Kiss or Kill Under the Northern Lights

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Kiss or Kill Under the Northern Lights Page 7

by Susan Johnson


  He gave himself a mental shake and went on before she could comment. “And then there’s Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec.” He paused as her floral scent drifted over him; what would it be like to see Lucy the way the artist might have? “Henri painted more, um, suggestive stuff … and nudes.”

  “Hmm.” She leaned toward him and for a crazy moment he thought she was going to kiss him. Instead she traced the edge of his tattoo with her finger, leaving a tingling sensation in its wake. “More art,” she murmured.

  “What?”

  “Your body,” she said. “It’s like art.”

  Desire shifted through him and he sucked in a breath.

  Uh-oh.

  He liked this woman.

  A lot.

  But they were too different, he reminded himself.

  She lifted her head slowly, as if sensing a change in him. Her hand flowed over his shoulder and her eyes met his.

  The way she looked at him made his skin prickle with electricity. It wasn’t just that she made him feel attractive; it was that she made him feel… special. Which was so damn cheesy he thought he’d choke. But it was true; she erased the doubt and frustration and made him see himself in a different light…

  Kiss me, her eyes said.

  So he did.

  She tasted like peppermint and chocolate. He worked over her lips with gentle suction. He slid his tongue along her lip, and she opened to him. His hand came up her back and into her long, lustrous hair.

  She sighed, her body relaxing into his, and her tongue did marvelous acrobatics with his. He felt himself becoming aroused.

  “Kerry…” She gave him a slight push.

  “Uh—sorry.” He backed up to give her space.

  “I didn’t mean… it’s not that...”

  “Hey, you don’t have to explain.” He smiled shakily. Lucy wasn’t like the women he typically kissed; she was in a league of her own. “Besides, it’s just a first date.”

  She gave him a relieved smile. “Does that mean there will be a second date?”

  He hadn’t thought that far ahead, but…

  “Hell, yeah,” he said. “Um, that is, if you agree.”

  Now her smile was genuine. “I agree.”

  7

  “I’m heading out,” Vince said. “It’s just you. Want me to drop the overhead door before I go?”

  “Nah, I like the breeze,” Kerry said. “I’ll shut it when I go. I just want to get this hammered out so it’s ready on Monday.”

  “Sounds good.” Vince headed for the side door. “Don’t forget the barbeque tomorrow. Tori’s expecting you.”

  “I’ll be there.” Vince and Tori both worked at the shop and had recently become a couple. What would it be like to bring Lucy to the barbeque, to be a couple? He shook his head; since when did he bring women to social events? Not that he’d been to many…

  Kerry sighed; the only thing that wasn’t confusing lately was the motorcycles. So that’s what he focused on.

  Dusk was falling when he heard footsteps. He looked up.

  “Yo, Merc.” It was Chaff. Kerry wasn’t surprised; he’d been expecting him—or Buck—for days. He was only surprised he hadn’t heard Chaff’s bike; he must have been really focused on the motorcycle.

  “Hey, Chaff.” Kerry’s eyes darted to Laz’s office. Even though Vince said he was gone, Laz was known to work odd hours sometimes. But it was dark.

  “Haven’t seen you around the clubhouse,” Chaff said.

  “Yeah. Sorry about that.” Kerry shifted a wrench from one hand to another. “I should have come by. I’ve been working a lot of hours to pay back Laz for that chopper I crashed.”

  Chaff nodded. “How’s the head?”

  “It’s good,” Kerry said. “But like I told you, Doc told me to stay off the bike for a while.”

  “Yeah.” Chaff let the word hang there, and Kerry knew what was coming. “Got some action at the reservoir this weekend.” The implications were clear; Kerry was expected.

  Kerry took a breath. “About that…”

  Chaff’s eyes narrowed, and Kerry reminded himself how much he liked his job at Lazlo’s.

  “Look, I appreciate you guys, you know I do, but I also like my job,” Kerry said. “Laz was real clear; if he finds out I’m doing anything other than riding with you, then I’m out of a job.”

