Time Owed

by Debra Kayn

He shook his head. "No."

  "What do you mean no? You ordered me to tell you thank you. I did."

  "I changed my mind." He stepped off his motorcycle and stood in front of her. "I don't think you meant shit when you said it. I want something else from you. That way when you understand when I do something special for you, you're supposed to be thankful."

  She rocked back on her heels. "Like what?"

  "This." He hooked his hand behind her neck, lifting her head toward him as he lowered his. His fingers threaded her hair, holding her in place. Her eyelids fought to close, and she stared wide eyed up at him afraid to miss his next move.

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmured.

  Then, he kissed her.

  No, he kissed her.

  Merk wasn’t the first man to kiss her, but there were no words to describe what he was doing to her. It was thorough, deep, and hypnotic. Soul shattering.

  Her head buzzed and her vision blurred.

  She expected soft, and he gave her hard and open and demanding. She had no choice but to give him back what he was doing to her. Her tongue tangled with his. Her lips slipped into the perfect mold, softness surrounded with roughness from his whiskers. He held her still, seeming to want her to accept it all and challenging her to stop him.

  He made it impossible to pull away. She wanted to capture the turmoil battering her stomach, making her feel as if she'd done something...wonderful.

  Nothing compared to his kiss. Nothing. Not her need to be right. Not his pushy ways. Not the rules she lived by or the fact she'd kissed a felon.

  When he lifted his head a fraction of an inch, he placed his forehead against hers. She breathed deep, feeling the tingles on her sensitized lips after the kiss, and wondered if he felt the same excitement or if he thought of her as tonight's cheap and easy entertainment.

  Finally, he spoke. “You're welcome, Desi."

  She nodded, unable to do anything else.

  Her stomach curled and yet, her legs weighted her down, she pushed herself to turn and walked toward the backdoor of the bar. What had she done?

  He was a felon. His status as a Moroad MC member exceeded anything good about him. The last thing she needed to do was hang around someone dangerous enough to kill her if she pissed him off.

  She keyed the lock and grabbed the door handle. The door swung out of her grasp. She jerked around, but Merk escorted her inside, her feet moving backward, losing traction.

  Panicked, she planted her hand on his chest, stopping him from gaining entrance to the steps leading up to her living quarters six feet away. "What are you doing?"

  "I need to talk to Joe." He gazed behind her.

  "He's probably sleeping. It's after two in the morning. The bars closed. Come back tomorrow when we open," she said.

  "He's expecting me. Do me a favor, and tell him I'll be out back." Merk fingered a strand of her hair when she refused to move. "Now, Desi."

  She jumped and hurried up the stairs. Her heart raced and a fine film of perspiration broke out on her neck. Why had his order seemed like life or death?

  She hurried to Pop's door and knocked softly, letting herself in.

  Pop sat in his recliner, his mouth open, snoring softly. Not wanting to scare him, she tiptoed across the creaky hardwood floor and rubbed his arm.

  He startled awake anyway. "Desiree?"

  "Sorry, Pop. Merk from Moroad Motorcycle Club is out back and said you wanted to talk with him." She blew the hair out of her eyes. "I'll tell him you're in for the night."

  His rough, large hand grabbed her wrist with surprising strength. "No, I'll go down."

  "Are you sure?" She tilted her head, studying him. "You're beat, and I don't trust him. There's something...I don't know, weird about him."

  "I'm fine. Old people don't need sleep. We need naps. And, don't judge a man by what he wears." Pop pushed himself out of the chair and groaned.

  She blew out her breath. "It doesn't matter what he wears. He's a felon. All the Moroad members are criminals. We don't need his kind hanging around here. We've had enough trouble at the bar in my lifetime and don't need any more."

  Pop stopped in front of her. "Sweetheart, your dad was trouble. What happened...well, it was going to happen that night or another night. I only wish I could go back and make sure you weren't there. I should've protected you better."

  She clamped her teeth together. Pop would never understand what she'd gone through and how she'd survived. The night her dad was murdered could've turned out much worse. She thrived despite the odds.

