Smolder: Trojans MC

by Kara Parker

  So Shayla had made some coffee, cut up some strawberries, and curled up on her couch with her newspaper. Normally, there wasn’t much to read about in the Templeton Gazette. Especially on a Saturday. More often than not, stories even more idiotic than her biker/kitten story would earn the first page spot. That meant that the rest of the newspaper was essentially drivel.

  That being said, Shayla appreciated that not a lot happened in her town. The crime rate was low, despite the presence of no less than two biker gangs, and the populace was generally cheery. She’d take that over constant drama any day, even if it did mean her job wasn’t as relevant as it would have been in other cities.

  Today, though, the Templeton Gazette’s front page story was actually news. Tragic news. It was the story of a teenage girl in a coma because of some bad ecstasy. Pills which her best friend claimed had been all but shoved down her throat by a member of one of the motorcycle clubs.

  Shayla’s heart thumped in her chest. Could it have been a member of the Trojans? She didn’t see that as something that Luke would allow, and yet here it was on the front paper. And isn’t that what kind of shit biker gangs were notorious for?

  God, what kind of fool had Shayla been to get involved with a motorcycle club president? Well, she hadn’t really gotten involved. That was a small blessing, apparently. Should she still call to apologize? Or should she just never speak of or to him again?

  She already knew she was going to call. She wouldn’t be able to relax until she knew whether the guy she’d nearly slept with had been in some way responsible for this. And if he was? Well, she would deal with that later.

  Shayla looked at the clock. It was still probably too early to call him, but now she was pissed. So she picked up her phone and dialed the number from the scrap of paper on her fridge. Twice. Because her sausage fingers made it difficult the first time.

  He picked up on the third ring, and his gruff “Hello” caused heat to flame in Shayla’s core despite the seriousness of the call.

  “Luke. It’s Shayla.”

  “I was wondering when you’d call.”

  She rolled her eyes. As if he’d known she was going to call. He was so full of it.

  “I read a really interesting story in the paper today,” she spat. “About a girl who could lose her goddamn life because of a bad pill she got from a member of a biker gang.”

  There was a pregnant pause, and Shayla couldn’t tell whether Luke was shocked or trying to figure out how to talk himself out of it.

  “I know.”

  That wasn’t the answer she’d been expecting. “You know?”

  “It wasn’t one of mine, which you’re clearly thinking. The girl’s friend came to us, and we’re finding out who it was and how deep the problem goes.”

  Shayla was shocked. That sounded so...noble. She had pegged Luke for many things, but noble hadn’t been high on the list. Not that it had been low on the list. It just hadn’t been on any list whatsoever.

  “How do I know you’re not lying just to pacify me?”

  “Why would I do that?” If she wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint or irritation in his voice.

  “I don’t know,” she replied. “Maybe so I don’t go spin the news against you or something.”

  Luke chuckled mirthlessly. “You wouldn’t do that, Shayla.” His use of her name sent tingles everywhere through her.

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I know that you’re a good reporter and you have ethics. You’ll do your research, and when you do, you’ll find out it wasn’t my gang. You’ll also find that there’s been a curious lack of drug pushing in half of the city for the past four years. And then I think you’ll apologize for making assumptions.”

  Shayla passed. He had a point. And he did sound like he was telling the truth, and that he was just as distressed as she was. Maybe even more.

  “Well then I guess I’ll just swallow my pride and lump that apology in with my other one,” Shayla said.

  “Two days later I’m getting an apology for you running out on me?” His laugh this time was full of amusement. “That’s some hell of a turnover time you’ve got there, little one.”

  Oh god, why did he send such tingles through her? Why couldn’t she just feel nothing when he spoke? It was clear that she hadn’t gotten over her infatuation, as she’d hoped she would. More importantly, it seemed to have gotten worse. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that. Just his voice was making her core throb.

  “I had an emergency.”

  “Did you now?”

  “Yes.”

  Shayla’s mouth was dry, and the hand holding the phone began to tremble.

  “You can come and apologize to me in person, little one.”

  Shayla knew exactly what that would entail. He might not expect her to sleep with him just to get his forgiveness. Apparently he was noble. But that would end up happening—it was absolutely certain. There was no way that Shayla could see him again and not jump his bones. She’d only been thinking about it nonstop for the past two days.

  But Shayla chickened out. Again. “I’m busy today.”

  “Bullshit, Shayla,” he said darkly. “You can’t lie to me, remember?”

  Oh god, she remembered. How could he pack every word with such lust and heat? It had to be some sort of impossible talent. Something that one in a million people possessed.

  “I could be busy,” she defended.

  Luke just laughed. “I have your number now. I'll text you my address. I’ll be home all day.”

