I look away fast, already feeling my face burning, but not before I’ve seen enough to be able to recreate his image in my mind’s eye.
He’s younger than me, much younger. There’s a cocky tilt to his head, dark hair flopping around his face in no particular style, and a worn leather cut that warns me to stay far away from him. He’s a biker, from one of those biker clubs that articles in the news often warn us about. But my eyes had remained on him long enough for me to wonder what I’d have done had I been a few years younger. My brief glimpse had shown me he was handsome and muscular, tall but not overly so, shorter than Beth but still much taller than me. About five foot nine or ten I’d estimate. I’m just five foot three.
Why the hell am I estimating our height difference?
Of course he wasn’t looking at me, or only critically. I’ve been a victim of his sort before.
“Yeah, Beth. This weekend.” I force myself to concentrate on the conversation going on around me. “What do you want me to make? Cupcakes? Muffins? Both?”
Beth’s tongue actually licks her lips in anticipation. “Both? Of course, you’re coming, aren’t you, Melissa?”
I shake my head. “You don’t want me around.”
They do try to include me in their activities, but the thing is, I’m not comfortable mixing with them outside of work. It’s not that I don’t get on with them, I do. We’re just interested in different things. Clothes, fashion and young men are not my scene. I’m sure one day they’ll realise I’m boring.
“Have you got anything better to do?” Her eyes narrow.
“Oh, don’t worry about me.” I wave my hand dismissively. “I’ll be busy.” I decide to keep quiet that I’ll be trying out a new recipe and looking at getting some wool for a knitting pattern I found online.
Used to me turning down any and all invitations, Beth just shakes her head, then grins. “One of these days we’ll drag you out into the land of the living, Melissa.”
I smile back, offering only a tentative, “Maybe.”
I may have only had one drink, but my bladder signals it needs emptying. Pushing back my chair, I stand, and make my way to the restrooms which are over in the direction of the bar. As I enter the small hallway, the door to the Men’s opens, and the biker I’d been admiring earlier steps out. Up close, he looks even younger than the age I had first pegged him.
We do that sort of awkward dance, him stepping to his left and me to the right at the same time, then laugh in embarrassment, and repeat it to the other side. He quickly tires of the game, putting his strong calloused hands against my biceps, and moving me to one side so he can get around me.
A zing of electricity goes through me at the touch of his warm hands, but it’s all too fast, and job done, he moves them away. Then, with a wink, he walks off.
I stay, for a moment needing the wall to support me, and my hand covers my heart which seems to be fluttering. Half of me wishes I was ten years younger, the other half acknowledges he wouldn’t have looked twice at me then, either. But, the demon sitting on my shoulder whispers into my ear, no one will know if I use him to fuel some fantasies when I’m using my vibrator later, and in my dreams, I can be any age, and any shape or size that I want. I could even be a woman who’d tempt a handsome biker.
I only take a few seconds to recover my equilibrium, then step into the Ladies and do what I came here for. After washing my hands and drying them, I prepare to reverse my steps through the crowded bar and return to my friends once again.
“Hey,” a voice interrupts as I exit the hallway. “After dancing together, I think we should at least exchange names.”
For the second time this evening, my face turns bright red, and I’m tempted to check behind me that there’s no one else there.
“I’m Skull.” His mouth turns up either side, and I’m subjected to the full force of his attractiveness, noticing the gleam of sin and temptation in his eyes.
“I’m too old to play games.” I come straight out with it. I’m not easy, and so far away from the type of person this man should hook up with, it’s too much of a joke to even consider. If he’s got mommy issues or fantasies, he can keep them.
“Whoa.” He holds up his hands. “Who said we were playing a game?”
“I do,” I say, firmly. “When a man speaks to a strange woman in a bar, it’s not to exchange views on the weather.” I might be a homebody, but I’m not naïve. “An approach out of the blue is usually taking the opportunity to flirt.”
His grin widens, and he shrugs. “What’s wrong with flirting?”
“Nothing. As long as it’s with someone the same age and in the same ballgame.”
“You saying you’re out of my league?” A frown appears.
“No,” I deny hastily, “I’m saying you’re out of mine. Why on earth would a handsome young man want to talk to an older woman like me?” I haven’t missed that we’re surrounded by many, more-suitable girls with a lot less years under their belt, pretty and airless, and who would probably love to take a ride on his bike.
“Handsome?” As he cocks an eyebrow, the grin comes back. “You think I’m handsome?”
“Whether I do or not isn’t the point. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to go back to my friends.”
He stares at me, his eyes softening slightly. Then his gaze goes toward our table, and his lips turn up in that devastating smile once again. “Okay, you do that. Nice to meet you, er…?”
“Melissa.” For the life of me, I don’t know why I told him.
“Melissa.” He tries it out.
Heaven help me, but my name falling from the lips of this sexy biker, almost in a reverent tone, does something to me. That session with my vibrator is definitely on the horizon when I’m by myself later, along with that fantasy that I’m twenty and nothing more than a size 0.
Knowing I need to get away before I make a fool of myself by grabbing hold of his leather vest and insisting he eases the arousal inside me by taking me outside, I stumble in the direction of where my friends are sitting.
