Bad Boy's Baby: Wicked Angels MC (4 page)

Tristan

When the girl’s arms were safely wrapped around my chest, I pulled out of the parking lot. She nestled her face against the back of my jacket and the sweet scent of vanilla rose up over my senses. I was glad I’d gotten there in time. I’d been in a bar with those fucks, listening to them talk about how they wanted to harass the pretty librarian. I’d had a bad feeling about them—they were both tanked—and I was more glad than ever that I’d followed them.

She
was
hot, I had to admit. Just my type, too: tall, legs for days, long red hair, big, round tits. I imagined how her tight lithe body would feel under my hands and my cock started to twitch in my pants. I shivered. Maybe I’d get more than I bargained for with this pretty little thing.

I loved the energy that swarmed around my body after a fight. It primed my mind and made me ready for more. There was something that felt so good about chasing assholes away from pretty ladies, even if my intentions were perhaps not any more gentlemanly than theirs had been. I flexed the muscles in my chest, feeling the spike of adrenaline hit my heart. I closed my eyes and for a moment, lifted my hands off the steering bars. The energy spiked in my chest and I felt a delicious rush hit my face—it wasn’t the wind, it was something more primal, more amazing. Between knocking those assholes out and rescuing this pretty little thing, I was feeling more amped than I had in months. A grin stretched over my lips. I didn’t know where I was headed, but damn if I didn’t feel good.

The girl was clutching me tightly; I had a feeling she wasn’t even paying attention to the road. But I could feel her heart pounding like a jackhammer behind those amazing pert tits, and I knew she must have had the fright of her life. Girl like her, even though she didn’t look moneyed, still looked sheltered. I decided that she needed a drink, and maybe an ear.
And maybe your cock
, I thought, the wicked grin twisting and stretching even further on my face.
Be honest, you’re already thinking about what it would be like to fuck her
.

I decided that I’d take her to a nicer place, not the typical shitbox where my boys and I hung out. I’d been a patched member of the Wicked Angels for years, and they’d recently patched me in as president. It had been an incredible feeling: exhilarating, tense, and perfect. But somehow, part of me felt like the afternoon had been just as exciting and thrilling. There was nothing in the world like rescuing a dame, nothing.

As we pulled into the parking lot, I felt the girl tense.

“Where are we?” Her voice was soft and lyrical, somehow…familiar. I shook my head. She didn’t look like anyone I’d seen before, and even if there was something funny about her, that didn’t mean we had any kind of real history together.

“I figured you could use a drink,” I said, throwing her a grin. “How do you feel about that?”

The girl blushed. “I have to make a phone call, okay?”

I nodded. “I’ll be right here. You want to go inside or stay here?”

“Stay here,” she said softly. She dug in her purse and came out with an older-model iPhone. I watched as she cupped her mouth over her hand and whispered something softly into the phone. It sounded like she was making arrangements with someone and I smiled. If I’d stolen her from another guy that evening, all the better for me. Now that I really had a good chance to look at her, she was smokin’ hot. She was wearing a sweater and a cute little skirt, and even though her knees were skinned and bloody, she still had the nicest stems I’d seen on a girl recently.

“Thanks,” she said after a moment. I realized I’d been too busy zoning out on her body to really focus on what she was saying. She threw me a tentative smile. “Just one drink, okay?”

I nodded. “Sure, princess,” I said, stretching and walking toward the entrance. The bar wasn’t a great place, but it was nicer than some of the other dives in town. Still, the floor was sticky and there was an overwhelming scent of Lysol and stale beer in the air.

“Sorry this isn’t nicer,” I said in a gruff voice. “But we’ll just be in and out.”

She nodded. I let her take the lead and followed her to two unoccupied stools at the bar. The way she swung her hips when she walked was making me hard, and I had to stare at the floor so I wouldn’t start thinking about the delectable cheeks of her ass. She was so sweet, so luscious.

When we were seated, I faced the girl. She was still shaking from head to toe and I reached out and put a big hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but I didn’t take my hand away. When we touched, sparks flew between our bodies and I felt a grin sneak onto my face.

