The Outlaw Biker's Betrayal: A Bad Boy MC Romance

by Sienna Wiliiams

  He stood waiting to the side of the table with his hands folded where he could see the entrance. He was holding a single white rose. He was anxious. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he was going to be realistic. This wasn't the one; he was just trying to find her. It was like digging for truffles. You can do it a long time before you actually find one, but if you don't look it'll never happen.

  The blond from the service walked in wearing a professional black and white pantsuit with a black folder in her hands. She smiled over at Johnny and stood at the side. When she walked in, Johnny hardly recognized her. She was wearing a white evening gown and had her black hair folded up above her head with rhinestones covering the back. The light fell on her perfectly, accenting her best features, her rounded face, and her stately figure. He was enchanted, but he was careful.

  He smiled and walked over. “Hello.”

  “Hi,” she was nervous. He could ease her in once he figured out her style.

  “This is for you.” He handed her the rose and she took it, and held it in her hand. “I'm Johnny. They didn't tell me your name.”

  “I'm Marlow.”

  “Well, Marlow, I feel kinda privileged to be able to come out here to be on a date with you.” She blushed.

  “You're not too bad.” Her voice had the forcefulness of a woman who spoke her mind with the elegance of a woman who knew how to act.

  He went to pull out her chair and she went to the other side and sat down. “Oh, uh...” He laughed.

  “Oh, I'm sorry. Were you trying to pull out my chair for me?” She let her forehead fall into her palm, clearly embarrassed.

  He laughed. “I'm probably the least formal person you've ever met. It don't both me none.” He took his napkin and winked at her as he folded it into his collar like a bib.

  “Oh, god.” She laughed. “That's pretty good. It is a bit formal isn't it?”

  “It is. She had me pick the place, and mentioned another less formal thing, but I liked the idea of walking around in the garden after dinner. Was that a bad idea?”

  “Oh, no. In fact, I was wanting to walk out there.” The waiter came out with menus and they ordered. He got water and she got soda. Neither of them wanted to drink. She ordered a steak, and he ordered the same.

  “It's nice to see a woman that doesn't just peck at a salad.”

  “Way I see it, a salad is nice, but it's not a meal. I want people.” He liked that expression people food.

  When the food came, they both reached for the salt shaker and he felt her hand touching his, sending out a burst of static. They both noticed, and their eyes met. She quickly drew back her hand blushing, but he was intrigued. The chemistry was a little bit of a surprise. He didn't have much faith in this process, and he wanted it to go further.

  They ate their food silently in a reverent state having been caught off guard by the newly discovered mindset they both displayed. Johnny popped a piece of steak in his mouth and watched the way a strand of hair fell over in front of her eye while she waited. Her dress was new, something they must have bought for her at the marriage service. The Head Mistress was full of tricks, but this was thinly veiled. He could tell that she wasn't at home in places like this. He wasn't either, and had long avoided the billionaire lifestyle.

  “Where do you live,” Marlow asked, tired of the silence.

  “In a Phoenix suburb called Paradise Valley.”

  “I've never been there. Is it nice?”

  “It's alright. It's a lot hotter there, but it doesn't snow in the winter.”

  “Have you lived in Texas all your life?” He took a sip of water and watched as she went to finish her bite.

  “No. I'm from Denver.” She took a sip and waited for him to ask something else. He sensed something there, so he dug softly.

  “What brought you here?” She stayed silent, and he let that one go. She faced something terrible.

  “You know,” she finished her food and set down her fork. “I don't think this is too bad.”

  “I agree.”

  “In fact, maybe there's a chance.” She squinted her eyes and looked at him playfully. “I mean it's slim, of course.”

  “Hey, now. I heard the Head Mistress makes the guy choose.”

  “Oh,” she laughed. “I doubt that very much.” He reached out and took her hand.

  “If I had a choice, I would get to know you better.”

  “I might let you come around.” She stroked the back of his palm, sending sparks over his hand. She saw him shiver, and met his eyes. She reached out and ran her finger along his rough chin, an innocent gesture that spoke of intrigue. He had sway with this woman, and he wasn't sure what to think of that. He would be gentle.

  “Shall we take a walk?”

  “Yes,” she let him help her up, a particularly informal gesture that he found quite endearing, then he handed her jacket, and her wrap, and they walked through the French doors into the clear night.

  “The snow must've melted.”

  “Yes.” She looked up to see the waxing moon hanging in the sky, with its horns pointing towards the city.

  “When the moon is waxing, traditionally in European culture, that means something is beginning. What it is, of course, is the mystery.” He led her over a moss covered path lined with soft blue and yellow roses, and into a trellis lined tunnel of pink roses that hung off the wood like little fruit.

  She took him closer, and looked up at him inhaling sharply. “It's been so long. I forget how to do all this.”

  “When I first saw you, Marlow, I picked you because we share something. I see your shoulders hunched and your downcast eyes. I noticed the dark circles covered by concealer.” She was shivering and he pulled her in, letting her head rest easily on her shoulders. It felt natural.

  “No more. It's just too hard.”

