Ranger: A Motorcycle Club Romance (Cold Angels MC) (Bad Boy Bikers Club Book 4)

by Naomi West

  “Because …” I said. “Because I’m extremely ticklish.”

  I braced for what was undoubtedly going to come next. A devilish expression appeared on his face for a moment before his head shot down to my midsection. He began covering my belly in fast kisses, letting out purposefully goofy growling sounds as he did.

  My body curled up instantly, peals of laughter shooting out of my mouth.

  “Ah!” I cried. “Cut it out!”

  “You don’t sound like someone who wants me to cut it out,” he said, kissing my stomach more and more. “You sound like someone who’s having a grand old fucking time.”

  “I’m not!” I yelled. “You’re making me feel crazy!”

  I tried to grab onto his head as he kissed me and push him away. But he kept right on at it. As intolerable as the kissing was, I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t love the feeling of his lips on my body.

  Finally, after he’d had his fun, he took his mouth off my belly.

  “Okay,” he said. “I think I’ve tortured you enough.”

  He came back up to my side, stopping and kissing my nipples as he did. They went hard right away, and part of me wanted to stop his head where it was and guide him down, down, down—I was already feeling like I could go for another round.

  But I decided to give him a little time to compose himself. Judging by the way his body had seized up as he came, I could tell that he’d given me quite a bit of what he had. So, I could let him take a few minutes to recover before I let him know I wanted a little more.

  Ranger laid on his back, his prick draped over his leg. Even flaccid, it was still fucking huge, its thickness totally tantalizing.

  “It’s not polite to stare, you know,” he said with a grin.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I can’t help it. It’s … um, really fucking big.”

  I reached down and took it into my hands, lifting it up and letting it fall onto his leg with a meaty thwack. I couldn’t help but lick my lips as I looked his cock up and down. Not only was it long and thick, it was just damned gorgeous. Perfect in every way

  “It’s what I have to work with,” he said, the smirk still on his face.

  “Well, I just hope none of your ex-girlfriends have been on the petite side,” I said. “Something like that would split them in two.”

  “No complaints so far,” he said. But I gotta admit, I’m not much of a ‘girlfriend’ type.”

  “Is that right?” I asked.

  “Yup,” he said. “Never really had the time for ’em. My life is the Cold Angels, and seeing a woman would take away from that.”

  Well, that answered the question of whether or not Ranger was going to make an honest woman out of me. Then again, I didn’t even think that was what I wanted. I’d only known the guy for a day, after all. And he was a freaking biker outlaw.

  “What about you?” he asked. “I bet you’re beating the fucking dudes off with a stick. You must have all sorts of guys on YouTube trying to get into those panties of yours.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “But not in the way you might be thinking. I get hit on all the time by total creeps online.”

  “Oh yeah?” he asked. “How many dick pics you get sent on a daily basis?”

  I let out a snort of disgust.

  “More than you’d even want to guess,” I said. “And as far as boyfriends … I don’t know.”

  My eyes drifted over to my little computer setup in the corner of my bedroom, the spot where I’d spent so many hours over the last couple of years playing and practicing and recording.

  “That’s been my life,” I said, pointing to my computer. “Playing my songs and trying to find some kind of audience for them, trying to get my music out there. I don’t even care about romance and all that.”

  “Come on,” said Ranger. “You have to care a little. What else are you going to write your songs about?”

  “I’m not the kind of girl who writes about getting my heart broken,” I said. “I like to write about romances that I might have one day. Like, the perfect love.”

  “You mean you didn’t have any high school sweethearts or anything like that?”

  Now he was getting into rough territory.

  “I … didn’t really date much in high school,” I said.

  “You kidding?” he asked with a surprised tone. “You’re telling me that a gorgeous little thing like you didn’t have the captain of every damn sports team at his school trying to get with you?”

  “It wasn’t like that,” I said softly. “I didn’t really have a normal childhood. My parents died when I was a little girl, and I didn’t have any other family to stay with. So, I was in and out of homes all through my teenager years.”

  “Shit,” said Ranger. “I’m … sorry to hear that.”

  I nodded.

  “Thanks. And that’s what my guitar was all about. One of the kids at one of the state homes where I was ended up running off, left his guitar behind. So, I took it and taught myself. Gave me something to do, something to channel my loneliness into.”

  Ranger said nothing, his eyes fixed on me in an expression of total concentration.

  “Then when I finally graduated and made it out of the system, I took the little bit of money I’d saved up doing odd jobs and got an apartment. Picked up a few waiting gigs here and there and saved a little more money and bought my recording setup.”

  I shook my head.

  “I know it’s stupid to think that I can make it big,” I said. “The world’s full of girls who think they’re going to be the next big thing. But it’s all I can think to do.”

  Ranger slipped his arm around me and pulled me close and tight.

  “It’s not stupid,” he said. “Not at all. You’re talking to someone who was there to see you play last night. You’ve got a voice like a damn angel, and the face to match. I’m no producer or anything, but you’ve got what it takes written all over you.”

