1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Fourteen

by Kristen Ashley

“Fucking men.”

  Five minutes later I’d punched out, grabbing my bag as I went to look for Rebel. He met me coming down the hallway, obviously excited. I opened my mouth to ask about his talk with Shade. Before I could say anything, he caught me up into his arms, giving me a hard, smacking kiss.

  “Gonna get the bike,” he said when it ended, eyes still dancing. “But I need your help picking it up. Shade wants to take care of things tonight. That’s why he asked Bone to let you off work.”

  Ah, crapsicles. That explained Bone’s general pissiness about sending me home.

  “You should’ve talked to me first,” I said, frowning. “I can’t afford to—”

  “It’s all good,” Rebel insisted. “Bone won’t hold it against you, I promise. But I really need your help. I’ve got my truck here. We’re gonna head to Shade’s place and pick up the bike, and then I need you to drive the truck back home for me.”

  “Can’t we go in the morning?” I asked, annoyed. “It seems weird that we have to do this in the middle of the night.”

  Rebel flushed.

  “He gave me a discount, okay?” he admitted. “Way better deal than I expected. I’m scared he’ll change his mind. We get it done tonight, it’s done. You’ll love the new bike, I promise. We’re gonna have a blast on it.”

  “Okay,” I said. “But you owe me.”

  “Anything you want, baby. I promise. Just do this one favor for me. I swear you won’t regret it.”

  Grabbing my hand, he dragged me down the hall, through the bar and into the parking lot. Lined up across the front were the Reapers MC bikes, flanked by Shade and his brothers. Most of them were busy getting ready to leave, but Shade stood staring at us, his big arms crossed over his chest in the dim glow of the single streetlight.

  “Oh, I forgot one thing,” Rebel said, pausing on the porch. He turned me toward him, frowning apologetically. “I’ve got a bunch of shit in the front seat of the truck. Boxes and stuff that can’t go in the back, so there’s no room for you. I need you to catch a ride with Shade, sound good?”

  My eyes widened, and I stiffened.

  “No, that’s not good,” I hissed in a low voice, glancing toward the man in question, hoping he couldn’t read lips. Offending him wasn’t the brightest, but neither was climbing on his bike.

  Way too scary.

  Rebel caught my shoulders, giving me a little squeeze as he stared deep into my eyes. “I’m sorry, babe. I really am. But I need your help tonight, so please say you’ll do it? Just this once? It’s not even that far.”

  I looked back toward Shade, who watched us, his face expressionless. The man was terrifying, no question, but would it really kill me to take a quick ride with him?

  “You’ll be right behind us the whole time?” I asked Rebel, frustrated. But it wasn’t actually that big of a deal, was it? I’d already clocked out for the night and since I’d planned on pulling a full shift, it wasn’t like I’d had anything else going on. Rebel nodded.

  “Right behind you,” he said. “No worries. But you better get your ass over there. He’s waiting, and he’s not the most patient of guys.”

  With that, Rebel turned me toward the steps and pushed me forward, giving me a little slap on the butt. Usually I thought that was fun and cute, but it wasn’t nearly so fun and cute with the Reapers as our audience. Taking a deep breath, I steeled myself to face Shade.

  It’s no big deal, Mandy. Just one quick ride. Get over yourself.

  Chapter Three

  “You okay with this?” Shade asked, looming over me. He didn’t look like a man who was happy because he’d just sold a bike. He was clearly in a shit mood, and that frown of his would’ve sent children screaming.

  Hell, it nearly sent me screaming.

  Suck it up, Mandy. No big deal. You’ve dealt with guys worse than him before.

  Hmm… Wasn’t entirely sure that was accurate. My ex—Trevor—had been a jackass and a petty criminal, but if those murder rumors were true, he was nothing compared to Shade. Of course, Shade hadn’t gotten me thrown in jail and sentenced to probation, so that was a point in his favor.

