HANDS OFF MY WOMAN: Padre Knights MC

by Claire St. Rose

  I rolled my eyes, grinned, and tried to play it off. “Just some guy.”

  “Just some guy who beats the shit out of your pervy boss for you? Come on now, I wasn't born yesterday.”

  I sighed, knowing she was going to keep badgering me until I spilled it all – I just hoped I could leave some things out of the story and not have her notice my omissions.

  “Remember those obnoxious bikers who kept me up all night?” I asked.

  “Of course I do. Go on.” Michelle said, her eyes wide and eager.

  “Well, I might have gone out with their leader. Just once, though.”

  Her eyes were wide and there was a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “You did what? You went out with one of those guys? Seriously?”

  “Well – twice, if you count me meeting him for lunch earlier today. But that was only so I could tell him it wasn't going to work and that we'd never see each other again – ”

  “Wait, you went out with him once and then broke it off with him?”

  “There was nothing to break off, Michelle. We went out once and I stopped it before anything started?”

  “Why? Did he have bad breath or something? Smell like grease?”

  “He's a biker, Michelle,” I said, shaking my head. “He's into that whole scene – drugs, crime, who knows what the hell else those animals do.”

  “I'm sure we could find out more from Google...”

  “No,” I said, laughing as I closed her laptop screen. “No, just – no, okay? I can't see him again. I'm never going to see him again. It's too dangerous.”

  “Too dangerous?” she arched her eyebrow at me. “Too dangerous because you're afraid he might break your heart?”

  Maybe? Not that I'd ever admit it or say it out loud, but I could totally see myself falling for King. But I knew, despite what he'd said, he wasn't the type to settle down and stay with one woman. He was a biker. He lived that outlaw lifestyle. King was the type of guy who was going to sleep around, drink a lot, break the law. And none of that was what I wanted out of my life or what I wanted out of my partner in this life. But Michelle was giving me a look. The look, actually. It was a look I knew well and one that was the non-verbal and non-physical equivalent of her slapping me upside the head and asking “what in the hell is wrong with you?”

  “Well, there's that, I suppose,” I said, gritting my teeth, not meaning to have said that out loud, “And then there's the possibility of, you know, getting caught up in something illegal. And that's not really my thing, Michelle. I lead a quiet life and I like it that way. Getting arrested and locked up in prison doesn't sound like my idea of a good time.”

  “Please,” Michelle said, opening her laptop back up. “You watch too much TV. I'm sure there's nothing illegal going on there. He probably just rides a motorcycle and donates to charity like some of the other clubs.”

  “You've never met him,” I laughed. “I highly doubt he's donating to Toys for Tots or Habitat For Humanity, Michelle. He doesn't seem like that kind of guy to me.”

  “And how would you know unless you Google him, hmmm?”

  She had a point. Not that King seemed like the charitable, goody-two-shoes she was trying to paint him to be, but maybe things weren't as bad as they seem. Maybe he wasn't as bad as he seemed. But then I remembered that oh yeah, there were the drugs – the ones he slipped into my bag without telling me. Which seemed to be just the sort of thing a bad guy would do. I opened my mouth and started to tell Michelle all about that when she stopped me.

  “Said his name was King, right? Well, the only thing I'm finding here is some minor traffic violations, disturbances, and looks like a marijuana bust – ”

  “See?” I said, feeling deflated. “He's a criminal. A bad guy.”

  “Seriously, Abbie?” she raised her eyebrows at me. “It's just pot and in case you don't keep up with the news, it's now legal in many states.”

  I cringed and flashed her a grin. She had a point.

  “Do you like this guy?” she asked me.

  I shrugged. “I don't know.”

  “Well, at least you can say thank you. You should at least say thank you for what he did,” she said. “After all, he did get Jack to back off. That scumbag little weasel is probably never going to bother you again. Hell, he's probably never even going to look at you again. Forget him ever trying to put his hands on your ass. You at least owe this King for that – if not letting him take you out on a date.”

  I shook my head at her, but couldn't suppress the smile that crept across my face. “You're a bad influence, you know that?”

  “Eh, I dunno. I think you need somebody like me in your life to lead you down the dark and twisty paths in life. I think sometimes you think too much. You need to have some fun and loosen up, Abbie,” she said. “After all, life is about more than apartment associations and public relations.”

  She had a point. Again. I was starting to notice a pattern.

  I reached inside my purse for my phone, feeling the urge to find something to distract me temporarily. But as I stared down at it, I groaned. There would apparently be no distracting myself from King after all, because there was a message from him.

  I won't bother you ever again, but tell me if he ever touches you again and I'll handle it. You have my word.

  Truth be told, I'd rather King be the one touching me. But in the back of my mind, there was still that fear. My brain was telling me to step away, to keep my distance. But of course, my heart sided with Michelle and said to go for it.

