Dangerous Surrender

by Tory Richards

  I grinned to myself, wondering what her reaction would have been if I had let her find out.

  "Another whiskey, hun?"

  My gaze rose slowly to Nell, a stripper when the place had first opened up, and now a waitress. She'd been here for as long as I could remember, and looked damned good for an older woman. "Bring me the fucking bottle," I growled, giving her a wink.

  "Chasing demons tonight?" she asked with a knowing smile.

  "Something like that." She knew me well enough to know the tone of my voice ended further inquiries from her. That's what I liked about this place. The girls knew when to shut up, and put out. They were good girls, and weren't forced to do anything they didn't want. Nell turned and left without a word. My gaze followed her to the bar, where three bartenders worked steadily at keeping the drinks going out.

  I had to admit that The Red Rooster had turned into a profitable venture for the MC. It had been a good purchase twelve years ago, when I was first voted in as president of Brothers of Chaos. The adult store next door was about to become our next major purchase, which is why we were in town. Monday we signed the papers, and took ownership. I was glad my decision to put down roots in the small, backwoods southern town had worked out for the club. It allowed the brothers who'd wanted to settle down with a woman, and have a family, a better way of life.

  "Hey, prez," I looked in the direction of the pool table where Big John, Sweet Lips and Fish were playing. A couple of the old ladies were hanging around them, watching and drinking beer. "Game?"

  I saw Nell walking back with my bottle. "Later."

  She set it down in front of me, and nodded toward the pool table. "Maybe it's time you get what those boys have."

  I pretended not to understand her. "What?"

  "An old lady."

  "Never gonna happen."

  She shrugged. "Bonnie's in the back but she's with a customer right now. Want—"

  I shook my head. "Not this time, Nell." The last thing I wanted was going behind another man. On the occasions I knew I was coming to town for a fuck I'd call ahead to make sure Bonnie kept herself free for that night. Course, she could always give me a blow-job later. My mind immediately went back to the woman with the sweet ass, and mesmerizing eyes. She'd had long blonde hair, thick hair.

  Fuck hair.

  The kind of hair good for pulling during fucking, or fisting to control her movements when she was going down on me. Shit. If I kept this up I'd be inviting myself to her room when I went back to the hotel. I reached for the bottle, filled my glass, and was about to take a drink when over the rim of my glass I saw the very woman that was keeping me hard, walk through the door.

  She had no inkling that the eyes of every fucking man were zeroing in on her right then, thinking the same damn thoughts that I was thinking, what it would be like to tap that fine ass. I took a drink, my gaze following her as she went straight to the bar. I could tell she had no clue that she'd walked into a biker's bar, and what that meant, no clue that to every unattached man in there she was prime real estate they'd all want a piece of. She'd breezed in wearing her body hugging jeans, and clinging tee-shirt, like she was shopping at the fucking mall.

  I shook my head at her lack of common sense. Well, I'd warned her. It was on her if she found herself in trouble. I looked around the bar to see who was there. The place was packed. I imagined the back, where special services were rendered, would be, too. Brothers of Chaos weren't the only bikers there. I saw cuts from Wild Cards, an MC we were in alliance with. Every table was full, and so was the bar. The girls were dancing on their respective platforms, just out of reach of roaming hands, while two huge muscled bouncers stood watch for any kind of trouble.

  Most everyone's faces I recognized because they were locals. Four Corners wasn't all that big a town. The six-man police station made it a hell of a lot easier to manage when it came to explanations. Both reasons Brothers of Chaos had made it our home. Everyone in there knew not to mess with us, especially in our business.

  The lady made it to the bar, so far so good, other than horny looks no one was approaching her. She'd worked her way between two bar stools where oddly enough both occupants were swiveled in the opposite direction, giving her the extra room to squeeze in between their backsides. I watched one of the bartenders, Rod, lean over the bar and turn his ear toward her as she spoke, while writing something down on a tab. I smiled when I noticed her lifting on her toes to get closer to him.

