by Brook Wilder
“What was that?” she asked, her voice roughened from sleep and so sexy it had his already half hard erection tightening painfully. He realized he could get used to hearing that voice first thing in the morning and something about that thought scared the hell out of him.
Joel got to his feet, unembarrassed by his nudity, and glanced at the clock. It was still several hours shy of morning. They’d only slept for a few hours and he cursed himself for getting so distracted by her that he forgot the plan he’d set into action after Carla had notified them about the police investigation.
“Joel, I need to talk to you,” it was Hot Wheels’s voice and she shouted through the closed door of the studio apartment before banging on it again.
“I’m coming! Jesus, hold the fuck on,” he yelled back, walking towards the door nonchalantly. He cast a glance back at Carla, opening his mouth to tease her about getting some clothes on but stopped at the sight of her. Her pale skin was flushed the prettiest pink from her cheeks all the way down her long neck and onto her chest where she had the sheet pulled up to cover herself. He wondered briefly if that blush continued any lower, instantly cursing himself for the wayward thought as his erection bobbed once more, more than happy to find out the answer to that question.
Resolutely, he turned away, ignoring her wide eyed gaze burning between his shoulder blades and walked to the door. He grasped the handle and pulled it open just enough to see Hot Wheels standing there with a giant grin on her face, but still keeping Carla, and most of himself hidden.
“What do you have?” he asked, all business despite Wheels’s smirk as she leaned forward, trying to peak into the room. “Well?” he asked again, and she turned back to him, slightly more serious.
“I got a hold of my contact, Sparkplug.” Joel raised an eyebrow at the moniker but let her continue without interrupting. “He says he can set up a deal with some local groups in Utah. He said he could get it done in a week.”
This time Joel did interrupt, whistling through his teeth, impressed despite himself. It would have taken them at least another month to move the weed.
“What’s his price?” he asked, already dreading the answer and Hot Wheels’s guilty expression confirmed his worse fears.
“Less than half,” she finally said.
“Fuck!” Less than half of what they had expected to turn it for themselves. That’s why they usually cut out the middle man, but this time they didn’t have a choice. “Fine. Set it up. Let’s get this thing moving. Fast.”
“Okay. I’ll contact him agi–”
“Hey, hey. Boss!” Viper’s nasal tones interrupted Hot Wheels and he shouldered his way past her, forcing the door open enough to reveal Carla, who still sat frozen in the middle of the bed. But now she was turning virulent hot pink color and all of Joel’s possessive instincts fired at the lascivious look Viper sent her way.
Joel grabbed Viper’s shoulder, shoving them both back out of the room and sent the man a glare that made him cringe.
“What?” he snapped, and then took a deep breath, trying to regulate his racing heartbeat.
“It’s just, we’re getting ready to move the shipment, you know, to a more discreet location. You said you wanted to go with,” Viper said, his voice now just as cringing as his posture.
“Good work, Viper. I’ll be ready in five.” Joel slapped him as good naturedly on the shoulder as he could but Viper still flinched. Perhaps it was a little harder than it needed to be. After Joel had finally succeeded in shooing both Hot Wheels and Viper away, the whole time rolling his eyes at their curious glances and smirks, he shut the door and turned around with a sigh. His gaze landed on Carla’s and the lust that had been banked for a moment roared back to life like a wild fire.
It was strange to him, just how intensely she affected him. It was more than he could remember feeling for any woman recently. The endless parade of biker groupies and club girls had started to get old but Carla was something altogether…different. For one thing, the girls that hung around the club wouldn’t be blushing bright enough to shame a sunset at the tiny peek Viper had gotten of her sheet-covered body.
His fists clenched unconsciously as something else, new and unwanted, flooded through him. Jealousy. He shook it off as he walked back towards the bed, grabbing his jeans and a shirt along the way. By the time he reached her, he had the pants on but still unbuttoned and he slowed his movements, loving the way her gaze brightened with desire, no longer filled with embarrassment but just pure lust.
On impulse he leaned down, giving her a quick kiss that threatened to turn into something more, much more, but he knew if he let that happen he wouldn’t be leaving his apartment anytime soon and he reluctantly pulled back. He had a job to do. They needed to get this weed out of their hands, and it was too big of a risk for him not to be involved in every aspect.
“I’ll be back in a couple hours. Make yourself at home here.” He stood up, “don’t leave until I get back.” The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them and he turned away. He didn’t have any answers to the questions that had fired in her blue eyes. As he walked out of the door, he wished to hell he did.