  It was a conundrum and I had no idea how to solve it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  KING

  The next day, Sanderson and Mahoney – the two detectives who’d hassled us earlier – were waiting for me at the clubhouse when I got there. I got off my bike, took off my helmet, and tried to keep the irritated expression off my face.

  “Mornin’, officers,” I said, walking toward them. “Can I help you with something?”

  Neither one looked too pleased to see me, but then again, when did cops ever look happy to see men like myself. Rarely did we bring good news. The same could be said about cops, too, though. I was just trying to be pleasant and as cooperative as possible, hoping they wouldn't hook me up and cart me away today. The last thing I needed was a couple of cops taking me in again. That would only serve to give the Incas even more reason to be suspicious of us. And all I wanted to do was finish our deal, collect my money, and then ride off into the sunset.

  “Yeah, there is something you can help us with,” Mahoney said. “There's been a threat called into us. Thought you might know something about it?”

  “A threat?” I leaned against the building and slipped my hands into my pockets, trying to appear relaxed. Both of them looked tense, ready to blow and I knew something wasn't right. “What kind of threat are you talking about?”

  The two officers looked at one another before turning their eyes back to me. It was Mahoney who did the speaking for the dynamic duo.

  “Most of what we know is confidential, but we did get word that there's some trouble brewing between your guys and the Incas. Any truth to that?”

  I shrugged. “Not if I have my way, there isn't. But I don't know about anything the Incas are up to. Nor can I do anything to control what they do. Anything I should know or be concerned about?”

  “Our source said there is some serious shit going down,” Mahoney said. “So, cut the shit. What's going on, King?”

  I looked from Mahoney to Sanderson and then back again. “I'm giving it to you straight, guys,” I said. “I don't know anything about any trouble. We're not planning anything and, as far as I know, neither are they. We've never had a beef, so there's no reason for a fight between our clubs.”

  “Just be on the lookout for trouble, and let us know right away if there's a war coming,” Sanderson said. “Because trust us, you can't handle this alone.”

  Even if there is a war coming and I know about it, the last thing I am going to
do is enlist the help of the cops, I thought to myself. But I couldn't say that out loud. Getting them involved would only serve to cause more problems, put us in more danger. No, I had to handle this. And soon. Before something happened and whatever this trouble was, came bubbling to the surface. I had to protect my guys. I would protect my guys.

  “Will do, officers,” I said casually. I could tell neither one of them believed me. Smart men.

  “You know where to find us,” Mahoney said.

  I nodded as the two men walked back toward their police car.

  The Incas were no joke, but there was nothing the cops could do to help us. They'd been trying to fight the Incas and shut them down for years now and had absolutely no luck with it. Me helping them wouldn't change a damn thing. And it would only bring a ton of steaming hot shit down on this club. There was no way in hell I was going to start snitching and put the life of my men in even more danger just to help them shut the Incas down.

  Then again, it sounded like we could already be in trouble, whether I liked it or not. I should have listened to my gut and turned down the initial deal they'd offered. But it was far too late for buyer's remorse now. Now, I just needed to figure out how to get out of this mess without anyone I cared about getting hurt.

  I watched the cops drive off and then turned and walked toward the clubhouse when I heard a car pull into the parking lot behind me. Assuming it was the cops coming back again to try and pry a little more information out of me – or maybe just to pick me up and haul me in – I turned to tell them off, but my words stuck in my suddenly very dry throat.

  It wasn't a police car. It was Abbie's car. She shut off the engine, got out, smiled at me, and gave me a shy little wave. “Hi, King,” she said quietly as she walked over to me.

  “Is it that jackass? Is he bothering you again?” I asked.

  I felt my blood boil at the mere mention of the idea – as well as a primitive, savage excitement at the prospect of getting to beat him to a pulp – but she stopped me, shaking her head.

  “Oh no, nothing like that,” she said. “I just never got a chance to thank you.”

  I was caught off guard, but felt my heart skip a beat as I looked into her eyes. “You don't have to thank me, Abbie.”

  “I know,” she said with a sweet smile.

  Her hazel eyes reflected the sunlight, turning them a light shade of green with flecks of gold. So beautiful. Almost hypnotic. I had the fleeting notion that I could stare into those eyes all day and be perfectly happy.

  “But I wanted to anyway,” she continued. “I asked around and found out where the clubhouse was located. I decided to stop by and say thanks for putting Jack in his place for me. You really saved my butt.”

  “Anytime,” I said, choking on my own words as I stared down at her.

  Her brown hair fell over her shoulders and around her face in soft, beachy waves. Her skin, her hair, and everything else about her was just so perfect and pretty. She was like a flower – gentle and sweet. I groaned inwardly, wondering when in the hell I became a goddamn poet.

