by Jodi Linton
Stepping around him, she bent over and snatched the blood-dried leather cut off the floor and tossed it at her newest employee’s face. It just kicked his pretty-boy smile up a notch. With a shaky exhale, Em pulled herself together and made a damn point to stop staring at his panty-wetter tattooed arms. “Glad you were able to stop by, Cade. Now it’s time to prove your worth, so don’t show up late tomorrow. Logan’s known to give the new hires the lovely duty of scrubbing the garage bathroom if they aren’t on time.”
Cade slung on the cut, cigarette hanging from his bottom lip. “Thanks for the chance. I’ll see my way out.”
The office door slammed open, stalling their swift good-bye. She glanced past Cade, taking in the old-timer, Hammer, giving her a curious look.
“I’m almost done here, Hammer,” she said, nodding for him to wait outside. “Why don’t you wait for me in the garage?”
Hammer didn’t move a muscle. He looked at Cade, then continued talking as if the outlaw biker wasn’t even there. “The thing is, Prez, Logan got called out on a tow run, and you know with the screwup we had this morning some jobs got shuffled to the wayside.” The biker tugged at his jaw. “So what I’m saying is that rich prick’s bike isn’t finished.”
Well, shit. There was nothing like another fuckup to throw a wrench in the day’s plans. Planting her hands on her hips, she gnawed on her bottom lip and mentally kicked herself back into MC president mode as she ran through all the logical steps it would take to get the club’s latest bill-paying gig up and running. “The screwup. The boys get that one handled?”
Hammer nodded, not even giving the unknown biker a second look.
She let her gaze roam over to the reason why her normally sharp problem-solving skills were out of whack and took a deep breath when his dusty-brown hair fell haphazardly past an eyebrow. You need that bike done, Connors. Focus.
“Okay.” Em wiped her sweaty palms on her leather pants. “Pull the motorcycle around to the garage, and I’ll see what I can do.”
Hammer pinned her with a concerned look. “You know how to fix a Black Lightning?” the old-timer questioned, shifting against the doorjamb.
She ignored the remark, the way his lack of respect cut her deep, and instead of buckling to her emotions, she lifted her chin high and carried the president patch tall and proud. “Don’t ever fucking question me again, Hammer. Now get the damn bike into the garage.”
Wide shoulders stiffened as Cade crossed between her and Hammer. “You know what, my old man owned a Black Lightning when I was a boy.” The reason for all her trouble rolled his smoke to the corner of his hardened mouth. “Why don’t you show me the problem? At least give me a chance to prove myself. Show you my skills.”
Em puffed out a long breath. “Not like you can screw anything up more than it already is.”
What the ever-loving fuck had I been thinking, telling the boys I’d be fine alone with Cade?
How had she decided it was a good idea to hang out with the biker in her garage? A hot biker with a damaged vibe, who within two short hours of stepping onto club grounds had caused her to want to unwrap a few secrets like yesterday’s news. Hell, she’d given orders to have him punched in the face. That had to count for something when it came to standing her ground.
And yet his cocky attitude and compliments had been a huge turn-on as well. Probably more than she’d wanted to acknowledge. Then he’d gone and stepped up, pulling a gentleman move by helping her out of a bind. Cade was going to be a problem. She could feel it in her bones.
Em cleared her throat. “Are we anywhere closer to figuring out the problem? It’s been two hours, and I’m ready to call it a day. If need be, I can always open earlier tomorrow.”
“You always this pushy, babe?” he asked, the rawness in his deep voice bringing back images of their earlier almost kiss.
Her gaze lowered to his ripped arm holding the wrench. “Are you always an ass?”
Cade returned to tightening the lug nut on the front wheel of the motorcycle, and each time his muscles flexed Em felt her bitter resolve slowly chip away. “Only on my good days.” He paused. “Sinners got any bad blood with other clubs? Besides tinkering on old bikes, I’m good at pushing my muscle around.” He glanced over his shoulder at her and winked. “I can be that man to watch your back, that guy to bring you to your knees, or just a simple mechanic. You name it, Em, I’m that guy.”
