Off Limits: A Bedlam Butchers MC Romance (The Motorcycle Clubs Book 2)

by Dixon, Ruby

  It’s almost like we’re dating. Which I know isn’t the case, since I’m unlucky and we’ve really only had a night of hard fucking, but I’ll take what I can get.

  We cruise to the Roadhouse, and park along the back, by the dumpsters. There’s a ton of bikes up front, but the Roadhouse is well-known Butcher property, and I guess Solo doesn’t want to take any chances. We head in through the back doors, and I notice that Solo holds them open for me, like a gentleman.

  Man, I wish I could hook my claws into this guy permanently.

  The kitchen staff ignores us as we head through; they know better than to complain at someone wearing the Butcher’s cut, and Eric’s got his on display. I don’t have one, of course. We wend our way through the kitchen and into the main room of the Roadhouse. Crandall’s is covered with license plates and bike memorabilia on the walls, so it doesn’t immediately scream ‘Butcher Territory’. But anyone walking in automatically knows it’s ‘our’ place, just by the sheer amount of Butchers hanging out at the tables. Even though it’s barely noon, every shadowy back booth is full, and a few of the round tables in the center of the room are occupied by old ladies and prospects. I belong to neither, and the sight of them makes me realize it every time. With a sigh, I hesitate, but Solo’s hand on my back propels me forward, and we approach my brother and Dom.

  Gemini and Domino take the booth at the very back of the Roadhouse. It’s in the darkest, most private corner, and they always sit in the same spot every time. Sometimes I wonder what they could possibly talk about, but most of the time, I just don’t want to know. Co-presidents, they’ve been friends since grade school and founded the club after serving a stint in Iraq together. Gem never tells me the reason as to why he insists everything in the Butchers is in pairs, but I’m sure there’s a reason. My brother has lots of secrets.

  Of course, he’s not the only one in the family like that. It’s just that mine tend to rear their ugly heads.

  Solo steers me toward my older brother’s table, and I see Gem seated in his usual spot, his dark blond hair slightly mussed. He looks sleepy. Must have been a wild night. Dom looks tired too, but he grins at the sight of me. He seems a little twitchy this morning. “Hey, baby girl.”

  “Hey Dom,” I tell him.

  My brother’s never been as gregarious as his buddy. Dom usually hugs me as a greeting, and he acts more like my big brother than Gem does. But Gem? He tilts his head and studies me, and then crooks a finger, indicating that I should approach him. I do, and realize that I must be in deeper shit than I anticipated if neither Dom nor Gem is getting up to hug me or check that I’m okay.

  I approach and Gem puts an arm out and gives me an awkward, sideways hug. “You good, Lucky?” Even though he’s not getting up, his eyes are full of concern for me.

  I nod. “I’m good. Solo saved my ass.”

  He nods and looks over at Solo. “Thanks for taking care of my sister.”

  “It’s nothing.” He crosses his arms and looks like he wants to say more, but remains silent.

  Things are quiet for a long moment, and I frown, glancing back and forth between the men. Gem and Solo are staring at each other, and I can’t read anyone’s faces. My brother’s arm is still loosely around my waist, but no one’s speaking. Only Dom has that shit-eating grin on his handsome face. “Someone going to talk to me? Anyone?”

  I look at Dom and his nostrils flare. His forehead seems a little shiny with sweat. Is he on something? I’ve never known Dom to take drugs. I look over at my brother, and to my surprise, he tilts his head back against the wooden booth and groans.

  And then I hear a very feminine giggle come from under the table.

  “Oh, fucking gross!” I yelp. “You have sweetbutt under there?” I scurry backward and out of my brother’s grasp. Ew, ew, ew. My brother’s getting a blowie while talking to me? Not that I haven’t seen worse in the Roadhouse before, but does it have to happen while I’m three feet away?

  “Not sweetbutt,” Dom says, and that wild grin’s still on his face. I notice he’s not getting up either. “I’d introduce you to Kitty, but she’s got her mouth full at the moment.”

  “Ugh,” I tell him. Mouth and hands, I’d guess, since neither one of them is leaving the table.

  Solo snorts with amusement. “I see you two had a good night.”

