Page 3 of Protected By the Bikers Next Door (Never Just One #4)
Wolf
E ver since she came marching into our house last night like an avenging angel, all fire and brimstone, I can’t stop thinking about our new neighbor, Harper. She’s a fierce lioness if I ever saw one. We only spoke for a moment, but I can already tell she’d do anything for her daughter. Lucky kid.
Her protectiveness only made her sexier because she is sexy, though I don’t doubt that if you tried to tell her, she’d deny it.
I could see the signs as clear as day that someone almost managed to douse her fire and made her feel less than the goddess that she is.
I’m fascinated by her already. I want to know everything.
But I also have a reputation to uphold. I can’t let her blatant disrespect toward me go unpunished.
As with all the previous tenants, we start with a small, yet clear warning. In the early hours of the morning, while she was sleeping, we messed up her front lawn a little with our bikes and left them parked there. The message is clear—this is our turf.
Hawk and I are watching out of the front window in anticipation of her reaction when we hear Bear stomping down the stairs. “She up yet?” he asks with a yawn.
“Not yet,” Hawk mutters, not looking around.
“Hey, make us some coffee, will you?” I say, turning to Bear. “Ugh. Put a shirt on. Nobody needs to see your hairy chest this early.”
“I thought Harper might. Figured I’d give her a front row ticket to the gun show,” he says with a wink.
So it’s not just me who’s intrigued by our hot new neighbor. I shouldn’t be surprised. We usually have the same taste in women. If you ask me, I can’t think of a single man who wouldn’t find Harper attractive.
Bear returns with our coffee just as the front door opens and Harper comes tearing outside, no doubt to confirm what she saw from her window.
She’s changed out of her pajamas into a simple white t-shirt and denim cut-offs, which hug her curves in all the right places.
I allow myself to wonder if this skimpy outfit is for my benefit.
I could tell that the attraction was mutual.
“This should be interesting,” I say to the others.
We all crane forward, eager to watch her reaction.
I’m hoping that she’ll come right over and shout at me again.
I’ve never enjoyed pissing a woman off so much before, or being spoken back to for that matter.
To my surprise, she instead heads around the back of the house.
When she reappears clutching a hose, Bear is the quickest to grasp the situation and goes running outside.
It’s only when she turns on the hose to full power and aims it at our bikes that I catch up with what’s happening.
Hawk and I rush outside after Bear. He’s already close to Harper, shouting at her to stop. Harper simply turns the hose on him, soaking his jeans through. He holds up his hands in surrender, and she turns the hose back onto the bikes again.
“Harper, stop, the pressure could damage them!” he booms, seeming to believe that Harper doesn’t know exactly what she’s doing. Does he think she’s just giving them a nice wash for us?
Realizing she isn’t going to stop, he wrestles the hose off her, soaking her in the process, before turning it off.
There’s a collective intake of breath from us men as we notice her white t-shirt is now see-through; it clings to her curves—perfect breasts, the nipples hard and showing through the lace of her bra, soft stomach, and hips just made for grabbing onto.
My cock twitches in my pants, and I feel like a schoolboy.
“You asshole!” she yells at Bear, pushing her wet hair from her face as she gapes at him in shock.
“Sorry, darlin’, I didn’t mean to get you wet. I just had to stop you. You could have damaged the bikes,” he explains.
“It’s just water.”
“High pressure,” Bear grits out.
“Well, you should have thought about that before you messed up my yard,” she mutters.
I stride over. “Annoying when your neighbors think they can come onto your property and mess things up, isn’t it?
” I remark casually. She glares at me with fire in her eyes, and I can’t stop myself from provoking her further.
She’s just too goddamned sexy when she’s mad.
“If you think that giving us a wet t-shirt show is going to stop us from doing this, you’re sorely mistaken. ”
She finally notices that her shirt is transparent, and she immediately crosses her arms over herself. “I wasn’t the one who got me wet,” she hisses.
“We’d be happy to get you wet anytime, sweetheart,” I promise, enjoying how her cheeks flush red as she gets the insinuation. “No need to cover up that gorgeous body.”