  “I understand,” and they both knew that he did.

  They stood there shelter in each other’s arms, a place that felt so inviting; then, he led her over the path to an old white gazebo that had long been taken over by the honeysuckle, with its rich white blossoms sending off their gentle fragrance. They sat in the bench and looked out into the forest.

  He put his arm around her shoulders, trying to ease out of the somber mood, and into a more romantic one. “I wish you could see my world, Marlow.”

  “Can't be much different.” He stayed silent.

  “It's different. It's warm, not cold, and it's free. I'm not tied down.”

  “Huh.” She seemed puzzled. “I know about the agency. I didn't choose it because of who comes. I know you're not supposed to say anything, but if your wealth brings happiness, and I know it does, it would be nice. But I don't care. I just don't want to spend Christmas alone.”

  “I know. Dear god, I know. What would be the perfect Christmas for you?”

  “A boy running down the stairs, screaming how much he wants his presents. I feel like I'm missing out on half my life.” He looked over to see tears running down her face.

  “When one door closes, Marlow,” he could feel her sobbing, “another door opens. I've wanted kids a long time too.”

  “How can I put hope in something new?” She looked up and he carefully placed a finger on her chin, reaching down so that their lips touched softly. Her mouth opened just a bit, and he let his tongue slide in gently, bring it back. She was silk, and he was fire, setting her ablaze, teasing her sentiments and they had hope. Their world shook with passion, a force that slammed into her with his breath running over her face, steaming with the smell of peppermint.

  When he pulled back, she was shuddering. “That's why.”

  “It's been a long time.”

  “I've never felt that before. Does it last?”

  “It changes. You see a person, watch them closely and just bask in the sweet way they move. Fire fades, but there's tenderness and innocence then loyalty. You've really never felt that?”

  “No. I thought I did.”

  “You're probably a b
ombshell chaser—the kind of guy that goes for the good looking girls, and mistakes lust for love. It's common.”

  “When I came there, to see that old woman, she pulled out a line of models and asked if I found them attractive. I told her I wanted a real woman.”

  “They were models. She knew.” They both laughed. “There's just something about that woman. I'll bet you she knew how things would work out.”

  “I think she did.” Johnny bent down and nipped at the nape of her neck, like an electric flame thrower, and though he meant to be playful, he felt something else happen.

  “Does she have any other rules,” Marlow asked.

  “Who cares? We could easily just leave now and get rid of her.”

  “Maybe, but I want that second date. In fact,” she reached down and ran her finger along his shaft, “I think we will wait for that second date.”

  “Oh,” he chuckled. “You're gonna get it. You know that right?” He looked over to see her pushing her tongue against the inside of her cheek.

  Chapter 13

  That night, after the agency dropped her off, Marlow almost drove down to the drugstore to buy a binder just so she could carve their initials into the cardboard like a 16 year old girl. It was real. She was tingling from head to toe, and glistening in between her thighs. It wasn't just the feeling of having met somebody, it was the renewed vitality that it gave her. She was starting over, and though she missed Frank, she could almost feel his blessing.

  She saw it in Johnny, the way he hunched over, but he started loosening up too. She didn't have to tell him about Frank, and that was such a relief. She didn't want to have to have that talk. It worked out perfectly. It could just be a mutual understanding—a silent secret, which would help her get over the pain.

  What really stuck in her mind was Johnny. She had always been the girl who had crushes on guys like that, even though she knew she never really had a chance with them. She had always been the one to get the geeks, not cowboys built like bulls with asses like Greek Gods. Dear Lord, that man could ride her anytime he wanted.

  Was it real? She had no idea, and that was the one thing that could tear her apart. It had to be real. A man like that—he was her chance. She loved the way he had that five o'clock shadow, rough and tantalizing with a touch of a Texas drawl. Just the way he looked at her, like a child with tender eyes. She needed it to be real. It had gotten too deep, and she couldn't go back. She tried to hold herself off, but he was sinking down into that place in her heart.

  He talked about what it would be like to be with him, how he wanted to share that decadent lifestyle with her, and that was a sign. She couldn't hold onto it—she wouldn't, but she could hope for some possibility and cling to that hope, because like it or not, this was her last chance.

  She fell asleep that night dreaming of Johnny by her side, sheltering her from the pain that had overcome her. The next morning, she was anxious. Their second date wasn't until that evening, but she had to go to the agency to speak with them about what had happened. The Head Mistress said they would be keeping a close eye on the relationship, and how things were developing, so she put on a nice pair of jeans and a black t-shirt and got in the car to drive there.

  They had her car dropped off the night before, and they would be dropping it off again after their second date. They wanted to drive her to take her shopping and to meet Johnny. She didn't know why, but they seemed to frown upon activity outside the confines of the agency. She also knew that neither person was being allowed to use their own resources during the process. The Head Mistress told her that it was because they didn't want income to get in the way, but she knew that it was also because they didn't want him to show off, or for her class status to effect the dating process.