  Jesus, my hands itched to get a hold of her ass. I tossed back another shot of whiskey. Guess I was going to have to visit Bonnie for that blow-job after all, because my dick was pressing against my zipper. It ached so bad that I gave a mild thought to unzipping my pants to relieve the pressure, and calling Fawn, one of the dancers over to blow me now. Where I was sitting, it would be hard for anyone to see what she was doing. Several brothers were already doing what I was only thinking about. Lucky motherfuckers!

  I reached down and gave my cock a good rub through my jeans, watching as she began to move to the beat of the music slamming through the room. Whether it was an unconscious move on her part I didn't know, but every man including me had their eyes glued to her as she shook that ass. I figured she must have ordered something to eat because why else was she still standing there? The man on her right finally swung around on his stool, and I saw his face light up with a look that said today was his lucky day.

  I knew that look, and I knew it was just a matter of time before he made his move.

  Gwen

  As soon as I opened the entrance door to The Red Rooster I knew that I'd made a mistake. I should have listened to what the biker had said about it not being my kind of bar. I should have let the fact that the parking lot was full of motorcycles and trucks persuade me into turning back around and returning to my room. But I was there now, pretending the place wasn't packed with the obvious Saturday night crowd of loud bikers and locals looking for a good time, and probably trouble.

  Music was blaring throughout the room. The atmosphere was dark and smoky. Bikers were everywhere, easy to identify, and making me think about the hunk back at the hotel. There were several nearly naked girls pole dancing on circular display stages with bright lights shining down on them. Booths lined the walls while tables filled the inner space. There was a small dance floor, several pool tables, and a long bar ran along the length of the back wall. A mirror with shelves the same length was on the wall behind it.

  The longest walk of my life had been from the door to the bar, positive that I wouldn't make it without being accosted. Once I was there I managed to squeeze in between two guys, and put in an order for a sandwich. There were three bartenders, and they were hopping around trying to keep orders filled. The shelves behind them were filled with bottle after bottle of alcohol. When my gaze landed on the bourbon selection and a bottle of Evan Williams, Greg's favorite, I was quickly reminded of my situation.

  Greg wouldn’t look for me here, and it dawned on me that changing my expensive lifestyle might very well be the thing that would save me. He was just arrogant enough to think that the life he'd provided for me had spoiled me for anything else. The designer clothes, the jewelry, the corporate parties. Little did Greg know that I'd never really wanted any of that. I'd fallen in love with an ambitious college kid paying his own way through law school, eating and living cheaply to do it. That man had turned into a ruthless, controlling stranger, letting his status and easy wealth go to his head.

  The bartender who'd taken my order came over and said, "Your sandwich will be out any moment. If you'd like to pay for it now, that will be eight-fifty-eight."

  "That's okay. I'm enjoying the music." I dug into my pocket for the ten I'd slipped in there before leaving my hotel room.

  "So I noticed," he said, smiling. "Just passing through?"

  I shook my head and handed him the ten. "Not sure yet." I returned his friendly smile.

  "We'll, if you decide to make Four Corners your home, we have an opening h
ere. You'd make a nice addition to the girls and the pay is good."

  He turned away to get my change. I didn't know how to take what he'd said, but I had a feeling that he'd meant it as a compliment. He returned, dropped the change into my palm, and I slipped it into my jeans pocket without checking to make sure it was correct.

  "Name's Rod. If you should come back to inquire about the job, just give whoever you talk to my name."

  Before I knew it I found myself shaking his hand. "My name's Gwen, and thanks for the job offer. If I decide to stay I'll keep it in mind." A customer snagged his attention and he was off again.

  Nice man. I really needed to think about what I wanted to do. When I'd left Florida the day before my intentions were to drive as far as I could before stopping for the first time. I liked the idea of a small town, recalling the population marker I'd seen when getting off the interstate. Should I add one more to twelve hundred and thirteen, or did I want to get lost in a huge city like Las Vegas?

