by Brook Wilder
Sweat beaded on his face and his heartbeat increased at the thought of what he was doing, of the thought of Carla. That whore. She had teased him for months, working out there in those tight jeans and skimpy tank tops, playing coy when he’d grabbed her. He licked his lips. Things had been going so well until his marijuana had disappeared. He knew that bitch was part of it, somehow she was. But what a pretty little bitch she was, he thought as he pulled up the tracker app website and punched in the password.
It had been so easy to take her phone from her purse she left in the locker, install the GPS tracker app, and return it without her even noticing. She didn’t even have a passcode on her phone, making it even easier for him. It was almost as if she wanted him to find her. To follow her. The app worked in the background, supposedly to help find a stolen phone.
He held his breath in anticipation as the map slowly loaded, his body rising, reacting, as he stared at the dot that represented her. Carla. That’s where she was. It wasn’t her house, he knew that address. It was someplace new.
“I’ve got you now, bitch.”
Chapter 13
He was dreaming. A part of him knew that, even if the rest of him was more than willing to suspend disbelief for a while. He was dreaming of her. Her long, soft-skinned legs were wrapped around him like twin snakes, refusing to let go, holding him tight against her body as he supported her slight weight in his arms.
Joel walked her over to the dark corner, it was wreathed in swirling shadows and streams of red and copper and blue just the exact same shade as her eyes. Carla. His bluebird. The thought felt right in the dream as it whispered through him and even more right as he let her curvy frame slide down his own, her feet barely touching the ground before silk ties restrained her wrists and ankles.
He hadn’t tied them, they had just appeared as if they’d always been there and he took a step back, unable to do anything for a moment besides look. Just drink in the exquisitely beautiful sight of her. He wasn’t one to spout poetry but suddenly he could hear Shakespeare in his mind. There was something about her that tapped into a hidden part of himself. Not just the rough exterior he showed the Dirty Cruisers and the rest of the world, but something softer. Something that he’d never let anyone see before.
Wanting more, needing more, even in the fevered dream, he took a step forward and was suddenly in front of her again and she was tied there, waiting for him, looking up with heat shining in her sapphire eyes so bright he could feel the burn of it against his own skin. He reached out a hand to her, caressing her sweet curves.
In the dream, she threw her head back, sending her mink brown hair sliding like strands of the finest silk across her skin and opened her mouth on a groan. Only, it wasn’t a groan. It was more like a harsh, knocking sound that jarred him. It was growing louder and louder.
“What the fuck?” Joel mumbled, his voice still sleep-ridden as he grasped to hold on the already fading dream. There was something about it that called to him on a primal level, but he couldn’t remember why. It was already gone as he sat up. He looked over and froze at the sight that greeted him.
So, it hadn’t just been a dream, he thought as his gaze swept over Carla’s still sleeping form. Her face, so relaxed and at peace, made her seem younger than when she was awake and the red love bite on her neck had male satisfaction rolling through him. He knew it was juvenile, but he loved that she bore his mark.
Fuck, man, get a grip. It’s just a damn hickey.
The knocking sound returned again, in real life this time and sounded even more urgent. Carla jerked awake with a gasp and her blue eyed gaze instantly collided with his.
“What was that?” she asked, her voice roughened from sleep and so sexy it had his already half hard erection tightening painfully. He realized he could get used to hearing that voice first thing in the morning and something about that thought scared the hell out of him.
Joel got to his feet, unembarrassed by his nudity, and glanced at the clock. It was still several hours shy of morning. They’d only slept for a few hours and he cursed himself for getting so distracted by her that he forgot the plan he’d set into action after Carla had notified them about the police investigation.
“Joel, I need to talk to you,” it was Hot Wheels’s voice and she shouted through the closed door of the studio apartment before banging on it again.
“I’m coming! Jesus, hold the fuck on,” he yelled back, walking towards the door nonchalantly. He cast a glance back at Carla, opening his mouth to tease her about getting some clothes on but stopped at the sight of her. Her pale skin was flushed the prettiest pink from her cheeks all the way down her long neck and onto her chest where she had the sheet pulled up to cover herself. He wondered briefly if that blush continued any lower, instantly cursing himself for the wayward thought as his erection bobbed once more, more than happy to find out the answer to that question.
Resolutely, he turned away, ignoring her wide eyed gaze burning between his shoulder blades and walked to the door. He grasped the handle and pulled it open just enough to see Hot Wheels standing there with a giant grin on her face, but still keeping Carla, and most of himself hidden.
“What do you have?” he asked, all business despite Wheels’s smirk as she leaned forward, trying to peak into the room. “Well?” he asked again, and she turned back to him, slightly more serious.
“I got a hold of my contact, Sparkplug.” Joel raised an eyebrow at the moniker but let her continue without interrupting. “He says he can set up a deal with some local groups in Utah. He said he could get it done in a week.”
