“You’re late. What took you so long?”
“Spanish—”
“Hang on,” he said over his shoulder, letting the motorcycle lurch forward in an impatient attempt to exit the parking lot.
Olivia’s conscience nagged at her. She really should go home. The oral report was worth half her grade and she needed to ace it. But they’d had these plans for over a week, and Max would get really mad if she bailed on him now. He wasn’t the most understanding boyfriend ever, but what he lacked in personality he more than made up for in looks—yum. Besides, wasn’t that dark, broody attitude part of his appeal anyway? She was so tired of always playing it safe. It felt good to do something wild and dangerous for a change. She finally felt alive. Max made her feel…almost like she was tempting fate, and it excited her.
***
Max smiled to himself as he flew down the road, enjoying the feel of Olivia’s soft curves crushed against his back. When he agreed to come here and do this, he had no idea how beautiful she was, or how much he’d enjoy his assignment. Maybe if he dragged this out a while, and he was lucky, he’d “get lucky”, before he killed her.
They’d been going out for over two months now. How much longer could the girl hold out? Surprisingly, she wasn’t as irritating to be around as he expected an eighteen-year-old female would be. Trusting to a fault, she had a sweet way about her. If he had a heart, she might have melted it.
The worst part of being here was attending Cromwell High—that, in itself, was torture. The monotony of it all pushed him to the limit of his patience, which had never been one of his virtues. Thankfully, most of the students stayed clear of him. It was easy to convince them he came from a troubled past. He stayed tight-lipped and made no real attempt to socialize or have any friends. He’d shown little interest in anyone or anything—except Olivia. He told her he was repeating his senior year because he was several credits short of graduation. Being ageless did have its benefits. He didn’t look a day over twenty. She bought the lie—they all bought the lie.
He took the long way home, wanting to keep her pressed up against him just a little longer. No—he definitely wanted to drag this out, although they made it clear to him from the beginning this needed to end quickly. They expected him to bring Olivia to the pier tonight. He contemplated simply not going. It might be worth the heat he’d take on the other side.
Max pulled into his driveway and parked the bike in front of the garage. He glanced over his shoulder when she didn’t let go of him. Her cheek pressed against his back, a frown touched her brows when she looked up at him. Damn, she’s gorgeous.
“Something wrong, Liv?” Not that he really cared, but it seemed like the boyfriend thing to ask.
“No,” she denied, forcing a little smile that failed to convince him. She was hiding something.
“If something’s bothering you, you can tell me, you know.” He feigned concern, carefully watching her reaction. If he could read her thoughts or feel her emotions, this would be so much easier.
“Just forget it,” she said dismissively. “So, where’s this party you said you wanted to go to?”
“It’s down by the pier, in Clearwater. Some old buddies of mine just came into town and we thought it would be fun to catch up. I kinda wanted them to meet you.” Max reached out and gently caught her chin between his thumb and index finger, and squeezed affectionately. “You wanna come in?” He arched an eyebrow and gave her a roguish smile.
She blushed and looked away from his dark inviting gaze.
So innocent…definitely gonna have to do something about that.
“I’d better not. I’ll just wait out here.”
He watched Olivia a moment longer, tempting her to change her mind. She smiled back and slowly shook her head.
Max painted a devastated look on his face and dramatically held his hand over his heart, stumbling backward.
Olivia laughed. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad.”
“Speak for yourself,” he teased. “You know how hard it is for me to be good?” If she only knew the half of it.
Max slid his hands along the sides of her waist. His thumbs slipped under her shirt and brushed against her warm soft skin. He leaned close to the side of her neck and drew in a long slow breath. She smelled delicious, like vanilla and jasmine. His mouth watered at the thought of kissing her.
He brushed his lips against the pulse pounding at the base of her throat. Olivia moved to the side, dodging his kiss. She slid off the bike, twisting out of his reach. He resisted the urge to hang on to her as she pulled away, tempted to throw her over his shoulder and carry her into the house, willing or otherwise.