  “So we’ll just ride,” Chaff said.

  Kerry knew better, but this wasn’t the time or place to argue semantics. “Sorry, man. I’ve got plans.”

  Chaff didn’t speak for several beats. Finally, he said, “I see.” He turned and sauntered toward the counter. Idly he picked up an exhaust that lay there, studying it. “Maybe you just want out.”

  Kerry’s breath caught and held. This was it. “What if I do?”

  Chaff set the pipe down and turned to Kerry. “Once a Striker, always a Striker, Merc. If you do want out, there’s a price.”

  Kerry didn’t ask, and apparently Chaff wasn’t going to elaborate, because he stepped under the roll-up door. “Catch you on the flip side.”

  Kerry stood stock-still until he heard Chaff’s bike fire up. Until the sound of his bike faded. He huffed out his breath. Then he tossed the wrench, letting fly a few choice words as well.

  He glanced again at Laz’s office; had he seen movement there? He froze. How would he explain Chaff’s presence if Laz was there?

  Several moments went by, but the only sound was the sporadic traffic on Hazelton Avenue. The breeze pushed into the bay, leaves rustling in with it.

  He’d never felt more alone.

  And he’d just told the gang he wanted out.

  8

  Kerry pulled his motorcycle up to the curb outside Lucy’s house for Date #2. He really shouldn’t be here, he thought. Shouldn’t want her like he did. Nothing good could come of it… of them.

  Maybe he should leave now.

  Before he could talk himself into doing just that, she stepped out her front door—and he did a classic double-take.

  She was wearing leather chaps.

  His eyes were riveted to her hips as she walked toward him.

  As she got closer, he dragged his eyes from her hips to the leather jacket draped over her arm.

  “You, ah…” He couldn’t find words.

  “I’m not a total pansy?”

  He stared at her smiling face.

  “It’s nice to see the biker boy speechless,” she teased.

  “I’m not speechless, I’m—” He stopped himself before he said the rest: Turned on. “You look great. Amazing.”

  Her eyes were dancing. There was no other way to describe it. She was so beautiful, she practically sparkled with life and amusement. “Thank you. I was hoping you’d like them.” She slid her arms into the jacket sleeves in a smooth motion that emphasized her breasts and made Kerry want to pant.

  He didn’t pant over women. What was it about this woman?!

  She rapped her knuckles lightly on his helmet. “Glad to see you’re protecting that hard head of yours.”

  She placed her hand on his arm and helped herself into the seat, further surprising him. “You weren’t checking out my ass, were you?” she teased.

  “Me?” he said as innocently as he could. “Oh, no.”

  “You know, for a bad-boy biker, you’re not so bad.” Her voice was husky, right in his ear, and he shivered involuntarily.

  He didn’t know what to say in response, so he pressed the starter to bring the Harley back to life. “Ready?”

  She finished tightening the helmet strap and clasped him around his waist. “Ready!”

  Kerry didn’t know how she did it, but Lucy had a way of getting him to talk. It didn’t seem to matter what the topic was; he just wanted to hear her laugh and see her eyes sparkle at whatever he said.

  They’d seen everything the little art fair had to offer, but Kerry wasn’t ready to end the date, so they were back on the motorcycle.

  He liked how her arms felt around him when t
hey rode—which may have had something to do with how long and far they rode. The sun was setting as he pulled into a scenic overview by the Truckee River.

  They left their helmets on the motorcycle and meandered along the river hand in hand. Lucy sat down in a patch of sand and watched as he skipped rocks.

  Or tried to, anyway. He wasn’t very good at it, but he didn’t care as long as Lucy kept teasing him like she did.

  Eventually he couldn’t see the rocks well enough, and he dropped to the sand next to Lucy. “I give up.”

  They sat companionably for a while, and then Lucy said, “I owe you a big thank you.”

  “For what?” She wore her hair in a braid today, and he was mesmerized by escaped strands stirring in the breeze.

  “Getting me to ride.” Her face was transformed by a slow smile. “I never would have thought so, but… I actually like it.”

