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If she didn’t want to bang a whole bunch of bikers—and quite frankly, given the look on her face right now, I guessed she probably didn’t—then I needed to find out what the hell else had brought her there, then take it to Keep for the same reason.
Protecting the club. That was my job and I took it very, very seriously indeed.
‘You gonna come with me?’ I asked, giving her a chance to move under her own steam.
But she just stared at me, her face completely white, trembling like a leaf.
Shit. She was panicking now and that was another thing I remembered from my time as her protection. There’d only been one instance of trouble and it hadn’t been from the MC who’d delivered the death threats, but from some kids at her school. She’d been late meeting me so I’d gone to see where she was, only to find her being bullied outside some classrooms. All it had taken was a hard stare and a couple of threats, and those bitches had run away, but Summer had stood there stock-still, like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. Too afraid to move.
It had taken a lot of coaxing to get her to snap out of it then, but time was something I didn’t have right now. Plus, I was an impatient motherfucker, just like my cock. I wanted this over and done with and I wanted it now.
So I put my hands on her hips, picked her up and threw her over my shoulder.
Summer didn’t make a sound or even struggle, though I felt every inch of her go rigid.
‘Don’t scream,’ I told her, wrapping my arm around her slender thighs to hold her steady as I turned towards the door. ‘I’m not going to hurt you.’
She was completely silent, stiff as a board as I stepped out of Crash’s room and into the corridor.
And into the middle of a goddamn orgy.
Great. Something else I was missing out on. Shit.
I tried to ignore all the hot sex happening right in front of me, heading towards my room since that was the only place I could guarantee we wouldn’t be interrupted by douchebags.
But, of course, walking down the corridor with a woman thrown over my shoulder wasn’t going to go ignored.
Sure enough, as I went past a brother getting head from two different women, he called out something about my ‘friend’ and that it was rude not to introduce her.
It was going to look unusual for me not to join in since it was well known that I was a big fan of the orgy, but since I was damn sure that the pretty little thing over my shoulder wouldn’t be thrilled if I suddenly started insisting on her getting to know the brothers and their cocks, I merely gave him the finger and strode on past.
My room was down the corridor a way, and I stopped outside it, my arm still wrapped around her thighs. She was taller than I’d expected and on the skinny side—I preferred chicks with a little more to hold on to—and I was weirdly conscious of the way she smelled, sweet and flowery and kind of innocent. It got to me, that scent. Not sure why, but it did. The club girls I was used to didn’t smell like that and I wasn’t sure I liked it.
It made me aware of how scared she’d been and of how I was now hauling her around over my shoulder like a sack of coal. Made me wonder if that really had been the best course of action, since it probably wouldn’t have helped her fear.
Then I realised what I was doing and glared at my door. What the fuck? I wasn’t used to questioning my decisions and I didn’t appreciate the fact that I was questioning them now, and all because of the way some scared little girl smelled.
Holy shit. I was going soft.
Irritated with myself, I opened the door and stepped inside.
I actually had a place of my own, but I liked to keep a room at the club because I liked being where my brothers were, where I could get all the cold beer and hot pussy I could handle without having to do a thing.
I wasn’t a loner, unlike my buddy Smoke. I liked people. I liked a party, too, lots of music, alcohol and women... Everything a man needed to feel good, and since feeling good was my preferred state, I indulged myself often.
Pity I was missing out on all of that now, though, which was pissing me off. Especially after the day I’d had taking care of some Demon’s Share MC assholes who’d accidentally-on-purpose wandered into our territory and had needed a little reminder to stay out of it.
Anyway, I’d been looking forward to some R & R tonight, a chance to forget about my problems for a little while, but now I had to deal with the tiny issue of a panicking civilian who shouldn’t have been anywhere near the clubhouse, and that wasn’t exactly enhancing my mood.
I kicked the door shut after me, then carried Summer over to the bed and slid her off my shoulder and down onto it.
I reached for her hood and pulled it off so I could get a good look at her, wanting to check if she was okay. A whole lot of silky platinum-blonde hair came tumbling out and down around her shoulders, reminding me of how she used to wear it back in school, in an untidy ponytail or in a bun wound around a pen or pencil. I always used to want to tie it back properly for her since I hated untidiness as a rule, but of course I never did.
Even with her hair all down, she didn’t look up. But I wasn’t having that so I put a finger beneath her chin and tipped her head back so I could see her face.