  The line went dead before Shayla could say anything else, and moments later her phone buzzed. She was dismayed to see that he lived relatively close to her. She wouldn’t even be able to use the old “car’s in the shop” excuse.

  Her heart was racing as she stood from her couch and staggered toward her bedroom. What should she wear? Should she wait, or should she just go over right away and get it over with? She lifted her arm and took a whiff of her pits.

  She needed a shower first. Even if she was pretending she wasn’t going to fuck him rotten, she needed to be presentable. Just in case.

  Shayla stripped off and jumped in the shower, and she did the works. She washed her hair, moisturized, even shaved her legs the slow way that kept her from nicking herself a thousand times. Navigating out of her foggy bathroom afterward, Shayla tried not to dwell on the fact that she’d clearly already made up her mind about what she was going to do with Luke.

  If he’d have her.

  But who was she kidding? She could tell just from the tone of his voice that he was already thinking about her naked. And it thrilled her. It wasn’t a matter of passing the point of no return at his front door. She was already past that point. She had stepped over it without noticing, and now she couldn’t even see the damned thing.

  Shayla was in this. She was going to take a chance and possibly end up worse off for it, but she would take the chance all the same.

  She spent extra time and care blow drying her hair, wanting to look her best. She wanted to knock Luke off his feet when he saw her. She’d felt so sexy around him before. It made her want to primp for him even more.

  After blow-drying and straightening her hair, Shayla applied light makeup and admired herself in the mirror, blowing herself a little kiss like she was Marilyn goddamn Monroe or something.

  She felt giddy. Excited. Anxious, yes, but still generally in good spirits about what was to come. Her body as warm all over, as if it had been waiting for her to make this decision and was now rewarding her for it. Christ, she wanted him.

  Shayla opened up her lingerie drawer and picked out the red panties that she normally only wore on one of two occasions: when she was getting laid, or when it was laundry day. For the first time in months, it was a case of the former. She smiled and slipped them on, grabbing the matching bra from the drawer and putting that on too.

  Not wanting to look like she’d tried too hard, Shayla then put on a simple tank and a pair of skin
ny jeans. When he took her clothes off it would be like unwrapping a present. And she bet it would be better than anything he’d gotten for Christmas this year.

  Grabbing her keys from the counter, Shayla shoved her feet into the closest pair of ballet flats she could find. Luke wouldn’t be looking at her shoes, anyway. Men never did. Though he seemed to be a little more perceptive than most men, she still wasn’t going to hedge her bets on him even noticing she was wearing shoes.

  None of Shayla’s anxieties had disappeared, but they seemed to take a back burner to the desire pooling hot in her belly. She wanted what only Luke could give her, and she was willing to put her heart on the line to get it. This time.

  She just hoped it wouldn’t take that.

  Just before she stepped out the door, Shayla’s phone rang. When she saw the station’s number flash on her screen, she considered not picking it up. But Shayla was a slave to duty.

  “Hello?”

  “Have you seen this shit about the biker guy who drugged that teenager?” Amy’s shrill voice blared through her speaker. “We literally just did a piece on how bikers were sweet guys. Do you know how dumb this makes us look?”

  Why was she saying it like it was Shayla’s fault? She hadn't even wanted to do the goddamn cat story. She wanted to tell Amy that it wasn’t Luke’s guys who had done the deed, but that would only lead to more questions and possibly a demand for her to get the story from Luke so they could use it for ratings.

  “I saw it. There are more bikers out there than just that one guy. It’s not like it was him.”

  Why the hell was Amy even calling her in the first place? “Meg said you’re close with that Luke guy,” Amy said.

  Ah. That was why.

  “I want to get him in for an interview but he won’t answer my damned calls. Can you talk to him, win him around?”

  “I don’t even know how to get in contact with him,” Shayla lied, knowing that even if Meg had sold her out about spending time with Luke, she wouldn’t put herself in the line of fire for what she’d done to get his details.

  “I’ll send you his phone number.” She said it so matter-of-factly and with such exasperation that Shayla gritted her teeth.

  “What I mean is,” she bit out, “if he’s not answering your phone calls, he’s not going to answer mine. He clearly doesn’t want to talk to the press.”

  “Well I’ll get Mike to find out where he leaves. He’s good at that nerdy shit.”

  It made Shayla smile that she had this tiny bit of revenge over her producer. They would have to work to get a piece of information that Shayla already knew. That’s what they got for being such a jerk to her all the time.

  Anyway, it would all be for nothing. There was no way that Luke would ever agree to do an interview about his club. She knew that without even having to ask, just based on the fact that he engaged in illegal shit.

  First rule of motorcycle club: don’t talk to the press about motorcycle club.