  “It doesn’t scare you anymore?” he said.

  Her hand curled around the lapel of his jacket. “I feel safe with you.” Her blue eyes pinned him in place, and the next thing he knew, he had tugged her to his chest. Her face was inches away, and he could taste the sweetness of her breath on the air.

  She gasped when he took her mouth, and he took advantage by slipping his tongue past her lips. He felt her hand against his hip, and he took that as permission to wrap his hand around her waist, tipping her slowly toward the sand.

  Her lips were soft and full beneath his, and he eased up enough so he could taste them. He tried to kiss her softly, but her tongue tangled with his and her mouth pushed harder against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down with her, until her back was flush against the sand.

  He placed one hand in the sand to hold himself steady, but even so, he fell farther into her.

  Her fingers dug into his lower back and her teeth grazed his bottom lip. He used his free hand to tug her hair and tilt her head back just enough so that he could deepen the kiss.

  God, he loved kissing her!

  She shifted underneath him, and he knew he’d have to stop or risk embarrassing himself. It took a supreme effort, but he pulled away. He lay down beside her, adjusting his lower parts to get more comfortable.

  He felt her hand graze his, and he wrapped his paw around it.

  She pointed at the sky. “Look,” she said. “Northern lights!”

  It was too early for that, but he gazed up anyway. “I’ll be damned,” he murmured. “It really is.”

  He felt her shiver next to him. “You’re cold,” he said.

  She turned toward him. “A little.”

  “Come on.” He stood and offered her his hand. “I’ll take you home.”

  Kerry stood in Lucy’s living room. Now that he was here—and Lucy was sending every signal that he would get lucky tonight—he couldn’t do it. She was so soft, so naïve, so clean… he didn’t want to taint her. For that’s surely what would happen if they took this any further. If he even so much as touched her he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  She peered up at him. “Something heavy is going on in that hard head of yours.”

  He rubbed his jaw. “I really like you, Lucy.”

  “I like you too.” She smiled. “Just a little bit.” She started to put her arms around his neck, but he ducked.

  “What is it?” she said.

  “You and I… we’re so different.”

  “That’s what makes it interesting, don’t you think?” she said.

  She didn’t understand. She wasn’t going to understand.

  “What I’m saying is…” He took a deep breath. “I don’t think you-and-I would work. I think we should quit now before anybody gets hurt.”

  He could tell by the way her face fell that it was too late; he was going to hurt her anyway.

  “Are you still doing stuff with the biker club?” she asked.

  That wasn’t what he’d expected her to say next. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “So you are,” she said.

  “It’s not that simple, Lucy. You don’t just drop out of a motorcycle gang. You don’t understand my world.”

  She chewed on her lower lip. “More like I’m not welcome in it,” she muttered.

  He threw his hands out helplessly. “I can’t be someone other than who I am.”

  “I’m not asking you to!” she said. “I’m just asking you to expand your world a bit. Include me in it.”

  This was all moving too fast. He wasn’t boyfriend material. Didn’t she realize that?

  He backed up until he felt the door knob in his hand. “I didn’t mean to lead you on, or hurt you—”

  “Oh, just go!” She sounded confused and exasperated. The sheen in her eyes told him she was getting ready for a good cry—and he didn’t want to be anywhere in the vicinity when that happened.

  He opened the door. “I’m sorry.”

  “Go!”

  9

  Everything was going smoothly; Kerry had found his connection and traded the drugs for the money, tucking the envelope securely in his inside vest pocket. Now all he had to do was get the hell out of this backwater bar, find Chaff and the others, and he’d repaid the Strikers.

  He was free. He wasn’t even sure exactly what that meant yet, but it felt right. And hopefully Lucy would take him back…

  Lucy. Could he be a proper boyfriend to her?

  A man stepped in front of him, and Kerry nearly bumped into him. “Sorry, man,” he mumbled. He sidestepped, but the man stayed with him, clearly blocking his way on purpose. What the fuck?

  He looked at the man. He was burly with too much facial hair and a pierced ear.