  "You're the best, Pop. You've always taken care of me, even though I'm stubborn...like you." She grinned, not wanting him to worry.

  Pop's seventy-eight years of hard living were catching up with him. He'd raised his daughter, and raised his granddaughter. His life wasn't easy and he continued to play an important part in running the bar despite his bad heart. He rebelled and continued smoking his stupid cigars and eating food that would clog his arteries. Too proud and stubborn to change, Pop continued to live the life he wanted.

  "Go ahead and go to bed. I'll lock up," Pop said.

  She stood on her toes and kissed his whiskered cheek. "Love you, Pop."

  "Love you, too. Now go get your rest. You've got early shift tomorrow." Pop walked to the door.

  She followed Pop's slow pace, wondering if he was fully awake. He seemed unsteady and slow. Working eight hours on his feet took its toll on him, and she'd need to try again to talk him into slowing down.

  In the hall, she walked to her apartment and stepped inside. Curious to know what Pop wanted with Merk, she went to the window and peered down. The streetlight lit the area enough she had no trouble spotting Merk sitting on his Harley. She sagged against the windowpane.

  Despite being friends with Katie, she had no desire to be one of the women who hung around the bikers. She had no time to join female cliques or be cheap entertainment for men who had no desire for anything but sex and a good time. She loved Katie and knew her friend had her own reasons for staying involved with Moroad MC, but never again would she let Katie talk her into staying at a biker party. She sighed loudly. She'd never become someone who felt better about herself because a man gave her a little bit of attention.

  Fingering her lips, she couldn't get the taste of Merk out of her mouth or forget the way he'd consumed her. She turned away from the window, dropping her hand to her side. Nothing good could come from Merk talking to Pop or hanging around her.

  Chapter Five

  Two nights ago, Merk picked up the keys to the backdoor of Rail Point Bar and accepted Joe's job offer.

  Tonight, Joe apparently needed to talk.

  Desi's grandfather leaned against the brick wall. Merk studied the way Joe shifted his extra weight, relying on the building to keep him balanced. Every few sentences, Joe stopped to take a deep breath.

  The lit cigar between Joe's lips glowed in the night. "Has everything gone okay on your shifts?"

  Merk eased back, until he stood beside his motorcycle at the curb. Two days of work, of doing nothing but watching Desi, wasn't a hardship. "Yeah."

  Joe grunted in acknowledgement. Merk gazed up at the second story of the building. He'd understood the look Desi shot him when he and Joe stepped outside. Not knowing what kind of business Joe hired him to do bothered her. He understood Joe's desire to protect his granddaughter, but eventually Joe would need to let Desi know he'd hired Merk because he had concerns about trouble arriving at the bar.

  As of yet, Joe hadn't informed him of why he believed added security was needed. He'd wait, even though he preferred to know what kind of trouble he'd face.

  "Was there something you needed to tell me?" Merk asked.

  Joe raised his chin. "Nah, the customers are plenty and its tourist season. I have nothing to complain about."

  "Right." Merk gazed up at the stars.

  Joe lived a simple life around his gambling habits. If a man had money to blow, nobody had the right to t
ell him how to spend his hard-earned cash. He couldn't even fault Desi for picking up pool games here and there. He'd enjoyed watching her play. She knew her game. As far as crimes, he suspected neither one of them made enough money illegally to even raise the attention of the sheriff. However, he'd learned most people kept secrets. In time, Merk would figure out Joe's motive.

  "You've been in prison and paid for your crime." Joe lipped his cigar.

  Merk almost laughed. He wasn't one to pussyfoot around the obvious and it'd taken Joe long enough to bring up the past. The old man was smart. The second Merk mentioned his name, Joe made the connection between Merk and James Tarmerk, the man who'd killed Joe's son in law thirteen years ago.

  Merk nodded. "Every single time."

  "I always believed in giving a man a second chance." Joe lit a match and set it to the stub of his cigar. "Desiree doesn't know who you are, and I'd prefer to keep it that way. She was only a little girl and I kept her away from the news. She's gone through enough hell over that night. There's no reason to drag her through everything again."