  “I’m just about to get in the car. Anything else you want to run by me?” Shayla asked, conscious of how her wording flipped the power dynamic and probably had Amy fuming.

  “No. I’ll see you tonight.”

  “Have a good day,” Shayla sang.

  She hung up the phone and snickered. Nothing she had done in her job up until this point had ever felt so satisfying as that one phone call. It put a pink tinge on an otherwise convoluted day of lust and anger.

  It also saw her singing along happily to the radio all the way to Luke’s house. It wasn’t a long drive, but hell it was a happy one.

  Her cheery disposition ebbed away as she turned down his street. She passed the houses, reading out their numbers while a knot of something dark grew in her stomach. Was it fear? Was it anxiety? Was it just a cramp? Whatever it was, Shayla suspected that she just needed to see Luke and it would soon be over with.

  She stopped the car in front of a small house with white stucco exterior. Luke’s bike was parked outside, so even without the house number she would have found it. She parked just behind the Harley and stepped out, slamming the door behind her. She thought that maybe if she announced her presence in such a way, Luke would come out of the house and she wouldn’t have to deal with the gut-wrenching task that was knocking on a person’s front door. She had always hated that.

  Shayla would have made a horrible door to door salesmen.

  There was no movement in the house as she approached the front door. Shayla wasn't sure whether to take that as a good sign or not. It probably wasn’t a good or bad sign, but her brain was already whirring at her approach, racing from thought to thought in an attempt to burn off some of her excess adrenaline.

  She knocked and waited, shifting her weight from the front of her feet to the back, then back again. He didn’t leave her waiting for long. She was grateful for that.

  Luke answered the door looking like a rock and roll god. His black t-shirt hugged his muscular frame, which Shayla instantly zeroed in on. She had to drag her eyes to his face, which featured a smug grin the likes of which she’d never seen.

  He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “You made it,” he said. “I thought you might pussy out again.”

  Heat rose in Shayla’s cheeks. “Yeah. I deserved that.”

  “You look good.”

  His comment threw her. She did look good. She knew that. But the fact that he was commenting on it was so unexpected. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but there was her mind again—whirring away.

  “Thanks.”

  “So?”

  “So?”

  “Let’s hear this apology. It better be good.”

  “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”

  He looked her up and down. “If I let you through this door, there won’t be much apologizing going on.” He chuckled. “Apology first. Then I let you in.”

  Oh god. The heat from her cheeks spread straight down to her core. Why did everything he said have to get her so hot?

  “I’m sorry for running out on you unexpectedly,” she said, trying to hold his gaze. “There was an emergency that I had to deal with.”

  “Lie.”

  “There was!”

  “I can see it all over your face little one.” He cocked his head to the side. “What did I say about not lying to me?”

  Shayla bit her lip and screwed up her face. “Fuck.”

  “Fuck is right. Tell me why you left.”

  She looked down at her feet and ground her toes into the cement.

  “Look at me,” he commanded.

  Shayla looked up. “Because I like you, okay? I wasn’t sure I could deal with you tossing me aside after screwing me. I thought it was easier just to eject myself from the situation.”

  He didn’t laugh in her face, to his credit. “You could have just told me that.”

  Shayla bit back a laugh of her own. “And I’m sure we’d have parted as friends and high fived on the way out of the bar,” she said snidely. “Besides, you’re intimidating as hell. And I wasn't sure I’d be able to keep my resolve if I saw your face or your—” She gestured to his body. “—other parts.”

  Luke smiled. “You’re so eloquent. You should be on TV.”

  “Hey!”

  He put up his hands to calm her. “Apology accepted.”

  “Really?” Shayla put a hand on her hip. “Just like that?”

  “What? You think my ego is so fragile that I can’t handle a girl running out on me every once and awhile?” He grinned. “I’m sure I can pleasantly surprise you in a lot of areas. There is something I’ll need you to do for me though.”

  Shayla batted her eyelashes at him. “What’s that?”

  He shook his head with a bemused smile. “Not that. Though you’re going to be doing that soon too. I need you to get your producer to stop fucking calling me.”

  Shayla licked her lips at his promise, but stopped when he mentioned Amy. She grimaced. “I’m afraid that’s a no can do. She’
s actually sending me after you now.”

  “Is that why you’re here?”

  He actually almost looked a little bit hurt by that. Or maybe she’d just imagined it.

  “No.” Shook her head. “Absolutely not. I told her I didn’t even know how to get a hold of you, and she’s currently getting our resident geek to track down your address.”

  Luke chuckled. “Well isn’t that a stitch.”

  “But you see how my hands are tied on this. You’re going to have to wait until I come after you for the story, then reject me. Then I can get her off your back.”