BikersLibrarian (2 page)

It was best to forget the sexy biker. They might as well be
from different worlds. Men like him had no interest in women like her, even if she
had pretty packing on tonight. She admired his courage. It took a will of steel
to go against the grain and live by your own code of ethics. But the same thing
that drew her to him frightened her. He wasn’t like any other man she’d known.
The regular rules of dating and polite society wouldn’t apply. She could still
feel the heat of his gaze upon her. It made her feel sexy. Her heart sped and
the seed of curiosity began to grow.
What was he doing here in the first
place? Will he make a move? If he does, will I go along with it?

“Hey, Shooter, you ready to leave?”

Moose’s gruff voice stole his attention from the luscious
brown-skinned woman whose gaze sent him up in flames. Pure wasn’t their typical
scene. Tonight they’d been doing the Prez a favor by trailing his daughter.

Katie was a perky blonde with a banging body, though Shooter
never let the Prez know he thought so. Coddled by her father and trashed by her
ex-old lady of a mother, Tricia, the poor girl was a wreck. On her twenty-first
birthday, she’d hit the party scene at a dead run. Drinking like the alcohol
would be taken off the shelf any day and getting involved with some less than
reputable characters. Considering the Lords of Mayhem were no angels, the
statement said a lot.

“Katie cut out?” Shooter leaned against the bar.

“Yeah, she left with Smokey’s old lady, said they were going
back to her place.”

Shooter smirked. Six foot three, Smokey was built like a
linebacker and looked uptight as hell. Shooter had seen the man stare down the
barrel of a .45 without batting an eye. Now a club was about to do him in?

“Feeling uncomfortable, Moose?” He grinned.

“Fuck, yeah. It’s not our kind of place, eh?” The Canadian
expression earned a smile from Shooter. Even after all these years, Moose’s
accent still amused Shooter.

“True enough. But I’d like to hang around a while.”

Moose narrowed his eyes and stroked his full beard. “You
sniffing out some pussy?”

“You really care?”

“Eh, I just want to know if she’s got a friend.” Moose
shrugged.

The word pussy seemed too harsh for the woman he’d seen. She
was definitely a vagina or lady parts type.
Exactly why I don’t need to be
looking twice.
Despite her revealing outfit, he could tell she wasn’t the
kind you just fucked. Normally that meant he moved on to the next. He glanced
away but found his attention drawn back to her. There was a hidden depth to
her. An invisible mark that all people who’d been through some deep shit wore.
The mystery she presented intrigued him.

“She’s got a few. But none of them look the slam-bam type.”

“Shit, Shooter. You scouting out old lady material?” Moose’s
eyes grew to the size of golf balls.

“I’m not looking. Way I hear it, though, they tend to catch
you unaware.”

“All the more reason for me to get the fuck out of here. You
gonna be okay alone?”

The anxious look on the large man’s face made Shooter
chuckle. “Aren’t I always?”

“Yeah, good point. See you later, man. I’m going to have fun
with some obligation-free sweet butt.”

“You enjoy that—and wrap it up.”

“Don’t have to tell me. I’m not trying to be a father or
have some crazy ass thinking I’m her path to ladder climbing.” Moose shuddered.
“Happy hunting, hope you capture your prey.” Moose gave a mock salute and
disappeared into the crowd.

Tossing back the rest of his whiskey sour, Shooter set the
tumbler on the bar and signaled for another. He’d never been an individual to
act first and think second. Before he approached her, he’d do a little recon.

Taking his fresh drink, he blended in with the crowd,
careful to keep her in sight and his position hidden.
Who knew I’d be using
sniper training to pick up chicks?

Fifteen minutes later, the sway of her hips and the curve of
her back summoned him onto the floor. He turned away three scorching-hot women
because he couldn’t keep his thoughts, or his eyes, off her. The coy glances
she sent his way woke something inside him. A primal instinct to track and
claim. It reminded him of something his father said about his mother once.
From
the first time your mother looked at me with secrets in her eyes I wanted to
learn, I had a compulsion to figure out the mysteries I knew she held. What
started off as a short-term mission quickly expanded to last a lifetime, and
I’ve never regretted it once. When you meet a woman who entrances you with more
than her body, and draws you to her without words, you hold on to her. Because
there comes a time when everything has been said, beauty fades and only the
connection that brought you together in the first place matters.