  Merk's body tightened and he weighed his reply before he spoke. Joe wasn't downstairs the night Merk killed his son in law. The only one who knew what happened had no clue he'd returned.

  "There's no reason for her to know. It's in the past." Merk relaxed his shoulders, even though the rest of his body remained tight. There was always the chance Joe hired him to pay him back for killing his son in law. If that were the case, Joe would regret his decision.

  Joe nodded, accepting his opinion. "Desiree went without a mom practically her whole life. I thought I was doing the right thing, teaching her to take care of herself while remaining the cushion between her and her dad. That might've worked if I had a grandson. It would've made him tough, strong. Looking back, I wish I would've brought her up differently and given her a chance to see the soft side of life."

  "I have a feeling your granddaughter wouldn't change how her life turned out," said Merk.

  "I'll probably never know. Life's getting short for me." Joe slapped Merk on the shoulder. "We better get inside before people start wondering what the hell you're doing out here listening to an old man spill his regrets."

  "I'll catch up with you. I'm going to take my break, have a smoke, and then I'll come in." Merk pulled out his cigarettes.

  Left alone, he leaned against the building. The bricks warmed his back. The job of hanging out in the bar, watching Desi, learning Joe's schedule, and recognizing the regulars versus the tourists kept his mind busy. He still struggled when his claustrophobia flared from too many years locked in prison and the extreme moods coming off the strangers surrounding him tired him out.

  He preferred solitude. Time away from everyone cleared his head and let him think. During the odd times he wanted company, he hung out with his MC brothers.

  Unlike the other Moroad men, he couldn't shut off his reactions to other people's emotions. The laughter, the conversations, the mannerisms gave away people's weaknesses. Joe, unable to hide his love for his granddaughter, put her at risk. Anyone looking to harm Joe would first hurt his granddaughter, because to most people family meant everything.

  Joe needed to play his cards closer to his chest or he'd lose. He blew out the smoke and let the nicotine calm him. While Desi overcompensated to hide her emotions, showing a strong self-esteem to everyone in her path, she handed over her vulnerability with her attitude.

  Pleasant and friendly around others, Desi only had to look at him and her demeanor changed. She hid her attraction behind anger. While he usually enjoyed women who willingly leaned toward him and handed their body over without putting up a fight, he took Desi's avoidance as a challenge. He squatted down against the wall, closed his eyes, and breathed deeply, forcing the tightness out of his chest. If only he could work past the stress of being around others, he'd enjoy his retribution more.

  "Hey," Desi's husky voice left his head and called to him.

  He opened his eyes. Desi stood in front of him with a brown paper sack clutched in her arms.

  "Are you okay?" she asked, walking several yards to throw away the trash in the dumpster.

  He stood. His whole body clenched in awareness at the exertion. He inhaled and caught the scent of strawberries. How had he missed her sweet scent before?

  "Merk?" She approached him and placed her free hand on his chest. "What are you doing outside?"

  "Hold still." He slid his hand through her hair and brought his head down to her level.

  "What are you doing?"

  He pressed his lips against her hair. "You smell good."

  "It's, um, the strawberries. I just finished cleaning the fruit for the mixed drinks, which I do when women visit the bar. They all order the fruity drinks," she said.

  He rubbed his nose against her hair. "Right."

  The tightness in his chest eased. He rubbed her head, holding her close, wanting the calm she brought with her.

  "Merk?"

  He raised his head, keeping ahold of her. "Yeah?"

  "What are you doing?"

  Her sultry voice rolled through him. He pulled her closer and kissed her forehead. "Nothing."

  "Then why are you touching me?"

  He rubbed his lips side to side against the soft skin of her forehead and sighed in pleasure. "Don't stop me."

  She sagged against him before catching herself and pushing against him. "God, will you knock it off?"

  He let her go and held up his arms. "Ever wonder if you decided to let go of your attitude toward me, you'd enjoy having me around?"

  "I don't know what you're playing, but I'm not one of the women who will fall into bed with you because you ride a motorcycle." She sidestepped him, heading for the building.

