Crash (The Brazen Bulls MC Book 1)

by Susan Fanetti

  “What about Ollie? He won’t know what to do with all these people, and he needs a yard, and walks, and—”

  “Willa. Everybody’ll follow your lead meetin’ Ollie. Everybody here loves dogs, and nobody’s afraid of pitties. There’s not much grass in back, but there’s enough for him to do his business, and the guys’ll take turns walkin’ him. This neighborhood is like a little town, and the Bulls’re like the mayor. It looks rough around here, I know, but people look out for the ones who belong.” He brushed his fingers over the scratches on her face. “I need you safe and out of trouble. This is where I need you right now.”

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” He was surprised by her concession.

  She enjoyed that and decided the moment needed some snark. “Yes, okay. I will be a good old lady and do what my man says.”

  “Shit,” he chuckled and shook his head. “I thought I’d enjoy that sentence more.”

  ~oOo~

  The ‘bedrooms’ Rad had advertised were tiny—enough room for a double bed and a chest of drawers, and not much more than that. With Ollie’s bed in the corner, there were about four square feet of empty floor space. And the best part of all that opulence—no private bathroom. There were two bathrooms on the second floor, and they were shared by ten rooms.

  It was like Willa was back in college and had been assigned to the shittiest dorm on campus.

  At least she had a couple of decent roommates, though.

  Rad’s confidence aside, Willa had been nervous about bringing Ollie into the clubhouse. He’d never been around so many people before, and she wasn’t sure how he’d take all the stimulation. He might get stressed, and if the guys got rowdy, she didn’t know if Ollie would understand.

  The service station was closed, and the dinner Willa had just started helping prepare a few hours before—beef stew and fresh bread—had been served, buffet style on the bar. All the Bulls were sitting around inhaling the aromatic meal.

  Ollie had been watchful and reserved, but Willa thought the rich aromas of stew and bread—momentarily overwhelming the usual bottom-of-a-frat-house-dumpster reek of the place—had distracted him a bit. And Rad hadn’t oversold the Bulls’ collective affection for dogs and ease around pit bulls. After an hour, Ollie had more friends than he’d ever had, and his belly was about raw from the on-demand rubbing it had been getting.

  She was pretty sure he’d had his share of sneaky stew, as well.

  As the evening wore on, and Ollie enjoyed his ‘guest of honor’ status, Willa realized that she was at her first Bulls party. Everybody was together, talking and laughing and drinking. A game of pool was going on between Apollo and Griffin. Gunner had one of the girls—Tyra, the girl who’d helped out the night Willa had tended to him and Simon—on the pinball machine, giving Willa an idea what Rad might have meant when he’d told her he’d fucked with an audience before.

  Ox stood behind his old lady, Maddie, at the jukebox, his humungous arms around her. They looked like they were picking music, but they’d been over there for a while. Delaney and Mo snuggled together on a sofa. Dane and Joanna had gone home. The other guys were either at the bar or on the patio. There seemed to be plenty of girls to go around, and they seemed to be happy with any Bull they got. Even some guys not in kuttes—they must have been the ‘hangarounds’—were getting lucky.

  “What’s goin’ on, baby?” Rad came up behind her and murmured in her ear, punctuating the question with a nibble of her lobe.

  “Mmmm. What d’you mean?”

  “You’re standin’ here swayin’ and grinnin’. Thinkin’ happy thoughts?” His hands slid over her hips and drew her back to his body.

  “Yeah. I like this place.”

  His chuckle tickled her neck and gave her goosebumps. “I thought it was gross.”

  “It totally is. But I like it. Ollie loves it.”

  “You’re a little drunk, ain’t ya?”

  “Hmmm? I don’t think so.” She lifted the beer bottle in her hand. It was empty. She hadn’t had that much to drink—a couple of beers with dinner, a couple of shots of…tequila? whiskey? with the ladies, some beers since. Oh, and the shot of Jäger, just to shut Gunner up about it. “Maybe a little.”

  Rad’s fingers had slid into the front pockets of her jeans, and his mouth had made a trail of tiny kisses from her ear, down the side of her throat, across the back of her neck. He was working his way up to her other ear. Her body throbbed heavily, a downward beat striking deep, making her clit swell. Her nipples were painful knots straining against her bra.

  His erection rocked against her ass and lower back as she writhed on him, and he groaned and bit down on her neck.

  Dropping her head back and letting it roll to the side against his chest so he could reach all of her neck, she moaned, “Let’s fuck.”

  “You got it. Let’s get upstairs.”

  A thought struck her and gave her a thrill. With it, she knew he was right—she was a little drunk. Maybe it hadn’t been the world’s best idea to drink a couple of nights after being drugged, but hey—hindsight. Anyway, she was safe, and it wasn’t a bad thought she was having. Simply unusual.

  “You say you’ve had an audience before?”

  He flinched. “What? No, Willa—that was sweetbutts.”