“What’s your name?” I asked her softly.

“Jenny,” she said after a moment’s hesitation. “Thank you. How did you know they were going to do that?” She looked up at me with big, scared green eyes. “I mean, you couldn’t have just shown up at that exact instant.”

I sighed and raked a hand through my messy hair. Even though I kept it slightly long, it was almost to the point where I needed to get it sheared off again.

“I was having a drink and those assholes kept talking about how they were gonna go fuck with a pretty librarian,” I said. “So I followed them.”

Jenny let out a deep sigh. She still hadn’t asked for my name. As her trembling started to slowly subside, I flagged down the bartender.

“A beer for me,” I said grandly. “And whatever this lady wants.”

“I’d like a vodka tonic, please,” she said softly. “Thank you,” she added when the bartender had turned away. “Thank you so much for saving me.”

I shook my head. “Ain’t a thing, princess,” I told her with a cocky grin. Jenny flushed and I realized her body was angled towards mine, with her legs slightly open. I stared at the soft white flesh of her creamy thighs, wishing I could reach out and touch her. She was so insanely hot, I knew that I had to fuck her. Would she let me?

I reached out and grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry about those assholes,” I said. “But I don’t think they’ll bother you again. Have you ever seen them before?”

Jenny bit her lip. “Not really,” she said softly. “Sometimes when I’m leaving work I’ll see guys on bikes but I’ve never paid them too much attention before.”

I chuckled. “That was probably your first mistake,” I told her. “You always gotta watch your surroundings.”

The bartender returned with our drinks and we clinked together. As Jenny took a long sip of her vodka tonic, I watched some of the color return to her face. She was pretty, angular, but gorgeous. I had a feeling that when she was younger, her face had probably been fuller and she’d been a little heavier. Now she was lean, with a flat belly and delicate legs. My mouth watered a little thinking about what she’d look like naked.

“Did they do anything except scare you?” I persisted. Jenny’s look darkened and I saw her take another long pull on her drink. “I’m sorry to ask, but, you know, I can fix those guys if they did anything.”

Jenny bit her plump lower lip and shook her head. “No,” she said after a moment. Patchy blush rose over her face and I realized she must be getting a little tipsy. “They didn’t do anything. I promise.”

I laughed again. “You don’t have to protect those assholes,” I said, shaking my finger at her. “That’s how all of this bad shit starts.”

She blushed, for real this time. The way the pink spread over her face was so adorable, I wanted to reach out and kiss her. I loved the way her mouth worked for a few seconds before she started talking. It made her look very fuckable.

“I promise,” she said again. “Trust me,” she said, rolling her eyes. “They didn’t do anything. You would have seen it.”

I pointed to her knees. “They hurt you,” I said softly, reaching out and brushing some of the gravel out of her wounds. Jenny flinched slightly and a pained expression came over her face but she allowed me to keep at it until all of the grit was out of the cuts. “You should wash that,” I said, pointing to the bathroom. “You don’t want an infection.”

“What about your hands?” Jenny pointed to my bloody fingers. “You should wash up, too.”

I smirked and wiped my hands on a bar napkin. “Trust me, honey, this isn’t the first time I’ve gotten blood on me,” I said. I expected Jenny to laugh but instead she frowned. I watched as she let herself off the stool and headed into the bathroom. She was stumbling slightly, but she managed to make it without falling over.

“Bartender,” I called loudly. “Another vodka tonic over here!”

When Jenny returned, I handed her a fresh drink. She tried to protest, but gave in after a few weak cries.

“Drink up,” I told her. “You just had one hell of a fright. If I were you, I’d be wanting to relax as much as I could.”

Jenny laughed softly. She took the glass from my hand and took a long sip. “You’re right,” she said softly. “Thank you.”

“No sweat,” I told her with a grin. “So, you’ve always been a librarian?”

“Ever since college,” Jenny said ruefully. “I put myself through, so it took some time. But now I love it.”