  I swallowed, glancing at his intimidatingly large maroon Harley. The Harley I’d soon be riding. I wondered how it would feel to cradle his ass in my hips and immediately got tinglies. Yup, those were definitely tinglies. I just couldn’t quite decide if they were tinglies of fear or—

  It’s only a ride, I reminded myself. Probably won’t even take very long. Then we can go home and I can have a little talk with Rebel about boundaries, and how he shit all over mine.

  “Yeah, sure. It’s no big deal,” I said, trying to keep the words light. The fact that my voice cracked halfway through probably didn’t help my case.

  Shade cocked his head, staring me down.

  “You sure?”

  I glanced toward Rebel, who nodded eagerly. Right now he wasn’t looking very cute, I decided. Not very cute at all.

  “I said it’s fine,” I told Shade, and this time my voice held steady.

  “We leaving, boss?” one of the other Reapers asked. Another big guy. Did they make these bikers in any other size? His vest patches declared his name was Dopey and that he was something called a road captain. I looked him up and down, deciding that he looked less like one of the seven dwarfs than anyone I’d ever seen in my entire life—and I’d spotted Dolph Lundgren in the Las Vegas airport once.

  “Guess so,” Shade said. “You’re with me, little waitress.”

  I sort of wanted to protest this, but mostly I wanted the whole thing over, so I climbed up behind him on the motorcycle. He kicked it to life with a roar, the bikes slowly pulling out in formation with ours in the front rank. Rebel shot me another thumbs-up as we passed.

  I’d have flipped him off, but Shade gave the throttle a twist and the powerful machine leapt forward with a burst of speed that had me holding his waist tight with both hands. Then we were tearing down the highway, the sound of engines splitting the night.

  Rebel had insisted that we wouldn’t be going far. As the miles passed, I started to realize that his definition of “far” and mine might be slightly different. Given that I’d only lived in the area for about six months, it wasn’t like I recognized any landmarks at night.

  I didn’t know how long we’d been riding when I started to look at mile markers. We might’ve been heading south—I couldn’t tell for sure. I’d just started to move from “slightly uncomfortable” toward “scared shitless” when I saw a sign for Cranston. I hadn’t given much thought about where Shade might live, but I guess it made sense for him to live close to a chapter…so I guessed technically Rebel hadn’t lied to me.

  We’d have words about this later, I decided. Stern words, and lots of them. Until then, might as well make the most of it. I forced myself to relax, leaning with Shade as we followed the long, sweeping curves of the highway through the hills, arms wrapped tight around his waist.

  In a strange way it was almost fun.

  Except “fun” wasn’t really the right word. Maybe exhilarating, because despite the fact that Shade was scary, he was also sexy in a way I didn’t like to think about. (You know, because scary trumps sexy, or it’s supposed to.) It was hard to stay scared, though, when we were flying down the road in the darkness, the sound of the big Harley engines surrounding me like a loud but very comfortable blanket.

  There was nothing quite like riding a bike at night. One of the things that’d attracted me to Rebel in the first place was his motorcycle. (And yes, I realize that makes me shallow. In my defense, I don’t think Rebel even looked up from my boobs to check out my face until our third date, so it wasn’t like he was a saint, either.) I’d never ridden before, but from the minute I hopped on the back of his bike, I loved it.

  Loved it.

  As in, loved everything about it. I loved the wild, free feeling it gave me as the wind blew by. I loved the sound, the sense of connection with the road. I even loved the danger, because the smallest mi
stake could lead to a crash, yet the man cradled between my thighs was in total control and that was hot.

  Unfortunately, riding with Shade was significantly hotter than riding with Rebel. There was something about being so close to him, my front glued to his back as he took full control. The way his body tensed when my fingers gripped him tight. Too, too many tinglies.

  This wasn’t a good thing.

  Not for a girl with a boyfriend. Like I said, I can admit I’m shallow, but I’ve never been fickle. I wasn’t a cheater and something about this seemed like cheating.

  Maybe it was the way I could feel all the muscles under his leather.

  I mean, I’d speculated when I’d seen him at the barbecue (I’m only human), but until now I hadn’t had proof he was actually as sexy under his clothes as my imagination insisted he must be. His thighs were big and solid, too. I knew this because I had to stretch my legs wide to make room for him, and since he didn’t have a backrest on the bike, that meant I had to stick tight or risk falling off.

