BikersLibrarian

by Shyla Colt

  They were back to the same played-out argument. Her mother seemed to think having a man would fix everything. Juliette disagreed. She had to be able to know she could make it on her own before she threw in with someone else. Or she’d always wonder about why she was with them, and hesitate and stay when she should walk away.

  “I prefer it that way, actually.”

  Her mother sighed. “You’re getting older and by now I’m sure you’ve figured out love is fleeting. What matters is security, the kind that ensures your world’s not going to come crashing down about your ears at any moment. You had that with Peter.”

  The hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her mother hadn’t mentioned him since Juliette explained the breakup had been messy, one-sided and told her she didn’t want to talk about it. “He was never what he portrayed himself to be.”

  “No man is. He had power and wealth. Being easy on the eyes was an additional bonus. You’d be set for the rest of your life.”

  “And completely miserable. Why are you bringing him up now after all this time?” Mentally holding her breath, she waited for an answer.

  “I always assumed you were pining for him.” She shrugged. “Usually when someone doesn’t want to talk about a situation it’s because their heart is still in it.”

  “Trust me, that’s not the case at all.” Juliette frowned.

  “It’s never too late to reconnect. Maybe what you need is closure. Don’t use this new man as a distraction. ”

  “I lost his number on purpose, Mother. When I said I’d be miserable with him, it wasn’t the dramatic ramblings of a girl who had her heart broken by her first love. Peter’s bad news with a capital B. He uses his wealth and power to hide behind, and Shooter could never be anyone’s replacement.”

  “What do you mean, baby?” Her mother tilted her head.

  “I really don’t want to talk about this. Just take my word. I’m much better off with Shooter.”

  Apprehension flashed in her mother’s eyes.

  “Is there something you want to tell me?” Juliette asked.

  “I ran into Peter a few days ago, unexpectedly. He asked about you and asked me to put in a good word for him.”

  Closing her eyes, she balled her hands into fists. Was he following her, or was this happenstance? Was she in danger?

  “Honey, are you okay?”

  “Mom, I want you to stay away from him. If you see him coming, go the other way.”

  Her mother snorted.

  “I’m serious, he’s unhinged. Things ended badly between us and like the spoiled brat he is, he can’t let go.” As an only child a part of Juliette lived to make her mother proud. Coming from that place, she couldn’t tell her the truth about Peter. It was a decision she was coming to regret.

  “Juliette, you’re frightening me. Is he stalking you? Should we be going to the police?”

  “No, nothing like that.” She rested her hand over her mother’s. “He’ll get bored and move on once he sees I’m not interested.”

  “I’m sorry if I caused you any trouble—”

  “No, Mom.” She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “This is all him.”

  Her mother smiled. “How about we eat? Nothing like a little comfort food to cure what ails you.”

  “Mom, I’m convinced your cooking could bring about world peace.” Once they stood, Juliette hooked their arms and headed for the kitchen.

  From the moment her mother had told her she’d seen Peter, the walls of the house had begun closing in. The thought of going home made her antsy. Peter appearing to her mother was a new violation. She put up a good front, feeding snippets of watered-down information about Shooter to her mother to get her off the subject of Peter, but her mind worked overtime. By the time she left her mother’s house she was too terrified to go home. I need to do something he won’t expect. The next best thing to being with Shooter was being at his place.

  She made a U-turn on Fifth Street, and Juliette headed for the south side of town. The houses got smaller and the large buildings turned into strip malls. She found herself at Shooter’s complex.

  After parking, she made the walk to his apartment, her tension easing with every step. Once she locked the door behind her she removed her heels and moved into his bedroom. Stripped down, she pulled on one of the discarded white t-shirts lying across the bed. She pulled it over her nose, inhaling his lingering scent as she moved to the center of the bed. Snuggling beneath the sheets, she drifted off, grateful for the oblivion it brought.

