by Lexy Timms
“Some biker, eh? I’m not so sure about the sweeping me off my feet thing. But you sure have “come along.” She untangled his arms from around her and pushed off the bed. “I tell you what. We’ll go to dinner as long as it’s not too fancy.”
“Now wait. If you think I can’t afford—”
“That’s not it. Look, I just told you I’m practically engaged to someone. A dinner at an expensive restaurant sends the wrong message. But if I meet up with a friend for pizza, it’s not a big deal.”
“I see,” said Saks. He didn’t like this, or her reasoning. This sounded too much like the women who dated him for his bad-boy image. But, he admitted to himself, there was something about this woman that intrigued him. He wasn’t going to blow things by making a big deal over a simple request.
“Well, it so happens I know the best pizza place in town.”
“You do? And you expect me to come to Westfield for the second time in as many days?”
“Anywhere you like then,” he said.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll text you an address. Where’s your phone?”
Saks got up to search for his jeans, which he found on the floor in the living room. When he returned, he found that Chrissy had dressed and was slipping on those spiked heels that grabbed his interest last night.
He studied her in the light streaming in from slats of the shades hanging in his bedroom window. Saks had never found a woman putting on her clothes fascinating, yet every movement of her body drew his eye to her and held it there.
“Have you seen my purse?”
“I believe you left it in the car,” he said.
She swore under her breath. “My keys?”
Saks went to his jeans and pulled the keys out of his pocket.
“Do you need a ride back to your bike?”
“No, I have my cage here.”
Chrissy arched an eyebrow. “Cage?”
“What we bikers call our cars.”
“Oh. And you aren’t worried about leaving your bike at that bar?” She spoke the last words with disdain, and Saks sighed.
“No. It’s fine there. Really, we aren’t all the dangerous criminals the media makes us out to be.” Saks kicked himself for trying to defend his club and lifestyle to this woman he barely knew. He never apologized about how he lived his life, not even to his family.
Chrissy screwed up her face as if she caught herself doing something she shouldn’t have. “Sorry. I suppose I’m the last person who should make judgments. Is your phone unlocked?”
Saks entered the password for his phone and handed it to Chrissy.
She punched at the screen with one perfectly manicured red fingernail and gave it back to him. “There’s my number. Text me later and I’ll send you the address. Is 7:00 good?”
“That should do,” admitted Saks, “as long as you don’t send me to the furthest corners of Connecticut.”
“Don’t worry. Someplace off 91 or 95. I’ll let you know.”
“Mysterious,” he said with a smile.
“Perhaps,” she replied with a cute smirk. “We’ll see how good you are at following breadcrumbs.”
Saks reached out and pulled her to him. “Oh, are we into fairytales now?” he whispered into her ear. “Because there are a few fantasies I’d love to explore with you.”
She shivered in his arms and leaned into him. “You’ve got to get to work and I need to get going. Let’s continue this conversation later.”
“Okay, but don’t be surprised if I text you during the day.”
“I’d be surprised if you didn’t,” she said with that sexy smirk. It was driving Saks crazy. All he could think about was kissing those beautiful lips.
Her hot mouth pressed against him, sparking memories of last night. Saks wanted more of her. As her tongue met his, he felt his knees melt under him.
He finally pulled away. “Keep that up and I won’t let you leave.”
She chuckled. “Then that gives you something to contemplate during the day.” She gave him a sweet peck on the cheek before peeling herself out of his arms. “Later, lover.”
With being half-aroused and not dressed, only his eyes could follow her to the door. He heard the door close behind her and he dropped onto the bed.
Damn.
He sat there in a sexual haze while his cock stubbornly refused to acknowledge that its object of interest had left the building. Saks hissed to himself and made his way to the shower. As the hot water beat on him, sexy images of the previous night kept him hard, and just to get the morning moving forward he took matters into his own hand.
