Devil's Property: The Faithless MC

by Claire St. Rose

  There were two fresh beers waiting on the table for him when he got back, and he sent a smile in Danika’s direction. She nodded back at him, and he gulped down another couple mouthfuls of beer in one go.

  Often at The Bark there was usually at least one guy who he knew wanted to fight him, but it seemed like a neutral crowd tonight. Not that he ever would engage in a fight while there, or even outside. The Bark was neutral territory—a safe zone. The patrons liked things a certain way, and some of those ways were illegal. If they started attracting too much trouble to the place, they’d have to give up some of the creature comforts that they then wouldn’t be able to get at any other bar.

  So people kept it quiet.

  Which was what made it so amusing on the nights he did see a rival or just an asshole who had beef. Luke wasn’t a guy to be fucked with, but he also wasn’t the type to sit and seethe over his beer about someone who’d pissed him off. He could laugh and chat, even if that guy was sitting two tables down from him. Other people seemed not to have the same ability. He’d been in many nights with his club and seen people trying to look intimidating from across the room.

  What the fuck was the point?

  Anyway, for all the hard looks he got on occasion, not one of those guys was ever able to beat him in a tussle. It made it even more hilarious to beat them after they’d been giving him the evil eye all night. It seemed to serve them right.

  After he’d finished his second beer, Luke peered over toward the bathroom. When would Shayla be coming back? Was she okay? He glanced across at her empty chair, but her blazer was still there. Surely she wouldn’t have left without her blazer?

  Luke had never been ditched before. If that’s what was happening. He still didn’t know why, after a kiss like that, she would have left. So he gave it a few more minutes. When she still didn’t show, Luke gestured for Danika to come over.

  “Another beer?”

  “Uh, no.” Luke lowered his voice, embarrassed for the first time in a very long time. “I’m not sure if something happened to the girl I’m with, or if she’s fucking ditched me.”

  Danika laughed. “It would serve you right, you Casanova fuck.”

  Luke narrowed his eyes at her, and she stifled her giggling. Even Dani, who Luke would never hurt, knew better than to mess around with his patience.

  “Want me to go check in the bathroom for her?”

  “Yes please.”

  “Right away, darlin’.” Danika went to the back hallway, disappearing down it with a waggle of her eyebrows. She must have figured she was safe because she was out of range. Luke had to admit though, he did find it charming that she felt so comfortable with him.

  Danika came back moments later, but shook her head from a distance rather than approach. Then she went back to serving.

  “Fuck.”

  Luke glared at Shayla’s beer and jacket. What the fuck could have been so urgent that she’d leave without her shit? Surely she couldn’t have been that scared of him. It wasn’t like he would have tossed her over his shoulder and dragged her home with him if she’d decided she wanted to go home alone.

  He was fuming. Outraged. Confused. And definitely frustrated. His cock throbbed in his jeans, reminding him of the fuck that he wasn't going to get tonight. He rose angrily and swiped the blazer from Shayla’s abandoned chair, slamming a twenty on the table and turning to stalk out the front door.

  He hoped that she might be at his bike. Maybe it had been a joke. But nope, there was no hot blonde draped over his seat. No goddamn sign of her. This was a first he would have been pleased never to experience.

  Yet, as Luke got back on his bike, one more thought flitted through his mind: the chase is back on.

  Chapter Nine

  The night air was freezing without her blazer. Maybe it just felt like that to Shayla because she had broken out in a cold sweat the moment she stepped outside. At the time, it had seemed like the only choice.

  She wasn’t meant to have been so attracted to him. Not just on a physical level—that man was created by god with the singular intent of attracting every person who ever wanted to have sex with a man ever—but on an emotional and intellectual one.

  They’d had such a good talk. They’d exchanged so many ideas, and laughed at so many jokes. And then he’d kissed her, and her entire world has spun. God, what a kiss. It was like his lips had been sculpted to fit perfectly with hers. There wasn’t a bone in her body that hadn’t ached for him afterward. She’d barely managed to walk to the bathroom, her legs shaky, her core molten, her body missing him with every step.

  But it should never have been like that. It was supposed to be a quick, hot fuck. And yet she’d already started thinking about how she wanted to get to know him better, and how great it would be to experience some of the things he undoubtedly had experienced. But she was fairly certain he was not thinking the same way. The hard and insistent bulge against her hip had made that abundantly clear.

  Or maybe it was just all in her head.

  Anyway, bungee jumping into Luke’s arms suddenly didn’t seem like such a fun idea anymore. It had gone from delightfully terrifying to actually frightening in the space of a kiss. A kiss that had rocked her so completely that she would probably never have another one quite so good.

  So, scared out of her wits, Shayla had done the mature thing, of course, and had snuck out of the back door.

