drove him crazy. As he replayed the way her heavy tits jiggled as he slammed into her tight pussy from behind, and the feel of her incredibly soft lips peppering his taut skin with kisses, his cock hardened and strained against his blue jeans. The dark-haired sweetie did a fucking number on him, but he was still surprised that he couldn’t get her out of his mind, off his skin, or away from his dick.
“Feeling lonely?” a sultry voice purred. Long nails raked down his back.
He turned around and saw Lola, one of the club whores. Her green bikini top barely held in her tits, and her short skirt showed a glimpse of her curved ass cheeks.
“Hey, Lola.” Axe swiveled back to face the bar, his elbows on the counter.
“Hey, yourself. What are you doing all alone? Want some company?”
“Nah. I was just taking a break. It’s hot as Hell in the shop. Getting ready to go back.”
“I’m surprised you’re not with Rosie. She seems to be your favorite for the past few months. You haven’t been with me unless Rosie is there, too. I miss being alone with you.” Leaning in, she brushed her lips against his cheek and her tits against his arm.
Axe pushed her away. “I told you I have to get back to work.” Swinging his arm around, he added, “Find yourself another brother.”
Lola looked startled. He couldn’t blame her—he was startled, too. Did he really say that? He was turning down a good fucking with Lola? Something was definitely wrong with him.
Axe tossed back the rest of the beer in his bottle and stood up. “See you around.” He padded across the floor then walked out into the white heat of the day.
Chapter Five
An oppressive heat pushed in on Baylee as she left the cool confines of her car. The colorful flowers in large, mosaic planters and the elm trees surrounding the hotel stood still in the July heat. The dry, mountain air—thin and scorching—made her feel claustrophobic, like a mouse trapped in a shoe box. She hurried up the steps, seeking refuge inside the hotel lobby.
The cold AC slapped her face as soon as she flung open the glass doors, stealing her breath. If not for that, the first thing Baylee would have noticed was the four-story chandelier dangling over the atrium of the elegant hotel. Stained glass windows from when the Palace Hotel was first built in the late 1800s reflected their patterns on the marble floor, a kaleidoscope of color and brilliance.
Okay—maybe Pinewood Springs wouldn’t be so bad…
After registe
ring, Baylee picked up her tote bag and headed toward the elevators. Glancing around the bustling lobby, she scanned the crowd to see if Logan’s face would be among them. She was sure he was staying at the same hotel, although she secretly prayed the firm had put them in different ones.
“Baylee.” Logan’s chipper voice bounced off the marble walls.
Damn. “Logan.” She turned around and greeted him with a thin smile.
“What room number do you have?”
“I’m on the fifth floor.” She turned the keycard over. “Number five thirty-seven. I didn’t notice you when I checked in.”
“I’ve been here for about an hour. I came up a little early. I had to wait for my room to be ready, so I was hanging out in the bar.” He ran his hand through his short, brown hair. “I think we’re neighbors. My room is five thirty-eight.” He smiled.
Damnit. “Great. Well, that’ll make it convenient if we have to work after hours.”
He nodded. An awkward silence ensued as Logan stared at Baylee while she brushed imaginary lint off her cotton knit top.
Picking up her tote, she said, “I’m going to head upstairs. I want to settle in. See you around.” She turned to the elevators and pushed the button, praying the door would open quickly.
“Do you want to have dinner together? We could go over our plan of action when we have to present the blueprints tomorrow.”
My plan to avoid Logan socially isn’t panning out at all.
“Thanks, Logan, but you know, I’m really bushed. I’m going to order room service and turn in early.”
He pursed his lips, nodding his acceptance. “We can have dinner another time. It’s not like we’re leaving any time soon. Maybe tomorrow night? We can go over what happens at the meeting.”
The elevator doors opened. All Baylee wanted to do was go to her room, close her curtains, and lay on the bed. A dull throbbing in her head threatened to turn into something nasty if she didn’t take a couple of aspirins soon.
