Page 3 of Bandit’s Bounty (Iron Howlers MC #3)

Chapter Two

Bandit

N ever in the history of ever did I expect to find my fated mate. And I sure as fuck didn’t think if I was so fortunate that she’d be a damn human. As I walk away from the women, I’m surrounded by Sloane’s delectable scent; fresh pine trees and that earthy smell the air gets after a good, soaking rain. She smells positively edible, and I find myself adjusting my hardening cock in my pants as I make my way to the bar.

“Better not be for my woman,” Cyrus growls out, motioning to my crotch.

“Shut it, fucker, she’s like a sister to me,” I retort, sliding my ass onto a stool. I motion the prospect for a beer, which he places in front of me, along with a shot. “What’s with the shot?” I ask Cyrus.

He smirks, waving his own that I didn’t notice. “Celebrating, Brother.”

“We’re always celebrating something around here,” I reply. “What’s today’s occasion?”

“The girls are passing so far despite what happened earlier in the year,” he states. “Karsyn’s pregnancy is going well. The businesses are all profitable. Take your pick.”

I chuckle before picking my own shot glass up and tap it against his. “Well, then, here’s to good things on the horizon, Brother,” I say before taking my shot.

The burn of the whiskey as it slides down my throat warms me from the inside, but it’s nothing compared to the heat that’s been thrumming inside of me since meeting Sloane and realizing who she is to me. Now to get her on the same page, of course. I chase my shot with my beer as I gaze around the room.

Seeing all the Spiked Raiders in attendance, as well as my own club has me smirking at Cyrus. “Who’d have ever thought our two clubs would be like this?” I muse.

“Right? Hell, if I didn’t know better, I’d swear Big Daddy had a hand in it somehow,” he grouses, causing me to chuckle out loud.

“I like it, though, Cyrus,” I admit. “We may run differently as far as our businesses go, but at the end of the day, we know that they have our backs just like we have theirs. And that right there is a good thing because it means that together, we’ll ensure Redwich remains safe for everyone.”

“True, true. So, who’s the woman with my old lady?” he asks.

“Sloane. Guess she brought some shit to Harmony and Karsyn, but they’re the ones who invited her,” I reply, my gaze going to the three women.

“What’s got that look on your face?” he questions, his brow lowering.

Glancing around, I see we’re mostly alone, probably because of our positions. Not that we’d ever discuss club shit out in the open like this, but still, I’ve noticed our brothers will give us a wide berth if we’re near each other.

“How did you know that Harmony was your mate?” I ask.

I honestly don’t remember anyone in my family of origin discussing fated mates, so I have no clue how I’m supposed to know. But, since Cyrus found Harmony, I figure he’s as good of a resource as anything.

“Why are you asking about that?” he questions.

“Because the moment I met Sloane, I felt like she was important to me,” I admit, my voice lower.

Granted, I’m in a clubhouse that’s predominantly full of shifters, so anyone who chooses to listen in can hear, but still, I’m trying to maintain a modicum of privacy.

“Did you smell anything?” he asks, his eyes now boring into mine. “Could be anything, Brother. Fresh linen, flowers, the list is endless.”

“As a matter of fact, I did. It was a combination of scents, plus I had the urge to toss her over my shoulder and carry her off to my den, so I could mark her,” I reply.

He starts chuckling while slapping me on the back. “Congrats, Bandit, and welcome to the club.”

“Cyrus, she’s human, how the fuck will that even work?”

My confusion must be evident because he taps the bar for two more beers then motions for me to follow him to his office. We don’t say anything as we walk there until we’re inside and the door is closed. I sit in the chair in front of his desk while he makes his way to his own seat. Before he says anything, he reaches into the bottom drawer of his desk and pulls out a bottle of his favorite whiskey along with two shot glasses. Once he has them filled, he slides one across the desk to me and motions for me to shoot it, which I quickly do.

Thank the gods that we don’t really get drunk; our metabolism is too high for alcohol or even drugs to really impact us for too long. We can get a buzz, of course, but it wears off quickly, which is fine since I prefer to keep my wits about me.

“Well, to answer your question, while we don’t normally share our existence with humans, mates are a different story. But, since she’s not a shifter, she won’t know what it means, so you’re going to have to date her the old-fashioned way.”

“We’re bikers, we don’t date. We fuck, we claim if we find our mate,” I retort. “I don’t know the first thing about dating someone, for fuck’s sake!”