  Thinking of Tyra and Gunner on the pinball machine, the full understanding occurred to her for the very first time that she was surrounded by women who’d been naked with her man. Jealousy flowered in her heart. “So? You saying you don’t want people to see you fuck me? You embarrassed?”

  He turned her around and stared into her eyes. “You are drunk, baby.”

  Maybe. It still wasn’t a horrible idea. She liked everybody here—well, except for possibly all the sweetbutts she might have just possibly decided that she hated. Still, she was safe. Wasn’t that the whole point of being here? “Aren’t you? And you didn’t answer my question.” She poked him in the chest to underline her point.

  “I’m not drunk, and I’m not embarrassed. But I don’t want you on display.”

  “Well, I’m not sayin’ I want to fuck on the pinball machine. It’s taken, anyway. Isn’t there like…ooh! Outside. Let’s fuck outside. I want the night air on me while you fuck me silly.” She slid her hands under his t-shirt and scratched her fingers lightly down his chest.

  He pushed her arms away. “I’ll fuck you outside sometime when we got some privacy. I’ll take you out on my bike and fuck you good and proper on the saddle. But not here, Willa. Let’s go upstairs.”

  She knew she was being silly, and drunk, to be hurt, but hurt she was. Angry, too. Also jealous. “Fine.” She shoved him away. “Forget about it. And don’t come upstairs with me. Snooze you lose, butthead.”

  She stalked out of the party room and found her way to the stairs, then stomped up to the room that was to be her home for the next undetermined number of days.

  ~oOo~

  Willa was half asleep, sprawled face-down on the bed, when the door opened and she heard Ollie’s tags jingle as he came into the room. Shit, she’d forgotten to call Ollie when she’d come up! Bad mom!

  “Lay down, boy.”

  Rad sounded irritated. Well, good. Willa was irritated, too. Ollie lay down with a huff, and then Willa sensed a large presence at the side of the bed. “You awake?”

  She cracked an eye open and looked up at him. “Maybe.”

  “Sit up.”

  “Bossy butthead.”

  “Willa, up. Now.”

  Knowing she was behaving like a child and not able to care, she turned her face to the wall.

  Then she squeaked when he grabbed her and flipped her over, propping her up against the headboard. “I’m not talkin’ to your goddamn backside, woman. Look at me.”

  She did, crossing her arms over her chest. When she’d gotten into the room, she’d stripped down to her panties and t-shirt, wiggling her bra out of the sleeve in the way every girl in the world learned before she graduated high school.


  “I told you not to come up after me.”

  “Tough shit.” He sat down on the side of the bed, just beyond her bent knees.

  When she opened her mouth to call him a bully, he threw his hand up between them like a Supreme performing ‘Stop in the Name of Love.’ His rings glinted in the light from the little lamp on the chest. She liked the look of his hands with their rings—especially the underside. There was just something extra sexy about those bands of silver against his palms.

  “Call me a butthead or a bully or an asshole, I don’t give a shit. You’re gonna listen. Then I’ll crash somewhere else.”

  She kept her mouth shut and let him have his moment. Damn, she was drunk. Not drunk enough for this not to matter. Just enough to be unable not to act like a twat.

  He opened this big speech he apparently needed to get out right now with, “Well, now I know you’re a bitchy drunk,” and Willa hit him—punched him in the chest. He grabbed her fist and held it in his—and not gently.

  “Scrappy, too. Good to know. You wanna throw down and have some angry sex, some real wild, work-out-our-shit sex, I’m your man, baby. I will fuck you raw and hear you beg for more. But not while you’re drunk and I’m not. And not shit you wouldn’t do sober. Fuckin’ Christ, I just spent a whole goddamn night and day at your side while you were sick from drugs that bastard made you take. Shit he gave you to make you do things you wouldn’t do on your own. If you think I’m gonna fuck you out in public when you’re drunk two goddamn nights later, and you never said before you’d like somethin’ like that? What do you think I am?”

  Somewhere in the middle of Rad’s speech, Willa stopped feeling hurt and angry and started feeling guilty. And safe. And in love. And less drunk. And horny as all hell again.

  What Jesse had done to her this last time was real and awful, but she didn’t remember much of it. She didn’t even remember much of her day of recovery. Those things she did remember, like Rad’s constant presence, or the long talk they’d had in the living room when she was feeling better, were covered over in gauzy layers left behind by the drug. She knew they’d happened, and she could recount the details, but their edges were padded. She wasn’t traumatized. Not even by the fact that she’d killed a man, or the thought that his friends might come looking for payback.

  She had made herself safe, and Rad was keeping her safe, and she trusted that she was. She felt fine.

  But he’d had a different experience of those hours, and in some respects, at least from the moment that he’d found her, his experience was the more acute one. She’d been hurt and ill, but she’d been unconscious for most of that. He’d been awake and afraid.

  She tugged on her hand, and he let it go. Then she rose up on her knees and hooked her arms over his shoulders.

  “I’m sorry. I was a bitch.”

  He nodded, his eyebrows up as an emphasis to his agreement.

  “I love you. Thank you for taking care of me.”

