by Lynn Burke
A longing for, yet repulsion by any type of intimacy with a man, swirled in my stomach.
The man who gave me the sweatshirt, though, he didn’t turn my stomach. I took to sleeping with that piece of clothing, the fading scent of licorice more a soothing balm than turn on.
“She’s a part of this family now,” Ryker finally said, and my mind jerked from hot biker guy to tears in a heartbeat.
Part of their family... My throat tightened.
Pia eyed him in silence a few moments longer. “If she works at the shop, she’ll know Viper business.”
Ryker turned toward me while chewing another bite, his cold gaze not bothering me as much as it used to as he seemed to peer inside me like Pia did. “There’s a party at the club this weekend. Want to go?”
We’d be surrounded by big, bad bikers, beer, and loud music—probably. Ryker’s brothers I trusted with my life since he’d said their president put me under their protection. Did I want to see the rest of the family he claimed I belonged to … and Devil, the hot one I couldn’t get out of my head, especially while laying in bed at night?
“Hell, yeah,” I said, unable to keep from grinning.
Ryker nodded. “The shop’s office is a hell hole, just warning you,” he muttered, going back to our earlier conversation, “but I’ll pay you cash under the table.”
“I want you to withhold money every week until I pay you back for the clothes and stuff,” I said, snagging another eyebrow raise.
“Sure thing, little birdie,” he said. “If that’s what you want.”
My smile widened as he stuck his hand out across the table. His calloused hand gripped mine as we agreed old-school style.
I had a job—and a biker party to look forward to.
****
Saturday late afternoon, we drove in Ryker’s truck over to the club, the potato salad and brownies Pia and I had made as our contributions to the cookout on the back seat beside me.
Although late September, an Indian summer lingered, leaving me free to wear short sleeves with my skinny jeans. Flip flops were out for the season, unfortunately, so I opted for the Harley boots Ryker insisted I would need as part of the Viper family.
Excitement churned my stomach in a good way, and my palms sweated while gripping the plate of brownies, but I couldn’t keep from smiling as we walked behind the club and across the compound to a large grassy area.
Smoke from two huge grills wafted by on the warm breeze, making my mouth water. Music blasted from a kickass Bose system, and although no drunk chicks danced—yet—a dozen or so little kids ran around screaming, playing what appeared to be tag.
That, I hadn’t expected, even though I expected some of the Vipers must be married with spawn. The Vipers weren’t just an outlaw club, they were real families with kids and dogs even, drinking lemonade and eating burgers and dogs like a normal Fourth of July party.
A tingle raced up my spine, raising the hairs on my neck as I set the brownies on the dessert table a woman named Shaun had pointed to when Pia asked where we ought to put the food. I glanced over my shoulder while wiping my still damp palms down my jeans.
Licorice man, Devil, stood with a few other men on the other end of the green. I felt his stare over the distance, even with people flitting through our line of vision. He had the type of heavy-hooded bedroom eyes women swooned over, amber brown and fathomless, the type that affected me in all the right—or wrong—places whether I wanted them to or not.
Ryker approached the group, and Devil ripped his focus off me, allowing me to draw air I hadn’t realized I’d withheld from my lungs.
That man dampened my panties with a mere meeting of our eyes, and my brow furrowed even as my heart raced, wishing for more of that connection. The look he’d given me combated with the memory of his gentle touch that night I’d shown up at the Vipers’ club.
I glanced over to find his focus glued to me once more. He watched me with unnerving intensity, like he wanted to tie me up and have his wicked way with me, age be damned. Rather than be freaked out as I should have been, all sorts of delicious shivers pebbled my skin at the thought of being bound and at his mercy.
Sick.
I cursed the fresh rush of dampness between my thighs.
I’m sick. Broken by that damn kidnapping and by Mr. Griffey.
Clenching my jaw, I turned away, ambling toward where Pia still spoke with Shaun. I tried to focus on pleasantries, doing adult-like shit, but couldn’t keep from glancing at Devil, covertly checking him out when he wasn’t facing me.