I nodded. She was just the type who would: quiet, soft-spoken, gorgeous. I wondered what she was like in bed. Was she just as timid as she was now, or was she a little wildcat? I grinned broadly.
Only one way to find out
, I thought with a chuckle under my breath.
And I intend to do it as soon as possible.

Jenny

As I finished my second drink, the alcoholic warmth in my belly and throat was growing more and more pleasurable by the minute. I knew that I should have refused the second drink, but there was something about his manner than I knew I couldn’t refuse. He reminded me of someone. Someone I’d known and loved.
Tristan
.

The name brought a flood of painful memories back to me. Boys like Tristan had always been my weakness, even after Tristan and I were broken up for good. It had taken years for me to be able to think of Tristan without crying, but I finally could. Somehow, this stranger was threatening to bring it all back. He was gorgeous—sculpted tanned face, bulky muscular body without an inch of fat, wavy brown hair. Stunning blue eyes that he’d kept hidden behind sunglasses until we were in the bar.

I couldn’t believe he’d taken such an interest in me. But the chemistry between us was undeniable. Every time he leaned close, I felt my heart start to pound in my chest. The adrenaline rush from Randy and Steve’s attack had long faded, but a new one was threatening to take its place. I shuddered as the handsome stranger rested a hand on my leg.

“You did a good job,” he said slowly, inspecting my knee. “You used to washing off a lot of cuts and scrapes?”

I was, of course, because having an eight-year-old son meant that literally every day, I cleaned up a cut.

“Yes,” I said shyly, without elaborating. Even though I loved Phin more than anything in the world, I was hesitant to mention him. Sometimes, finding out a woman was a single mom was a turn-off to guys. I wasn’t looking for anything, but I had to admit that the attention he was showing me felt good. It had been a really long time since I’d let myself talk to a guy and flirt and relax. It reminded me of what it was like to feel wanted, to feel needed.
To feel loved
, I thought in my tipsy brain. Automatically I felt guilty. I knew what it felt like to be loved; Phin loved me more than life itself.
But it’s not the same,
I thought with a twinge of guilt. I missed being loved by a man, someone who would hold me and cuddle me until all my dark fears in the night went away.

The guy finished his beer and gave me a lazy grin. “What do you say about one more?” His voice was low and sensual and I shivered as I felt lust tear through my body, like fingers ripping wet silk. I wanted this man suddenly more than I’d ever wanted anyone in my whole life. I didn’t stop to think about what that meant as I leaned back in my stool.

“Sure,” I said. The guy grinned at me and my stomach did a flip-flop.

“Same thing? Something different?” He winked at me as he asked.

I had a feeling he was testing me. But part of me, the part of me that was enjoying his attention, decided to flirt back. I licked my lower lip and tried to wink at him. Since he didn’t laugh, I imagined that my wink had the desired effect. I let my eyes trail down his body. He was clad in a t-shirt and dark jeans, but under the cotton of his shirt I could tell he had a marvelous, sculpted body. I saw his rock-hard abs clench and twist as he shifted and flagged down the bartender. The muscles in his biceps were bulging and I saw a grin sneak onto his face.

“Hey, barkeep!” he called loudly. “Same thing for me, and
something different
for the lady.” He grinned and I felt a blush cover my face. “She likes different things,” he said softly, meant only for me to hear. A shiver of lust ran through my body and I felt my lower belly clench with desire. If I’d been drunker, I would have dragged him to a dark corner and plastered my body against his. He had big, strong, veiny hands and I shivered as I thought about what they would feel like running over my body.
Take me.
Just for the night, make me yours
.

The bartender handed me a shot and a glass of something swirling blue. “This is different,” she told me with her eyebrows raised. “You probably don’t want to drive after this.”

Closing my eyes, I lifted the glass to my lips and knocked the shot back. My mouth stung—it was almost like the soft tissue was numbed from the drink—and I gasped and coughed. The guy laughed before reaching out to pat me gently on the back. As he did, I caught a whiff of his scent and desire rose in me like a tidal wave. He smelled like a blend of sandalwood and tobacco and leather and I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. No doubt about it, this guy was trouble.