Everything she did and said stimulated his imagination. While his hands played with his stiff rod, he imaged eating her out and then sinking inside her. Lord, she was tight and wet, and when he realized that she truly wanted as much as he could give her, he did. And when she broke apart in his arms, screaming his name, he came as if the world had exploded and he stood at ground zero.
That remembrance sparked his orgasm now, and his cum splashed against the shower walls in long spurts. Breathing hard he put his forearms against the wall, leaning his head against them. What was it about this woman that captured his attention? She was a touch snobby, which wasn’t attractive, but she also was sharp, witty, and didn’t hold back. And she was absolutely fucking gorgeous, every inch of her.
He didn’t deny that he found the swell of her breasts, with their little pink nipples absolutely charming. Or that he was equally fond of her hips that flared in womanly curves to frame delightfully round ass cheeks.
Saks licked his lips again to capture the fading taste of her kiss. Yeah. This was a woman worth pursuing, and if he had to play things less cool than he did with other women, then he’d have to do that.
Reluctantly, he climbed out of the shower and turned it off. It was time to get back to real life.
His phone buzzed with a text so, with his towel wrapped around his waist, he reached for his phone on the bed. For a second he had the insane hope that she’d sent him a text. But he was supposed to send the first one. She didn’t take his number.
“If you think you’re getting away from me that fast, you’re in for it,” he thought.
But he looked at the text anyway and found with disappointment that it was from his Uncle Vits.
“Damn,” he muttered. “What does he want now?”
“Call me,” the text said. This made sense. Uncle Vits hated texts. But Saks had no desire to speak to him. With a shock, Saks realized that after meeting Chrissy, there was no way in hell he was going to meet the Serafina woman.
There was no point. It was possible nothing could work out with Chrissy. Maybe she’ll end up marrying the asshole her family wants her to. But there was no way any other woman was going to hold a candle to Chrissy, and he couldn’t put himself or any other woman through that. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT TOOK CHRISSY A FEW minutes to get her bearings. But there were signs posted on the main thoroughfares that pointed to the highway. Soon she was heading home on 91 South.
She drove without thinking, her mind on Saks and the night they’d spent together. Never had she met a man so intent on pleasing her—which surprised her. She’d expected the leather-wearing, motorcycle-riding Saks would be more of a honey-hang-on-for-the-ride, type of guy. She couldn’t have been more wrong. At every turn he watched her reactions, gave her as much or a little as she needed, and reveled in her pleasure. He didn’t just give her orgasms, but lavished care on her that she didn’t expect.
Delicious.
That’s why she had to leave. She wanted to stay. But he was the wrong type of man, wrong social class, wrong ethnic extraction, wrong everything.
Then why couldn’t she stop thinking about him?
Even as she drove down the highway, little involuntary jolts of pleasure would shimmer through her body when pictures of him flashed in her mind. Images of Saks sucking her nipples, torturing her with
his tongue, sparking divine pleasure through her core with his mouth, hands, and marvelous cock spontaneously sent shocking shivers through her.
Had anyone done that to her before? Heck no. During high school, most boys were too afraid of her family to approach her, except for Riley Warner. But he moved to Ohio soon after their first furtive groping. Then in college, she was more interested in grades than boys. One reason being she wanted every scholarship dollar she could get. Her parents weren’t happy that she decided to go to college out of state, and pointedly denied her financial support. It was all work and no play for her back then. Back then? She scoffed. Right after graduation she landed her first job, and worked her ass off so she could land her second, better, position, the one she had now.
But did this focus on her career leave her unprepared and defenseless against the first pretty boy who crossed her path? Okay. She couldn’t classify Saks as that. He was more like danger man with a capital D on his forehead.
And he wanted to keep seeing her. That much she figured out. No ‘one and done’ for Mr. Anthony Parks. Considering how badly he fit into her life and her goals, it wasn’t a very good idea for her to see him again. Her father and grandfather would both have fits. Grandpa might even send a couple of the guys after him to adjust his attitude. That wouldn’t work out well at all.