  My brother just closes his eyes, a lazy smile on his face. “Great night,” he says. “We’re keeping Kitty, by the way.”

  Well, that’s new. Dom and Gem usually love them and leave them. Kitty must be creative as fuck. “Greaat. As much as I’d love to meet the new old lady in law, can we talk about my problem so I can head to work?”

  Gem opens his eyes and he frowns. “You’re not working this week.”

  “What? Why not?”

  “Cause I think we’ve got a snitch,” Gem says to me.

  “Snitches are bitches,” chimes in the voice from under the table.

  I roll my eyes, but both prez just laugh like it’s adorable. God, she must be an incredible lay, then. I’ll try not to hate her if she makes my too-serious brother smile. Gem needs more things to smile about in his life, and if this Kitty girl can bring him to his happy place, I’ll fucking love the hell out of her. But first thing’s first. “Snitch?” I ask.

  Solo moves in and puts an arm around my shoulders. “Keep your voice low,” he tells me, and nuzzles my ear.

  He’s clearly trying to make it seem like we’re a couple, but I get all dazed and weak in the knees at his touch.

  “Snitch,” Gem says, and I realize he’s been speaking in a low voice so it doesn’t carry past his table. “You didn’t tell anyone where you work, did you?”

  I shake my head. I don’t remember tons about that night, but I do know I gave my usual cover of being a schoolteacher. “Right,” Gem says. “So someone shared that you’d be at the gym, and that you’d be working alone.”

  I realize he’s right and I begin to tremble all over. Someone in the club hates me enough to sell me out to the Eighty-Eight? Jesus.

  “I got you,” Solo says against my ear, and he keeps me pulled against him, acting for all the world like a man nibbling on his old lady. “Ain’t nobody gonna hurt you while I’m breathing,” he tells me.

  And I do feel better. My hand slides to his waist and I press my face against his neck. Funny how I fit just right against Solo. I peek over at my brother to see if he’s noticing how cuddly we are, but he’s got his eyes closed again, concentrating on whatever Kitty’s magical mouth is doing under the table.

  After a moment, Gem speaks again. “Way I see things,” he says. “We tell everyone you’re all hot and bothered about a new man, and that he’s going to fight on Friday night. If this dickface wants you, he’ll try and make a move then.” Gem opens his eyes and looks over at me. One of his hands slides under the table, maybe to stroke Kitty’s hair.

  I lick my lips. There are a few holes in this plan. “Whoever’s pretending to be my new man is in for a fuckton of trouble.”

  “I can handle myself,” Solo says.

  Gem lifts his chin in a subtle nod, his only acknowledgment of Eric’s words.

  But this worries me. I like Solo. And I’m horribly, horribly unlucky. I dig my fingers into his leather cut and shake my head. “You should probably stay away from me.”

  “No,” Solo says at the same time Gem does.

  I look back and forth between the men, frowning. “How is this all already decided?”

  “Your brother and I talked last night,” Solo says.

  That must have been some talk. I shake my head again but Solo fists a hand in my hair and pulls my mouth toward his. “It’s done, Lucky.” And he kisses the hell out of me in front of my brother, which is both awkward and thrilling all at once.

  I pull away reluctantly once the kiss is done, a little dazed. My mouth feels swollen from his claim. “So what now?”

  “Now we wait for Friday night to roll around,” Solo tells me. “And you’re
not leaving my side until then.”

  I stare up at him, wondering what this means. Not leaving his side at all for the entire week? Does that mean we’re…sleeping together?

  “You gonna kill Grass?” Gem asks.

  “If I have to,” Solo says. “He ain’t gonna touch Lucky again.”

  And I’m chilled. This is all my fault. I’m the reason Jerome went to prison, and I think of Solo’s handsome face behind bars, and my heart crumbles into tiny little pieces. “Wait, no—”

  “This is club business,” Dom says. He’s usually the happy-go-lucky one, but his voice is serious, and I know what he says goes. “He fucked with club property, and now he’s about to realize what it means to mess with the Butchers.”

  Gem nods, and Solo leads me away.

  And I wonder if I’m the club property, or if Dom was referring to the gym.