  Her heels clicking along the pavement, she took back roads to avoid coming face to face with him once he’d figured it out. It didn’t take long for Shayla to regret her decision. Not just because she knew it was another twenty minutes to her apartment, but because she was being stupid. She couldn’t assume how he felt just because of one kiss. Maybe he did want to get to know her better, too. It was unlikely, but she should have at least asked.

  And anyway, when was the last time she got laid? Surely a little hot biker sex, no matter the emotional attachment it would inevitably form, was exactly what she needed. She should have been thinking with her body tonight, not her head. Her head was never any fun.

  And now she was alone, embarrassed, turned on, and freezing cold.

  What a great trade off.

  Shayla sighed and continued her trek, thinking about all the ways she could have handled tonight better. There were so many of them. She felt horrible. What kind of person just abandoned their date—or whatever she and Luke had been—in a bar like that without saying anything?

  She considered going back, but it was too late now. No doubt he would have noticed her missing, and there was no coming back from that. She was way too ashamed to face him. The way she figured it, her blazer was collateral damage. Of course, since she’d only accumulated two on her meager stipend, the next work week would get very interesting. She’d figure something out.

  It was a long walk, made even longer by her endless self-castration. When she finally got home, she headed straight to her bedroom with an exhausted sigh, stripping off along the way.

  She glanced at the clock and, seeing that it was nearly two a.m., let out another sigh. She wondered what work would be like tomorrow. Would everyone just forget that, for a minute, she’d been an actual reporter? Would they still throw endless demands her way and expect her to bend over backward to meet them, or would that be someone else’s job now?

  She smiled, remembering Luke saying they could have been a good team. Yeah, they could have. Maybe not on the news front, because if she had to cover another lost cat story she’d lose it, but she had several other ideas floating around in her brain for human interest pieces that he’d slot into quite nicely.

  Too bad she’d never see him again.

  Collapsing onto the bed, Shayla immediately succumbed to sleep. She wasn’t the kind of tired out she had thought she would be at the beginning of the evening, but she sure as shit was tired.

  ***

  “Let me just make sure I’m hearing this right,” said Meg. “You had the chance to sleep with that big biker dude, and y
ou didn’t?”

  Shayla nodded. “I know. Pretty dumb, right?”

  The brunette shook her head, her eyes bright. “No, I think you did the right thing.”

  “Really?”

  Meg’s head bobbed with enthusiasm. “Oh yeah. Now I can sleep with him and not feel bad.”

  Shayla laughed. As if Meg would have sworn off a guy that hot because of some sort of perceived claim that Shayla had. It wasn’t like she and Meg had ever been close. The girl was only talking to her now because she’d seen Shayla leave with Luke the night before and wanted details.

  Nonetheless, it was still nice to have someone to talk to. Shayla still hadn’t heard from Naomi, but it was the weekend anchors tonight, so she hadn’t really expected to. Dave and Diane normally did beat reporting during the week, but they worked the weekend anchor slots. They were more humble than Anthony, and thus easier to work around. At least neither of them had ever yelled at Shayla. Diane had once thrown a hissy fit because of something Meg did, but Meg was unpopular with lots of people on set.

  Shayla assumed it was because of her brash and intrusive personality. At least, that’s what she was experiencing at the moment.

  “Do you think he’s the kind of guy who pretends he’s going for one thing and then tries to cram it into your butt at the last second? I hate guys who do that. I’m as up for anal as the next millennial girl, but lube exists for a reason.”

  Shayla cringed. “I don’t know the answer to that, Meg, and I can’t say I really want to.”

  Meg shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

  “Hey!” Shayla said, feeling suddenly territorial. “I didn’t say I wasn’t going to see him again. I just got a bit freaked out last night. I’ve been thinking about it a lot though.”

  Meg looked chastened.

  “Anyway, it’s a bit of a moot point,” Shayla said with a sigh. “Neither of us have anyway of contacting him.”

  Meg shook her head and leaned in closer to Shayla, almost bending in half over her desk. “Don’t you remember? He called in. We’ll have his number saved in our records.”

  Shayla’s eyebrows rose, and she tried to choke back the growing sense of possibility. “I didn’t think of that. But won’t there be some sort of privacy law or something? You know, like wouldn’t it be illegal for me to just go swipe his number for my personal use?” She frowned. “The phone lines are Mike’s responsibility, right? I doubt he’d be willing to just to give up a number for me so I could call the swoon worthy biker guy.”

  A devious grin rose across Meg’s face. “I can get the phone number.” She winked. “But it’s going to cost you.”

  “What would you want in return?”

  Meg mulled it over. “Get me one of his hot friends or something.”

  Shayla doubted that would be difficult, considering Meg was gorgeous. “Sure. I’ll do my best. How do you plan on getting Mike to bend the rules for you, though? I’m curious.”

  Meg bent forward for a moment, reaching her hands into her bra to pull her boobs up to their full advantage, cleavage on full display. “I’m sure I’ll come up with something.”