I’m left wondering how she would have responded to that, because, at that moment, a little girl comes running out of the house. Harper’s daughter, I presume.
“You’re having a water fight without me, Mommy?” she asks as she rushes over barefoot, still wearing pink pajamas, her hair in disarray, having just gotten out of bed. I’m not a big fan of kids, but even I have to admit this one is cute.
“Sorry, sweetie, you were sleeping,” Harper replies, ruffling her hair and taking hold of her hand.
I notice the subtle way she shifts to protectively place the child just behind her.
I want to yell that we’d never hurt a child.
It pains me that she’d think so. “These are our new neighbors,” she adds.
“Hi, I’m Jenny. What are your names?” she asks innocently, hanging off of her mother’s hand.
Bear, the best out of the three of us with kids, answers. “I’m Bear, and these are my friends Wolf and Hawk.”
Jenny wrinkles her nose and looks up at him in confusion. Tilting her head, she replies, “Those are silly names, you’re boys, not animals.”
Bear chuckles. “You’re right, they’re not our real names, they’re nicknames. We got them when we were in the Army. I was a medic, and these two were soldiers. My real name is Ezra, Wolf is Logan, and Hawk is Silas, but we prefer to use our nicknames.”
Jenny nods, understanding. “Are you called Bear because you’re big and hairy like one?”
This makes us all laugh. Harper scolds her daughter. “Jenny, don’t be rude!”
“No, it’s okay. You’re right, kiddo,” Bear says.
She nods, pleased to have her suspicion confirmed. She turns her attention to Hawk. “Can you fly?” she asks in awe.
“Unfortunately, not. It’s because I’m good at watching things and spotting the small details, like a hawk,” Silas explains patiently.
“I can see why you’re Wolf,” she says, turning her focus to me.
“Why’s that?” I say, expecting her to say, because I’m the leader or something.
There’s nothing like a five-year-old to humble your ego.
“Because you’re so gray!” she replies triumphantly.
Again, this makes us all laugh, even Harper, who looks ready to grab her daughter and run at any second.
“I want a nickname,” she declares, looking at us expectantly.
“Why? You’re a little lamb,” Bear replies affectionately.
Jenny scrunches up her face, frowning and crinkling her nose in disapproval. “That’s not very scary.”
“Well, no, but you don’t need to be scary because your Mommy is a lioness,” Bear explains.
When Jenny still seems unconvinced, he continues, “Being a lamb is pretty awesome. Lambs love to play. They have lovely curly hair just like you do, and they can jump really high. I bet you can jump higher than all your friends, can you?”
She nods enthusiastically and begins hopping on the spot to show him.
“See, you’re the best lamb I ever saw.”
Jenny beams at Bear, completely won over by his charm. I feel a pang of jealousy when I see the look in Harper’s eyes. It seems Jenny isn’t the only one Bear has impressed.
“Come on, sweetie, our new neighbors have got things to do, and you need to get dressed. Say goodbye now and go on inside,” Harper says to Jenny.
“Bye!” Jenny says with an enthusiastic wave before running into the house.
Harper watches her go inside before turning back to us, her former fury returns. “Get these bikes off my lawn,” she demands, turning on her heel and storming off.
We all watch her walk away before doing precisely that. It’s only when we get inside our place that we finally talk about her.
“Damn, she is something else,” Bear says wistfully.
“Not that she knows it,” Hawk points out.
“She’s been hurt. Someone made her hate that gorgeous body. And no one moves into that house who isn’t desperate or running,” I reply.
We’ve worked our way through our fair share of neighbors, driving the price down.
We’ve been hoping to buy the place and expand our clubhouse, but the owner’s been stubborn.
If we can drive yet another tenant out, we think he’ll finally give in.
Although I’m not so sure I want to get rid of Harper now.
When Bear says, “We can change that,” I know that my friends are as infatuated with Harper as I am.
We collectively decide then that we want Harper to be ours.
Our lioness.