“Come on, Max,” she pleaded. “We’re in public. You know I’m not into PDA, and I just don’t want to move so fast.”
Speaking of PDA—he glanced over Olivia’s shoulder at his neighbor across the street. The man stood in his front yard, staring at them as he watered his flowers. Max stepped closer to Olivia and pulled her into a hug, taking the opportunity to shoot his neighbor a menacing glare. The man looked embarrassed that he’d been caught watching them and turned away, busying himself with his flowerbeds.
“But PDA kind of turns me on,” Max purred against her ear, never missing an opportunity to engage in public displays of affection. “It lets everyone know that you’re mine,” he added with a touch of possessiveness.
“Everything turns you on, Max. What time are we going to the party?”
She changed the subject, obviously trying to distract him. It’s going to take more than that, sweetheart.
“I told them we’d meet them at the pub for a game of pool before we go to the pier. I’m just going to run into the house and get changed. I’ll be right back.” He walked away, leaving Olivia standing there alone.
***
Olivia couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling of being watched. She turned around and locked eyes with Max’s neighbor. He immediately looked away, pretending not to notice her. A chill crept up her spine.
A few minutes later, the front door slammed shut, and Olivia turned around to see Max jogging down the steps wearing a black Judas Priest t-shirt, dark washed out jeans and a pair of combat boots. He climbed back on the Harley. “Ready?”
She caught her bottom lip between her teeth, a nervous habit she couldn’t seem to break. “Yeah…”
“What’s wrong?”
“It’s your neighbor, he keeps staring at me. It’s kinda creeping me out.”
Max frowned, shooting a glare at the man across the street. “You want me to go say something to him?”
“No, let’s just go, I don’t want you to make a big deal out it.”
As soon as she climbed on the bike, Max backed out of the driveway. He revved the engine a couple of times and released the clutch. The Harley shot forward, tires squealing as the motorcycle fishtailed down the street, leaving a quarter mile patch of rubber behind.
The beautiful town of Clearwater bordered the Pacific Ocean thirty miles south of Evercrest. They pulled into the pub on the northern edge—it was anything but beautiful. Unease settled in the pit of her stomach like a lead weight. Max parked the bike in line with a row of fifteen other Harleys.
I shouldn’t be here. “Max—” Fear edged in her voice, making it crack when she opened her suddenly dry mouth to speak. “This isn’t a pub. We’re at a biker bar,” she exclaimed, looking up at the sign sitting on top of the dilapidated building: The Wrath.
“Relax, Liv,” Max said, dismissing her protest. His tone bordered on agitation, evident by the impatient look on his face. She didn’t want to make him angry by ruining his plans with his friends, so against her better judgment, she reluctantly climbed off the back of the bike.
“That’s my girl,” he said smoothly, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her in for a sideways hug. He placed an affectionate kiss on the top of her head.
As they opened the door, a cloud of cigarette smoke rolled out to meet them. Olivia coug
hed, fruitlessly waving her hand in front of her face, trying to clear the air. The haze hovered like a dark, ominous cloud, swallowing her up as she stepped inside.
“Boy, this place is crowded,” Olivia commented, surprised to see so many people packed inside this dive of a bar. “Where did everyone come from? The parking lot didn’t look that full.”
Max turned and leveled her with a piercing stare. “How many people do you think are in here?”
Taken aback by his brisk tone, she glanced around to see several guys staring at her as if even they couldn’t believe she would be dumb enough to come in here. Her apprehension grew with each passing second. “Well, I’d say about fifty.”
Max looked around before meeting her eyes again. “Why don’t you grab a seat, Liv? I’ll go get us something to drink,” he murmured, walking toward the bar.
“I’d like a Mountain Dew,” she called after him. Suddenly alone, she tried to ignore the little voice inside her head screaming, “Get out of here!”