  The agency was empty mostly, so when she came up to speak with the receptionist, the Head Mistress came out right away, wearing her same black a-line dress. This time, though, she had an emerald butterfly in her hair. Just that little bit of color added an eerily cheery effect to her mostly somber composure.

  The old lady took Marlow back to her office, and lit a cigarette. “What was your first impression of him. Think back.” She went right to the point, and watched Marlow's reaction carefully with a pad in her hand.

  Marlow remembered walking in the first time. “Rough but tender.” The Head Mistress smiled, just enough for Marlow to notice as she began scribbling on her pad.

  “What did you think he thought of you at first?”

  “My only impression was that he seemed at ease.”

  “Was he shy?”

  “No. We broke the ice.”

  “How?” The woman took a puff of smoke and blew it up to the ceiling.

  “Well, he went to pull my chair out and I thought he was sitting down so I sat in the other chair. It was funny for both of us, and after that it was just easy.”

  “Were you embarrassed?”

  “No. Not really.”

  “How did dinner go?”

  “Oh, so well. The food was amazing. We both ended up ordering the same thing. You know, we both felt chemistry right away when our hands grazed when we both touched the salt shaker. We held hands at the end, then we went for a walk in the garden.” Marlow stopped abruptly and the Head Mistress's head shot up, having noticed her discomfort.

  “What happened?”

  “He told me that he could tell there was something that happened to me, and I know that he saw that I'd lost somebody. We both noticed it in each other.” The woman's head nodded.

  “He saw it when he first saw you. I think it is why he chose you. He knew you two would relate to each other.”

  “It's what sent me here.”

  “It was your husband, no?”

  “Yes. It was. We stopped talking about it because it was painful then he held me, and we walked to the gazebo and held one another.”

  “How did that feel?” The Head Mistress was clearly intrigued by how things went.

  “He wants to keep this going, and that gave me hope.”

  “Was there any sexual discussions or touching?”

  “No. Well, we joked about leaving to go do it, and I teased him a bit by saying that we should then told him we'd do it tonight.”

  “I see.” She jotted something down and took a puff of her cigarette before pulling it out of the holder and putting it out. “We will analyze the data, and return to this shortly. Please, wait outside.”

  Chapter 14

  Andrea had been called into the Head Mistress's office as soon as the lady left. She wasn't sure what to expect from the woman. She had so many tricks, but from the look on the girl's face, it looked like the date had gone well, which she'd expected. They were a good match—informal, down-to-earth and they were both ready for love. That was the most important thing. Everyone wants to fall in love, and most people do at some point, but you have to be ready for it. You have to love yourself. You have to be confident in your ability to succeed without anyone else, and you need to want to really love somebody. If you're selfish or imbalanced, it won't help.

  The Head Mistress was staring straight at the door, as if she knew the girl was about to open it. “Yes?”

  “Instruct the man and woman that they are not to make any contact with one another after this.”

  “For how long? Is this a separation tactic?”

  “No. I think that they are a bad match.”

  “This is a bad idea. Why?”

  “Because the man is just recently broken up with his girlfriend, and they have a history of getting back together after separation.”

  “But you knew that when you took them on.”

  “I wanted to see how easily he falls for a woman. If it's too quick, he is not ready.” Andrea disagreed. He didn't have any of the other signs of low self confidence that caused those issues, and he certainly didn't have attachment issues.

  “It might be that they are just a good match.”

  “Get out of my office, and do as I told you.” The
woman ran up to shoo her out, leaving Andrea with a task she didn't really want to deal with. It didn't matter. She'd had to do things like this before, and she'd do it again. The woman was almost always right one way or another.

  * * * * *

  Marlow's entire body was jumping with excitement. In just a few hours, she would be back in his arms, sharing her deepest secrets with the man that could be the one. She had decided that things would go well. She felt so comfortable with him, and she couldn't imagine being without him. In fact, during the—almost exactly—16 hours that they'd been separated, she had been aching to see him.

  She still didn't know much about him, and she needed to, not because she had to know whether or not he was the right man, but because he'd intrigued. She could've sat for hours picking his brain. He looked like the kind of man who could handle hard work, and she knew that that must've been how he made his money. He had to be an extraordinary person to have been able to do that, and she wanted to learn how to be like him. She wanted to feel strong like he was, and learn what it must be like to live in his world.

  Marlow was a simple woman. To her, luxury was a BLT, or maybe a macadamia nut cookie. She didn't need a mansion or nice cars, but she wanted to know what it was like to be a person that had those things, and what it meant to be able to lounge back without having to wake up at 6 to go to work every day. There was nothing wrong with that, so long as she loved this man, and he was OK with her living the life she wanted to live. She had ambitions of her own, and she never give up on those. It wasn't like she was going to leech off of him.

  She began to make plans about what her life would be like. He said he wanted a family, and that was her greatest ambition. She could also travel. She'd always wanted to go to South America and see Asia. Those were things that people never really got to do, and she could see them all. The best part was that she could do them with him.

  Before she met him, her life was a pathetic blue of cheese puffs and cheap wine, filled with depression and menial work. She couldn't believe just how much this man was changing things for her in such a short time. This was the hope she was looking for.