Page 12

What the hell am I doing? Stupid idea to go to Stormy’s to drown my sorrows. I so should have known better. And to flirt with Vegas? ‘ Danger, danger, ’ the tiny voice in my head screams at me, and I can literally hear a siren going off in the background. But hell, I have the same right to be at Stormy’s drinking as anyone else. To hell with it.

The room is spinning slightly, and I got to hold on to the table to steady myself as I get up to pay the powder room a visit. Oops! I snort to myself. Well done, madam, flirting with the lava hot guy and not being able to hold my liquor. Great idea. Still giggling at myself, I wobble my way to the toilet. After doing my business, I splash cold water on my face. Good thing I wear little makeup. I feel slightly less buzzed and decide to put my shitty day to one side. Fuck it, some fun and laughter are sorely needed. I’m amazed that Vegas actually has a sense of humor as well as being a hot bod!

As I return to the table, it’s only me and Vegas left. Everyone else has chickened out.

“I take it the others were lightweights?” I ask. Vegas nods with a smirk, one that I would like to wipe off his face in all the best ways. Hold on, missy, you can’t go there! Behave! Pep talk over. “Your eyes are a weird color, and they change with the light.” I look directly into his steely gray eyes, mesmerized, like a deer in the headlights. I can’t look away from them. He leans forward and looks into mine. There’s heat in his eyes that has my cheeks flaming. This is so bad.

“What color are they, then?” he teases me.

“Well, err . . .” I stutter and can feel my cheeks heating to boiling point. “Hypnotic steel?” Oh my god, Ashley, what are you doing? You’re poking the bear, and not well either, like a first grader with her first crush. Please, ground, open up and swallow me. Right the hell now, if you please.

“Was that supposed to be a pickup line? If it was, let me tell you, it sucks, and you need practice.” He laughs at me and his eyes twinkle with mischief.

“I’d have to go to the gym a few times first before trying to pick you up, biker boy. You and your ego are a little on the large side!” I volley back.

“Hey, are you trying to say I’m fat? Let me tell you, this is six foot two of darn good-looking muscle here!” he pats his chest in mock outrage. I can’t help it and burst out laughing.

He watches me with that strange smile playing around his lips. Those lips I really would like to take charge of mine right now. We sit there quietly, just looking at each other, and atmosphere around us is charged with a sizzle that shouldn’t be there. I watch as he shifts in his seat. My mouth dry, my body tingles. All the blood seems to have rushed to below my waist. Suddenly he stands, takes my hand, and drags me to the dance floor by the jukebox. I stumble along behind him, a lot off balance. The rum hit me harder than I thought. I watch him drop some money in the jukebox and choose a song.

No sooner does the music start as I find myself drawn tight to him, to the sounds of Knocking on Heaven’s Door. I love that song, and it makes me forget that I really shouldn’t be dancing with Vegas and give myself to the music and enjoy the feel of his hard, hot body touching mine in all the right ways. His hand on my ass pulls me closer. My heart is racing and my breathing speeds up. Leaning my head on his shoulder feels like the most natural thing to do. My height is about average, but still, he towers over me with his height and bulk. I feel surrounded by his warmth and strength and relax into his hold. Who would have thought? That man has moves! Moves that make my panties dampen more and more. It is impossible not to notice that I affect him. His hardness presses into my front and his hand rubs up and down my back. I can hear a rumble coming from him and realize that he’s quietly singing along. As I look up, his eyes capture mine and it feels as though the world stills around us, as though only he and I exist as he sings the words. Like he’s singing them only for me. With that beautiful baritone singing voice.

He has me spellbound by his eyes, mine fixing on his lips. I can’t stand it anymore and reach up, pulling his head down to mine and place a gentle, chaste kiss on his lips, and feel him tense for a few seconds. As I try to pull back, he pulls me in closer and takes over the kiss.

