Filthy Ride: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Iron Bones MC) (Whiskey Bad Boys Book 3)

by Kathryn Thomas

  I felt Saxon’s eyes on my back when I walked to the bathroom, but he didn’t offer to take a shower with me. I was relieved. As much as I would have liked him to ravish my body yet again, in another room, in another position, I had to snap out of this bloody dream world I was stuck in.

  I opened the tap and watched the shower water run down the drain, waiting for it to heat up. When steam started curling up and over the shower door, I stepped under the stream and let the water pour over me. Every bit of Saxon ran off me and into the drain by my toes.

  This wasn’t the kind of person I was. I didn’t usually sleep with strangers. I didn’t go home with them and do it again and again. But Saxon was different. He was a criminal, a badass in the true sense of the word, the kind of guy you just didn’t take home to your parents because you knew without asking that they would disapprove.

  And still, he made me feel like I was special. Beautiful. Someone who deserved his time of day. I didn’t know how he did it. He’d never said anything romantic, done anything gentlemanly. It was just the way he looked at me.

  I took a deep breath. When I’d watched him make breakfast, he’d looked so perfect. And what I felt for him was real. I didn’t usually do all of this because I didn’t usually feel all this. But with Saxon…

  I was willing to make an exception. I just wanted him to feel the same way. I wanted him to feel like I was the exception, too. And the truth was I didn’t know if I was. Maybe I was reading too much into it, maybe I was willing something to be there that just… wasn’t. He fucked me. He took my body in every way he wanted it. I let him, because how could I say no? A man like that got what he wanted. Not just because he was the kind that didn’t take no for an answer, but because giving it to him seemed like the logical thing to do.

  I still wasn’t sure if it was just wild sex to him, the satisfaction he was going to tap into for as long as it lasted. Or for as long as he wanted me before he got tired.

  I shook my head. Surely that wasn’t what this was about? There had to be more. I hoped there was more.

  When I got out of the shower, Saxon had gotten dressed. He wore his black leathers again; leather pants that traced the delicious shape of his ass, a shirt that I imagined was sleeveless to show off the tattoos on his arms, and his leather kutte he wore that showed the emblem of Iron Bones, the motorcycle gang to which he belonged.

  He hadn’t showered, and I wondered if he was going to come back to shower after he’d taken me home. I was glad that he was dressed though. His body distracted me. I couldn’t think straight when he was naked, and quite frankly, I didn’t want to.

  “Let’s get you home,” Saxon said. I tried to read his face, but it was carefully blank—his business face—and his voice was neutral, too. The low, gentle tone he’d been using when we weren’t sleeping together, or the lust-filled growl he used when we were busy doing it, had disappeared.

  I nodded. Saxon picked up his motorcycle keys and started walking toward the door.

  “I don’t suppose we can take a cab?” I asked. I’d been in a hurry to get away from Kenneth when I’d gotten on the bike last night, but the dress hadn’t made it easy.

  “I have somewhere to be afterward,” he said. I nodded. Bike it was.

  Saxon got on first, and it took some effort to get on behind him without pulling my dress up and flashing the world, but eventually I was on and he turned the ignition. The bike roared to life, and I felt it hum underneath me. The power surge reminded me of what it felt like with Saxon. He turned the throttle and we rolled down the street, picking up speed fast until we were tearing past the tall buildings downtown.

  I directed him to my neighborhood and then the apartment. He slowed down once we drove into the area. There were people on the streets everywhere, and they looked up when they heard the roar of the engine. Some of the men glared at us. Women with children pulled their kids behind them—as if just looking at Saxon would get them hurt. When Saxon stopped in front of the apartment building, two women walked past and turned to look back at Saxon. They looked him up and down as if he was a piece of meat, a prize to be won. When I slid off the bike, one of them gave me a glare.

  “You’re getting a lot of attention,” I said to Saxon. He shrugged. Maybe he was used to it. I stood in front of him on the curb. He still sat on the bike, slouched back as if he could sit there all day. An awkward silence hung between us. The spell had been broken when we left his place, and kissing him goodbye suddenly seemed like it wasn’t the right thing to do.

  I didn’t know if that was what he wanted. I suddenly didn’t know if I was what he wanted. I took a deep breath and blew it out slowly.

  “So, Tanya,” he said, and his voice was warm and low, the kind of voice I wanted to hear from him all the time. “I’d like to see you again.”

  Those six words sliced through the awkwardness between us. Relief made me sag for just a moment. I wasn’t just a good lay after all.

  “I’d like that,” I said. He took out his phone, and I gave him my number. I was aware of the people around us. We were getting a variation of stares, from fear to curiosity to envy.

  “I’ll see you around then,” Saxon said and started his bike. I nodded and smiled. He nodded, too, opened his throttle to full, and tore down the road, leaving me standing alone in the street.

  “Well, you’ve been a stranger,” Margo, my roommate, said when I unlocked the door and stepped into the apartment.