When I opened my eyes, I realized the guy was staring directly at my face. I blushed.

“What is it?” I asked softly.

He kept staring. The blush deepened on my face and I returned his gaze, as hard as I could. His intense blue eyes were boring deep into my soul and I shivered. I hadn’t been this intimate with someone in a long time, even though we had yet to touch.

Before I could think about what was happening, he leaned over and pressed his lips to mine. At first the kiss was chaste, reasonable. But after a few seconds, I started to feel the heat from his mouth seeping into mine. The kiss grew alive and sparks flew between our bodies. I moaned softly into his mouth and tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling myself as close as possible to him. I was barely aware of the guy wrapping his arms around me and crushing my body to his. As our lips and tongues danced together, arousal began to thump in my lower belly. He groaned and pulled me off the barstool until I was practically in his lap. Feeling all of the sexy stranger’s muscles pressed against my body made me shiver and before I knew it, I was crawling on top of him and wrapping my arms around him, pulling him as close as possible. He responded by eagerly pulling me close. I could feel a giant, hard bulge in his dark jeans, pressed up against me. I loved how hard I’d made him, as if this was the kind of thing that never happened, when in reality, he was probably the type to pick up girls all the time. Lust coursed through my body and I pressed my forehead against his, deepening our kiss. He tasted amazing, like leather and beer and soap, and I wanted to be covered in his scent. I wanted to smell it on my pillows in the morning, I wanted to smell it on my skin.

He groaned and tangled his hands in my hair. I cried out softly as he nibbled and sucked on my lower lip. I was so aroused that I could feel my panties were soaked and every time I twisted, they rubbed against my sensitive skin. The stranger’s hands were slipping around my back, up my shirt, rubbing the soft skin underneath. I hadn’t had a man’s hands on me in years, and I loved the feel of his calloused fingers sliding over my skin. As they slid around to my front, I gasped as I felt his fingers tweak at my nipples through my lacy bra. I blushed madly as I deepened the kiss. If only I’d known I was going to meet this guy today, I would have worn matching panties. As I twisted my body against his, another fierce bolt of desire shot through me.

The bar around us faded into nothing as we madly pulled at each other. He broke the kiss and nudged my head up to lick and suck at my neck.
God, this feels so good
, I thought. My body was swimming in lust and alcohol and there was nothing more in the world that I wanted than this guy. I wanted him to take me, I wanted him to make me his. His tongue slid between my lips and danced with mine, his hands toyed with my breasts under my sweater until I was whimpering softly into his mouth. His touch was magnetic, I craved it like I craved breathing. He was doing incredible things to me, and the worst thing was, I just wanted more. I shivered at the thought of his tongue licking down my body, between my legs, sucking my clit until I cried out with pleasure.

I wanted to wrap my mouth around his cock and suck until he came in my mouth and his whole body was shaking. I wanted to bring him to his knees with lust and desire for me. As he gnawed at my wet mouth, he pressed his crotch against my body and I felt his stiff erection poking me through his jeans. He was
huge
. I shuddered, imagining what it would feel like the first time he slid his hard cock inside of my soaked pussy. I wanted to take him all the way, I wanted to spread my legs and let him slide in until I was screaming.

Breathlessly, I pulled away. He was staring at me, the lust wild and evident in his eyes. His lips were shiny with our mingled saliva and his breath was coming in damp bursts, just like mine. My heart was beating like a jackhammer in my chest and I felt painful arousal tugging at my crotch.
More,
my body was begging me.
More, more, more.

But when we weren’t touching, the reality of the moment sank in. I blushed and coughed, tasting alcohol.
God, I’m really drunk
, I realized.
This is what I get for not having a drink in months
. The bar around me was bleary and brightly-colored; I could tell that it had long since gotten dark outside. What the fuck was I doing in a bar with this hot stranger? Yeah, I wanted him. But oh god, did he ever look like trouble. And yet, there was something familiar about him.

“I have to go home and take care of my son,” I blurted out. “He’s with a babysitter.”