  The jarring jangle of a phone woke her. The darkness in the room told her night had fallen. Reluctantly removing her arm from the Shooter-scented cocoon she’d been wrapped snugly in, she located the cell phone on the nightstand and brought it to her mouth.

  “Hello?”

  “Juliette? Are you okay? I was about to send the boys into your house guns blazing.”

  “Not there.” She cursed her sleep-thickened tongue.

  “Where are you?”

  “Your bed.”

  “Damn, baby. You say all the right things without even trying.” The worry drained from his voice.

  “Miss you.”

  “I miss you too, baby. Were you sleeping?”

  “Yeah.” Scooting into a sitting position, she wiped the sleep from her eyes. “I had dinner with my mom tonight and I just couldn’t bring myself to go home.” He’d be pissed when he found out she hadn’t told him about Peter right away. But she couldn’t add any pressure on him.

  “I like the thought of you in my bed better anyways.”

  “I bet you do.” She grinned. “I’m even wearing your shirt.”

  He growled, and she laughed. By now she knew what her man liked.

  “Tease.”

  “Hey, I deliver.”

  “Yes, you do.” The silken purr made her center ache.

  She cleared her throat. “How are things?”

  “Good, busy but I’ll be wrapping it up tomorrow and on my way home.”

  Thank god.

  “Any recent developments?”

  “I got another flower, a single red rose.”

  “What does it mean?”

  She chewed the inside of her cheek.

  “Juliette.” His voice sliced like a knife. Sharp and bordering on angry, it was a demand for the truth.

  “Mourning.”

  “The fuck?” Shooter growled.

  “I know. I couldn’t figure it out either.” She cleared her throat and rubbed at her eyes, blinking as they adjusted to the darkness in the room.

  “I want you to stay at my place until I get home.”

  “No place I’d rather be.”

  “I like hearing you say that, baby.” His voice gentled and she smiled. He didn’t talk to anyone else that way. Her earlier reservations rushed to the surface. Does this mean he feels the same way?

  “Careful, you might come home and find all my things moved in. Tampons under the sink and pink razors might cramp your style.”

  “I could give a fuck less about what others think. I want you with me. If you moved all your shit in, I’d be ecstatic.”

  “You don’t think it’s too soon?” she whispered.

  “When is time? I know how I feel.”

  “How is that?” Her voice shook. The time for clarification had arrived.

  “I’ve been up-front with you from the start, Juliette. Why do you think I warned you away? I’m trying to move at the pace you need, but I’m already there.”

  “I’m there too.” She couldn’t say I love you out loud, not yet.

  “I don’t know what I did to deserve a woman like you, but I’m never letting you go. You’re mine now Juliette Moore. When I come home I’ll remind you of that.”

  Her throat went dry and the witty comment she had planned fell by the wayside.

  “Cat got your tongue, baby?”

  Smug bastard.

  “More like a Shooter.”

  A husky chuckle came through the phone.
“Get some sleep, baby. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Night, Shooter.”

  “Night, Juliette.”

  She drifted back to sleep with a smile on her face.

  * * * * *

  “You happy to be back?” Moose asked, leaning against the bar. The boys were unwinding with a small party at the club. It was the first time he’d been among them since he’d returned from his run. It felt good.

  “Yeah, I did.” His gaze followed Juliette as she stood in the corner with Boston and Nola. Every time they came to a club event she blended a little more seamlessly. Soon it’d be like she’d always been there. He liked the thought.

  “She won’t disappear if you look away, you know.” A new voice came from his left.

  “Funny, Specs. What’s going on?”

  “I actually found something I thought you might be interested in.”

  He finished off his beer and placed it on the bar. “About Stant?”

  “Yeah, it’s taken me a long time to unravel the red tape. Whoever he had on this was good.” Specs’ face bore a grudging look of respect.

  Waving his hand, Shooter caught Juliette’s attention and gestured toward the office down the hall. She nodded and he turned to Specs.

  “Show me.”