  He gave her a sidelong, suspicious look. “You’re welcome. I love you, too.”

  She straddled his lap. He set his hands on her hips, lifting her weight from him.

  “Willa…what did I just fuckin’ say?”

  “That you wouldn’t fuck me drunk if it wasn’t something I would do sober. So fuck me the way you know I like.”

  A fire caught in his dark eyes, and she knew she had him. Smirking, she sucked his bottom lip between her teeth and pulled until he groaned and dropped her on his lap, letting her grind on him.

  “Come on,” she whispered against his beard. “Put that big cock in me and make me scream.”

  “Jesus,” he muttered—and then put her on the bed and did what she said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Rad caught Willa’s arm and pulled her close for a kiss. He took it deep, sliding his hand to the back of her head to hold her, before he leaned back and smiled. “I’ll pick you up at four. I’ll be at the station all day. Page me if anything changes. Wally’s on you all day. Throw him some lunch or somethin’ later, will ya?”

  She straightened his sunglasses. “Okay. Lynette’ll be happy. I think she has a crush on him.”

  “Which one’s Lynette?”

  “One of the LPNs. Short, curly dark hair?”

  Didn’t sound familiar, so he shrugged. “Only eyes for you, baby.”

  Willa grinned and gave his hand a parting squeeze, and Rad watched her walk up to the hospital entrance. Wally had been sitting on a bench outside, waiting for her, and he walked in with her, sending Rad a wave as he did.

  Before Rad left the hospital campus, he did a tour of all the parking lots, taking note of anything with Texas plates and of all motorcycles. Satisfied that there was nothing obviously threatening, he headed to the station.

  Willa had killed Smithers two weeks earlier. He’d kept her at the clubhouse for four days, nearly a week after he’d found her in that motel room, and they’d had no sign of any movement from the Rats. Apollo had gotten word that the van had been found, and Smithers’ body had been identified with dental records. So the Rats knew he was dead, and where he’d been found, and still no movement from them in the Bulls’ direction.

  It seemed like they might have dodged a bullet.

  Ollie seemed to love the clubhouse, and Willa didn’t mind it nearly as much as he’d expected, but she’d wanted to get back to work and to her house. Without evidence that she was in anybody’s sights, there hadn’t been much reason to keep her at the clubhouse. And Rad was uncomfortable, too. The crash pads upstairs were meant for fucking and sleeping a bender off, not living.

  He wasn’t ready to relax entirely, though, especially not with the Russians coming back to meet with the crew taking point along the new route, so he’d insisted that Willa have somebody on her all day for a while.

  She hadn’t given him the fight he’d been ready for. She was honestly trying to follow his lead on this. It helped—a lot—that he could trust her not to go off half-cocked on her own again.

  With her agreement to a guard, and no sign of trouble from Lubbock, they’d gone home.

  Rad didn’t know when he’d started thinking of her house as his home. He couldn’t remember the first time it had happened, and he couldn’t remember ever thinking it was a strange thought for him to have. Willa was his home. Where she went, so did he.

  And that wasn’t a strange thought at all.

  ~oOo~

  He was under an old Honda Civic, doing a routine oil change, when his pager went off later that morning. Since he was at the station, he knew it wasn’t a Bull reaching out, and Willa was the only other person who had his pager number. He left the old oil to drain and came out from under the car. Snagging a shop towel from his back pocket, Rad wiped his hands and checked his pager, smiling already, expecting to see 14.

  And he did—but the nurses’ lounge number was first, so she wanted him to call. He went to the shop phone and did.

  “Labor & Delivery, Willa Randall speaking.”

  “Me, baby. You okay?”

  She hesitated only a beat, but it was enough to get him standing up straight.

  “Can you come for lunch?”

  He checked his watch—just after eleven. He checked the work schedule on the clipboard at his side. He had a brake job on deck that afternoon, and church after that to discuss the Volkovs coming in the next day. This was a day that eating a Big Mac from a sack on the worktable here in the bays was about all the time for lunch he could afford.

  “I need to talk to you. In person.”

  Her voice sounded wrong in a way he couldn’t pinpoint, and he didn’t like that at all.

  “Tell me now, Wills. What’s wrong?”

  “It’s not wrong, and I’m okay. I just…really need to talk to you face to face. Okay? Please.”

  That settled it. “I’m there. When?”

  “I’m on lunch right now. Can you come now?”

  Dread began to swirl at the base of his skull. She was sure acting lik
e this was an emergency, no matter what words she was using. “Jesus, Wills. And you say you’re okay?”

  “I am. I promise. Rad—just come.”

  ~oOo~

  He got Eight Ball to finish the oil change, and he hauled ass to the hospital. Willa was waiting for him at the nurse’s station. Wally, sitting nearby in the waiting room, stood up, clearly surprised to see Rad.

  He waved Wally back to the waiting room. “You’re not off duty, kid. Just takin’ a minute with my lady. Sit.” Then he kissed Willa’s cheek. “What’s goin’ on, baby?”