Runaway Ride: Alpha Bad Boy Biker and MC Romance Box Set

by A. L. Summers

  “Look, pal,” Reser puffed out his chest like an overprotective father and addressed Kyle, “Haley’s got practice and—”

  “Haley.”

  That single word made her turn back to Kyle. The way he said her name had her panties burning. It was only two simple syllables, but the way he drew it out, stretching her name and inflicting the word with his unique accent, practically had her stripping in the snow and begging him to take her back to his cave.

  “Have a drink with me.” It was a command, no doubt about that.

  Suddenly, all thoughts of the snow-capped Rocky Mountains seemed to pale in comparison to the promise in that simple command. What was the harm of having a drink anyway? It was obvious the caveman wasn’t about to let her go, if his eyes were any indication. Besides, as much as she hated to admit it, she was exhausted. It was four in the afternoon and she’d been up since three, training her butt off. She’d gone down the slopes so many times that she’d lost count. A few ten minute breaks here and there weren’t cutting it. The thought of two more weeks of training at that pace seemed exhausting, and caused her body to throb painfully. Right then, coffee sounded like Heaven.

  Turning back to Reser, Haley shrugged casually. “I’m exhausted, Reser. You mind?”

  The bearded and bedraggled Olympian looked from Kyle to her with uncertainty furrowing his brows; but, after a long sigh, he acquiesced. “I’ll check in on you at eight. If you’re not back by then, I’m calling the police and explaining in excruciating detail the last person I saw you with.”

  Kyle laughed heartily and said, “When you do, make sure you talk to Jules Hurst.”

  Reser scowled, but Haley ignored it and pushed past him. “Fair warning. I’m getting the most expensive thing on the menu and you're paying.”

  Another deep chuckle that curled her toes. “I’d expect nothing else.”

  ***

  “What’s your most expensive drink?” Haley smiled politely at the waiter, as she handed him the frayed menu without opening it.

  “That would be our deluxe—”

  “She’ll have it. And I’ll have coffee. Black.”

  Haley turned her head slowly to the man sitting across from her, as he handed his menu to the waiter and sent the guy on his way.

  “How do you know that’s what I want?” Haley asked suspiciously, as she plunked her goggles on the table and rolled her neck to relieve the tension.

  “I don’t, but you did say you wanted the most expensive thing. I figured you’d want it regardless of the ingredients.” The man shrugged lightly and placed his arms on the table. “You can always get something else, if you don’t like it.”

  Biting back a sassy retort, Haley tugged off her gloves and wiggled her fingers to get warmth back into them. Turning away from Kyle, she looked around the dead restaurant. There was only one other couple cozied up to the fireplace in the middle of the room. They looked like they were getting ready to leave, if constant arm stroking was any indication. Rolling her eyes at the scene, Haley relaxed into the calming atmosphere of the resort’s bar. Soft red carpet complimented the wood and hunting motif, and the fireplace centered in the middle of the restaurant added an unnecessary element of intimacy to the place.

  “I take it you’ve never been in here,” Kyle said, drawing Haley’s attention back to him.

  She shook her head once. “I’ve been here a week, but I haven’t seen much beyond the gym, my bed, and the slopes.”

  He leaned forward and dropped his voice down to a purr. “Why’s that?”

  Warning bells went off in her head, reminding her that animalistic sex in a deserted restaurant with a stranger was not on her agenda. “Because I want to go to the Olympics, and I don’t want to fuck up my chances.”

  At that moment, their drinks arrived and Kyle leaned back regarding her impassively. After delivering what looked like a mountain of whipped-cream and caramel drizzle, the waiter murmured something that sounded like enjoy and went to check on the love birds by the fire.

  Picking up the long spoon that sat demurely next to the monster drink, Haley scooped up about a pound of whipped cream and moaned softly as the flavors hit her tongue. She had a terrible sweet tooth. As she took a bite of the drink that would probably make her cry if she knew he calorie count, she knew she was still going to finish every last drop.

  “You know what they say, Haley,” Kyle murmured around a sip of steaming, black coffee. “All work and no play—”

  “Makes people very successful?” she interjected with a doe-eyed glance.

  Another deep laugh rumbled through the caveman’s chest. Despite her best intentions, Haley smiled and laughed right with him. From there, the conversation hopped to a variety of topics, and two hours later, Haley was one hundred percent positive that Kyle should have Bad Boy tattooed across his forehead.

  Not only was the man panty-dropping, mind-numbingly attractive, but he was also President of the Red Hawks Motorcycle Club. His tanned skin and intense dark brown eyes came from his mother, a Ute Native American. His height and long, thick black hair—only seen after he'd removed his black ski cap—came from his Caucasian father, who, as Kyle so elegantly stated was a cold, cruel bastard.

  Reaching over to touch his arm lightly, Haley smiled into his eyes. “It’s getting late and I have training in the morning, so…”

  Kyle smiled softly and took the hint. “I was serious about before, though, Haley. All work and no play does make you a dull girl.”