“What was that all about?” Beth’s the one to ask, but not the only one staring wide-eyed between me and the man at the bar. “He a friend of yours?”
“I don’t know him from Adam,” I admit, my lips thinning, unable to stop my eyes returning to the man with the peculiar name. He appears to have lost all interest in me and is now deep in conversation with the bartender. Hmm. Probably ordering his next beer. Could well be a drunk as well as a biker, an overindulgence in alcohol would certainly offer an explanation for his strange behaviour. I frown, though I hadn’t noticed him unsteady in any way, it could be that I’d had a conversation with a drink and not a man. Only one inebriated would show the slightest interest in a woman like myself.
Beth grins. “I think he is now.”
“What?” I’ve lost the thread, obviously.
“A friend.” She nods at a heavily laden tray that’s being carried our way. From the concoctions upon it I can see it’s meant to be ours. Up to now we’ve all been buying our drinks on separate tabs.
“I can’t afford…” I start, as a fresh margarita is slid over the table toward me.
“Is it on the house?” Carter asks, optimistically.
I wait, hopefully for a positive but inexplicable answer, but my spirits fall when the waitress replies, “Nah, Skull sent them over.” She turns to nod at the man now watching from the bar so there can be no misunderstanding.
Beth nudges me. “Told you it was him, and he’s paid out for a full round. That doesn’t come cheap, girly. Think you must have made an impression.”
I glance around the table at the other workers from the government offices in town. Sian, she’s got Irish heritage and Celtic looks, and tonight is totally stunning wearing tight leggings and a latest fashion top. Her hair is cropped. Holly, sitting next to her, is her opposite in every way, fair complexion and blond hair which seems to glimmer in the overhead lights. Her brilliant blue eyes are sparkling as she
sips her free Sex on the Beach. I remember wondering whether she really likes it when she placed her order, or just wanted to try and make the bartender blush. Beth, striking, over six-foot-tall, is still in her twenties and lacks for nothing in the looks department. Then there’s Macey and Shayla, both pretty girls.
My lips press together as I wonder whether one of them had caught his attention. That seems more fitting. Try and befriend me to get an invite to the table, yes, that would make sense. The ones I doubt he’s got much interest in are Carter and Brice—the only men here—but then, nowadays you can never be certain.
Having decided he’s got his eye firmly fixed on one of the others, I’m not that concerned when Beth turns around and beckons him over to the table.
God, even the way he walks is sexy, his swaggering gait making his slim hips move side to side. His form fitting jeans and tight tee leave little about him to the imagination and make me suspect he’s got one of those delicious Vs leading down to his forbidden parts, the type in the pictures I sometimes swoon over when they’re posted in the online groups I frequent. As he draws closer, I see he’s got a small scar, a tiny white line parting his left eyebrow, intriguing rather than ugly.
“Ladies.” He raises his glass in salute, then, lifts his chin in acknowledgement of the two men for whom he’s also purchased drinks.
Carter imperceptibly stiffens and gives him a manly chin lift back. Brice, too, does likewise while pulling his shoulders straight. It’s as though they sense they’re in the presence of a superior masculine specimen.
Holly preens, her lips forming a pout, Sian’s eyes sharpen with interest.
Beth’s also gushing when she’s the one to use her voice. “Thank you.” Her hand points quickly to the drinks, some on the table, some already in hands. “This was very generous, er…?”
I glance up quickly, peering through my eyelashes, interested to see which of the women his eyes will zoom in on. I see his lips move, hear his voice, and it takes a moment for his words to filter through the jealousy that seems to have taken over my brain.
“Skull,” he offers, adding, “wasn’t anything at all. You’re Melissa’s friends.”
Chapter Two
Melissa
He said my name.
While I’m trying to process what he meant by his statement, taking care not to read more into it than it merits, Beth scoots her chair over, and the biker pulls up another and places it in the gap that’s appeared between hers and mine. As he sits, I glare at her, and receive an unapologetic shrug in return.
Skull takes a moment to look around the table, then grins. “You work together?”
“You can tell?” Macey queries, her eyebrow arched.
He chuckles. “It’s Friday night, the end of the work week. Six women and two men who don’t look to be in relationships with each other. Yeah, I deduced you share the same place of employment and are out to celebrate.”
Holly nods. “You’re right, and observant.”
“So, where do you work?” Skull’s words are spoken with a lazy confidence, showing no nervousness at having intruded in on a group of strangers, already sure of his welcome. But then he has just paid for an expensive round of drinks. Of course, everyone is going to be friendly.
“At the Clerk and Recorders office for Pueblo County.”
“Yeah? What do you do?” The first word was for Holly, but he even sounds interested as he pointedly directs the second question at me.
It would be rude to evade answering it. “I record land deeds. Nothing interesting.”
“Motor vehicle licenses,” Holly half raises her hand. It looks like she’s trying to regain his attention.
“Marriages, births and deaths,” Macey and Sian say together.
Beth chuckles. “I work with Melissa.”
Not to be left out, Carter indicates Brice and himself. “We clean up after everyone.”