  Burly Man pointed his cue stick at the patch on Kerry’s chest. “Looks like we got a lucky Striker.”

  His three companions chuckled. Kerry said nothing.

  “What, you don’t think I’m funny, Striker?” the man continued.

  Still Kerry didn’t respond. What club were these guys from, anyway? Was he on their turf?

  “Where you goin’ in such a hurry?” The four men pressed closer, but Kerry held his ground. If one of them threw a punch, it would be pretty lopsided, but it wouldn’t be the first bar fight he’d ever been in.

  The man tapped the cue stick on Kerry’s chest. “I think you got something that belongs to us.”

  Kerry reacted instinctively; his arm swung across his chest, knocking the cue stick out of the guy’s hands. Did this asshole know what was in his pocket, or was this a random jerk-off?

  The man’s face flushed with anticipation and excitement; he was spoiling for a fight. “Let’s take this outside,” he growled.

  Kerry glanced past him to the bar and did a double-take.

  Laz?

  Sure enough. Laz was sitting on a bar stool, a beer in front of him and his eyes fastened on Kerry. What did that mean?

  He turned his attention back to Burly Man. “Fuck you,” he said, and then tried to push his way past the man.

  Burly Man pushed back, and Kerry gave a bigger shove. Burly Man’s fist snapped back; Kerry ducked.

  And all hell broke loose.

  Fists were flying. Not just his four companions, either; other patrons were getting in on the action.

  Kerry found himself on the floor on his hands and knees, Burly Man finally having landed a punch. Stars danced on the outer edges of his vision. He swung blindly for Burly Man’s legs and missed. But he heard Burly Man grunt as someone landed a punch on him.

  “The fuzz!” someone shouted.

  Chaos ensued as the crowd headed for the exits en masse.

  Kerry felt hands under his armpits, helping him up. He squinted. “Laz? What are you doing here?”

  “Hell if I know,” Laz said. “I just had a feeling you needed some backup.”

  Kerry grunted as Laz was joined by… “Chaff?”

  “Come on, man, we gotta get outta here.” He and Laz hustled Kerry toward the rear exit.

  Cool air hit Kerry in the face, helping to
clear his head.

  “This is where we part ways, my friend.” Chaff held out his hand, and Kerry reached into his pocket and pulled out the envelope. Chaff took it without even glancing at it. “You’re okay in my book, Merc. I’ll square it with the guys.” He held out his hand. “Maybe we’ll cross paths again someday.”

  Kerry took his hand, complicated emotions rolling through him. This man had been his closest friend at one time… “Yeah. Maybe.”

  Sirens. Closer now.

  “Gotta blow!” Chaff disappeared into the crowd.

  Laz dragged Kerry toward the motorcycles. “Give me your keys,” he said.

  Kerry dug in his pocket and handed over his motorcycle key. Laz handed him a different set of keys. “Take my truck. It’s three blocks that way.” Laz pointed down the street, then looked a little closer at Kerry. “You can drive that, can’t you?”

  Kerry nodded.

  “Meet you back at the shop. Okay?”

  Kerry nodded again as Laz threw a leg over the motorcycle and fired it up.

  The bay door was open when Kerry pulled up to the shop. He saw his motorcycle parked in one of the stalls. As he stepped out of the truck, Laz materialized at his side. “I’ll run you home,” he said. “You can get the bike tomorrow.”

  Kerry didn’t argue.

  Once Kerry was settled in the passenger seat, Laz handed him an ice pack. “Hate to break it to you, but you’re gonna have a shiner.”

  Kerry snorted and pressed the ice pack to his temple. “At the least.”

  Laz pulled out and they rode in silence for several minutes. Finally, Kerry spoke. “I don’t get it. Why’d you do that tonight?”

  “I wasn’t born yesterday, you know. I’ve been around the block a time or two.” Laz gave him a sideways glance. “It’s like I said… you remind me of myself sometimes.”

  Laz had been in a motorcycle gang? Interesting.

  “I knew you couldn’t just walk away from the gang,” Laz said. “I was just hoping you’d find a way. And you did.”

 

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