This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, events, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Wild & Inked: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Desert Sons MC) (No Saints in Biker Hell Book 2) copyright @ 2017 by Claire St. Rose and E-Book Publishing World Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.
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Contents
Wild & Inked: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Desert Sons MC) (No Saints in Biker Hell Book 2)
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
CHAPTER THIRTY TWO
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN
CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT
CHAPTER THIRTY NINE
CHAPTER FORTY
Books by Claire St. Rose
Wild & Free: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Burning Angels MC) (No Saints in Biker Hell Book 1)
Whiskey Sins: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Diesel Devils MC) (Alpha Rebels Book 5)
Inked Sins: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Fallen Angels MC) (Alpha Rebels Book 4)
Wicked Sins: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Santanas Cuervo MC) (Alpha Rebels Book 3)
Midnight Sins: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Heartless Devils MC)
Dirty Sins: A Bad Boy Motorcycle Club Romance (Minutemen MC)
Don’t You Dare: A Bad Boy MMA Fighter Romance
Dirty Secrets: Black Horsemen MC
Hands Off My Woman: Padre Knights MC
Hands Off My Wife: Black Cossacks MC
Wild & Inked: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Desert Sons MC) (No Saints in Biker Hell Book 2)
By Claire St. Rose
I gave her the ride she never asked for.
The reckless girl just crossed the wrong man.
Nobody steals what’s mine – especially not my vintage chopper.
But instead of dealing outlaw justice, I’m gonna put her to work for my MC.
Right after I put her to work in my bed.
JACK
She was supposed to be just a means to an end.
A tool for the job – use her and then toss her aside.
But this one-time relationship is turning into something more.
Something I never expected.
It started when she stole my bike.
And it won’t end until she’s bent over and begging for my mercy.
TINA
I was desperate for a getaway ride.
What could be better than the gleaming, vintage Harley sitting in the empty warehouse?
I should’ve known: nothing that good comes without strings attached.
And, needless to say, Jack Carter is less than pleased that I stole his bike.
He’s the only man who could catch me.
And when he did…
It was time for my punishment.
But the joke is on him, because Jack’s punishment is heaven to me.
In his tatted arms, I feel wild and free.
I beg him for more and more and more – as much as he could possibly give me in one night.
I thought the sunrise would signal our goodbye.
But it turns out Jack has bigger plans for me.
And when the job goes wrong, we find ourselves forced into an unexpected position.
Can I trust the man who swore to break me?
CHAPTER ONE
Tina Harris scanned the bar to check out her options for getting laid tonight. There weren’t many prospects but it was still early, just six o’clock. It had been a while since she had last felt a man’s touch, but after the day she had just had, she was definitely in the mood for some lovin’.
Being an ex-con made for a tough life. Washing cars at the local Honda dealer wasn’t exactly glamorous work, but when it was all you could get, it was better than nothing. At least it paid the bills and kept her out of trouble. Sometimes there was even a little extra for a beer now and then.
She’d pulled a year in the New Mexico State Penitentiary for breaking and entering. Normally she would have gotten probation, or at worst, a few months in the county lockup, but she had been in and out of trouble so much they had sent her away. Now, six months out of the clink and four months into her car washing job, she had finally caught a break.
She had already finished her daily quick rinse of the new cars to remove the ever-present dust and was working off the backlog of customer cars. That was her life. If a car got a service, it got a wash. After four months of practice, she could wash and dry a car in ten minutes, tops. She had worked off all but three cars when she heard a woman in the service writer bay giving someone hell. It took her a couple of minutes of eavesdropping, but she finally worked out that one of the service technicians had locked the woman’s keys in her car… the dumbass.
As she worked, she smiled to herself that someone could be so stupid, but the harpy started to get on her nerves. Finally, she dropped the power washer wand in disgust and strode into the bay. The service manager and three service techs were standing around while another tech worked furiously at the door.
While the woman browbeat the service manager about how this was making her late to pick up her kid at school, Tina walked up, shoved the service tech aside, and took the length of wire from his hands. Without saying a word, she pulled the shim from the door then shoved it back between the frame surrounding the door glass and the car roof at the proper place. After she re-bent the length of wire to make it stiffer, she slid it through the crack between the door and car. Less than fifteen seconds after she walked up, everyone heard the clunk as she tripped the power lock button with the wire. She opened the door as she shoved the shim and wire into the tech’s chest.
