“Looking a little lost there, Red,” a voice growls in my ear.
I whip around to find Brooks towering over me. The low light of the bar throws his features into stunning relief. Even the scar across his eyebrow looks perfect here. He’s like the rough-hewn work of a master sculptor...whose work I’m an avid fan of.
“I haven’t spent much time in biker bars,” I smile, planting my hands on my hips.
“You look right at home to me,” he observes. I swallow a gasp as he reaches out and runs a strong, well-worn hand down my bare arm, letting it come to rest on my hip. “Actually, fucking gorgeous is how you look.”
“I, uh...” I stammer, entranced by the heat of his hand against my bare skin.
“Now that you’re here,” he goes on, “I can give you the full MC experience. Ever been with an outlaw before?”
The word outlaw sends a jolt of reason through my lusty mind. “Can’t say that I have,” I reply coolly.
“I’d be happy to change that tonight,” he grins, sliding his hand around to the small of my back. I want to throw my arms around him and slug him all at once. Instead, I settle for an outraged look and a big step back.
“Does that work on most women?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“What?” he asks, casually shoving his hands into his pockets. He doesn’t seem at all deterred by my retreat.
“The mysterious bad boy thing,” I quip. “Does that get you a lot of tail?”
“You know the answer to that, Red,” he shoots back, pulling a cigarette from the pack in his pocket. “Does it intimidate you?”
“Why would I be intimidated by the amount of women you’ve slept with?” I ask.
“You’re not as experienced as I am,” he says. It’s an observation, not a question. “So what? Doesn’t mean we can’t have a good time together.”
“Why would you assume I want to sleep with you?” I ask heatedly.
“Because look,” he grins, lighting his smoke, “you brought it up first.”
My mouth moves soundlessly for a second before I can recover. “You’re used to getting what you want, aren’t you?” I demand.
“You could say that,” he replies, taking a deep drag of his Marlboro.
“Well then, let’s be clear,” I say, leveling my gaze at his gorgeous face, “you don’t get to have me just because you want me. I’m not a toy, Brooks.”
“Oh, I know that,” he says. “You can’t be a toy. Toys don’t want to be played with. You, on the other hand...”
“You’re just going to keep on assuming that I want you, then?” I ask, exasperated.
“Fuck yeah,” he grins, “because I know you do.”
“We’ll see about that,” I tell him.
“Oh, I know we will,” he says, taking another step toward me. There’s barely an inch of space between us. My every sense is bombarded with his powerful presence. I’m speechless as he tucks a strand of hair behind my ear and lowers those perfect lips toward mine. I feel my face lifting to his, seeking it out of its own accord. I’m trembling before him, eager and ready. But then, just before he brushes those sweet lips against mine, he stops.
“See?” he growls, his green eyes searing into mine. “You can’t help yourself.”
“Screw you, Brooks,” I grumble, pushing roughly against his chest. I mean to push him away, but of course his bulky body doesn’t budge. I’m the one who’s forced to take a staggering step backward to regain my stiletto-hampered balance. My cheeks are bright red as Brooks looks on with amusement.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Red,” he tells me. “We’re just having a little fun, you and me. Ever heard of fun?”
“I’m not sure we have the same definition of the word,” I reply.
“Guess we’ll find out,” he says, taking a deep swig of his Budweiser. “I, for one, can’t fucking wait.”
“Brooks,” Tiberi calls from across the bar, “Come on outside, man. The Wraiths are here. I want you to meet everyone.”
As Brooks strides toward the door, I realize that I’m alone with the rest of the women. Kassie and Kelly sit with the gorgeous brunette bartender while the other three hold down their end of the bar. All six look between me and Brooks’ retreating form with piqued curiosity.
“You know you’re allowed to tell him to go fuck himself, right?” Kelly asks.
“Yeah, yeah,” I mumble, sitting down at the bar beside them.
“I mean, you’re a grown woman, do what you like,” Kassie shrugs. “We just don’t want you getting in over your head.”
“What, don’t think I could handle someone like him?” I ask.
“I don’t know anyone who could handle someone like him,” laughs the bartender, “I’m Dani, by the way,” she says.
“Dani’s seen more of Brooks than any of us,” Kassie says. “She’s the only one here all the time while the guys are working. And, more importantly, drinking.”
“Well, that’s a bunch of bullshit,” whines the busty blonde down the bar.
“Dani may be slinging them drinks, but we’re the ones holding down the fort,” sniffs the skinny brunette. “We’ve got dibs.”
“If by ‘holding down the fort’ you mean desperately vying to be someone’s old lady,” Dani says, rolling her eyes.
“Don’t worry,” Kassie smiles at me, “‘Old lady’ is a term of endearment, here. The highest compliment. It’s like being a member’s wife, even if you’re not technically married.”
“Are you guys married to your, uh, old men?” I ask Kelly and Kassie, “To Declan and Leo, I mean?”
“Not yet,” Kelly smiles. “The legal stuff is not as much of a priority, in this world. In case you couldn’t guess. Some members have civilian wives that stay clear of club business altogether, but we’re sort of a different breed.”
“It can actually be safer not to make it legal sometimes,” Kassie puts in.
“Safer?” I ask, pouncing on her slip of the tongue.
The women all trade terse glances, wondering how much they can tell me about the way things go around here. Kassie finally says, “MC’s aren’t without their scrapes with the law, Keira. It’s usually nothing serious, but it helps to be unattached—legally—when it happens.”