This time Joel did interrupt, whistling through his teeth, impressed despite himself. It would have taken them at least another month to move the weed.
“What’s his price?” he asked, already dreading the answer and Hot Wheels’s guilty expression confirmed his worse fears.
“Less than half,” she finally said.
“Fuck!” Less than half of what they had expected to turn it for themselves. That’s why they usually cut out the middle man, but this time they didn’t have a choice. “Fine. Set it up. Let’s get this thing moving. Fast.”
“Okay. I’ll contact him agi–”
“Hey, hey. Boss!” Viper’s nasal tones interrupted Hot Wheels and he shouldered his way past her, forcing the door open enough to reveal Carla, who still sat frozen in the middle of the bed. But now she was turning virulent hot pink color and all of Joel’s possessive instincts fired at the lascivious look Viper sent her way.
Joel grabbed Viper’s shoulder, shoving them both back out of the room and sent the man a glare that made him cringe.
“What?” he snapped, and then took a deep breath, trying to regulate his racing heartbeat.
“It’s just, we’re getting ready to move the shipment, you know, to a more discreet location. You said you wanted to go with,” Viper said, his voice now just as cringing as his posture.
“Good work, Viper. I’ll be ready in five.” Joel slapped him as good naturedly on the shoulder as he could but Viper still flinched. Perhaps it was a little harder than it needed to be. After Joel had finally succeeded in shooing both Hot Wheels and Viper away, the whole time rolling his eyes at their curious glances and smirks, he shut the door and turned around with a sigh. His gaze landed on Carla’s and the lust that had been banked for a moment roared back to life like a wild fire.
It was strange to him, just how intensely she affected him. It was more than he could remember feeling for any woman recently. The endless parade of biker groupies and club girls had started to get old but Carla was something altogether…different. For one thing, the girls that hung around the club wouldn’t be blushing bright enough to shame a sunset at the tiny peek Viper had gotten of her sheet-covered body.
His fists clenched unconsciously as something else, new and unwanted, flooded through him. Jealousy. He shook it off as he walked back towards the bed, grabbing his jeans and a shirt along the way. By the time he reached her, he had th
e pants on but still unbuttoned and he slowed his movements, loving the way her gaze brightened with desire, no longer filled with embarrassment but just pure lust.
On impulse he leaned down, giving her a quick kiss that threatened to turn into something more, much more, but he knew if he let that happen he wouldn’t be leaving his apartment anytime soon and he reluctantly pulled back. He had a job to do. They needed to get this weed out of their hands, and it was too big of a risk for him not to be involved in every aspect.
“I’ll be back in a couple hours. Make yourself at home here.” He stood up, “don’t leave until I get back.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and he turned away. He didn’t have any answers to the questions that had fired in her blue eyes. As he walked out of the door, he wished to hell he did.
*
Carla waited until the door shut behind him to exhale the breath that had been pent up since that scorching kiss and flopped back on the bed. Her emotions were so tangled up she couldn’t even begin to sort one from the other. Wonder, desire, confusion, and trepidation all threatened to overwhelm her as her thoughts tumbled through her head.
It was just lust, right? It was just a one night stand.
But then why did she feel like it was something more? Or that it could be? She fought the thoughts back.
It was just one night, she scolded her wayward imagination before it could get off the rails completely. Nothing more, nothing less. He’d told her so himself.
But then what explained the butterflies that whirled through her stomach?
Nothing, she thought. I’m probably just…hungry. Yeah, hungry. That’s it. She mentally snorted at herself but threw back the covers, hastily throwing on the dress and jacket from the night before.
She looked around his Spartan apartment, able to see it now fully with the lights on, and without the blindfold, and it gave her another view into the enigmatic man that was the second in command of the Dirty Cruisers. There was a softness there, riding along all the edged, that surprised her.
With a sigh, she headed out of the room and out to the main bar. It was completely empty, the early hours found most of the men passed out in their own beds, or someone else’s. She was startled to see Honey still behind the bar, wiping down glasses and restocking for whatever the day would bring. Likely more thirsty bikers.
“Honey, do you ever sleep?” she asked as she slid onto one of stools in front of the worn bar. He shot her a haggard smile.
“Not as often as I’d like. It’s almost four in the morning and the last customers just left about a half hour ago. We’re a late night crowd.” He gave a wink, “I’ll hit the hay soon, sleep until noon, and then do it all over again. But maybe I don’t have to sleep alone?” he added at the end, so casually that Carla almost missed it.
She snorted a laugh, slapping him none too lightly on the arm.
“I thought I told you to knock that off.”
“You did, but a man can always hope,” he grinned at her unrepentantly and it was impossible not to match his infectious smile. “Speaking of hope, tell me more about your friend, the gorgeous prissy blond with the stick up her ass.” His grin twisted crookedly around the words and his melting brown eyes fired with a mix of anger and desire.