  His words were sweet, and little tears formed in my eyes as he spoke them. I quickly composed myself, not wanting to seem overly emotional.

  “Thanks,” I said. “I hope you’re right, because singing and playing’s all I can even think to do.”

  My eyes flicked down to Ranger’s cock.

  “Now,” I said. “Enough of that mushy crap.”

  I placed my hand on his cut pecs and moved it down slowly.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking I could go for round two.”

  He grinned.

  “I like the way you think, little lady,” he said.

  He leaned in for a kiss, but right before our lips touched a sound in the other room crashed through the air.

  We both looked at each other and shot up straight.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Don’t know,” he said. “But it can’t be good.”

  My heart began to race and a thin layer of tense sweat formed on my brow.

  “Here’s the deal,” said Ranger, holding up his hand in front of me. “I’m gonna go out there and see what the hell the noise was. And you’re going to stay put. Get your clothes on now and if I give the word, I want you to run as fast as you fucking can out of that window.”

  He pointed to my bedroom window. There was a fire escape, and I could make a quick exit if I needed to.

  “What about you?” I asked.

  “Don’t fucking worry about me,” he said. “I can handle myself. But you remember where the bar was last night?”

  I closed my eyes for a moment and pictured it in my mind, name and all.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I do.”

  “Anything happens to me, you get your ass back there. Tell the man behind the bar that you’re with Ranger, and he sent you to talk to Dakota about keeping you safe. Got it?”

  “But—”

  “Got it?”

  I nodded.

  “Got it.”

  “Good.”

  Ranger hopped off the bed and shoved his hand into the pile
of clothes on the ground. He moved his hand around until he took out his Glock.

  Despite what I’d seen last night, guns and violence were still enough to make me feel on edge. The idea of a gunfight breaking out in my apartment made my body tense up with fear.

  Ranger made his way slowly towards the bedroom door, still as naked as the day he was born.

  “Clothes!” I whispered.

  “No time!” he whispered back.

  And with that, he opened the door slowly and stepped out, ready to face whatever was on the other side.

  14

  Ranger

  I felt a little silly going out there bare-ass naked, but I wasn’t going to waste even a second getting my jeans on. Someone was out there, and I wanted to find out who as fast as I fucking could.

  I took deep, slow breath after deep, slow breath. Adrenaline could help in a fistfight, but in a situation like this it had a tendency to make you skittish and your aim sloppy. I’d been in enough gunfights to know how to handle myself.

  I stepped slowly and quietly, my feet landing on the floor with silent steps. Part of me hoped that it had just been her stupid cat knocking a glass over, but any hope of that disappeared when I turned the hallway corner and saw a man in the living room.

  He was dressed in leather and a sleeveless white undershirt along with a pair of black and white sneakers. On his face were a surgical mask and a pair of sunglasses, which made it impossible to figure out who he was. His hair was shaved short, a buzzed horseshoe of balding hair on top of his head.

  I might not have known who he was, but there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that he was not there for any good reason. I watched him from a distance for a few moments as he went through Cassie’s things, opening up drawers and rifling through papers. He must’ve figured that if he broke in during the day, the odds were better of the apartment being empty.

  Bad fucking call.

  I felt calm and steady and ready to act. Only one problem—though I wanted to just pop this guy from my spot and end it here, I knew that if I killed him he’d only be the first of many more.

  No, I needed to find some way to take him down without killing him. I needed to question the miserable fuck.

  I stepped slowly towards him, waiting until his back was to me before moving in. There was a gun in his hand, so I knew I needed to take him down before he could use it.

  Closer and closer I moved towards him. Soon I was only a few feet away, close enough to grab him from behind and bring him down with a chokehold.

  So, of course, that was the moment the fucking cat decided to run over my feet, letting out a bright meow as it did.

  “Huh?”

  The man spun around on his feet towards the sound of the cat. At first he didn’t notice me crouched down behind him. But as soon as he did, his eyes went wide and he raised the gun down at me.

  So much for a silent takedown.

  I bum-rushed the fucker, slamming into him hard. His gun popped off a shot in his hand, the bullet flying harmlessly into couch behind me with a soft thud.

  I pulled my hand back and drove it right into his gut, all the air rushing out from his lungs with a loud whoosh.

  “Fuck!” he cried out.

  The asshole was stronger than I was expecting. I tried to get him into a restraining hold that would allow me to choke him into submission, but he fought me off with every last bit of strength he had. As I grappled with the fucker, I began to regret not putting on even a pair of pants—if he wanted to fight dirty he could go right for the family jewels.

  He pulled his elbow forward and drove it back into my gut, hitting hard enough for me to lose my grip on him. Once he was free, he scrambled over to the open kitchen, raised his gun, and prepared to shoot.

  Shit.

  I went on instinct. My gun still in my hand, I pointed it up at him as quickly as I could and fired a round. I knew as I did it that I risked killing the fucker dead, but now it was about self-defense.

  My gun went off with a bang and the man let out a cry of pain. The gun fell from his hand and landed on the floor with a clatter.