He knew how to wear a pair of jeans, snug to his ass rather than hanging off his hips like guys my age. I also liked the navy t-shirt stretched over his broad shoulders and tucked into his trim waist.
He wasn’t a hulk of a man like some of the other Vipers—especially the beast-like man on his opposite side from Ryker, but I appreciated his leaner physique. Ripped forearms veined and sexy as hell as he clutched a bottle of beer had my fingers wanting to explore.
I knew that night in bed I’d be thinking about those arms, those hands, while hugging his sweatshirt against my front, wishing I could still breathe in the scent of licorice and warmth.
That warmth lingered deep inside me, making me needy in a way I’d never known before. Butterflies erupted inside me when he turned his attention on me while Ryker spoke to him.
Caught drooling, I quickly turned away, that damn war of want and aversion going at it inside my head and heart.
Sick.
Chapter Four
Devil
“So far it’s shaping up to be way more than we can handle on our own,” I told Vigil, Ryker, and the other officers standing with me, the cold brew in my hand almost as distracting as Dasia standing on the other side of the lawn. “Too big an operation, too many crooked fingers in the pot.”
“Figured it would be,” Ricky muttered with his usual downer tone while the others stayed quiet.
“I’m going to keep digging,” I continued, fighting to keep my focus on Vigil rather than the gorgeous red-head across the lawn. “Pile up a shitload of evidence the FBI can’t seem to find on their own. It’s out there. I just got to find it all, make sure not a single fucker in the sex slave trade here in New England escapes unnoticed.”
“We’re definitely out of this one,” he said. ‘We’ve got too many old ladies and children around here that need protecting.”
Ryker grumbled something under his breath, catching Vigil’s glare as though he’d heard the words I hadn’t.
“I know it’s personal for you, having taken Dasia in,” Vigil told him, “but this time, we’re gonna have to let the law take it into their own hands.”
“I’d like to go after that Ivan fucker,” Ryker said, glancing toward where I could feel Dasia’s stare.
“Right there with ya,” I agreed and swigged my beer.
Ryker glanced at me. “She’s in my house,” he snipped. “My care. Under my protection. Might as well be my own fucking kid. If she wasn’t going to be eighteen in a couple of weeks, Pia would probably have us adopting her ass. She doesn’t need or want any sexual advances from a twisted fuck like you. Keep your goddamn paws off.”
“Yeah, I heard you the first time.”
We stared at one another while I swigged again, and tension rose from the brothers with us.
“The fuck is going on?” Vigil asked.
“Daddy-o here, thinks I’m going to talk Dasia into a little kink. Tie her up and fuck her ass raw.”
Ryker’s glare turned murderous, his shoulders hitching higher, but I knew he wouldn’t come after me with all the brothers around.
“See, thing is,” I grinned without taking my focus off his flushed face, “the girl makes me hard as fuck—but she’s only seventeen and off limits. While I’m fond as fuck of breaking the law when it comes to computers and extortion—” I flatlined my lips “—I’m not a dick. The last thing I want to do is hurt a young woman who’s been hurt enough already.”
A muscle in Ryker’s jaw twitched his beard.
“She might not want or need a fuck buddy right now, but I am going to be her friend if she’ll let me, Ryker,” I told him, dead fucking serious. “And if months down the road she decides she wants to be more, I’m sure as fuck going to give her whatever her little heart desires. She seems the type worth waiting for, and I’m not going to let you or any other Vipers stand in my way of getting my name tattooed over her heart if I can talk her sweet ass into letting me in.”
Our stare down lasted for a few more seconds before I clinked my bottle against his and sauntered off, having said my piece, stating my intentions, all but letting the boys know I wanted her—and planned to keep her, given the chance.
Ricky chuckled something about me being pussy whipped as I sauntered off, and even though I hadn’t gotten a taste of her, I had to agree.