“You’re going to be okay, Olivia. Everything’s going to be all right,” she chanted over and over in a failed attempt to convince herself she wasn’t going to die. She shouldn’t be here. What in the hell was Max thinking? Was he trying to get her killed?
She sat at the table waiting for him to return and tried not to look around. Her hands clamped tightly together in a white-knuckled grip. Her flesh crawled from the stares of guys who eyed her like a dessert buffet.
“It is, you know—going to be all right.”
Olivia’s heart leapt in her throat, choking off a surprised yelp. She hadn’t heard the stranger approach, and now he stood right beside her—towering over her, actually. She looked up and locked eyes with her uninvited guest. The intensity of his deep violet stare sent her heart ratcheting inside her chest.
She made a quick head-to-toe appraisal of the very tall, heavily muscled stranger. His dark brown hair hung loosely in errant waves that stylishly framed his handsome face. His proud nose and strong square jaw were nothing short of perfection. What was this guy doing in a biker bar? He stood out like a sore thumb among this tattooed leather-clad group of men who looked like a bunch of serial killers. Anyone of these guys could be the next star on America’s Most Wanted.
“I’m sorry I frightened you.” His husky voice eased her raw nerves like a soothing balm.
“You didn’t,” she denied. His top lip pulled up in amusement, revealing a glimpse of straight white teeth. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” He certainly acted like she should. Olivia looked away in an attempt to recover from her awkward moment of staring. Hopefully she didn’t drool—that would be terribly embarrassing.
“My name is Liam,” he offered. “I couldn’t help but notice you looked like a little lamb being sent to the slaughter, sitting here all by yourself. If you don’t mind my saying, this isn’t exactly the safest place for a young lady.”
“Well, thank you for your concern—I guess. But I’m not here alone. My boyfriend is up at the bar.”
“Is he trying to get you killed?”
Olivia gasped. She wasn’t sure if it was his frankness, or the fact that he voiced the same exact words she’d thought only a moment ago. Or maybe it was the spark of anger that flashed in those eyes, now making them look a shade closer to amethyst.
“Excuse me?” She didn’t know what else to say. Olivia glanced over her shoulder, checking to see if Max was still at the bar—he wasn’t. Her pulse quickened as a wave of apprehension washed over her. If Max came back and found her talking to this guy, all hell would break loose. Normally, she’d be concerned for the stranger standing beside her, but at roughly six-four, two-twenty, he didn’t exactly look like he’d have trouble defending himself. “My boyfriend will be back any minute, and he’s kinda the jealous type. It would probably be best if you weren’t here talking to me when he did.”
The stranger gave her a full-on smile. Was that amusement she saw in his eyes?
“Now you’re concerned for me?”
“No—yes—I don’t know…I just don’t want any trouble. Thank you for coming over. It was nice meeting you,” she said dismissively, hoping he would take the hint and leave before Max came back. Shit, she didn’t want him making a scene in here. The stranger paused, and for a moment she wondered if trouble wasn’t exactly what he was looking for.
Finally, he spoke, and she let out the breath that had somehow lodged in her throat. “It was nice meeting you, Olivia. Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”
The stranger turned and walked away. He’d taken several steps from her before she realized she hadn’t given him her name. Olivia stood up to stop him, to demand he come back and explain himself, but Max’s voice cut her off.
“Who was that?”
Olivia turned around. Max sat two beers on the table, his brows pulled together in a tight scowl. She watched him track the stranger’s movements as he made his way to the door. She expected him to leave, but he stopped short of the exit and turned to face her, leaning his shoulders casually against the wall.
The little hairs on the back of her neck tingled as she watched the wordless showdown between Max and the stranger. A malicious sneer crossed Max’s face a second before he took a possessive step toward her and slid his arm around her waist. He pulled her close, his mouth descending on hers in a kiss much too intimate for the public eye. His teeth grazed her lower lip in a teasing caress as his tongue breeched her mouth, brushing against hers.
“Max!” Olivia pulled back and wedged her hand against his chest and shoved him away. The skunky aftertaste of beer filled her mouth. She hated it when he drank. Instant ass—just add alcohol. What was he trying to prove anyway?