He’d never understood it until now. His dick pressed against
his pants, fighting to get out, and he knew the only woman it would be
satisfied by stood in the center of the floor with her girlfriends.

One night wouldn’t be enough. He needed to mark her as his.
He’d figure out what about her dug under his flesh along the way. It’d been
years since his interest in getting to know a woman had been sparked.

Memories of his last brush with
love
made him cringe.
Clearly my judgment is flawed. Do I really want to try this again
? Shaking
off the cobwebs of the past, he made his way through the crowd that gave way to
let him pass. When you were the scariest man in the room, maneuvering became
relatively easy. He could have approached her from behind. That thick ass
filling out her skirt begged to be rubbed by his cock. But he wanted to see her
eyes. Watch those dark orbs flash with recognition and desire. She wanted him.
The real question running through his mind was, would she accept him?

He saw the shock on her friend’s face when he appeared
behind her and trailed his fingers over the bare skin of her back as he walked
to face her. The heat radiating from her body singed him, and the contact sent
a jolt straight to his cock. She looked up with an irritated expression that
fell away when their gazes met. Her full lips formed an
O
.

“Dance.” There was no query in his statement but she nodded.
Their bodies molded together like two pieces sculpted to fit. Full breasts
pressed into his chest, teasing him with pointy nipples. Her rounded belly and
curvy hips pleased him. They added to her softness and made her different from
his usual fare. The bunnies with their copious amounts of makeup and skimpy
clothes he used for one-night stands required no real thought. Everything about
this woman appeared to be genuine. In their own zone they rocked together,
lightly rubbing without getting raunchy. He felt like a damn high school kid,
keeping a respectable distance, but damn did it feel good and right. Squeezing
the supple flesh of her hips in his palms, he watched the tension melt from her
shoulders. The shyness she’d first exhibited began to give way and she offered
up a smile.

Her teeth were even and white, except for a slightly crooked
tooth that he found charming.
Fuck, did I actually just think that?
The
woman had red flags flying, but he didn’t want to run away. The music changed
to something slow and their pace adjusted.

Bending down, he brushed her ear with his lips, savoring the
shiver that racked her tasty figure. “I’d like to buy you a drink, if you’ll
let me.”

She pulled away to glance up at him, totally stunned. He
laughed. “I can be a gentleman when I want to be.”

“I don’t even know your name.” Her voice shook.

“Shooter.”

“Juliette.”

“Now we’re acquainted.” Releasing her, he stepped back. His
body screamed in protest. Twining their fingers, he led her over to the
whispering cluster of girls giving him the evil eye. “Ladies, I’ll be
monopolizing Juliette’s time for the rest of the night.”

“I don’t think so, delicious, dark and deadly. I don’t know
you from Adam. You can’t just whisk her off to parts unknown. Have you seen the
news these days?” She shook her head, sending curls flying about her face.

Juliette sighed. “Hil—”

“My name’s Shooter.”

“First of all, Shooter? That’s not the name your mother
delivered you with at birth.” The stern frown reminded him of his third grade
teacher. That woman could strike fear in the hearts of the most hardened.
“You’re being awfully accommodating.” The curly-haired woman crossed her arms
over her chest. Her friends had gone from dancing to closing in around him on
all sides.

“You guys are so over the top right now.” Juliette rolled
her eyes.

“I can be very reasonable when it gets me what I want.” He
winked.

She turned to the woman who’d gone silent beside him. “Jul,
are you okay with this?”

“Yes.” Juliette nodded.

“Then let’s take it off the floor. ’Cause the only way I’m
leaving you alone with this man for any extended amount of time is if I can
track him down with some solid information.”

Shooter snickered. Normally he’d tell a bitch off, but she
amused him, and he couldn’t fault her for looking out for Juliette. Together
the five of them walked to a table on the perimeter of the dance floor.

“Here’s my phone.” He dug his phone out of his pocket with
his left hand, refusing to relinquish his hold on Juliette, who looked ready to
bolt any moment.

“I’m Hilary. This is Joey and Evonne—the three women who
will make your life a living hell if anything, and I mean so much as a stubbed
toe, happens to Juliette while she’s with you.”

“I’d wager next to me is the safest place in here.”

“Humph.” Hilary turned her attention to his phone, saving
the number and calling him. When his ring tone chimed in response she nodded and
peered up. “Address?”