  "Well, hello beautiful." The man on the stool to my right swung around to face me. The look on his face was surprise, and something else, like he'd just won the lottery or something. I could smell the beer on his breath. "Where did you come from, honey?" He started to slip off his stool and I instinctively backed up. He noticed, and quickly grabbed my arm. "No, no, don't go away. Here, take my seat."

  "No that's okay. I'm just waiting for my order." I pulled my arm but he tightened his grip.

  "I insist," he said, yanking me against him.

  I turned my face away from his breath. "Please don't." He started to pick me up and I slapped him without thinking. “I said don’t!” My jaw dropped with disbelief at what I'd done. His face turned beet red, and I stood like a freakin' statue as he raised his hand in retaliation. Ohmygod, he was going to hit me back! Greg had hit me before but this man was built like a bear, and I knew it was going to hurt like hell.

  I watched his hand slowly descend but before it reached my cheek another hand shot out, out of nowhere, clamped around the drunk’s thick wrist, and stopped his arm in mid air. Heat radiated off a presence behind me and I slowly turned, catching my breath. My eyes locked onto the narrowed, fear-provoking gaze of my savior, the hunky biker. His warm, whiskey laced breath bathed my forehead, and my gaze fell to his mouth, which was way too close. For a crazy second I wondered what kissing those sensuous lips would taste like.

  Realizing I was staring I glanced up at him.

  "Run little girl, things are about to get ugly."

  I shook my head. "I don't want to cause any trouble."

  "Then you should have listened to my warning.” His tone said he was annoyed that I hadn’t. “Now get the fuck out of here."

  I opened my mouth to speak but his expression darkened even more. I shivered from the intensity, realizing that his anger was directed at me as much as the drunk. I didn't know this man, and it occurred to me that I didn't want to. He might be hot as hell, but danger dripped from his pores.

  I don't know why I listened to him, but suddenly my arm was released, and I was heading toward the door. On my way there I dodged other bikers who were quickly heading toward the bar. I heard a loud commotion start but didn't turn around. Once I hit the door and was outside, I took a deep breath, not realizing until then that I was holding my breath.

  Fuck! My heart was racing a mile a minute. That was…intense, and had happened so fast. I can't recall ever striking anyone before. My reaction to the biker's command pissed me off because Greg had always told me what to do. I didn't need some stranger taking his place, even if it was my fault for jumping when he said jump. If I was going to make it on my own then I needed to exert myself.

  I checked for traffic before crossing the road to the hotel. I made it all the way to my door before remembering that I'd forgotten my damn sandwich. Crap! Well, I wasn't going back. The cheese and crackers I’d picked up at a convenience store earlier would have to do until morning. I unlocked my door, and headed straight to the bathroom, thinking about a nice long soak in the tub.

  Chapter 3

  Gwen

  I ended up taking a shower because the tub looked too old and dingy. Just as I left the bathroom in my robe, and a towel wrapped around my head, there was a knock on the door. I paused with surprise, and a little fear for a second, wondering who it could be. Greg was my first thought. Then realizing I was just being paranoid, I went to the window, and pulled back the curtain. Oh my! It was my hunky biker. At the rate we kept meeting I should ask him his name.

  He must have seen the movement of the curtain, and glanced my way. Before I could duck back he held up a bag, and I knew he'd brought my sandwich. I smiled, thinking how nice of him and let the curtains fall back into place. I didn't give a second thought to opening my door to him. He wordlessly handed the bag over.

  "You didn't have to do that," I said, taking the bag from him with a smile. "But now I won't have to eat cheese and crackers for dinner, thank you."

  The way his gaze moved over me made me think of a predator for some reason. He looked hungry, his interest lingering on where my robe was parted at my throat. I saw his nostrils flare, and a tiny explosion of excitement went off in my belly because I knew that he was taking in my scent. I had the uncharacteristic urge to ask him if he liked the smell of the body spray I'd used after my shower. It was a fruity floral scent that smelled heavenly.

  "No problem." His expression never changed.