  • • •

  I’m silent as we get back into Solo’s car and head to my apartment building so I can get a few changes of clothing. Solo doesn’t want me staying here this week, and so I guess I’m bunking down with him after all. I should be excited—an entire week of great sex!— but all I can think of is the upcoming ring battle that Gem and Dom are going to leak to our snitch. Solo’s in amazing shape and he’s a good fighter, but I don’t count on the Eighty-Eight to play fair.

  And I don’t want Solo going to prison just to protect me.

  I notice as we drive that two bikes are leisurely following us, a few cars behind. I recognize the bikes of Toxic and Blade, the Sergeant at Arms duo for the Butchers. They’re responsible for protecting club property from outside harm, and it looks like that’s me at the moment. They fall back as Solo pulls into the parking lot.

  “We have a tail?” I ask him, my voice dull.

  “Just playing it safe, Lucky,” he tells me, his voice smooth and unruffled. “Gem wants to make sure you’re not jumped by anyone.”

  I nod and get out of the car. My apartment is on the second floor and I head up the stairs, ignoring the tremble of my legs. I’m unhappy with the way things are going. Poor Solo got stuck with me all because he happened to be in the gym late last night instead of going on the panty raid. I feel so guilty.

  My apartment’s untouched, which is good. I head in and grab a bag and pack a bunch of clothing in there, along with some overnight stuff. I don’t say a word, though. My head’s full of miserable thoughts.

  “You okay?” Solo asks me. As I’ve been packing, he’s scoped out my apartment, making sure everything’s safe.

  I say nothing.

  “Now you going to ignore me, Penny?”

  I look up and glare at him, then toss a shirt into my bag. “I’m not ignoring you, Eric. I’m just upset.”

  He looks baffled. “Why are you upset?”

  “Because you’re stuck in this,” I tell him, shoving my favorite jeans into the bag next. “I’m shit luck, and I’ve rubbed off on you. You should have steered clear when you had the chance.”

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  I’m about ready to cry. I’m not kidding, actually. I like Solo, a lot. And bad things happen to those I like. I’m terrified of what’s going to go down this Friday night. What if the Eighty-Eight bring guns instead of boxing gloves and take him out? What if Solo murders him in the ring and there’s an undercover cop? The potential for Bad Shit is enormous, and I’m freaking out.

  He moves to my side and grabs my chin. “Look at me, Penny.”

  I do, and I’m surprised by the fierceness in his expression.

  “You think I’m doing this because I’m stuck?”

  “A little,” I admit.

  “You think I don’t want to touch you? That I don’t want to spend the next week fucking your pretty little brain out?” His thumb caresses my lower lip. “You think I don’t want to toss you down on this bed right now and throw your ankles behind your ears and make you scream my name?”

  I gasp. Liquid heat rushes through me at his words. Now he’s not the only one that wants that. I want it, too.

  His hand leaves my chin and slides down to the front of my shirt. I’m surprised when he grabs a handful of it and tugs it over my head, but I help him remove it. If this is leading to more sex, I’m all for that.

  “You think I haven’t been watching you every day for months?” Solo murmurs as he grabs my jeans and begins to unbuckle them. “You think I work out every day because I’m some sort of gym rat now that I’m back from the Middle East? You think I’m Solo because I miss Panther and not because I’ve had my eye on the prez’s sister all this time?”

  My jaw drops. “You have?”

  His mouth twists into a wry grimace. “Everyone knows that Lucky’s off limits. Gem doesn’t want anyone fucking with her. So I stay back and I wait for my chance.”

  I’m stunned by this revelation, and by the fierce kiss he plants on me next. Then his hand is shoving into my panties, and he’s rubbing his fingers against my clit in a rough, bold claim.

  “Thing is, Lucky,” he murmurs, rubbing this sexy, sinful sideburns against my face as he finger fucks me. My hand clasps his and my mouth is open in silent pleasure, because oh god, he feels good. “I’m tired of waiting,” Solo tells me. “And I’m claiming you as mine. So if you don’t want that, you’d better speak up now.” And one thick forefinger slides over my throbbing, sensitive clit.

  My knees buckle.

  “Tell me what you want,” he murmurs as he lays me down on my bed. “You want me to leave you alone? I will. I’ll keep you safe this week, but I won’t touch you.”