Nothing chaste about it now. My heart hammers in my chest as he kisses me hard, licks my lips with his tongue until I open to him. Our tongues warring, heat surging, the kiss turns hungry. My hands grip his hair and pull him closer. I can hear him groan, deep in his throat. My panties are soaked. I cannot let go of his mouth. It teases and works mine in the best of ways.

Loud wolf whistles and shouts of “Get a room!” makes us come back to reality with a bump. ‘ Oh my god, as I look around, I can see it was Karen who wolf whistled at us, smirking. This can’t be happening!’ Thoughts are racing through my head. I must be insane! If Raven finds out, he will not be happy! And Vegas will bear the brunt of his ire! I need to get out and away from here, pronto. I can feel panic rising and my hearing going dull.

“Ashley!” Vegas’ loud voice breaks through the fog. “Breathe… slowly, in through your nose, out of your mouth.” He leads me outside and helps me gain control.

“Do you get like this often?” He sends me a questioning look.

“No, not at all. Not sure what happened there!” ‘ Liar, liar, pants on fire!’ I can’t look him in the eyes. “Ookay… I won’t ask again.” He replies, and it is obvious that he sees through my bullshit. I’m a terrible liar.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have kissed you,” I stutter, looking at him apologetically.

“Hey, stop that. It takes two, you know. I could have stopped you but didn’t, despite knowing you’re drunk. I took advantage, and am sorry Ashley, my control ought to be better than this!” Vegas growls at me.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I whisper.

“I know, and that’s why I’m taking you home now and then myself straight to the clubhouse to bed, before I do something we’ll both regret.” I look at him, stunned.

“You can’t want me, Vegas. I mean, you’re you and I’m just little ole me!” my voice is full of disbelief.

“Ash, stop. Stop that right now. Of course, I want you, in case you haven’t noticed. You’re beautiful, witty, intelligent . . . It takes all my self-discipline to not bend you over my bike right now and fuck you senseless! But I know you would regret it in the morning when the alcohol wears off and neither of us could face Raven. So, don’t talk like that again. Now, get your ass over to my bike, so I can take you home.” I can see him warring with himself while speaking to me, but his loyalty to Raven wins out. As it should. My rational side agrees with him, but there is that small part of me who wants his body to make good on what he promised. It must be the alcohol. I nod and we walk over to the bike, my hand in his, telling myself it’s because I’m buzzed, and he wants to keep me safe.

But I wish that hand holding mine was running over every inch of my body. I shake myself out of my trance and grab the helmet he holds out to me. He makes sure it’s fastened, and I swing my leg over the bike to sit behind him, leaning in close, wrapping my arms around him, my hands linking on his hard abs. He shifts in his seat before the engine roars to life. The deep rumble of his Rocker goes right through me, puts a smile on my face and does nothing to cool my panties down.

He pulls out of the parking lot and onto the street. I hold on tight and whoop with joy as he opens her up a bit and we are gaining speed. I can feel his body shake with laughter. Clearly, I wasn’t as discreet in my joy as I’d hoped. I cringe. We go past my house, but I don’t care, loving the freedom, the wind in my hair. It feels like nothing else. For the first time in a long time, I don’t have to be a sister, care support worker, responsible, or sensible. I can be unadulteratedly me. Plain and simple me. I can breathe and have not felt so free in a long time. Peace settles around me, and I’m almost sad when Vegas turns around after a while and finds his way back to town. As we stop outside mine, I feel carefree and happy. I get off, hand him the helmet, and smile at him.

“Thank you, Vegas. I didn’t realize how much I needed that and missed riding.” I quietly smile at him. Leaning forward, I press my lips gently to his. “Thank you.” I turn and walk to the door. I know his eyes are following me, so I sway my butt. Silly? Sure. Fun? Absolutely. As I unlock the door and turn the lights on, a smile plays on my face as I turn to look at him. He’s there, smirking, and with a wink, he starts the Rocker and takes off down the road toward the clubhouse. I watch until he’s out of sight and then close the door with a happy sigh.