Dasia caught sight of me, her face flushing when she noticed I headed straight toward her.
I half expected an arm to grab mine and spin me around—Ryker demanding I keep my distance, but he didn’t.
There was no question I unnerved the girl. She licked her lower lip, glancing toward Pia beside her, before turning toward me once more, shaking hands clasped in front of her. She offered a smile which also trembled, and I wondered over the internal struggle her eyes revealed taking place inside her head.
I expected she felt like damaged goods, full of fear and maybe even self-hatred, thinking her choices may have been what caused the shit that slammed into her life the previous couple of months.
Fuck knew I dealt with the same shit whenever memories managed to escape that prison I locked them up inside me.
I tried like fuck to keep the lust from my eyes while returning her smile and stopping a few feet away from her personal space that I expect she’d want.
“Hey,” she squeaked.
“How are you doing?” My voice came out a bit uneven, and I realized she affected me almost as much as I did her.
Her gorgeous tits rose high as she filled her lungs. “You making small talk or really want to know?” she asked with a rush before snapping her lips shut, her face turning even redder.
She gulped as my smile widened.
“Ryker said you’re taking classes at Stone’s dojo and starting work at the shop this coming week.”
“Yeah.” Dasia rubbed her palms down her jeans as I’d seen her do twice already since she’d dropped off a plate at the dessert table.
“Sounds as though outwardly you’re doing pretty well.”
“Mmm.” She nodded, flitting her focus over to Pia who stood chatting with Shaun a few feet away.
“Ryker told me what happened.”
She snapped her attention back to my face. “Yeah?”
I shoved my free hand in my jeans pocket. “Just wanted to tell you that if you ever need anything, I’ll be there for you, okay?”
“I sleep with your sweatshirt,” she blurted and grasped her cheeks. “Oh, God. I mean, I’ll give it back—I just really appreciated the gesture, is all.”
My lips twitched, drawing her focus to them. She jerked her attention back up quick as fuck, eyes slightly widened, pupils telling me all I needed to know.
Goddamn.
My dick attempted to swell, but I cleared my throat, determined to keep a tight rein on myself. “You can keep it.”
“Th-thanks,” she whispered, once more ripping her gaze off me to glance around the huge yard. “You guys do this often?” Her voice shook as she seemed desperate to change the topic.
“Not really, no. Just haven’t gotten together since our camping trip up to Maine earlier this summer.”
Pia turned enough to see me, and her attention shot toward where I’d left Ryker before returning to me, her smile unsure. “Devil,” she said, her voice in agreement with her lips.
“How are you feeling?” I asked, glancing down at her stomach.
“Not sick anymore—and ravenous for a burger.” She glanced at Dasia. “Ready to grab some food?”
Dasia nodded and offered me another shaky smile. “See you around.”
Her voice hinted at a question, so I nodded.
Better fucking believe it.
Chapter Five
Dasia
I followed along behind Pia and Shaun toward the smoking grills, having to quickly side step two little brats racing past at break-neck speed, their laughter and squeals quickly disappearing as we neared the Bose speakers.
My neck tingled, and I couldn’t help myself. I glanced over my shoulder to find Devil still standing where I’d left him, his lips twitching upward.
Caught gawking yet again, but I couldn’t help myself. He’d kept his distance while talking to me even though his eyes spoke volumes. The devil himself danced in the darkness of his twinkling eyes, but heat lingered beyond. As a stripper, I’d seen my fair share of lust, but he didn’t skeeve me out one bit.
Quite the opposite.
Panties a soaked mess and my pulse still thrumming, I turned away, my eyes still burning with the image of his perfect lips. Full bottom and the curve of the upper had snagged my attention a few times, embarrassing the hell out of me.
The man was hot as hell—and smelled fucking divine.
Sweet licorice still teased my nose. I’d wanted to lean in and sniff his neck, along his clean-shaven jaw. Hell, I wanted to bury my face against his skin and feel those veined arms wrap around me.
His sweatshirt would have to do, though.