  I didn’t waste any time. I rushed towards the guy, pulling my fist back as I moved and throwing a hard punch. My fist connected with his jaw and sent him flying back, his head slamming into the fridge behind him. The blow was enough to stagger him, and I quickly moved to put him in the restraining hold I’d intended from the beginning.

  Once I was on top of him, I assessed the damage. The shot had hit him right in the shoulder. It was in-and-out—a perfect, clean shot that had been enough to take him out of the fight but not bad enough that he’d die from it.

  My knees on his chest, I called out for Cassie.

  “Hey!” I shouted. “It’s safe! Get in here!”

  I heard a door open, followed by soft footsteps. A glance over my shoulder revealed that Cassie was right behind me. And unlike me, she’d done the smart thing and gotten dressed.

  “Oh my God,” she said, looking over the scene.

  I had to imagine how fucking strange it must look to her—some buck-naked biker pinning down another.

  “Is he dead?” she asked.

  “Nope,” I said. “But I need some shit to tie him up with. You got anything in your closet?”

  “Um, um,” she said, clearly trying to get her mind wrapped around the situation.

  “Come on!” I shouted. “Anything!”

  I didn’t like yelling at the girl, but this situation needed to be handled right fucking quick.

  “I’ll look!” she shouted before running off.

  I took a look at the guy underneath me. His upper right shoulder was slick with blood, the red spreading through his white undershirt.

  “Might as well see who the fuck you are,” I said.

  I grabbed his sunglasses, took them off his face, and tossed them behind me. Next, I took off his mask. He was no one I knew by name, but I recognized him from the bar last night.

  He was a Heretic. A low-level one, most likely, but a Heretic nonetheless.

  “What’s your name?” I barked.

  “My name?” he asked groggily. “My name’s ‘fuck you’.”

  I wanted to slug the fucker right in the face for that one, but I needed to keep him conscious.

  “Is nylon rope okay?” I heard Cassie call out from the other side of the apartment.

  “Perfect!” I shouted back.

  “Come on, asshole,” I said, getting up and grabbing the fucker by his wounded arm.

  He let out a cry of pain as I brought him to his feet.

  “Ah, shut up, you fucking baby,” I said. “You’re lucky I don’t rip that arm off for what you did.”

  Cassie came back into the room with an armful of rope, the kind you’d use to tie something to the top of your car.

  “Put that chair over here,” I said, nodding to one of the kitchen chairs.

  Cassie nodded and did it. Once the chair was in front of me, I dropped the man down onto it. As quickly as I could, I got him tied up, his arms and legs bound to the chair.

  I stood in front of him and he looked up at me with a dazed, glassy-eyed expression.

  Gun in hand, I raised it to his face.

  “Now,” I said. “I hope you’re ready to fucking talk.”

  He stared back at me hard.

  It was time for some answers.

  15

  Cassie

  “Uh, Ranger?”

  I hated to kill the mood and cut into Ranger’s attempt to intimidate the hell out of this guy. Part of me wanted to do nothing and let him do what he wanted to do.

  But there was his cock, hanging long and heavy between his legs. It had been weird enough to see him tumbling with the guy while totally naked, but this was almost too much. That didn’t mean, of course, that I didn’t enjoy seeing his gorgeous, tattooed, muscular body on full display.

  “What?” he asked, whipping his head around, a hard expression on his face.

  “Your, um,” I sa
id, one arm crossed, the hand on the other pointing to his cock.

  He glanced down and realized right away what I was referring to.

  “Shit,” he said, shaking his head. “Guess I got a little carried away with myself.”

  He snapped towards the bound-up man, the man’s eyes covered up with duct tape.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said. “Don’t say a word to this miserable fuck.”

  Ranger strode out of the room, and I couldn’t help but sneak a quick peek at his perfectly-shaped ass as he went into the bedroom.

  As soon as Ranger turned the corner, the tied-up man spoke.

  “You,” he said. “I know you’re in here.”

  At first I didn’t want to say anything, just like Ranger had said.

  “Don’t give me the fucking silent treatment; I can smell you in here,” he said.

  I couldn’t resist saying something.

  “What the hell do you want?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he said. “There you are. You need to listen to me, girlie—you’re in some serious shit.”

  “No kidding,” I said.

  “No,” he said. “You’ve got no fucking idea. You think it’s just me coming after you? Not a chance. Then entire fucking Heretics crew is thinking about nothing but you right now. Dozens of the hardest motherfuckers in the city are talking, right now, about how to get you in their hands.”

  “I’m not scared,” I said. “Especially if you’re the best they’ve got.”

  He let out a dismissive laugh.

  “You’d better be scared,” he said. “Because if you think the Cold Angels are going to be able to keep you safe then you’ve got another thing coming. See, I’m just the start. I’m not even supposed to be here—I decided to go against the boss’ orders and see if I could bring you to them on a silver platter. I happened to find out where you live and made a move.”

  “Why do they want me so badly?” I asked. “Is it just because … I saw what I did?”

  A sick grin formed on his face.

  “Not just because of that,” he said. “Sure, the Heretics don’t want some girl wandering around the city who witnessed a murder, but there’s much more going on than that.”