“Thank you. At least someone around here is competent,” the woman said as she slid into the driver’s seat.
Tina nodded, but said nothing, shutting the door behind the woman. She turned on her toe and had almost reached the big roll up doors when Arnie, the service manager, called her back.
She thought she was going to be blessed out, but Arnie took her to his office and thanked her. He also told her that he had been impressed with her work ethic and he was going to find something else for her to do … something other than washing cars. It looked like Car Wash Tina was going to ne
ed a new nickname.
She was jerked back to the present by the sensation of her beer being dumped into her lap. “Shit!” she cried as she leapt to her feet, arms held up and out like a bird of prey as the spilled beer spread along the bar and dribbled onto the floor.
“Watch it, bitch!” A big-boned girl sneered, wiping at her soaked hip. “Look what you did! You spilled your beer all over me! Goddammit! This was an expensive shirt!”
“I spilled my beer? You’re the one that backed into me!”
“You’re going to have to pay to have these cleaned.”
Tina barked out a brief laugh at the sheer gall of the woman. “Yeah, right. Like that is going to happen. If anything, you owe me a beer.”
The woman stepped in close. She stood a half-head taller than Tina, but Tina didn’t back off from anybody. Ever. “I don’t owe you shit,” the woman sneered.
“Kim, come on. Let’s go,” said a pretty blond as she tugged gently at Kim’s arm.
“Yeah, Kim,” Tina said, her voice becoming low and dangerous. “You need to back up and get out of my face.”
“Or what?” Kim challenged, stepping in closer still.
“Or you’re going to get fucked up.”
“Kim! Come on!” the peacemaker begged as she tugged at Kim’s arm again. “Let it go.”
Kim stood her ground a moment more as she glared at Tina, and then backed off.
Tina relaxed. Kim was a big chick, at least seven inches taller than her own 5’3”, and probably outweighed her by at least fifty pounds. She turned to go the bathroom, intending to dry off her pants enough so she didn’t have to ride home in a puddle of beer, when Kim shook off her friend’s restraining hand.
“Look, you bitch, you...” Kim said as she took Tina by the shoulder, but she never finished.
Tina felt Kim take her by the left shoulder. She pivoted on her left foot, turned with Kim’s pull, and punched her right in the nose. She pulled back on the punch, not wanting to break her hand or the woman’s nose, but she put enough behind it to rock Kim’s head back and bloody her nose.
Kim staggered back, her hand coming up to her nose as her eyes opened wide in surprise and pain. As Kim looked at her bloody fingers, Tina could see in Kim’s eyes that this wasn’t over. She got set to take Kim’s attack when the bouncer grabbed each of them by the arm. “That’s it, you two! Out!” he snarled as he dragged them to the door.
Tina didn’t resist and allowed the bouncer to lead her out, but Kim swore and struggled to get away. The bouncer released Tina and devoted his full attention to Kim as he hauled her to the door and unceremoniously tossed her out. As the bouncer turned to face Tina, Kim’s friend hurried through the door.
Tina held up her hands in surrender as the bouncer returned. “If you toss me out there, she is going to be waiting and it’s going to get ugly.”
“You should have thought of that before you took a swing at her.”
“Fuck,” Tina muttered as her lips pursed in annoyance and frustration.
The bouncer escorted her to the door and held it open for her. As expected, Kim and her friend were waiting, the friend tugging frantically at Kim’s arm as she tried to drag her away before the situation escalated any further.
“At least walk me to my car?”
“Not my problem,” the bouncer said as he allowed the door to swing shut.
“Don’t do it, Kim,” Tina warned as the big woman shook off her friend’s grip.
“Now I’m going to fuck you up,” Kim said as she advanced on Tina.
Tina knew this was about to get out of hand, and the last thing she needed was to be arrested for fighting and violate her parole. “You need to call your friend off,” Tina warned as she stepped away from the entrance to give herself some room to maneuver.
“Kim! No!” the friend shrieked in a last ditch attempt to defuse the situation. That, or she didn’t want to see her friend get her ass kicked.
Kim tried to use the advantage of her size by lunging in. Tina sidestepped the wild and over-reaching grab and fired another hit right into Kim’s nose… much harder this time. Kim grunted in pain and fell her hands and knees in the gravel parking lot.