  Rolling her eyes, Haley swatted him playfully. “I thought this was playing. Was I wrong?”

  “Not entirely, but you need to have more fun.” Kyle leaned forward, his eyes tracing her lips and dropping down to her ski suit covered breasts. She might as well have been naked with the way he looked at her.

  “You’re about ten inches south of where my eyes are.”

  A smile ghosted across his face. “Come to the bike blessing tomorrow night.”

  Another command. The man was full of them.

  “What’s that?”

  “You’ll have to come and find out.”

  Haley laughed, the sound a tad bit too sultry. She tried to remind herself again that she didn't have time to play. Her goal was the Olympics, she had to keep that in mind.

  “I have training tomorrow, and in between I have to get some sort of sleep.”

  Kyle shrugged lightly, reached into his back pocket, and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and pulled out a twenty and a business card. “Here.” He passed Haley the business card and slapped the twenty on the table, as he got up from his seat. “It starts at eight, behind the Killigan’s. Wear something… black.”

  And with that, Kyle strode out of the restaurant, never looking back and never saying goodbye. “Arrogant prick,” Haley muttered, even as she smiled at his back.

  Turning the card over, she read the lettering. “Killigan’s Restaurant and Garage.” Frowning, she re-read the card. “Well, that’s a weird compilation.”

  Stuffing the card into a zippered pocket, Haley looked at their empty drinks and around the desolate restaurant. The tables had been wiped, chairs overturned, and the vacuum had already come around to pick up bits of debris embedded in the carpet.

  Smiling with a shake of her head, Haley hopped off the chair and strode out of the restaurant and past the lobby to her room. “Stupid know-it-all.”

  ***

  “Thanks,” Haley mumbled, as she passed the fare to the taxi driver.

  He turned in his seat and gave her a dubious look. “You sure this is where you want to go, lady?”

  Haley wasn’t sure of anything, but she smiled and nodded all the same. “Yup, and you can keep the change.”

  She reached for the handle and climbed out of the taxi. Immediately, a chorus of engines greeted her ears and made her wince. Taking a deep breath and stuffing her hands in the back of her black jeans, Haley strode around the bright lights of Killigan’s to the back of the building.

  The revvi
ng of engines got louder; but, just beneath the noise, Haley could hear the chatter of voices. Calming her wildly beating heart, Haley said the same thing she’d been saying for the past hour, “It’s fine. The president invited you. It’s okay if you’re a little late.”

  Little was an understatement. She was almost an hour late, since she spent way too much time deciding on an outfit. She hadn’t wanted to come off as slutty, but she also hadn’t wanted to come off as prudish. In the end, her bed was covered in clothes, her bathroom counter overflowed with hair products and cosmetics, and she’d slipped on a plain pair of waist hugging black jeans, a dark gray tank top, a black pullover, and black eyeliner done in a cat-eye.

  Coming around the building, Haley’s eyes widened at the fifty or more bikers meandering behind the restaurant and garage. What had her eyes widen even further was that many of the members were young, some in their teens, others their mid-thirties, but none of them were the seventy-year olds Haley saw cruising down the highways in Burlington. It almost seemed to her like a tribe. Each member had some sort of emblem or symbol to show that they were part of the Red Hawks Motorcycle Club.

  Slowing her walk, she eyed the bikes scattered around. Some looked new, other refurbished, but the thing that struck her as odd was that almost all of them sported some sort of red or black coloring. A fiery red and black hawk graced the side of one bike. A black skull dripping red blood graced another. Every bike looked well-maintained, similar to their riders, who didn’t really look like the stereotypical crazed, drug dealing, fighters presented on the Sons of Anarchy show.

  A deep, very hard to miss chuckle rang in her ears. Haley looked up to see Kyle standing by a sleek, new-looking, jet black Harley-Davidson. Unlike the first time when she’d saw him in a bulky ski suit, the man had on a tight-fitting, black t-shirt with a leather jacket overtop and worn blue jeans. If she’d been wearing a skirt, she was pretty sure her panties would have hit the floor, but she was just surprised they didn’t go up in flames.

  Here was Kyle in his element, king of the jungle, master of his cave. There was nothing, nothing hotter than a man who had his shit together and knew exactly who he was. His head turned up, and Haley watched the thick braid of his hair flip over his shoulder and land on his chest.

  “It should be criminal for a man to have that kind of thick, long hair,” she muttered. She suddenly became very aware of her own auburn locks. She’d cut her hair short almost six months ago. Now, it fell just past her chin, but didn’t quite touch her shoulders.

  “Haley.” Kyle waved her closer. It seemed that every single head turned her way.

  Crap! Haley wished that a hole would suddenly open and swallow her up. She was way out of her element, knowing as much about biker culture and norms, as she did about imaginary numbers in her eleventh grade math class – that being a big, fat nothing.