  “I want you to make me yours,” I tell him, and my hands go to his face and I kiss him. I kiss him over and over again, and my tongue moves against his, and I feel the groan he makes as he crawls over me.

  He unzips his pants and pulls a condom out of his wallet, tossing it down on the bed next to me. I eagerly shove my jeans and panties off my legs until I’m in nothing but my bra, and I watch him as he rolls the condom on.

  He’s so stinking beautiful. “I want to wrap my legs around you,” I tell him. Wrap them, and never let go.

  Solo’s eyes gleam as he looks at me, and he grabs my hips, dragging me to the edge of the bed. Then, he sinks in and I wrap my legs around him, just as I promised.

  I hope I never have to let go.

  Chapter Four

  The next week is possibly the best one of my life. I mean, sure, I’m on the run from the Eighty-Eight and forced to hide out. I’m disrupting Solo’s regular schedule, and I can’t go in to work so someone has to bring me the books. And, okay, Solo’s a shitty cook and also leaves the towels on the floor.

  But I’m still having a blast.

  I really like living with him. His cute little house needs plenty of stuff done to it, so I’m happy to help out if it means I’m less of a mooch. I take over the cooking duties once Solo burns my breakfast, and we start to fall into an easy pattern. Sex in the morning. Breakfast. Shower and clean up. Work on the house a bit. Sex. Lunch. Work on the books. Sex. Dinner. Sex. Watch a movie together. End up having sex on the couch. Migrate to the bedroom. Sex. Sleep. Repeat.

  I know it won’t be like this constantly. Heck, I know it won’t be like this longer than Friday. I guess that’s why we’re determined to keep our hands, mouths, and other body parts on the other person constantly.

  Solo is all confidence about the fight on Friday. I watch him as he works out, and he tells me about the fight clubs they had while stationed in Afghanistan, the guys he’s beaten, the street brawls he’s gotten into. I don’t think it’s bragging as much as he’s trying to convince me that everything will be fine. But when it’s late at night and we’re wrapped around each other, content, I worry.

  God, do I worry. I worry that my bad luck’s going to catch up with me again.

  Because I want more than just a few stolen days with Solo. I want to wake up with him, well, forever. Which might be silly and clingy and shit, but I don’t care. When we go to bed at night,
he holds me so tight that I’m almost convinced that he’s thinking the same thing I am.

  I guess we’ll find out Friday night.

  • • •

  As I fix my hair in the mirror in Solo’s tiny bathroom, he frowns at my reflection.

  “What?” I snap. He’s been eyeing my ass—and scowling—for the past fifteen minutes. It’s starting to bug me. It’s definitely making me edgy and I’m antsy enough as it is.

  “You think your shorts are tight enough?” He scowls down at my ass.

  “Seriously, Eric? I thought the point was to drive the Eighty-Eight nuts tonight. You think I’m going to do that in flannel pajamas?”

  His mouth twitches, and I can tell he’s trying to hide a grin. “You’d drive me nuts in flannel pajamas.”

  And then I can’t help but smile. “And that’s why I like sleeping with you.”

  “I just don’t like the idea of all those assholes getting a good look at your sweet ass when you know it belongs to me,” he says, and he comes up behind me and cups my butt like he owns it. “Half your ass cheek’s practically hanging out the back here,” he growls.

  I ignore his manhandling and go back to curling the ends of my long brown hair. Truth is, my shorts are pretty damn skimpy. They lace up the front and have a low back and barely cover anything. I’m wearing them so I can seem like a slutty ho in front of any Eighty-Eight that show up, but making Solo all growly and possessive is a nice side-effect.

  I’ve paired the top with a tight tank and a lacy red bra that peeks through in several spots, the straps visible at all times. And a pair of tall fuck-me boots, because they just make me feel sexy. I’m going all out with the hair and makeup, too. I’ve never looked so hot.

  Kinda sad that I’m doing all this to bait some Eighty-Eights, but when I see the appreciative look in Solo’s eyes, I have to admit to myself that it’s not just for them.

  “Guess we should go soon,” Solo says, leaning against the door. “You get any hotter, this place is going to combust.”

  I grin at him, put down the curling iron, and give my lips one last touch of flavored gloss. “I’m ready.”