He fished his wallet out of his back pocket and handed it to
the curly-haired woman he’d secretly nicknamed the harpy.

“Same as on your driver’s license…Daniel Andrew Nash?”

“Yes. You plan on driving by and peeking through the windows?”

“Maybe.” Her lips twitched and he rolled his eyes.
Ball
buster.
Her fingers flew over the keys. A few agonizing minutes later she
was done.

“Looks like you check out. Jul… you sure?” The harpy’s eyes
grew warm, and she laid a gentle hand on Jul’s upper arm.

“I am.”

He wanted to pick her up, toss her over his shoulder and run
before they convinced her to stay here with them.
Is she a fucking princess
or a senator’s daughter?

“Okay. Be safe and have fun,” the harp—Hilary said.

“Don’t worry, she will.” After collecting his wallet and
phone, he shoved them back into his pockets and turned, guiding her through the
crowd.

“T-this isn’t what I expected!” she called to him over the
music. They exited the floor, and he steered them to a wall across from the bar.
Gripping her hips, he bent down so she could hear him.

“Well I save throwing women over my shoulder and carrying
them off to my bike for the second date.”

She glanced away and laughed. “I didn’t mean that the way it
sounded. You’re…not my usual type.”

“Good, I like being your first.” She glanced down and he
laughed. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I don’t bite unless asked.”

“Oh.” The quaver in her husky voice filled him with desire.
“Is that what you want?” He trailed his thumb across her neck, resting it against
her throbbing pulse point.

“Perhaps another time, after I cracked that shell you’re
tucked away in.”

“That’s not something good girls do.” She swallowed hard.

“Oh baby, good girls do. In time I’ll show you that
firsthand.” The pulse in her neck became erratic. Aware of his limitations he
cleared his throat and stepped back. “We need to get that drink now.”

“Yeah,” she whispered stepping away from the wall. He
wrapped an arm around her waist, mean-mugging the men eyeballing her like a
piece of meat. They glanced away and he grinned. He and Juliette reached the
end of the bar and he turned to her.

“Pick your poison.”

“Just a coke, I’m the designated driver.”

“You going for the sainthood?”

She laughed. “No. I lost the game of paper rock scissors.”

He smiled. “Fair is fair. If you weren’t the driver what
would it be?”

“Amaretto sour, or a whiskey sour in a pinch.”

“I’ll commit it to memory.”

She flashed him a surprised look.

“What can I get for you?” The brunette bartender asked,
appearing at the end of the bar.

“Whiskey on the rocks for me and a cola for the lady.”

“You got it. Mayhem drinks free.”

Shooter nodded his thanks as the woman turned on her heel
and disappeared to the opposite end of the bar.

“Mayhem?” Juliette asked.

“That’s the name of my M.C. The Lords of Mayhem.” He ran his
finger over the club emblem and she tilted her head.

“C-can I touch it?”

“Only ’cause you asked nicely.”
Damn she’s green.
The
situation thrilled him. A woman who cared about Shooter the man, not the
position he held in Mayhem, or the perks of being a biker’s woman.

“Sergeant at Arms?” She ran her finger over his patch,
burning a hole through the leather and the cotton that covered his chest.

The bartender returned and set the drinks in front of him.

“Basically, I organize shit. What about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, your job, or are you just ridiculously wealthy?” He
thought back to the bodyguard routine her friend put on.

“I wish. I’m a librarian.”

“No shit?” he said. Images of her dressed in a crisp white
button-up, black pencil skirt and pumps made him tamp down a moan.

“Yeah, no uh—shit.” The words sounded awkward coming from
her.

“Why don’t we take this outside, it’s a nice night.”

“I’d like that.” They moved away from the bar and out into
the warm night. “ I have to ask this, why are you being so nice?”

“Say what now?”

“I can’t be your normal type. If you’re looking for a piece
of ass, I won’t be worth your time. I’m not easy and you are slightly
frightening.”

“Then why are you out here with me?” he asked.

“Because you fascinate me and I would never want to spend my
life wondering ‘what if’.”

“That’s the same reason I’m out here too, librarian. I’m not
a complete monster. You give me time and I’ll show you just how good I can be.
I knew from the start you weren’t the type of girl I could pin against the wall
of the alley and take hard and fast. At least not until I claim you as mine.”