  Abbie wasn't the type of girl I usually went for. I liked women who had some substance to them and she almost looked fragile, almost breakable to me. She looked like someone I could hurt without meaning to. Though, as we found out that night in my bar, she could take whatever I gave her – and she liked it.

  I felt myself grow hard just remembering that night and breathing in her scent. I recalled the way she'd felt wrapped around my body, the way she'd tasted – everything about her was intoxicating and I felt my cock grow so stiff, it was uncomfortable and bordering on painful. I couldn't recall the last woman who'd had this effect on me, who'd had the power to cloud my mind, my judgment, and fill my head with nothing but thoughts about them. And that lack of focus on my part was dangerous. Especially considering everything going on at the moment. But what I wouldn't give to be inside of her one more time, I silently mused, to feel her warmth wrapped around my cock.

  “I was thinking about everything you said earlier today. And maybe I was being a little too hasty about not seeing you ever again, you know?”

  She looked up at me with those beautiful, intoxicating eyes, and for a moment, I convinced myself I was dreaming. I had to be. The cops that came here before her, that must have been a dream, too. I was half-convinced that nothing that had happened so far today had actually happened. I was half-convinced that none of this was real.

  But as I stared at her beautiful face and inhaled the dizzying scent of her perfume, I realized it was. It was all very, very real. Maybe this day wouldn't turn out to be such a goddamn shit show after all. Things – at least for the moment – seemed to be looking up. Way up.

  “Oh yeah?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I was thinking – if you aren't busy – maybe we could go out again?”

  I knew I should turn her down, tell her maybe this isn't a good idea – because with everything going down with the Incas right now, it really wasn't. But how could I say no to that face? To that smile? I felt lighter, happier, with her near me. Just being around her made me feel as if all my worries were washed away. Abbie was a welcome distraction, and there was no way I could reject her. Not after she'd gone to all the trouble of tracking me down and coming out here.

  “Sure, Abbie. Just tell me when…”

  “How about now?” she said, looking around. “Wanna get out of here for a bit? Go somewhere a little more private?”

  My erection was now pressing hard against my jeans. The idea of going somewhere more private with Abbie had me ready for anything and there was no way I could turn that down. There was no way in hell I would turn that down.

  “I'm game,” I said. “Let's go.”

  I took her hand in mine and led her toward my bike. Somewhere private. Just me and her. My brain went wild thinking of all the sexy possibilities that the day held in store for us. And honestly, I needed her right now. I needed her more than I needed anyone else in my life.

  The thing that scared me, though, was that I needed her – but in my thinking, it wasn't only just for the sex. The very idea of needing somebody mentally and emotionally, rather than just physically, scared the ever loving piss out of me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  ABBIE

  Michelle finally badgered and harangued me enough to convince – or at least, coerce me – into going and seeing King. And, well, as soon as I saw him standing there, I knew I'd made the right choice – badgered and harangued or not. His long, shaggy blonde hair was loose and flowed around his face. He managed a look that was so tough and yet so beautiful at the same time.

  Tattoos covered most of his arms, each one looking like a piece of art. His skin glistened with sweat as he stared back at me with blue eyes that were softer and sweeter than I ever could imagine from a rough and tumble guy like King. His facial hair was getting a bit out of control, though – but that scruffiness was downright sexy. Everything about him was just hot down to that toned and well-defined body that had driven me absolutely crazy at the bar.

  “Somewhere private.”

  That's all I asked of him – perhaps foolishly – and after he got me on to his bike, together we rode down the highway, my arms wrapped around that perfect body, holding onto him tightly. The roar and vibration of the bike's engine rustled things low in my body and ignited a fire inside of me that drove me crazy. Almost unconsciously, I tightened my grip around his waist as I stroked his chest with my hands, pressing my body up against his. I had no idea where we were going, but when we got there, I was afraid I wasn't going to be able to control myself.

  And then I realized I didn't care. There was a fire in me burning out of control and I found I didn't want to put it out. If anything, I wanted to stoke those flames, make them burn even higher and hotter. Nothing else mattered in that moment to me. I just wanted King. I needed him in ways I couldn't possibly explain, no matter how hard I tried.

  Michelle was right: I wa
s always too cautious, too guarded. I never let my hair down and simply enjoyed myself or some of the wonderful things life had to offer me – like King. What was the harm in a little fun? Why deny myself something that felt so good? Even if it meant I’d wind up hurt later, I should, at the very least, enjoy the ride, savor it, and take advantage of everything this man had to offer me. Even if it were just a temporary thing. I could use him every bit as much as he used me.

  We pulled up beside an old cemetery that looked as if no one had taken care of the place in years. The tombstones were worn down from wind and rain, the grass was wildly overgrown. But there were flowers were placed on the plots as if someone – somewhere – still felt it is was worth it to visit these long-buried graves and honor the dead buried there. It was sort of sad, but in a way, it was still very beautiful.