  As seductive as all this was, there was also something weirdly relaxing about our ride.

  Shade was in charge. Nothing I did could change that, which meant I had to just relax and let him do his thing. When he leaned, I leaned. There was no hope of taking control over the situation, and while riding this fast through the dark should’ve been scary, he handled the bike in a way that left me feeling completely safe. Rebel was a much sloppier rider. Come to think of it, he was sort of a sloppy lover, too. He made up for it with enthusiasm, but still… I couldn’t help but wonder if Shade’s control of his bike would extend to other things…

  Nope. Don’t go there.

  Eventually we slowed and I realized we’d come to a town. Cranston, which was bigger than Violetta. A lot bigger. We passed a sign for a University of Idaho satellite campus, and I remembered the catalogue my sister had been looking at last month. She wanted to get a nursing degree, although seeing as she had three little kids and a van that couldn’t make it out of the front yard, I wasn’t entirely sure it was a realistic goal.

  Passing the school, we rode through the small downtown before turning again and heading back out into the countryside. I started to tense up—riding to Cranston was one thing. I hadn’t expected to come here, but it also wasn’t very far from home. Going past Cranston wasn’t part of the deal no matter how you looked at it. I’d just made up my mind to signal Shade to stop when we slowed again, turning onto a gravel road.

  The kind of road you drive down to bury bodies.

  Rebel, I’m gonna kick your ass for this one.

  Thankfully, I saw lights up ahead, and then we pulled up to a building that’d been constructed out of rough-hewn logs. You know, the kind that pioneers used to build because they didn’t have any money and that rich people build nowadays because they have too much. At least twenty motorcycles were parked out front, and I saw people on the porch hanging out and drinking beer. Loud music poured out of the building.

  I don’t know what I’d been expecting, but this wasn’t it. Not even a little bit. It couldn’t be Shade’s home, that was for damned sure. It was a motorcycle clubhouse, and they were in the middle of a full-fledged party. Either Shade had been lying to Rebel or Rebel had been lying to me.

  Fucking men.

  Shade turned off his motorcycle, and then I was climbing off and hunting for Rebel. He should’ve been right behind us but there weren’t any headlights in the distance. Shade swung off his bike and caught my arm possessively, dragging me toward the broad porch. Something was wrong here. Really wrong. I jerked back against him, but he didn’t let go.

  “Where’s Rebel?” I demanded, a mixture of fear and anger building. Shade might be the club president, but he had no damned right to drag me off like this.

  Shitty to be me, because nobody seemed to have told him that.

  “Get inside,” he said, sounding angry. Really angry. His fingers dug into my arm and I wondered what the hell I’d ever done to him. If Rebel had blown us off, it wasn’t exactly my fault. I was just trying to do the two of them a favor.

  I stumbled up the steps behind Shade, surrounded by the other bikers who’d been riding with us. Several men on the porch shouted out a welcome, and I saw a woman who looked vaguely familiar frown at me, her expression thoughtful. Then we were through the door and in what would’ve been a greatroom, if this was a house.

  It wasn’t a house, though. Not even close.

  It didn’t have regular furniture, for one thing. Just lots of little tables, a few mismatched couches, two pool tables and a bar along one wall. Across the wall facing the door was a massive Reapers MC sign, complete with the skull and crossed scythes they all wore on the backs of their vests.

  Twin blondes wearing nothing but tiny jeans shorts stepped up to Shade. One blocked his path, rubbing her hand down his stomach toward the fly of his pants while the other glared at me.

  “You said you’d play with us tonight, Shade,” she huffed, boobs jiggling. I stared at them, mesmerized. I mean, they were right there, all naked and—

  “Change of plans,” he replied, and you’d never have guessed a gorgeous, half-naked chick was doing everything in her power to grab his cock. His indifference was chilling. She gave him a sexy little pout—a pout so hot that even I was turned on.

  Okay, not really, but you get the picture.

  I’d have been all over her if I swung that way.