I chowed down on a hotdog with ketchup—and got teased to hell from Shaun over that fact, but I hated mustard and relish with a passion. The three of us sat at a picnic table with another woman named Giada and two older women whose names I didn’t catch.
All old ladies, they called themselves, and the desire to belong as they did twisted my heart.
One of the older ladies asked Pia how she was feeling, and she replied as she’d told Devil about no longer feeling sick which I hadn’t paid attention to thanks to his close proximity.
That woman then turned to Shaun, asking the same question, and my focus dropped toward where Shaun held her hand to her lower belly.
“Never better.” Her face glowed as I jerked my attention back upward, my heart stalling out. “Stone painted the guest room this week—pale blue, almost a gray. It matches the bedding. I’m so excited.”
I missed the rest of whatever she said as I realized the truth of my situation. Ryker and Pia would be parents. They weren’t going to want an outsider bunking out in their guest room. I imagined them bringing home their baby to start a new life—and my being in the way.
Hurt and longing swept in like a Nor’easter, thickening my throat and tightening my chest until I felt the need to wheeze.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“Bathroom?” I managed to ask Pia while holding in my tears.
“They’re just inside the club’s back door over there,” she said, pointing across the green toward the biggest building inside the compound. “Want me to go with you?”
“No,” I rushed to answer, forcing a smile. “Be right back.”
I hopped up and made a beeline for the door she’d indicated, ignoring the groups of people I passed, intent on escaping to get hold of myself. Once locked inside the single toilet bathroom, I allowed a good pity cry for all of two minutes before wiping away my tears and using a damp paper towel to fix the mascara mess down my cheeks.
Eighteen was three weeks away, but I could always sneak off with my freedom. Nothing was holding me back—except for the idea that Ivan and his buddies might be looking for me.
What could I do? Without money, I couldn’t hop a bus for California. I could always hoof it, but the thought of sticking out my thumb and ending up in another container to be shipped off for a life of submission...
Nope. I would stick around for at least a little while, but I needed to make myself scarce before that baby came.
One big inhale and slow exhale, a
nd I grabbed the door, chin up and ready to face the world.
Devil leaned against the hallway’s wall across from the door, arms crossed, his brow furrowed as I pulled up short and his gaze took in my face. “You okay?”
I nodded and stepped into the hallway, letting the bathroom door shut behind me.
“Anything I can do to help?”
My attempted smile wobbled and I shook my head even while considering asking for a hug. God, I needed one. Seriously. At least, I thought I did. I’d never been in a man’s arms for comfort before.
Devil straightened, shoving his hands into his pockets in an endearing display of non-aggression or forwardness even though the look in his eyes betrayed his real thoughts.
“I’m going to find the fuckers who did this to you,” he said, his tone low, full of determination. “Make sure they’ll never hurt another young woman ever again.”
Devil didn’t even know me, and yet he took my well-being to heart. Because of being Ryker’s brother or because he wanted to get inside my pants?
“I hope you do,” I said, not sure I fully referred to his statement or the last question still lingering in my head.
His focus slid down to the arms I hadn’t realized I’d wrapped around myself, lingering on my chest long enough to pebble my nipples. He licked his lower lip once his gaze reached my eyes once more.
A shiver slid over my bare arms, raising goosebumps.
“Ryker told me to stay away from you.”
My eyebrows shot up. “What?”
His slow sexy smirk melted my panties. “He knows I think you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.”
Heat flooded my face. “O-oh. Thank you.”
“You’ve got balls most men would covet, too,” he said, and I bit back a light, shaky laugh. “I’m serious. You’re one hell of a woman, doing what you did to escape. Can’t say I’ve ever met such a strong person.” He shrugged, his eyes twinkling again as he tipped his head to the side. “Gotta admit to admiring you—just a bit.”
What should have sounded like a cheesy pick up line didn’t give me that impression at all, and God knows I’d heard my fair share at the two strip clubs I’d worked at.