He bursts into laughter, the sound reverberating through his office as I glare at him. “Easy to do. Take her to dinner, out to the movies. Hell, have Harmony put a picnic together for you so the food’s edible and take her out to the lake. Just know that most women prefer chick flicks, not that horror shit you like to watch.”

I smirk at him while taking a swig of my beer. “I don’t mind action movies,” I mutter.

“Once you’re sure she’s fallen for you, then you have to tell her our secret,” he continues, as if I haven’t said a word. When I go to say something, he holds his hand up. “If she rejects that or you, we’ll reach out to the vamps and have them do their woo-woo shit to make her forget, Brother.”

“Woo-woo shit?” I ask, chuckling.

“Fuck, do you remember before Harmony came along, we thought only shifters existed outside of the humans? Finding out that there are others out there who have abilities far beyond what we have is humbling. I don’t claim to know what the vamps can do, which is why I said what I said, and I’ll deny it if you ever open your fucking mouth and say otherwise.”

“No worries on my end. I don’t think I could ever say it with a straight face as it is,” I tease, still chuckling.

“Shut it, fucker. Okay, so congrats on finding your mate, and good luck getting her to choose you as well,” he replies, standing. “Now, let’s go party.”

I watch her laughing with the women, full plates of food in front of them. While I eat, my attention is laser focused on her. Every movement, toss of her head, and sound she makes is burned into my memory banks. Now to put ‘Operation Get My Mate’ into play.

Noticing that she’s standing with her purse in hand, I walk over and say, “Let me escort you to your car.”

“Oh! That’s not necessary, Bandit,” she shyly says, her cheeks pinkening.

“Yeah, babe, it is. These assholes have been steadily drinking and you’re here unaccompanied. Can’t have any of them saying or doing something that’ll cause you to never want to come back around,” I reply, taking her hand in mine.

As I lace our fingers together, I sense her heart rate speeding up and bite back a smile. Seems I may be affecting her as much as she’s done to me. Fuck I hope so, because I want her with every breath I take, and the need is only growing stronger. Now I understand why Cyrus acted the way he did when Harmony arrived.

Once we’re out of the clubhouse, I notice she doesn’t try to pull away from me as we walk toward her vehicle. While I don’t expect any danger, I’m on alert anyhow since she’s with me. Guess I need to get used to feeling as though my heart’s on the outside of my body, even though the most we’ve done is hold hands. I’m so fucked.

We reach her car; a sporty little Jeep and I chuckle when I see the small ducks lining her dashboard. “So, you’ve been ducked, huh?” I ask as she unlocks her door using her key fob.

“What? Oh, yeah,” she replies, giggling. “I didn’t even know it was a thing so when the first one showed up, I had to Google it!”

“Sloane?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you like to go out with me?” I ask, my heart hammering in my chest.

“Uh… um,” she stammers. “I… several years ago, I dated a biker from another club. Things didn’t end very well.”

Her voice is low, and she looks embarrassed, which bothers me immensely. Reaching out, I take her chin in my hand and tilt it up until she’s forced to look at me. “What happened, baby?” I question.

“He was late for a date, so I went to his clubhouse, since I’d been there before.” She stops and shudders as if what she’s seeing in her mind’s eye hurts. “Anyhow, when I walked in, I found him.”

“And?”

“He was um… screwing a club girl against the wall,” she replies, her voice now barely above a whisper. “When he saw me, he said some pretty nasty things that hurt me deeply. I swore then I’d never date another biker,” she admits.

I’m not sure what to say right now as rage courses through me at how she was treated. I want the fucker’s name so I can go rip his head from his shoulders, because I can see the pain his actions caused her. Instead, I wait patiently because she has a look on her face that tells me she wants to say something more.

“But that would be foolish to paint all bikers with his brush, because not all of y’all are like that, I’m sure,” she finally says.

“You’re right, we aren’t, and I can promise that I would never do something like that to you,” I reply.

Of course, what she doesn’t realize is the reason I won’t is due to the fact she’s my mate, but there’ll be time enough for me to tell her that once I’ve wooed her for a bit.

“Then yes, I’d like to go on a date with you.”

“Give me your phone and I’ll put my number in it, sweetheart, then text myself so I have yours.”

“Okay,” she says, handing me her phone, before she opens the car door and drops into the driver’s seat.

Leaning in, I kiss her forehead and say, “Drive safe, Sloane. I’ll either text or give you a call so we can set something up. Text me when you get home.”

I nearly choke on my tongue when she replies, “Okay, Daddy , I will,” before giving me a wink.

Seems there are a few layers my woman has that I’m going to love exploring.