She stared at the biker, feeling more confused by the minute about his abrupt arrival at the clubhouse and their almost friendly chitchat. Shaking off the wariness, she took a deep, fortified breath and continued to stare at his washboard abs. “If you count my new temporary mechanic, then yeah, the Sinners might have some bad blood on their hands.”
“Okay, I deserved that one.” Broad shoulders greased in oil pulled taut as he rolled onto his back. “So enlighten me on how you became the president of the Dirty Sinners. Not many women wear the president patch.”
Usually so many questions would unnerve her, but there was something about this guy’s casual approach and the fact that he cared to dig deeper than just accepting her hard exterior that made her want to talk.
Em tipped the water bottle to her lips, the cool liquid a welcome refreshment to her overheated body. “What if I told you this girl once dreamed about going to art school, but instead her old man decided it would be a better use of her skills to boss around a bunch of grease rats?”
He barked a laugh. “Damn. Get the hard-ass chick away from her minions and she’ll tell all kinds of secrets.”
She tightened her fingers around the plastic water bottle in her hands. The last place she wanted to be was with a man who made her feel vulnerable. Whatever. Not like she should give a fuck.
“Most of us don’t have much choice in life.” She narrowed her gaze on Cade. “Not everyone is so lucky to live the gypsy lifestyle.”
He shrugged. “I’d take a family any day over loneliness. You and your dad close?”
Ouch.
She was speechless.
“Must not have been, since you got the whole silent-treatment thing down pat,” he said, answering for her.
She shook off the let’s-be-old-buddies effect he had on her and pulled herself together. “Axle didn’t understand my passion for art. He’d grown up as a grease monkey’s son, and instead of getting the son he wanted was strapped with a daughter who loved to paint.”
“Painter, huh? That must have made things really interesting. Did you design the MC garage logo outside?”
A rush of satisfaction tunneled through her system, and her heart flipped with pride. With one question, Cade had managed to lift her usual surly demeanor. He’d noticed the only thing that brought as much pleasure as finding the culprit behind her fiancé’s death—her love for the arts.
“Yep.” She kicked her boots around in the dry oil stains on the garage floor. “It was my Christmas gift to the club last year.”
“Damn good, Connors. And I’m not known to give out compliments lightly.”
She flashed him a smile and shrugged. “Thanks, I guess.”
Cade scratched his shoulder. “So, I take it father and daughter lunch dates were few and far between.”
Em laughed, despite herself, and leaned back against the workbench. “I must be an easy mark if you figured me out so quickly.”
“Daddy issues aren’t hard to spot.” When he moved to grab another wrench, her entire body trembled, and lust tunneled like a tidal wave to her core. No man should have guns that looked that good. And shit, his had to be covered in tattoos. There was no reason she should be daydreaming about more desirable places for him to put those hands. None at all, but she was. “Looks like you’ll be making some cash tomorrow.”
Em glanced at the bike, then at him, and couldn’t help but smile. “Whoever showed you around a garage sure knew what they were doing.”
A hard smile turned up the corners of his lips. “When your dad passes, and your mother’s only wish is to
get her teenage son off the streets, well, family will do just about anything. My uncle took me in and gave me a skill that was better than selling weed to the local high school kids.” Cade scratched his chin. “He also taught me to be a stand-up guy and respect the ladies.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” Em shivered, remembering the horrific day her dad had died and passed the responsibility of the club onto her. That day killed any notion she had about collecting her art scholarship to NYU. She understood the pain of loss more than she wanted to admit.
When he looked up, he said, “Don’t stress about it. We all have sorry lots in life.”
Em tensed and fiddled with the label on her water bottle. Jesus, why had she opened up to this stranger? She didn’t know him from Adam. But when it came right down to it, she felt good releasing some of her pent-up anger. The anger she had over snuffing out her own dreams in order to uphold Axle’s.