  The backdoor opened before Desi could escape and Lola came out with Jessie and Katie. Lola headed straight toward him, wrapped her arms around his waist, and pressed her massive breasts against him. He stared at Desi, reading the questions in her gaze over his relationship with the Moroad women. Whatever thoughts she had, she'd be wrong. Lola remained a friend, along with the other women who offered themselves to all the bikers.

  "Joe said you were out here and we wanted to say bye." Katie leaned in front of Lola and kissed Merk's cheek. "See you later."

  "Later," Merk mumbled, never taking his gaze off Desi.

  Jessie, the last woman to gain approval to hang around Moroad and more shy than the others, rubbed his arm as she slid her purse over her shoulder. "See ya later, baby."

  "Right," he muttered.

  Desi covered her shock, looked away from him, and turned to accept Katie's hug, whispering in her ear. Her obvious discomfort amused him. Out of her element around the pack of women who had no trouble showing their sexuality, Desi probably tried to convince Katie to explain the situation to her. He counted on the women's behavior piquing her curiosity. She'd soon learn that no one actually knew him.

  Katie could brag about how good he was with his mouth, his hands, his dick, and he wouldn't stop her. It'd do Desi good to think about what he could do for her.

  "We'll get together soon. I promise." Katie kissed Desi's cheek and hitched her thumb over her shoulder. "Don't let this guy distract you from working."

  Merk ran his finger down the scar on his face. "She barely notices I'm around."

  "Ha." Katie laughed. "Go on thinking that, big guy. Women are naturally turned on by your don't-touch-don't-look attitude."

  Desi's eyes rounded and quickly narrowed. The women walked away.

  Merk stayed where he stood, so as not to scare Desi more. She wouldn't look at him, and he could read the disappointment in her tight expression.

  She frowned down at the sidewalk. His pulse roared in his ears. He could take her anger and accept it. Her emotions changed fast with no warning, validating opinion about the situation.

  She felt something for him, and her confusion would help him move forward.

  "There's a party tonight at Cam's house. Come with me
," he said.

  She shook her head, backed up to the door, and slipped inside to escape him. Fuck.

  He'd started out wanting to go slow. Slow was no longer an option. Her friendship with Katie and getting to know the other women would cloud her mind, giving him a chance to get closer to her.

  He followed her inside. He wanted her solely fixated on him, blind to everything and open to agreeing, instead of butting heads every time he came near.

  Chapter Six

  The last three customers walked out of Rail Point Bar at five after two in the morning. Desiree hurried over and locked the door. The night dragged on after her encounter outside with Merk when he'd smelled her. She shivered, shaking her head. He'd inhaled and growled as if he wanted to lick every inch of her.

  His presence at the bar the last two days distracted her. When he leaned in close, she found herself holding still, wanting him closer. Her disappointment when Katie and her friends interrupted them angered her.

  Even the game of pool—she won, failed to distract her. She pulled her phone out of her back pocket, checked for any missed calls—none, and went looking for Pop. She'd called Katie at least a half a dozen times hoping to talk with her. She had a feeling Katie went to the party Merk mentioned. The fact she never called back, probably because Merk kept her busy, put her in a grouchy mood.

  Okay, she admitted it. The biker turned her on.

  That didn't mean she wanted anything to happen between them. She just didn't want anything to happen between Merk and the Moroad women.

  "Pop?" She pushed through the swinging door into the office. "There you are."

  Pop sat at his desk¸ pouring over receipts. "Is everyone gone?"

  "Yes."

  Pop pushed the keys on the calculator. "Did you lock up?"

  "Yep." She sat down in the chair in front of the desk. "I won eight hundred dollars tonight and added the money to the cash register. The guy I played claimed he worked the Northwest circuit."

  "Hang on. Let me write the tally down." Pop pulled out a file from his desk and wrote.

  She served drinks, played pool, made some money, and yet she wasn't happy. Too many questions muddied her thoughts and left her frustrated. Katie's friendship with the Silver Girls and the Moroad women never bothered her before. Suddenly with the arrival of Merk working at the bar, she wanted to hold on to her best friend and tell Katie their long standing friend status trumped any kind of relationship with women who only wanted a good time and to hang around bikers.