  Shayla laughed. Weekends were always a bit boring, so having the entertainment was nice. Though she began to fret about what she would do when she had the phone number in her possession. Would she actually use it? What if he just laughed at her? What if he said something really mean?

  She would probably deserve it if he did.

  Still, Shayla’s good old friend anxiety reared its ugly head, filling her with self-doubt. Maybe this feeling of being hung up on him and wanting to call him was just a temporary thing. For all Shayla knew, she could wake up in the morning and feel completely different. What if she didn’t even want him anymore? What if she made a fool out of herself today, only to feel ashamed about it in the morning?

  She tracked Meg’s progress across the room, watching as she slipped down the side hallway. Not before giving Shayla a good natured thumbs up, of course. It seemed like Meg lived for this kind of thing. What an interesting girl.

  While Shayla waited, she formed a plan. She would wait until the morning to call Luke. It was late already, anyway. What if she called and he was out with another girl? The jealousy she’d felt last night over the waitresses at the restaurant and the bar would be nothing compared to the kind of jealousy she’d feel after hearing some girl giggling within earshot while he told her to get stuffed.

  The morning was better.

  Shayla must have zoned out, because the next moment she was startled back into the real world by Amy stepping into her view. “Great work last night.”

  Shayla blinked. Praise. How did one react to praise? She hadn’t had to do so in a very long time.

  “Uh, thanks.”

  Solid effort.

  “That Luke guy was interesting,” Amy continued. “You guys had a good chemistry. I want to do a follow up.”

  Shayla’s mouth went dry. “I’m not sure that will be a good idea…”

  “Which is why it’s a good thing you’re not a producer, isn’t it?” Amy’s smile was all sunshine and roses, but her eyes were spears.

  “Right. Of course.”

  Amy walked away before Shayla had a chance to gather enough words to explain why Luke Cinders, after last night, might not want anything to do with the station anymore. It was probably best for her to wait and see if he rejected her again before she pulled out that little nugget. She doubted anyone at the station would ever commend her again if she’d lost them a story—however insignificant—by being a flailing idiot and clueless coward.

  Shayla looked over to the hallway where Meg had disappeared, now more than a little desperate to get Luke’s number. She would still wait until the morning—the jealousy factor still ticked at the back of her head—but she would definitely call. If only to apologize for the way she acted, in the hopes that he would forgive her enough to do another story for the station.

  It would be a special bonus if he decided to give her another shot. If that’s what she wanted in the morning, anyway.

  Meg rounded the corner with a big grin on her face, waving a scrap of paper. She sauntered up to Shayla’s desk and slid it toward her. “I like them tall and tattooed, but I don’t like beards.”

  “I’ll do my best.”

  “If there isn’t a no-beard option, I’ll take the beard.”

  Despite what Meg thought, Shayla doubted Luke’s pool of friends would be a buffet. Still, the girl had done her a solid. She would do what she could to pay her back for it.

  The rest of Shayla’s shift seemed to drag by. At Amy’s behest, she drafted up a few potential interview questions for what Amy called “The Tearful Reunion.” Shayla doubted there would be a reunion, and if there was one there definitely wouldn’t be tears involved.

  Unless Luke made someone cry. That was more likely than anyone or anything making him cry. She mused that the day she saw Luke cry would undoubtedly signify the end of days. Fire and brimstone would rain down from the heavens. The seas would flood the Earth. Nicholas Cage would turn down a movie role.

  Still, Shayla was a good little media drone. She did her work without complaints or talking back. And, when she got home that night, she stuck the piece of paper with Luke’s number on it to the fridge and stared at it.

  She stared at it for way too long. An embarrassing amount of time.

  Shayla finally hauled herself up from her kitchen table when her eyelids began to droop, staggering toward her bedroom with tired eyes but a buzzing brain. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to sleep. Too much excitement. She hadn’t been this nervous since she’d approached the platform of her bungee jump.

  All that was left was to fall.

  Chapter Ten

  Considering Luke had never had a girl ditch him on a date before, he wasn’t sure whether he was supposed to go after her or not. He’d been tempted to. His cock had begged him to. But the idea of cruising around the neighborhood, looking for Shayla like she wa
s a lost dog, was too creepy and demeaning for Luke to get on board with.

  So he stuck her blazer in his saddlebag and sped home, letting the wind cool him down. He might not have been able to get her off his mind, but at least the cold air got his cock to get with the program. He wasn’t getting laid tonight. More importantly, he’d lost Shayla.

  And he fucking hated that.

  If it had been any other girl, he would have just stayed at the bar and picked up a new one. No one girl was special enough that he wouldn’t be able to replace her. That’s what he’d thought before meeting Shayla, anyway. And now the thought of cheaply indulging in another brand left a bad taste in his mouth.