Her skin was dead white, her eyes round as fucking saucers and darker than a night sky.
Jesus.
It was all coming back to me now, that month I’d spent taking her to and from school. How pissed I’d been with the Knights’ then president for assigning me what had amounted to babysitting duties as a favour to the police chief. How she’d never said a word to me unless I asked her a question directly, and wouldn’t meet my eyes. How much that had irritated me because, sure, I was pretty scary but I hadn’t thought I was that scary.
She was looking at me now the same way she had back then, those big eyes glazed with fear, and it annoyed me at the same time as it made my chest feel tight. Because I hadn’t wanted her to be afraid of me back then and I didn’t want her to be afraid of me now. It felt...wrong somehow.
I had no idea what was up with that shit because it wasn’t as if I was a nice, caring kind of guy. I was an enforcer, for fuck’s sake. I made sure the brothers stuck to the club rules. And I only cared about three things—my club, my bike and making myself feel good as often as I damn well could.
Nothing else mattered.
Certainly not this scaredy-cat who’d got herself into some pretty deep shit.
But knowing all that didn’t stop the tightness in my chest. And I found myself rubbing her little chin with my thumb as if I wanted to soothe her or something. ‘You gonna tell me what you’re doing here, baby girl?’ I asked, deliberately using the name I used to call her years ago, when I’d wanted to get a rise out of her. I’d always figured that since being nice to her hadn’t got her to be less scared of me, maybe getting her angry would work. ‘Did Crash hurt you? Because I’m telling you right now that if he did, his name is going straight to the top of my shitlist.’
She didn’t respond to me ‘baby girl’-ing her. Instead she swallowed and I found myself staring at the pulse beating in the hollow of her throat. It was fast. Way too fucking fast.
‘Tiger?’ she said at long last, her voice husky and uncertain.
Hearing her say my name like that shocked me. I didn’t know she’d even remembered it, because she’d certainly never used it to my face.
‘Yeah, you know it.’ Her skin was incredibly soft and smooth under my thumb and I couldn’t seem to stop myself from stroking her again. I’d touched plenty of other women so there was no reason why her skin should feel any different. But somehow it did.
She blinked a couple more times, staring at me as if she’d never seen me before in her entire life. Then her gaze slowly dropped to... Holy shit. She was looking at my mouth.
That thing inside me kicked again, harder this time, and I felt my cock stir.
Christ, what the fuck was she doing that for? Didn’t she know what a come on it was?
As if I’d said it out loud, those big blue eyes came back to mine again, and she must have realised what she was doing because suddenly colour washed over her pale skin and she jerked herself out of my grip.
‘Don’t,’ she muttered, bending her head again and looking at her hands twisting in her lap, the long blonde hair in a curtain around her face.
‘Okay. So you can talk.’ I resisted the urge to grab her again, settling for putting my hands in my pockets instead. The warmth of her skin against my fingertips lingered, which pissed me off for no good reason. ‘You wanna answer my question about Crash?’
She was silent and I thought she was going to retreat, but then she said finally, ‘He didn’t hurt me. He was just...insistent.’
‘More than insistent. Looked like he scared the shit out of you.’
‘I wasn’t s-scared.’
‘Yeah, and I’m the fucking Queen of England.’
She didn’t say anything to that, her hands white-knuckled in her lap.
Christ, this silence bullshit was starting to get really fucking annoying.
‘What the hell are you doing here, Summer?’ I demanded, coming to the end of my patience. ‘And look at me when I’m talking to you.’
Finally, she lifted her head, and maybe I was imagining things, but it seemed like her eyes were less dark. I saw a small blue spark had flickered to life in them.
If it was anger, then good. That was way better than fear.
‘Maybe I just wanted to hang out with some b-bikers,’ she said, a defensive note in her voice.
I nearly laughed. ‘Seriously? You were nearly catatonic back there, baby girl. So, no, I’m not buying you wanting to hang out with some bikers.’
That pretty mouth of hers thinned. ‘I’m not a baby and I’m not a girl.’
Yeah, looked like I was annoying her, which was excellent. It also looked like she had a bit of spirit in her after all. Certainly more than she’d had when she was seventeen.
Yeah, and you like that, too.
Which I was not going to think about.
‘I don’t care who you are,’ I said mildly. ‘You’ve got five seconds to give me the truth or I’m taking you straight to Keep and you can tell him.’