When he texted, she would just ignore him.
As she pulled in to the parking lot of her apartment building she saw her sister’s red Mustang, her high school graduation gift. Chrissy had received a similarly expensive car, but sold it for college money. She bought a two-thousand-dollar beater to save cash. But spotting the sports car in their parking lot, she suddenly remembered that Gloria had ditched her last night, leaving Chrissy prey to Saks’ attentions. Had her sister shown up, she wouldn’t be in this predicament.
She blazed up the stairs that led to their second-floor apartment and threw open the door.
“Whoa!” said Gloria. “Who lit the fire under you? Or are you coming in guns drawn to hide your walk of shame?”
“Shame? Why did you ditch me last night?”
“Marcus had a couple hours free, so...”
“You dumped me for your boyfriend? And left me alone in that bar?” Now Chrissy had a real reason to feel indignation.
Gloria cast her eyes downward and then up again, with mischief in her eye. “Did you find him there?”
“How was I supposed to do that? You were supposed to get the intel on his identity.”
“Sorry; like I said...”
“Marcus wanted to screw you.”
“Hey!” protested Gloria, then grinned. “But, well—it’s Marcus.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard it all before. You can’t help yourself.”
“And what about you? You come home in the morning wearing last night’s clothes. Who was he? I bet he sizzled sex to get you to drop your panties!”
“Nobody you need to know anything about.”
“Aha! You did meet someone. But—”
“No buts. Papa or Grandpa find out about him and he’ll be toast.”
“Ooooh,” cooed Gloria, eyes wide. “He must be real inappropriate.”
“You’re the one being inappropriate.”
“Did you find him at the Red Bull?”
“That’s where you sent me, remember?”
But Gloria's mission was taunting her big sister, not self-recrimination. “What’d he look like?”
Chrissy huffed. “Tall, dark, and handsome. There. Does that satisfy you?”
Gloria stuck her tongue out at Chrissy, but clapped her hands. “Is he a biker?”
“It’s a biker bar, isn’t it?”
“Does he ride a Harley?”
“I don’t know. We didn’t ride his bike.”
Gloria’s face fell.
“To his apartment,” added Chrissy with a smirk.
“His crib!” Gloria went ballistic now, practically bouncing on her toes. “What was it like?”
“It was too dark to see. He, uh, wasn’t interested in showing me around. We just...” She grinned again. “We just went straight to his bed.”
Gloria’s eyes were as wide as saucers, which Chrissy found utterly ridiculous because she probably did more than that, and worse, with Marcus last night. “Was he big?”
“Stop.”
“He must have been huge. With meaty, hairy arms with tattoos all over. Was his head shaved?”
Chrissy started laughing now. “You’re ridiculous. That’s not my type at all.”
“You have a type of biker? I thought you got wet for boring men like your boss.”
“Shut up. It wasn't that way at all.” She was laughing despite herself. The image Gloria had of a biker was probably the same image she’d have said yesterday.
“How was it then?”
“Well, Saks—that’s his name—he saved me from nasty bikers in the parking lot. You should’ve seen it. There were five of them but he held them off.”
“Like, in actual fighting?” Gloria was mesmerized as Chrissy spoke.
“No. In attitude. He handed me his jacket and said, ‘Hold this, darlin’. I don’t want to get this idiot’s blood on my cut.’ And the other guy said, ‘Who says it’ll be my blood?’ Then Saks shrugged and said, ‘My blood, your blood. Doesn’t matter. I’m just keeping you here until the police arrive.’ And then the rude bikers rode off.
“You’re pulling my leg!” said Gloria.
“Actually, I’m not. I was heading to my car, ticked you had stood me up, when these rough biker dudes came creeping up on me. Saks stepped in and made sure I was okay.”
“Awww, he stood up for you.”