  Her feet felt like lead, as she walked over to Kyle and his bike. For the first time, she noticed he was surrounded by people. They were all men, three on his left and the same number on his right. While five of them looked like bikers with their leather jackets, black clothes, and cool demeanor, one of them was very obviously a priest, dressed in a black button-down shirt with black slack and a white priest’s collar.

  In the painstakingly slow amount of time it took her to walk over to Kyle and his group, Haley took inventory of the bikers surrounding him. The laughter and conversation flowing easily between the five men denoted that they were a lot closer than the other members of the club.

  One of the guys was smoking a cigarette, but blowing the puffs away from the group. He had obnoxiously blonde hair that was so bright it stood out against the night. The guy standing next to the smoker looked like a tree, with thick everything, and the sort of height Frankenstein’s monster would have envied. He had dark brown or black hair that was cut close in a sort of Mohawk-style. The dude standing next to him was the least remarkable of the bunch, slouched over with his hands in his pockets and of average height. Despite his normal appearance, there was something in his stance, an almost protective edge. It made Haley think the guy wanted people to underestimate him; so, when the time came, he could really fuck them up.

  Across from the trio, there were two guys who looked a little like twins because their faces were the same. They both had killer smiles, light brown hair, and bright green eyes that were easily visible in the dimly lit area. The only noticeable difference between the two was that one of the guy’s hair was long and pulled back in a ponytail, while the other’s was cut short with curly waves.

  All-in-all, the guys weren’t a bad looking bunch. Maybe, if Kyle hadn’t been there, she would have flirted with each of them respectively; but, there was something about the club’s president. Something in his dark brown eyes stripped her down and made her achingly aware that she’d been celibate for two and a half years.

  “Hi,” Haley raised her voice slightly over the dim of conversation, giving the group a small wave.

  Kyle’s lips quirked. “Guys, this is Haley.”

  They all said a collective hello, before Kyle went around and introduced the group, starting with Mr. Smoker and moving in the same direction as her previous thoughts. “Haley, this Roderick, Conrad, Nathaniel, Theo, and Jules.”

  She nodded politely, though she knew she would forget all their names in a matter of seconds. “Um, sorry I’m late. There was, um, traffic.” The minute the words came out her mouth, she regretted them. They were in the mountains during the off-season with the only likely hold up being a deer or duck crossing. Traffic was not an acceptable excuse.

  But luckily, she recovered quickly. “Did I miss everything?”

  Kyle adjusted on his bike, making her very aware of the way his abs were outlined through his tight shirt. How the man could be so comfortable wearing so little was a mystery to her. While the weather wasn’t the kind of cold that usually came with winter in the mountains, it wasn’t warm either.

  “We were actually just about to get started.” Kyle gestured for Haley to come next to him. She decided that standing like an idiot in front of people she didn’t know was probably worse than just standing by his side. She headed towards him, but the minute she got close, he yanked her down onto his bike and lap. Something hot and hard that was definitely not part of his bike poked her thigh.

  Haley fought down a blush, and Kyle just smiled. “Father Vernors, you wanna start?”

  A bike blessing, as Kyle had called it, was exactly like it sounded. The priest, Father Vernors, said an opening prayer, went around and blessed all the bikes for safe travels, and then said a closing prayer. It wasn’t super-religious. In fact, Kyle didn’t bow his head or repeat the prayers, like some of the other members. Haley decided it was sort of like Christmas, a Christian holiday, but one that non-Christians celebrated, too.

  The entire process took around an hour or so, and right after that everyone went into Killigan’s for food and drink. Haley felt a little awkward at first, but surprisingly she didn’t feel that way for long. Kyle took her around and introduced her to some of his club members, while others came up to them and struck up conversations. In no time, she was talking and laughing with the members, feeling right at home in the mom and pop restaurant.

  “So,” Haley began, as she waved goodbye to a member and they continued their tour around the crowded room, “why did you name it Killigan’s?”

  “It’s my last name, and it just fit.”

  “I didn’t know that was your last name.”

  Kyle gave her a funny look, one she couldn’t comprehend. “Kyle Killigan.”

  She nodded and turned away to smile and shake hands with more new people who came up to them. Another half an hour passed, and Haley was thanking her stars she’d worn ballet flats instead of the black pumps she’d considered wearing.

  “Haley?”

  She turned to Kyle and cocked a brow at him. “Yeah?”

  He smiled at her and held up his watch. She read the time and gasped. �
�Holy shit! It’s two! I have to be up in an hour!”

  Kyle chuckled, as he waved off yet another new person and steered them towards the door. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

  “Don’t you have to stay and do, I don’t know, president stuff?”

  “It can wait. Taking you home is more important than doing president stuff.” Haley could hear the humor in his words, but a part of her got all warm and fuzzy at the “more important” part.

  A few minutes later and they’d left the crowded restaurant and were headed up the winding mountain road back to the resort. Haley’s arms were wrapped tightly around Kyle’s middle, as he maneuvered his bike up the incline. The purr of the engine beneath her made Haley wet, and the constant friction of his back against her breasts made her nipples hard.