Fear flashed in her eyes again, but this time that determined chin firmed. Another good sign. ‘Don’t do that. Please.’
‘Okay, well, you’d better start doing some talking then, hadn’t you?’
Her gaze flicked away from mine. ‘Well...um... I... It’s...uh...’
‘Use your words, baby girl.’
It flicked back, another of those blue sparks flashing, the colour in her cheeks pinker. Much, much better. Annoying her was clearly the way to go. Which was excellent considering I was a master at annoying the shit out of people.
‘Give me one good reason I should tell you.’ She lifted that chin, looking down her nose at me, all haughty and shit. And fuck knows why, but my cock found that extremely hot.
‘Because I asked you,’ I said gently, ignoring my impatient dick.
She frowned. ‘That’s not a good enough reason.’
Holy shit, this woman was a problem.
‘Baby girl,’ I explained, trying to be patient, ‘the way I see it, you have two choices. You either tell me what’s going on right now. Or you tell me what’s going on right now.’
Her frown deepened. ‘But...those two are the same.’
I folded my arms and gave her my enforcer’s smile. The one guaranteed to make a brother wish they’d never been born. ‘Yeah. I know.’
CHAPTER THREE (#u1937e0c4-b091-5eed-9b0b-da27b043c3f6)
Summer
I SAT ON Tiger’s bed and stared at him, feeling something deep inside me quiver in a way that had nothing whatsoever to do with the weird panic that had overtaken me in Crash’s room.
Or rather, it felt related to fear but not like I was in imminent danger of death or anything. More like when you get on a rollercoaster or a plane taking off, and everything is fast and out of control and it’s freaky and scary at the same time.
Tiger had always had that effect on me. He had been exciting and scary and I just hadn’t known what to do with myself around him.
I still didn’t.
Him suddenly appearing in Crash’s room like some kind of tattooed avenging angel, bringing all my confused teenaged feelings about him flooding back, had made me freeze. Like I just...couldn’t deal with Crash and him and where I was and what was happening all at the same time. And then he’d picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder like I weighed nothing at all and my brain had simply shut down.
Sometimes it happened to me like that. When I got overwhelmed, I froze. As if I was afraid something worse might happen if I moved.
I hated it. Or rather, I hated myself when I got like that. Especially when it happened in front of someone so strong and in control.
Someone like Tiger.
And he was just as strong and in control now as he had been back when I was seventeen. Just as tall and muscular. Just as scary. And just as freaking hot.
He was in jeans and a blue T-shirt, that biker leather vest over the top, and he had his arms folded, giving me a glimpse of the incredible tattoos inked into the bronze skin covering the powerful muscles of his biceps and forearms.
On his right arm, a tiger prowled, long and lean and dangerous, its teeth bared. On his left, an intricate, dizzying design of interlocking circles and spirals and all sorts of other geometries. For a second I got distracted, too busy staring at it and trying to follow all the angles to remember that he’d asked me a question.
‘Baby girl,’ he said quietly, in that deep voice that I felt right down low in my belly, ‘I’m not gonna ask again.’
Baby girl. Hadn’t he heard me when I’d told him I didn’t like it? How annoying. I’d hated it back when he’d been my protector, had found it incredibly patronising, but I’d been too shy to tell him to stop.
I had a bit more backbone now, though I got distracted again by the warning note in his voice.
Crap. He was going to make me tell him, wasn’t he? God, what the hell was I going to do now? I didn’t want him to find out what a coward I was. Or how ridiculously stupid I’d been to come down here without a plan.
No, I shouldn’t have cared what he thought of me, but the fact was, I did.
He was so strong and bright and...vivid. He didn’t give a shit what anyone thought of him. He did whatever the hell he wanted.
He was everything that I wasn’t and that intimidated the crap out of me, and the thought of having to spill my guts to him about Dad and my generally being pathetic when it came to emotional manipulation made me feel ill.
But what choice did I have?
Well, you could try distracting him...
That was an option, of course. But how? I wasn’t especially good at small talk and found talking to people in general difficult. Particularly people who intimidated me.
I bit my lip and frowned at him. My panic seemed to have receded, which was a mercy, my brain functioning again, formulating several plans, then discarding them.
Maybe I should ask him about his tattoos. Didn’t guys like talking about themselves? And if I managed to get him talking, then I wouldn’t have to, an added bonus.
Taking a silent breath, I pushed myself off his bed and took a couple of uncertain steps towards him.