The silence screams at me as I walk into the empty house. I flop onto the sofa and turn on the TV, but I’m not taking in what’s is going on with the news. My thoughts are still in an uproar about a blond, gray-eyed hunk I shouldn’t want. He’s everything I thought I hated—a loud-mouthed, hard-faced, alpha male biker surrounded by club culture, loyalty, and ‘club business’.

God, how I hate those two words, and more so being treated like property. I watched my mom turn from a loving, trusting person to an anxiety-ridden wreck, seeking comfort in the depths of a bottle, or rather several bottles. She drank herself to death before I reached ten years old and Nathan was only two. It wasn’t long after I had discovered her secret affair with Rusty. I had to grow up quickly.

I hate what the club was then. Of course, club business was kept from me, but you didn’t need to be Einstein to realize that they were up to the neck in criminal activities. Mom, Pennywise’s mother, helped bring me and Nathan up to a certain extent. Pennywise was a couple of years older than me and a different year in school. Jamie was nineteen and already deeply involved with the club as a fully-patched member. Things only started changing after that fateful day when the Stormy Souls got into a shootout. Several members were killed, Pennywise’s father among them, and Stone, my father, ended up in prison. Jamie took over the club and slowly changed it. I know they run their businesses legit now, but I just can’t see past what once was.

I sigh, turn off the TV, and get ready for bed. When I wake in the morning, I feel as though I haven’t slept a wink. My dreams were plagued by that tall man with blond hair, steel-gray eyes, and the wanting, burning need he leaves me with.

“That’s all I need,” I mutter to myself, “being hot and ready like a hormone-struck teenager on a Monday morning with not a hope in hell of release. Discipline, Ashley, get your mind out of the gutter and your backside in the shower. ” Luckily for me, I’m on a late shift.

After my shower, I grab some breakfast and sit at the kitchen bar, slowly eating my cereal and hoping that with the next cup of coffee, my pounding headache will subside. I hear engines rumbling up to the house and go to open the door. Sparks jumps out of my car and hands me the keys.

“There ya go, Ash, all fixed. She’ll be good for a while now.” He grins, turns, and walks to the SUV parked behind my car. Knowing full well that my car is already paid for and the club won’t accept me paying them back, I call the local pizza shop and order some pizzas, fully loaded with all the trimmings, to feed six. It’s the least I can do.

A sigh escapes me as I grab my phone, hoping to find a message from Sarah. I have fifteen messages but none from Sarah.

9:45 p.m. Nathan: Hi sis, just wanted to let you know I’m all settled. Can you lend me a twenty? Need to buy a book. Thanks, you’re a star!

Typical Nathan.

10:30 p.m. Dougal: Hey Ashley, would you let me have Sarah’s number please? I need to speak to her about something, club business. Thanks, hon.

Club business? What does Sarah have to do with club business? I’ll have to ask her first. I won’t give her number out without her permission.

Me: Hey Doug, I’m sorry, I can’t give her number out without asking. I’ll see her at work and talk to her. I’ll text you the number if she okays it later.

1:00 a.m. Vegas: Are you awake?

1:05 a.m. Vegas: I enjoyed sitting and talking with you. It was good to see you laugh.

1:15 a.m. Vegas: Not talking to me?

1:30 a.m. Vegas: Night night, beautiful, sweet dreams xxx

6:30 a.m. Jamie: Sis, hope you’re okay, heard you were getting razzed. No Tabletop dancing ?? Have a great day!

There’s more from Vegas, all of which I delete, red-cheeked. I can only presume he got drunk after getting back. He doesn’t usually text me at all . . . ever. I wonder how much Jamie knows. The thought of him finding out about my alcohol-driven escapade—yes, that’s what I’m telling myself—does not fill me with excitement.

7:00 a.m. Carl: Hey honey, can you pop in and see me later? Can you bring me some toothpaste and mouthwash please? I’ll transfer you some money into your account if you let me have the details.

Me: Sure, not a problem. Will be with you in a couple of hours before I go to work. Behave yourself and leave the nurses alone ?? See you soon.