  "You, ah, didn't kill that man did you?" I teased. It would be nice to see him smile. I had a feeling it would be breathtaking.

  He shook his head. "No. But he'll be keeping his fucking hands to himself from now on."

  No smile, but a glimmer of amusement shown in his eyes. "I shouldn’t have slapped him. I've never done anything like that before."

  "You were scared, and I didn’t want to see another bruise on your pretty face." I felt a heated blush come over me. "So tell me, who the fuck are you running from?"

  That caught me off guard, and I felt the smile melt off my face. I had to remind myself that he was just guessing. "What do you mean?"

  "Baby," He slapped his hands against the frame on either side of the doorway, and leaned in closer. "A lady like you is never alone. In spite of your car, your clothes scream money." I gasped when he reached forward and tapped my earlobe. "Those big ass diamonds are real, and that scent you're wearing isn't from a discount store."

  My jaw dropped before I could recover my composure. "That doesn't mean anything."

  He stared at me a long time, as if trying to make up his mind about something, finally saying, "Right." He turned to leave.

  "What's your name?" He halted and looked back. I shrugged. "So I can stop calling you biker man in my mind."

  "Bowie, yours?"

  I smiled. "Gwendolyn but everyone calls me Gwen." Not sure why I suddenly felt shy. Maybe it had something to do with the lust simmering beneath the surface that I felt for this man. That and the worry that he could tell how I felt. "Well, nice meeting you, Bowie." He lifted his chin in acknowledgement and then continued on his way.

  I ducked back into my room for the ice bucket, thinking about the bottle of wine I wanted to chill. Tossing the bag with my sandwich onto the bed, I ripped the towel off my head and fluffed my damp hair, then slipped my feet into slippers. I recall seeing a sign on my way past where the vending and ice machines were located. Slipping my room key into the pocket of my robe, I headed out.

  It was quiet in spite of the row of motorcycles parked on the other side of my car. That told me the bikers were probably still across the street. So I was basically alone in the hotel. A creepy place since the damn place wasn't lit up. Even the glow from the lights on the street didn’t help. I rounded the corner where the thruway was and stopped. Fuck, it was really dark in there. How bad did I want ice? I stood undecided for a minute, narrowing my eyes into the solid, unknown darkness, before turning around with a sigh. I could always go out and get ice, and some other things in th
e morning.

  Back in my room I checked the time, deciding to just eat my sandwich and go to bed. But when I crawled between the sheets shutting down my brain was easier said than done. When I closed my eyes, my thoughts turned to Bowie. I couldn't help wonder what fucking would be like with a man like him, a dangerous, take charge alpha male that didn't take shit from anyone. I bet he never got the word no from a woman.

  I wanted to be that woman.

  I was definitely attracted to him, and I sensed that he was attracted to me. Something in his eyes, the way he looked at me. I'd never seen a man look at me with such intensity before. As if he was barely in control. It was different, thrilling, a little frightening, and I wondered what it would take to break him. Did I want to break him? The thought of his rough hands on me, and his mouth, while he sank his cock into my body, caused moisture to leave my body. I knew because I could feel my panties getting wet. I imagined a big man like Bowie had a big cock.

  It was clear that I was horny.

  For the first time in a long time I actually wanted sex. A one-night stand with a biker who would probably blow my world. When's the last time I had an orgasm? The last couple of years, sex with Greg had been lacking. He always got off, but he was too busy to see to my needs, saying that I took too long. I didn't know there was a time limit on reaching an orgasm.

  I moaned, surprised when I realized that I’d snuck my hand down inside my panties. My fingers were moving lightly over the hair covering my mound. When I slipped them inside I wasn’t surprised to find that my labia, was saturated. Further inside my pussy revealed that I was slick and wet. My clit was swollen, and actually buzzing. Touching myself felt good, but it wasn't what I really wanted.

  I wanted Bowie.

  As the deep tranquil numbness of sleep gradually claimed me I turned onto my side, and hugged a pillow.