Tina stepped around the downed woman and headed to her car. “Your friend needs to learn when to quit,” she sneered as she passed the second girl, resisting the urge to shake her abused hand.
“Her dad is a cop! You’re going to go to jail!”
She turned and watched Kim stagger to her feet as blood dripped from her nose. Sure enough, out came the cell as Kim wiped at her nose with the other hand. Tina raged to herself. This situation kept going from bad to worse. She was torn. She could just get in her car and leave, but the friend would almost certainly get her license plate number. That would lead to the cops showing up at her place followed by accusations and denials. And who would they believe? The cop’s daughter with the bloody nose or ex-con without a mark on her?
Tina watched as Kim wailed into the phone about how a woman had picked a fight for no reason then beaten her in the parking lot, sniffing and boo-hooing as she told her story.
The conversation didn’t take long. “Who’s fucked now, you cunt?” Kim sneered with a nasty smile, her tears suddenly dry.
Tina glanced at the friend, and though she didn’t sport the same nasty smile, she knew in an instant the friend would lie her ass off to protect Kim. It would be two against one.
“Fuck,” Tina muttered again as she turned and walked away while they didn’t know who she was. She could come back for her car later, after the dust settled.
Less than an hour later, while Tina crouched in the bushes across the road from the bar, she watched as the tow truck hooked up her car. She had watched the two cops that arrived, one obviously Kim’s father from the way he hugged and comforted her, systematically eliminate cars until only hers was left unidentified by a customer. It hadn’t taken long since the bar wasn’t busy.
Now they knew who she was, knew that she was on parole, and knew she had a record for various minor and not so minor crimes as long as her arm. As her ‘82 Corolla was hauled away, she pouted. As little as it was, that car was the only thing she had of value. Just as her life was beginning to turn around, fate had shit on her again.
She stuffed her hands into her still beer-damp pants and began to walk. The bar was near the run-down trailer she rented on the outskirts of Santa Fe. So she would have to walk several miles along side of the road before she would arrive at her destination. If a cop were to come along now, she would be hosed, but she made it to the apartment complex she was aiming for without incident.
It took her about five minutes of systematic checking, but she finally found an unlocked beat up old Chevy. With no tools to punch the lock, she looked in the center console for the keys. No keys, but a snub-nosed .38 was in there. She snorted and shook her head in wonderment. You had to be a special kind of stupid to leave a gun in an unlocked car. She didn’t find the keys above the sun visor either, but she did find the ignition key under the floor mat. Yep … a special kind of stupid, she thought.
After a stop at her bank’s ATM to withdraw what money she had, a whopping $260, she headed south on I-25 to Albuquerque. She had lived in New Mexico her entire life, but there was nothing there for her now save a parole violation and another stint in lockup. The low fuel light blinked on just as she entered Albuquerque. She turned east on I-40, headed for Texas, and made it almost to the east side of the city before the fuel light nagged her into stopping for gas.
She pulled the .38 out of the console and discretely slipped the concealed carry holster into the small of her back before she started the pump working. She fluffed her shirt to hide the slight bulge of the gun and entered the store. She had never carried a gun before, and didn’t like carrying one now, but with no way to unlock the car if she locked it, she didn’t want to leave the weapon in the car either.
She was browsing the snack aisle for road food when she watched an Albuquerque Pol
ice prowler ooze to a stop next to her stolen Chevy. It was possible the cop was there for gas, just as she was, but she couldn't take that chance. Without appearing to hurry, Tina exited the mini-mart opposite the two cars and casually strolled away so to not attract attention.
Frustrated that she couldn't catch a break, she stopped several times and discreetly checked for an open car. People in Albuquerque must not be as trusting as those in Santa Fe, because every car she tried was locked. Frustrated almost beyond tolerance, she decided enough was enough.
She lurked in the parking lot of a busy grocery store and waited for her opportunity. She looked for a soft target, an older person or a woman with a small child perhaps, someone that would be easy to intimidate. It didn't take long before a harried woman with a toddler in a loaded shopping trolley with a small whiny girl walking alongside her appeared.
Tina dropped in behind them and followed at a discreet distance until the woman stopped at a newish SUV. Tina quickened her pace and arrived just as the mom was pulling junior out of the trolley.
"Give me your keys and cell phone," Tina hissed, trying to sound as menacing as possible. She had been in trouble with the law a lot, but she had never actually held anyone up before.
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