  Instead of responding, Shade grabbed my wrist tighter and pulled me across the room, the crowd parting as more than one biker eyed me curiously. I recognized several more faces from the bar, and a few of the girls smiled at me knowingly.

  They definitely had the wrong idea about what was happening here, I realized. Shade hadn’t made a secret about his interest in me so I guess it was the logical conclusion, but still…

  “Where’s Rebel?” I demanded, but either Shade couldn’t hear me or he was ignoring me. I had a feeling it was the latter.

  Not good.

  We passed through the room and into a hallway with bathrooms on either side, then out the back door. There was a covered porch back here, too, full of people smoking. Broad steps led down to a courtyard. In the center was a bonfire. Along the right was a concrete block wall with a covered walkway running alongside. Cleverly hidden speakers played the same music as inside.

  I’d never really given much thought to what an MC clubhouse would look like, but this definitely didn’t match any of my stereotypes. Under normal circumstances, I’d be full of questions. Tonight, Shade hustled me toward the building on the far side of the courtyard so fast that I could hardly keep up.

  This one was long and low and it looked much older. Sort of like a bunkhouse, I decided, with regular windows along the wall. The kind of thing you’d see on a ranch or in a logging camp. The door opened and out stumbled an older man who was clearly drunk, along with a much younger woman who giggled and tugged at her skirt.

  Oh, hell no.

  This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. I didn’t know what was in there for sure, but I’d bet good money it wasn’t Rebel with a birthday cake and a bow around his neck.

  “I want to go home,” I said, jerking back against Shade, trying to stop him. He spun on me, his face dark and intense.

  “We’ll talk inside,” he snarled, then started forward again.

  Shit shit shit!

  My bunkhouse prediction was right—we passed through the building and turned left, heading down a long hallway with doors on either side at regular intervals. Some were open. I smelled pot in the air. As we walked past one door, I glanced in to find a man I’d seen at the Pit lying back on the bed, smoking a blunt while a blond head bobbed in his lap.

  I had no place in my head to store this.

  Shade opened a door and pushed me through roughly. I caught a glimpse of a bed before I stumbled. He caught me, kicking the door shut even as he slammed my body against it, covering it with his.

  His mouth slanted over mine i
n the most brutal kiss I’d ever experienced, hands reaching down to grab my thighs, hoisting them up to wrap my legs around his waist.

  Chapter Four

  My world exploded in a bizarre mix of outrage, fear, confusion and desire. Shade’s tongue demanded access to my mouth and I felt his dick between my legs, hard and ready to go. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to do something.

  Anything.

  My mouth opened to tell him to fuck off and Shade took advantage, thrusting his tongue deep inside. My hands flew up to his hair, my fingers digging deep as I jerked his head back as hard as I could. There was a secret, fucked-up part of me that was turned on by his raw sexuality but I was not down with this.

  Shade kissed me for a few seconds longer. He could take this as far as he wanted, I realized—no one in this building would lift a finger to stop him.

  Holy.

  Fucking.

  Shit.

  I exploded into action, bucking hard as I ripped at his hair. Shade didn’t even notice. For an instant, I thought he would go through with it. Then he dropped me, turning away and stalking across the room, punching the wall in sudden fury. Plaster cracked, and he gave a low groan—pain? Frustration? I couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it didn’t bode well for Yours Truly. I scrambled to stand as he leaned forward against the shattered wall, then punched it again. Sweet baby Jesus. The situation was falling apart fast.

  I reached for the doorknob.

  “Do not open that door,” he snarled, and I jumped away like a kid caught trying to steal a cookie. Did the guy have eyes in the back of his head? Shade took a deep, slow breath, then turned back to me, his expression full of dark fire.

  “What the fuck’s your game?”

  “Excuse me?” I replied, astounded.

  “Excuse me?” he mocked, his lip curling. “Where the fuck do you think you are, Mandy? This isn’t the bar and you aren’t gonna get a better tip just ’cause you got a cute ass. You don’t fuckin’ tease a man like me, and you sure as fuck don’t do it in my own Goddamned clubhouse!”