  Leaving the loud music and crowded space behind, they entered the office. Specs removed a flash drive from his pocket and handed it over.

  “It’s all there, man.”

  Plugging it into the laptop, he then opened the file. “What am I looking at?” Pulling up the folder, he clicked the different files, opening them and minimizing so they were all displayed.

  “Very expensive payoffs to three women each about a year apart during Stant’s time in college.”

  Shooter’s eyes threatened to bulge out of his eye sockets. “One hundred thousand dollars a pop?”

  “I’m thinking that money came with a very carefully worded non-disclosure agreement,” Specs said.

  “These are the girls?” He enlarged the pictures. Each girl looked different, two brunettes, one blonde. Their height, weight and facial structure varied. The only thing they had in common appeared to be their youth and humble beginnings. Fresh out of high school and from families that probably struggled to put food on the tables, they’d been ripe for the picking. Stant must’ve seemed like the Prince Charming to their Cinderella. “The bastard’s been preying on young girls for a long time.” Shooter shook his head. Scrolling down, he found the girls’ current addresses.

  “You don’t think we should contact them, do you?” Shooter glanced at Specs.

  “No, not until it becomes a last resort. What else do you have?” Shooter shook his head.

  “A lengthy list of transactions between him and some very important people, and some corresponding emails. The shit’s fucked-up, man. They talk about women the way we talk about guns,” Specs said.

  “Shit.”

  “Yeah, this would easily put him away. You want me to get Maverick on it?”

  “No, we don’t actually want to follow through.” Shooter shrugged. “We just want to punk him out. See how it affects him.” There were two kinds of bullies. Those who’d do whatever it took to upkeep their rep and others who crumbled under pressure like a cookie dunked in milk.

  “You have a plan, don’t you?” Specs asked. His large blue eyes stood out in his tan face. In his early twenties with a slender build, Specs resembled a high school teen playing dress up. Born into the Lords of Mayhem he’d grown up in the lifestyle and earned a college degree in electronics while he prospected.

  “Yeah, I think we should give him a dose of his own medicine. Send him a little love letter letting him know we’re very aware of his unacceptable behavior and it’d be a shame if something like that leaked to the public. It could ruin careers, make stock plummet.” He tsked. “Daddy wouldn’t like that, and the last thing a rich boy like him wants is to be on the outs with his daddy. Then who would bail him out when he fucks up?”

  “You think that’ll be enough?”

  “I have no clue. I’m trying to see what the man’s made of.” He wouldn’t admit it out loud but he was just as skeptical as Specs.

  “What do you need me to do?” Specs asked.

  “Make me up another thumb drive and add this letter I’m making up now.”

  Shooter’s fingers flew over the keyboard. He’d play it professional, let Stant sweat out who the sender might be. A man like him had to have enemies.

  After saving the file to the thumb drive, he closed everything and handed it over to Specs. “I want it slipped into his mailbox tomorrow. Make sure it can’t be traced back to us.”

  “You got it.”

  Specs gave a two-finger salute and left the office to join the others. Shooter remained in his seat, mentally dismembering the man threatening to ruin the happiness he’d found. With the past firmly placed behind him he was ready to move forward but Stant insisted on gumming up the works. His operation was far bigger than they’d first expected. Room 801 was a large building on a private piece of land about thirty minutes out of town. It ran like the bunny ranch, offering up girls and catering to fetishes of all shapes and sizes. The cut they were raking in made his eyes cross. Millions of dollars were changing hands right under their nose. Recently Stant had been talking to some of the other M.C.s. That would bother Tiny more than anything else. Ambitious assholes are going to learn it’s bad for your health to obstruct the path of a Lord. Stant would learn that firsthand before Shooter finished with him.

  Calmed, he pushed back from the desk and rejoined the crowd, seeking Juliette out. “Ladies. I’m going to steal Juliette from you now.”

  “The librarian must be doing something right, huh?” Boston grinned.