Cade tilted his head to the side, a drop of grease smudged his chin, and God help her but she couldn’t stop staring. Without tearing her gaze from the ovary-exploding image of a bare-chested Cade stretched beneath the old bike, Em hitched a butt cheek on the workbench and set her water bottle down. “Well, I gotta say, you know your way around a motorcycle.”
He rolled over and sat up. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Wiping his hands on a towel, he cut a glance at the mini-fridge. “There wouldn’t be a beer in there with my name on it, would there?”
A laugh bubbled out past her lips. She stood and made sure to keep her gaze focused on the fridge and not on the shirtless, sexy biker taking up space in her garage. “Hope you like Miller,” she said, pulling out two cold ones.
He climbed to his feet and moved behind her. “As long as it’s cold, I’m good.”
She turned around, startled by his closeness, and handed him a beer. The brush of his hand on hers made an unwanted tremor spark inside her. “What happened to the cocky asshole biker hell-bent on making my vice president come unglued?”
His smirk grew as he tipped the beer to his lips. “He got the girl alone.”
“You know, Cade. Getting me alone could have dangerous consequences.” She smiled, her voice sounding more breathy than she’d wanted it to.
He set the beer bottle down on the table, leaned in slowly, and placed his hand on the wall near her head. The determined way his gaze lingered on her mouth made the bundle of nerves in her stomach tighten. “Jesus. I can only fucking hope so.”
“That’s not what I meant.” Then, without thinking, Em touched her finger to the blood-caked scratch trailing along his left cheek, a wound she’d been responsible for. He hissed a deep breath past his lips, and the gruff sound made a pleasurable shiver mow through her system. “Just be careful what you get mixed up in.”
She tilted her head to the side and saw his heated gaze lower to her tank top. The sheer fabric highlighted the way her nipples had strained to pinpoints. A growl rumbled deep within the back of his throat as she shifted against him. Desire burst into hot flames licking up her thighs. Cade dipped his head and nipped at her earlobe. “Fuck. I’ve got to taste those lips.” His fingers flew up to her mouth, brushing her lips, so achingly soft. “Will you kiss me for a job well done?”
Em swallowed hard. “And here I considered the beer payment enough.”
His knowing laughter sparked a slew of dark promises. She looked into his brown gaze and witnessed something that resembled tormented desire flash across his hard face. “I’ll help ease that ache between your thighs.” He grated against her cheek. “Make the hard-ass biker princess actually beg to be fucked harder.”
Shrugging off her nerves with a shaky breath, Em whispered, “I can get myself off just fine.”
For a moment, they both stared, sizing the other up. Then, without warning, Cade slid a hand up the length of her back, wrapping a firm hold around her neck as he fisted her hair into his hand. So controlling, and yet intoxicating because the angle alone of how he held her body molded his hard planes perfectly to her curves. His breath grew ragged when she melted into him, and he took the moment to his advantage, fusing them together in an aggressive embrace. Teeth met her bottom lip as he yanked her up against him, sealing their fate with a simple kiss. She pushed her hands at his muscular chest, trying to catch a breath, but instead he seemed destined to drown them both with his reckless kisses. His tongue roughly slid across her teeth until she had no other option but to allow him access. She went limp in his strong arms, craving the attention. Hot sparks crackled through every nerve ending, leaving her breathless. Pressure mounted in her trembling thighs, and when he sucked on her bottom lip, Em couldn’t control her whimpers, her pleas to be kissed harder, so she clamped their mouths more firmly together, digging her fingernails into his shoulder blades.
His eyes flared in response to her selfish reaction to draw him closer, and Em felt panic rush up her throat in a blind wave of lust. It had been wrong to allow Cade to kiss her. Stupid even. She thought she could use him as eye candy to help her through the long, lonely nights. Oh, how she’d been mistaken. Somehow the man working his tongue deeper inside her mouth, owning her body with his touch, had her begging for more. Slow, precise thrusts pumped in tune with her hips, and every thick, hard inch of him pressed into her thin leather pants.
And Em lost all control. As if it had a will of its own, her leg hitched up, and she secured a nice little spot against his crotch. A guttural groan ripped from within his chest as he bent her farther back, butting her calves into the edge of the workbench.