  I shrugged and closed the door again, dropping my bag next to my feet.

  “I stayed somewhere else for the night.”

  “With Rough-and-Ready down in the street, I know,” she said.

  “You saw him?” I walked toward the couch and sat down.

  “Well, the man makes an entrance. But when you told me about him, I somehow pictured him as a little more…wholesome.”

  I chuckled. Wholesome was the last thing Saxon would ever be.

  “I like him, okay?” I’d told Margo about Saxon, but I’d left out a lot of details. Most of them, actually.

  “So, he’s just into you, just like that?” Margo asked.

  I nodded, frowning. “You make it sound like it’s strange that he cares.”

  “It is,” she said flatly.

  “Why? Just because he’s a biker?”

  “Because men don’t care so easily, not when they look like that.”

  I rolled my eyes and got up, walking past her to my room.

  “All I’m saying is that you have to be careful,” Margo called after me, but I ignored her. There were way worse guys in the world that hid behind friendly faces and clean slates. People like Kenneth. My boss had just short of harassed me, and he’d followed me home when I’d wanted him to stay away, and he was the kind of man women would rather go for between the two of them.

  Well, I wasn’t just any woman. And Saxon wasn’t just a standard, emotionless biker.

  CHAPTER 16

  I took back roads, the wind brushing my face, making my eyes water because of the speed. I put on the sunglasses I had in my jacket pocket. I didn’t wear a helmet when I rode because helmets were for pussies. None of us did. What happened when we wiped out? We made damn sure we didn’t.

  My mind was still full of Tanya and that body of hers that made me sit up and beg every time. I drove round to the diner and parked in the parking lot. I still had some business with Mr. Sherman in there, the owner who had seen my face on the security tapes. I’d used the diner as my hideout when I’d run from the cops a while back, and my face had been all over the security cameras because Tanya had distracted me in a big way.

  I needed to know if Kenneth Sherman knew who I was, and what it was going to take for the guy to break and never speak of me again. Not only was it my identity and the safety of the gang that was on the line, but I was starting to develop a personal vendetta against the guy.

  He was giving Tanya a hard time, not leaving her alone. And Tanya was mine. If he so much as touched her again, I was goin
g to skin him alive. And no, I wasn’t using a metaphor.

  A cop car pulled up and parked three bays down from me—just as I got off my bike. A man and a woman got out, wearing their uniforms. The woman was tall and manly, all hard muscle and no mercy. We recruited women like her for our gang, the kind of woman who could arm wrestle men and win, and not be insulted when they weren’t told they were pretty. But they fell on the other side of the line, as well.

  The man was average looking, not particularly built, not particularly scary. Not particularly anything, actually. I was guessing that when it came down to the good-cop-bad-cop routine, it wasn’t the man who was going to be the threat.

  I still had business inside, but I wasn’t going to walk in there and threaten the owner with the police in the parking lot. I had balls, but I wasn’t stupid. So I sat right back down on my bike and pulled out a cigarette. I’d rolled it myself, and I wished there was weed in it instead of tobacco. Cops made me jumpy. But that would be looking for trouble. The last thing I needed was for the popo to trace the sweet smell of the green back to the tatted biker.

  The police walked toward the diner, and the moment they disappeared, I took off my leather jacket and pulled the leather off the back. We all had jackets we could modify if it came down to it, and I didn’t want the cops to know I belonged with Iron Bones. Something told me they weren’t going to the diner for their coffee run; the station was on the other side of town, and there were plenty of good places that way. Police only came round these parts when there was a job to be done.

  I waited for about an hour before the officers returned. The man had a notebook that he flipped shut as he stepped onto the asphalt, and he tucked a pen into his breast pocket. The woman looked right at me, piercing me with a look as hard as I was betting she could punch. I looked right back at her. Avoiding eye contact was going to suggest I was guilty. But pinning her with a stare that matched her own never went down well, either.

  For people like me, there just wasn’t a golden midway.

  They walked right to me. Surprise, surprise.

  “Afternoon, officers,” I said, the first to speak. Might as well get it over and done with. The male officer nodded at me. He looked friendly enough, as far as law enforcement went. The female had her face twisted in a scowl that women flashed me more often. Maybe my reputation needed revision.

  “There a reason why you’re hanging out here in the parking lot?” she asked me.

  I shrugged and bit back my comment about it being a free country. “I was just having a couple of smokes before going in,” I said and nodded to the diner. “Don’t want to be rude to the non-smoking folk that spends their time in there, the little kiddies they tug along.”

  She looked at me with narrow eyes, as if she didn’t believe me. But it was true. The reason why I was going into the diner was the real catch.

  “That’s a nice leather jacket you got there,” she said after a moment.

  “Thanks.” I popped the collar and stretched my arms. My muscles flexed against the leather, a display of size. The tension between us flared. It got thicker and more intense, and she looked me up and down, not as a woman admiring me, but as an opponent sizing me up. If she was a man, she would have taken me up on the power play, but she was a woman and the male officer was just standing there, not catching onto the tension between us, not noticing we were measuring dicks.