  “Damn straight.” Shooter laughed when Juliette pressed her face against his shoulder. Winking at Boston, he wrapped his arm around Juliette’s waist and guided her out into the crisp night. As summer faded into fall the nights began to have a little bite.

  “Where are you taking me?” she whispered.

  “To fulfill a promise.”

  Her brows drew together. He could hear the wheels spinning in her mind as she allowed her to lead him to the small garage they had out back, one of their many legal businesses.

  “Please tell me you didn’t buy me a motorcycle.”

  He barked a laugh. “No, do you want one?”

  “No. I’m content to ride on the back of yours.”

  Squeezing her hand, he guided her inside where he’d had a prospect bring his bike.

  “I don’t understand.” Juliette glanced around. “Are we going on a ride?”

  “You are.” He sat down on his bike.

  “Shooter.” Her quick glance down and puffed up cheeks conveyed her embarrassment.

  “I can still make you bashful. I like it.” Unbuttoning his fly, he shoved his jeans down and freed his rapidly growing cock. “Why did you think I asked you to bring a skirt to change into tonight?”

  “Because you like my legs.”

  “There’s always that too.” He stroked his shaft and grinned at the hungry way her gaze ate him alive. “That night we first met I promised you I’d show you how this is possible.”

  “I remember.”

  “Come here.” He crooked his fingers, moaning when she put extra sway into her steps. Every day she came out of her shell more as she blossomed into the woman she’d been destined to be all along. Stant might have slowed that process down but he could never stop it.

  Lifting her skirt, he licked his lips at the lacy black number she revealed. “You won’t need these.” Hooking a finger inside her waistband, he caressed her heated flesh. “Step out of them.” She rolled the underwear down her hips and legs. He licked his lips hungrily, taking in the site of her smooth brown skin. “Give ’em.” She handed over the silky scrap of black material. He held it to his nose, inhaling her earthy scent. “You smell so good. I’m not sure if I want to eat you or fuck you.” Her eye
s dilated and his cock swelled. “Pull your skirt up around your waist. I want to see that pretty pussy of yours.” She did as he asked and he moaned at the sight of her glistening lips. Neatly shaved with a thin strip of hair, she had his mouth watering. “Spread your legs and show me how wet you are.” She spread her lips and he moaned.

  “Let me see you touch yourself.” He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and began to stroke it to relieve the pressure. She circled her swollen clit with her finger, keeping their gazes locked. “That’s it baby, slip two fingers inside and get yourself ready for me.” She plunged two fingers into her slick center. His cock twitched and pre-cum leaked from his head. “Fuck, I can see your cream.” She increased her speed. Her head fell back. Dark curls tumbled down her back.

  “Fuck baby, you look so hot like that.” His balls ached. “Come here.” She opened her hazy eyes and slowly removed her fingers. He grabbed her wrist and brought her fingers to his mouth. Her flavor danced along his taste buds and he growled. Wrapping his hands around her waist he lifted her into his lap facing him. He leaned in, taking her lips. Sweeping his tongue across her lips, he dipped inside. I can’t decide which is sweeter, her mouth or her cunt. She sank down on his lips, running her pussy over his cock and coating his dick with her slickness. Her breath shortened. He pulled away from her lips.

  “No more teasing.” She whimpered.

  “This is your ride—you take the lead.”

  Clutching his shoulders she gripped his thighs tight between her own, rose up, and slammed down. He hissed as the moist heat sucked him in and held him tight.

  “Do you want it slow?” Lifting up inch by torturous inch, she eased back down in a measured rhythm that made him long for more. He dug his fingers into her hips and pushed down the urge to take over. This was for her.

  “I want it however you’ll give it to me.”

  “Good answer.” She slammed back down, taking the air from his lungs when she repeated the motion, each time faster than the one before. Back arched, she fucked him. There was no other word for the violent coming together of their bodies. She flexed the muscles of her pussy and his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

  “Are you going to fuck me back or do I have to do all the work?”