He tore his mouth from hers, brown eyes lit in a fiery passion. “Fuck, Em,” he growled against her lips. “You must be goddamn amazing in bed if that’s how you kiss.”
That break was enough to bring her back to her senses, even though she was dizzy with expectation. She finally allowed herself to focus on the biker locking her in his strong, tattooed arms and took in the intense confusion occupying his stunningly handsome face. “Well, at least you got something right, Cade. Though, I’m not sorry to say, you’ll never discover how much this body”—she ran both hands down her sides—“could rock your world.”
“Oh, really.” He shook his head as he brought her back to a standing position and released a bitter laugh. “Honey, I’m pretty sure I rocked your world. Those beautiful thighs of yours are shaking.” He bent over and scooped up his cut, then slung it on, allowing her to feel the full weight of his desire as he raised his gaze to her flushed cheeks. “You are going to be a problem, Em. But hell, I wouldn’t have it any other way. It fucking turns me on knowing I’m the one who got your cold blood racing hot.”
Damn her traitorous body. How could she get all hot and bothered by another man? Even if this was just about sex. Wes deserved so much better from her, but then she realized she’d never been worthy of his love. Not anyone’s.
The panic resurfaced. She’d stripped down her defenses and been taken to town by the hired help with a single, panty-melting kiss. It’s okay. It’s not like she was going to ride bitch on the back of Cade’s motorcycle into the clubhouse, even if they’d exchanged such a rebellious kiss.
Lifting her head, Em tugged her top back down. “Problem solved.” She glared at him. “Remember, if you choose to walk on the wild side and kiss me again, Cade, you’ll be signing your marching papers.”
“Oh, princess, it ain’t going be that easy to get rid of me.”
She felt her cheeks redden. “Last time I checked, Cade, my name was Em Connors, and I run the show when it comes to new blood at the Sinners’ clubhouse.”
He laughed under his breath. “Hell, Connors, I might be more man than you can handle.”
Plastering on a casual smile, Em tried to act unaffected, even as her thighs trembled, igniting the heat between her legs once more. “We should have never crossed the line. That kiss…well, the idea of you and me is entirely off-limits.”
He grabbed her by the arm and whirled her back into his smug face. “I’ll see you tomorro
w. Unless”—his gaze fell on her chest—“you’d rather spend some more one-on-one time.”
Biting back the curse ready to erupt from her mouth, Em plastered on a sugary-sweet smile and jerked her arm away. A playful grin tugged at his kiss-me-babe lips. Then the hint of confusion on his face threw his bad-boy attitude, and Em swore something deeper fired in his longing gaze. Instead of prolonging the intense stare-down, he broke eye contact and raked a disgruntled hand through his hair.
Em took it as her cue and scooted along the wall, backing away from their messy make-out encounter. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have more pressing matters to attend to than kissing the hired help.”
A muscle worked in his throat. “Thanks for the beer, doll.” He reached inside his vest pocket and retrieved a cigarette and plopped it between his lips. “But next time I’ll just skip to the action. It was so much more satisfying.”
She gasped. “God, you’re a cocky ass.”
Cade smiled and lit the smoke clamped in his mouth. “Didn’t see that to be much of a disappointment to you earlier.” He puffed out a smoke ring, sliding a look up and down her body. “I’ll see my way out, Connors.”
“While you’re at it, why don’t you ask one of the biker babes to lend a hand in relieving your dick.”
Shit, had she actually blabbed such a thing out loud? Most definitely yes, if that Cheshire-cat grin working its way into Cade’s dimples had anything to say about it. Not that Em wanted him to find a wannabe old lady to stroke him off. The thought alone made her want to go all she-devil on the prissy little slut’s ass. Now she’d derailed into no-woman’s territory, fantasizing about a one-night stand with an outcast biker.
She squared her shoulders and kicked away from the workbench. It happened to be too much too soon because the biker who had worked her mouth like he was determined to find out how many licks it took to get to the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop was moving toward her again.