  She walked around me. I sat still on my bike, waiting for her to finish her round. I knew what she was looking for. My kutte was folded neatly and packed into the compartment under my seat. Unless she found a good reason to search my bike, she wouldn’t find it.

  When she stood in front of me again, she glanced at her partner before looking back at me. Something passed between them, cop-speak of some kind, and the eyes she turned back to me were almost disappointed that she hadn’t been able to pin me as trouble. I slouched a bit on my bike, making myself comfortable. There was nothing to worry about now, not unless they had direct information with proof, or a warrant to search my personal belongings.

  “You know anything about gang activity around these parts?” the male officer asked, speaking for the first time. Maybe they were switching to good cop on me. Maybe Miss Muscle had given up because she couldn’t find a reason to take me to the station.

  “There are a lot of gangs in the city, officer,” I said. “Wouldn’t surprise me if there was something going on, especially in this area.” Muscles next to Good Cop glared at me, as if I was trying to be cocky. She was spot on.

  The officer shook his head, happily oblivious. “We’re looking for biker gangs specifically. We’re getting reports of gang members intimidating local business owners.”

  I glanced around the cop toward the diner. I was betting that the reports weren’t plural. Only one. Only here.

  I shook my head. “I can’t say that I know anything, but if I do see or hear something I’ll be sure to tip you off.” Right.

  The officer nodded and looked at his partner. She looked sour and suspicious, as if she was sure there was something she was missing, but I looked at her calmly, using the expression I knew how to use so well and gave her nothing.

  After a moment, she nodded. Not happy, but her hands were tied. It was beautiful.

  “Thank you for your time,” she said, and the two cops walked back to their car. I watched them only for a second or two before getting up and patting my pockets, looking for another smoke. When they pulled out, I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. I lit the smoke, and my fingers were trembling ever so slightly. No matter how cool I was in front of cops, they still scared the shit out of me because I had so much to hide. There were cons to every lifestyle. Being who I was meant a hell of a lot of looking over my shoulder.

  I dragged long and hard on my cigarette, filling my lungs with smoke, and then I exhaled so that smoke came out of my nose and mouth. It was ironic that the cops were asking about gang members intimidating local business owners. I hadn’t even gotten around to that yet.

  Sherman had seen my face, seen my kutte. He knew where I belonged, and I’d made things worse by snatching his girl from right in front of him when she’d been running. I hadn’t even gotten down and dirty with him and he was already getting the cops involved. Maybe he’d known that I would come for him and he was getting a leg up in the game. Maybe he was pissed enough to make Tanya’s life hell. Or maybe he was just a pain in the ass.

  One thing was for sure. If I walked in there now and the tapes caught me doing something to Sherman, they were going to slap an assault case on my ass. I had to go about this some other way.

  I got back on my bike and turned the ignition, taking off. I would be back later. It was Tanya’s day off, so she wouldn’t be around to distract me or get scared when she saw my ugly side. Good.

  I kept myself busy until it was nighttime. My mood was as black as the night around me, and I was ready to end this shit. I cut the engine and rolled my bike onto the edge of the parking lot. I got off and walked toward the diner. It was almost midnight, and there was a faint glow in the windows, as if a light was on deeper into the diner. An office light, for instance.

  The door had its ‘Closed’ sign on it. I stood to the side, hiding in the shadows, feeling the night. Adrenaline rushed through my body, and I pumped my fist open and closed. I could wait here all night if I had to. I wasn’t going anywhere until I finished what I’d come to do.

  There was movement inside, and a moment later the door opened and Sherman himself walked out. He wasn’t the intimidating kind. He had a small build and dull features that could blend in everywhere. He was average in every way.

  I stepped out of the shadows in front of him and watched as shock registered on his face before recognition followed suit. He looked over his shoulder, glanced up at the ceiling where the security camera hung.

  We were just out of reach, and I knew it. I’d seen the camera angles on the tape. There was no way he was getting me on tape again.r />
  “I’ll call the police,” he threatened. With those being the first words out of his mouth, I knew he was scared, but he had a calm face on. The guy was good under pressure, I had to give him that.

  “The police already spoke to me,” I said. I kept my voice low and calm, the kind of voice that had the potential of a threat and scared whoever heard it because they knew it, too.

  “I have proof that you were here,” Sherman said. “I can report you for trespassing.”

  “In a diner? Where there are always customers, and a waitress let me in?”

  Sherman opened his mouth to say something, but then he seemed to hesitate.

  “I have a video of you doing something unsavory to one of my employees. And I know who you are, which gang you belong to. I’m sure that the police can find a couple of reasons to lock you up.”

  That was true; I was sure of that, too. But his threats were lightweights. I wasn’t scared of him. He was a problem for Tanya, which naturally made me want to smash his face in. However, I wasn’t going to hurt him tonight. Much.