“Elle is a very good friend of mind, and she’s off limits, Honey. She’s not your type, anyways.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means she’s…nice,” Carla finally answered, “And she has standards. High standards.”
“Nice,” Honey snorted, staring intently at the same glass he’d been cleaning since he had brought up Elle, “Nice is overrated. And I have standards too, you know.”
“Uh huh. I’ve seen the girls that throw themselves at you. I’d say those standards only encompass one thing, and that one thing is whether or not they’re female.”
“Two actually,” he said, with a guilty grin, “female and willing.”
“Right. Like I said, Elle is nice. And inexperienced. So just stop whatever lascivious thoughts you have right now because it’s not gonna happen.”
“We’ll just see about that,” he said, determination now lighting his gaze before he turned it back towards her with a glimmer of mischief. “So, you and Joel, huh?”
“There is no ‘me and Joel’.” Even as she said the words though, she had to wonder.
“I don’t know, I saw the way he looked at you. It’s…different.”
“Well, according to him, it’s not.” Carla suddenly didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and stood quickly, “Listen, I’m going to go back to bed. Joel’s not going to be back for hours and I’m exhausted.”
“I’m sure you are, sweetheart,” Honey teased with a laugh and Carla sent him a mock glare as she walked out of the large bar and towards the back of the building where Joel’s apartment was. She opened the door and closed it behind her with a thud, wondering why she suddenly felt like crying and blamed it on everything that had happened earlier with Maurice. Yeah, that was it. Nothing at all to do with Joel.
She slipped off the jacket and dress and sighed as she slid under the silk sheets. Joel’s scent, spicy and male, surrounded her instantly and she drifted off to sleep with images of him dancing through her head.
Chapter 14
Joel was exhausted as he slipped back into his apartment hours later. It had taken a lot longer than he had hoped to move the shipment and they’d ended up having to split it amongst several different vehicles to keep it inconspicuous. But the real delay had been all the extra troopers circling wide swaths of their territory, just waiting for any excuse to pounce.
They’d had to be careful and he’d been so grateful he decided to go with, especially when Viper had suggested just charging them. The man was a good biker and was good at following orders, but he acted before he thought, and this situation was too delicate for that kind of shit.
He flicked on the overhead lights and stopped abruptly when he glanced over to the bed. His chest tightened painfully on an unfamiliar emotion. Carla was still there. The dark silk sheets wrapped around her creamy, pale limbs and the contrast had his breath stalling in his lungs.
She looked so peaceful, so calm, so relaxed, so goddamned beautiful it was almost hard to look at her and Joel clenched his hands as he walked closer. She also looked out of reach. Unattainable.
But you’ve already attained her, a sly, soft voice whispered in his mind, you attained her on the bed, you attained her against the wall, and afterwards you attained her bent over the kitchen table.
Joel shook the thought away, his body hardening instantly as the memories of the night before came tumbling back. Was this just lust? And if it was, why was it so intense, why was it so much more than he’d known before? He’d told her nothing but the truth last night. He didn’t have girlfriends, he barely even had relationships with the women he slept with outside of the bedroom and that was how he’d kept things for the past ten years.
So then why did this feel different? With her, with Carla. What was it about her that had him tied up in knots, and his thoughts constantly returning to her when she wasn’t with him? He stopped at the edge of the bed and just stared down at her. Surprised, he peered closer at her side, shocked to see the intricate tattoo that wound its way across her rib cage, twining up her back and around her shoulder blade. It looked like plants, or trees. Maybe a forest.
Well, well. It looked like his little bluebird had a wild streak in her too. His fingers itched to trace the artfully done ink, having plenty of tattoos himself. Not used to denying himself, he sank onto the bed next to her and pushed down one side of the sheet.
He noticed there were words inked in script next to each different one and he marveled again at the beauty of the piece, its delicateness, and yet there was a strength and straight forwardness there as well. It was a lot like Carla herself, he realized.
With one rough fingertip he started at the tattoo’s highest point that reached to her sho
ulder and traced it as lightly as he could, marveling at the detail. Down and down, across the smooth expanse of her back, her side, until it dipped to sweep across her rib cage. It grew up like a living thing from where it started at her hip and that’s where his hand stopped, no longer just tracing but caressing with every touch.
Joel felt like he could just feel her like this forever, and wondered briefly if he would ever have enough. As that thought shattered through him, along with the repercussions, his mind shouted for him to pull back, for him to check himself before things got too carried away, but his body had other ideas, and it seemed to have a will of its own as it drew the silken sheet down even further. Every inch of new skin revealed had his desire growing, drowning out any unease at the train of his thoughts.
Carla shifted in the bed, making a purring sound in the back of her throat and he was rock hard in an instant. But as she turned into him, her body soft and warm from sleep, he groaned as he forced himself to pull back. He didn’t have time. He was already supposed to be on his way to meet Hot Wheels to figure out their next move.