“I suppose,” said Chrissy. In telling the story, Chrissy realized how amazing Saks had acted. Five bikers, and all he did was stare them down and they fled. She shivered again at the thought. All her life she’d lived around macho, alpha males, but Saks commanded the scene without fuss or bother. It was hard not to find him attractive.
“Will you see him again?”
“No. That would just complicate things.”
“Don’t tell me you’re going through with this marriage?”
For Pete’s sake! Gloria was the one who wanted her to meet the guy and date him in the first place so she could be with dick-head Marcus. “No. I’m not. But I don’t want to put Saks in the middle of family business either.”
“Saks. That’s a strange name.”
“It’s his club name.”
“He belongs to a biker club? Which one?”
“Shades something or other. I don’t remember.”
“Hades’ Spawn?” Gloria’s eyes got wide again.
“Yeah, that sounds right. How do you know about them?”
“Everyone does. Are you blind and deaf? They were in all the papers a couple years back. One of their members was shot dead in front of his home by the Hombres. There was some argument over a drug deal with the bikers. And somehow the Rojos biker gang got involved and kidnapped one of the Hades’ Spawn. In the end the President, Vice President, and Sergeant-At-Arms of the Spawn went to jail for drug dealing.”
“The club deals drugs?” Chrissy was appalled. She had no interest in getting involved with a drug dealer. Though she might turn a blind eye to her own family’s business interests, she didn’t want that directly in her life.
Gloria shook her head. “No. Everyone else was cleared. But it was a real mess.”
“All the more reason to keep away from him. Jeez, Gloria, Grandpa really would have a fit if I spent time with a man like that.”
“Sure, but it’s okay to hang out with boys from the crew,” she said sarcastically.
“You do,” Chrissy said pointedly.
“Yes. I do. I’ve explained that to you. I love Marcus. And I’m going to marry him one day.”
Chrissy dropped to their leather couch and sighed. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”
Gloria sat on the loveseat kitty-corner to the couch. “About what
? The biker or Grandpa?”
Chrissy picked up the couch pillow and buried her face in it. “I'm so fucked,” she said, muffling the words in the pillow.
The problem was, despite her resolve, she did want to see Saks again. Or, rather, she wanted to get lost in his passionate kisses and let him do whatever he wanted with her body. She sat up straight and pulled her phone from her purse to see if he’d sent a text yet. As she held the phone, it rang, but to her disappointment it wasn’t Saks. It was her assistant, Jessica. “Hello? Jess?”
“Oh, Chrissy,” Jessica said, in a voice near a whisper. “I think you’d better get here quick.”
“What? Why?”
“Because that jerk, Hamilton, has been parading a string of people here through his office. And it took a triple-shot mocha latte and a dozen donuts to that snake, Chloe, to find out why. He’s interviewing people for your job.”
Alarm shot through Chrissy. “He’s what? There has to be a mistake. Chloe’s just trying to gaslight you.”
That would exactly be Chloe’s style. Still, Richard did act cold on Saturday despite the extra day she put in at his request, and it was unusual for him to give her the day off.
“I don’t know, Chrissy. Chloe showed me the list of people he has appointments with. I Googled a few of them, the names I could remember anyway, and they’re all in communications.”
“Dammit!” Chrissy rubbed her forehead. “What am I supposed to do? He gave me the day off. I’ll look desperate if I show up now.”
“Or like you’re a go-getter.”
“You might be right. Get together a list of the headhunters who have called me over the past year and email it to me. And start assembling a presentation book for me with our campaigns; say, the top ten or so.”
“You sure about this?”
“Yes. One thing I know is that you don’t stay where you aren’t wanted.”
“Okay, Chrissy,” Jessica said. “Only, take me with you if you can. You’re the only one who makes working here tolerable.”
“I’ll do what I can, Jess.”
“I’ve got to go. Chloe’s on her way over and she’s got that evil look in her eye.”