***
Carla waited until the door shut behind him to exhale the breath that had been pent up since that scorching kiss and flopped back on the bed. Her emotions were so tangled up she couldn’t even begin to sort one from the other. Wonder, desire, confusion, and trepidation all threatened to overwhelm her as her thoughts tumbled through her head.
It was just lust, right? It was just a one night stand.
But then why did she feel like it was something more? Or that it could be? She fought the thoughts back.
It was just one night, she scolded her wayward imagination before it could get off the rails completely. Nothing more, nothing less. He’d told her so himself.
But then what explained the butterflies that whirled through her stomach?
Nothing, she thought. I’m probably just…hungry. Yeah, hungry. That’s it. She mentally snorted at herself but threw back the covers, hastily throwing on the dress and jacket from the night before.
She looked around his Spartan apartment, able to see it now fully with the lights on, and without the blindfold, and it gave her another view into the enigmatic man that was the second in command of the Dirty Cruisers. There was a softness there, riding along all the edged, that surprised her.
With a sigh, she headed out of the room and out to the main bar. It was completely empty, the early hours found most of the men passed out in their own beds, or someone else’s. She was startled to see Honey still behind the bar, wiping down glasses and restocking for whatever the day would bring. Likely more thirsty bikers.
“Honey, do you ever sleep?” she asked as she slid onto one of stools in front of the worn bar. He shot her a haggard smile.
“Not as often as I’d like. It’s almost four in the morning and the last customers just left about a half hour ago. We’re a late night crowd.” He gave a wink, “I’ll hit the hay soon, sleep until noon, and then do it all over again. But maybe I don’t have to sleep alone?” he added at the end, so casually that Carla almost missed it.
She snorted a laugh, slapping him none too lightly on the arm.
“I thought I told you to knock that off.”
“You did, but a man can always hope,” he grinned at her unrepentantly and it was impossible not to match his infectious smile. “Speaking of hope, tell me more about your friend, the gorgeous prissy blond with the stick up her ass.” His grin twisted crookedly around the words and his melting brown eyes fired with a mix of anger and desire.
“Elle is a very good friend of mind, and she’s off limits, Honey. She’s not your type, anyways.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means she’s…nice,” Carla finally answered, “And she has standards. High standards.”
“Nice,” Honey snorted, staring intently at the same glass he’d been cleaning since he had brought up
Elle, “Nice is overrated. And I have standards too, you know.”
“Uh huh. I’ve seen the girls that throw themselves at you. I’d say those standards only encompass one thing, and that one thing is whether or not they’re female.”
“Two actually,” he said, with a guilty grin, “female and willing.”
“Right. Like I said, Elle is nice. And inexperienced. So just stop whatever lascivious thoughts you have right now because it’s not gonna happen.”
“We’ll just see about that,” he said, determination now lighting his gaze before he turned it back towards her with a glimmer of mischief. “So, you and Joel, huh?”
“There is no ‘me and Joel’.” Even as she said the words though, she had to wonder.
“I don’t know, I saw the way he looked at you. It’s…different.”
“Well, according to him, it’s not.” Carla suddenly didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and stood quickly, “Listen, I’m going to go back to bed. Joel’s not going to be back for hours and I’m exhausted.”
“I’m sure you are, sweetheart,” Honey teased with a laugh and Carla sent him a mock glare as she walked out of the large bar and towards the back of the building where Joel’s apartment was. She opened the door and closed it behind her with a thud, wondering why she suddenly felt like crying and blamed it on everything that had happened earlier with Maurice. Yeah, that was it. Nothing at all to do with Joel.
She slipped off the jacket and dress and sighed as she slid under the silk sheets. Joel’s scent, spicy and male, surrounded her instantly and she drifted off to sleep with images of him dancing through her head.
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BOOK 2 of the Dirty Cruisers MC series
RIDE ROUGH
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OTHER BOOKS BY BROOK WILDER
GHOST RIDERS MC
BOUGHT
SHACKLED
DIRTY CRUISERS MC
RIDE HARD
RIDE ROUGH
RIDE WILD
RIDE FREE
RIDE DEEP
RIDE HOME
CONTARINI CRIME FAMILY
CLAIMED BY THE DON
CHAINED BY THE DON
BOUND BY THE DON
BROKEN HOUNDS MC
RENEGADE
REVENGE