“God, you taste good.” His low, throaty growl sent a chill up her spine, and she took an apprehensive step back, stunned speechless. Well that was a macho-shithead move. Why didn’t he just pee in a circle around her and be done with it already?
Heat flooded her cheeks from embarrassment when she glanced back at the stranger.
One look at him sent a release of adrenaline rushing through her veins. His eyes were locked on Max with a murderous glare. The once dark violet color, now replaced with a bright amethyst sheen, giving him an otherworldly appearance. He was beautiful—breathtaking—terrifying. Common sense told her to fear him, but her heart told her he meant her no harm.
Too bad she couldn’t say the same for Max.
Chapter Three
Max watched his competition from the corner of his eye. He’d taken a risk, kissing Olivia like that, and counted himself lucky when her knee hadn’t connected with his groin. His tongue thoroughly assaulted her mouth, and she didn’t look too happy about it. Neither did the stranger whose eyes nearly glowed in the dark shadows of the bar, revealing what he’d suspected all along—this stranger wasn’t one of them. Interesting…
“Come on.” He grabbed Olivia with one hand and the beers with the other. “Let’s play some pool.” Max walked over to the pool tables and put some change into the coin slot. A cascade of balls released with a loud clunk and rolled down to the pocket.
“Rack ‘em up.” He shot another warning glare at the stranger by the door who openly watched Olivia, making no attempt to be subtle about it. She didn’t appear to notice his amethyst eyes following her every move.
They played a few rounds. He let Olivia win, too distracted by the watchful eyes of the stranger to give any real attention to the game. Max rounded the corner of the pool table where Olivia stood, bent over, lining up her shot. Her slender, curvaceous body sent a shot of white-hot desire tearing through him. He sauntered toward her with a predatory grace, locking eyes with the stranger as he came up behind her, pressing himself against her back. He bent over her and slowly slid his hands down her warm petal-soft skin. She held the pool stick, ready to take her shot.
He whispered in her ear, “Try holding it like this.” His face bent close to her cheek.
Fury resonated in the stranger’s eyes. Max fu
lly expected him to fly across the room in a murderous rampage. Tauntingly, he slowly slid Olivia’s hands into a different position on the stick. He slid his hand against her stomach and tucked her more tightly against him. Could she feel his desire? He leaned closer and looked into the stranger’s bright amethyst eyes as he kissed Olivia on the cheek. She squirmed uncomfortably beneath him. If she kept moving like this they’d be going back to his house tonight whether she wanted to or not.
Reluctantly, he let her go and turned away while he still had the self-control to do it. He walked over to the table, quickly finished his beer, and grabbed the second, carrying it over to Olivia. “You gonna drink this, Liv?” He held up the bottle and dropped more quarters into the table for another game.
“No,” she replied flatly. “You know I don’t drink, Max, and neither should you. You’re driving, and I asked you for a Mountain Dew. How did you even get them to sell you those anyway?” Olivia’s face pinched into a disapproving frown as he tipped back the second beer, draining its contents in less than a minute.
“I’ll grab you a Dew if you want to rack up one last game.” He walked around the corner, weaving his way up to the bar. He wasn’t exactly excited about letting her out of his sight again, considering what happened the last time. The damn girl was a shit magnet.
***
Olivia bent over and pulled the balls out of the side pocket when a sudden chill ran up her spine. She froze and looked to her right. Two large men sat at a table twenty feet away, staring right at her. Both men were dressed in full leathers—one had a shaved head and a full beard while the other wore a do-rag that didn’t fully cover his long greasy brown hair. The other guy was sleeved in tattoos, and had a face full of studs, mostly through his ears, lip and left brow. He said something to his bearded friend as he continued to watch her. He finished his last swallow of whiskey and ground his cigarette into the table before slowly standing, his chair scraping loudly across the floor as he pushed it back.
The Redemption Series Page 2