“Yeah?” asks Skull. Then he adds with a chuckle, “I know a bit about clean up, myself.”
“What do you do?” Beth asks him, with a pointed look my way, clearly annoyed that I’m staying quiet.
“I work at our auto-shop and also turn my hand to a bit of this and that.”
It’s an odd answer, but I zip my mouth shut not wanting to show any interest or encourage him.
Brice finds his voice and starts asking about the type of bike Skull rides, and whether his club’s like Sons of Anarchy. I half-listen to the answers, and half ask myself why he’s sitting next to me. I keep sneaking sideways glances, but his attention doesn’t settle for long on anyone else, just briefly on the person who’s asked a question. Currently it’s Brice who’s querying the cc of his bike.
“Was an eight-eight-three, but I got it bored out to twelve hundred.” Skull pauses and shoots me a quick look. “I suppose I shouldn’t admit that to you lot.”
I raise and lower my shoulders. “It’s Friday night, we’re not at work.” And with the amount of alcohol the others have consumed, by Monday they’ll have forgotten.
“So, Melissa, do you like your job?”
Another shrug. “It’s a job. Boring like any other.”
“What do you like to do in your spare time?” He seems intent on dragging responses out of me.
I don’t even have to open my mouth to answer.
“She cooks,” informs Beth.
“Yeah?”
“Her cupcakes and muffins are to die for.” Brice smacks his lips. “Love Mondays after Melissa’s been cooking up a storm over the weekend.”
Now that’s going to put him off. Inwardly I roll my eyes.
I’m a thirty-four-year-old woman who tries everything that I bake. Well, someone’s got to taste test. I suppose eating nearly a whole tin full of muffins is a bit over the top, but it’s hard to stop. I know it’s turning my body into something resembling the things that I bake. When I wear anything with a waist, my stomach rolls out over the top.
I can’t complain about my life. I’m an only child with good parents who live up in Denver, and I try to visit when I can. I have my own small house, with dreams of eventually having a larger one with a big yard. Then I’ll get a dog, maybe a cat. They’d be good company.
Men? I’ve never had much luck with them and have decided I’m happy by myself. If I ever step into the relationship game, I want a man who wants me for my personality, not because I’d make a good unpaid housekeeper. Yes, I may have been there and done that with my one and only foray into living with a man, and it turned out a disaster. I’d gotten out fast, deciding I’d rather clean and cook for one. I don’t need a man to complete me, something I’ve learned over the years. My thoughts make me glance at Holly and Macey, seeing the hungry look in their eyes as they watch Skull speak. If their tongues start hanging out, I wouldn’t be surprised. One day, they’ll get taught that lesson too, I suspect.
Or maybe not. At least they’ve got something going for them which I haven’t. They’ve got the figures and looks that certainly broaden the pool they can fish in.
“Melissa, Skull asked you a question,” Beth chides.
“Oh? Sorry.” My face reddens again. It’s not like me to be so impolite.
“I asked if you’d like to go for a ride tomorrow?”
“A ride?” My voice squawks.
“Yeah, on my bike,” he explains as if I could misinterpret it in some way. Yeah, right, I was only just fantasising about another ride later on tonight.
But, me…on a motorcycle? My head automatically starts to shake. Impossible. “I’m sorry, I’ve got plans this weekend. Tomorrow I need to bake for Beth’s party on Sunday, and that day I’ll be tied up, as I’m going to the party myself.”
A snort comes from the other side of him, and Beth leans forward and twists her head so I can see the expression on her face, her wide eyes clearly signalling, what the fuck?
She’s quiet for just one moment, then she pipes up, her mouth forming a cocky grin. “Why don’t you come too, Skull? You’ve bought us dr
inks, it’s the least we can do to pay you back.”
Please be busy. Please.
Skull purses his lips, then pinches the brow of his nose. “Sunday, huh? Haven’t anything planned, so yes, that would be good Beth.”
“Chuck me your phone and I’ll put my number in it, then I can text you the address.”
My mind eases a little, and a small smile curves my lips at her audacity. She’s tricked him into giving her his number. I watch undisturbed as phones come out and ping as messages go between them. For a second I’m wistful, wishing it was my number he’d wanted instead, but knowing that would only lead to disappointment. Whatever reason he has for offering to take me for a ride on his bike was probably that he’d lost a bet. Someone like this biker could never be interested in an older woman, carrying too much weight.
My purse is lying on the table. It suddenly vibrates. Curious, I reach for it, and slide my phone out. My brow creases and I narrow my eyes and look to my side.
“I gave him yours too, just in case.” Beth sounds unrepentant.
Right now, I hate my co-worker.
Then I look down and read the text.
Skull: One day you’ll be riding behind me. That’s a promise.
I quickly shoot back.
Melissa: In your dreams.
Skull leans in. “I like women who play hard to get.”
Another phone pings the other side of the table, making me wonder if Beth had given him everyone’s number.
Holly starts getting her things together, stands and slips into her coat. “Right, that’s me. My brother’s waiting. You want a lift, Macey?”
The other girl nods and hurriedly gets up.
Satan’s Devils MC -Colorado Box Set: Books 4-6 Page 2
