BikersLibrarian (8 page)

“I think we all want that deep down,” Hilary said. Her brow
was furrowed, and a thoughtful expression lined her delicate features. “There’s
no shame in that.”

“We’re always here for you, Jul, you know that.” Evonne
leaned in and she found herself in the epicenter of a much needed group hug.

“I know. I just hate the weakness. How long will it take for
me to heal?” Disgusted by her hang-ups, she shook her head. The girls had seen
her at her lowest but she hated displaying it.

“As long as it takes. One day at a time, remember?” Hil
whispered.

“Right.” Juliette took a cleansing breath. She’d come a long
way from constant panic attacks.

* * * * *

The sound of someone rapping on her door woke her from her
slumber. Juliette rolled onto her side, grabbed her phone and pressed a button
to illuminate the screen. One o’clock. Grunting, she pushed back the sheets and
swung her legs over the side of the bed. Half asleep, she stumbled out of the
room and down the dimly lit hallway. She flipped the switch on the porch light
to reveal Shooter. Unlocking the door, she pulled it open and offered a sleepy
smile. “Hey.”

“Did I wake you?” He handed her a blue flower and she
smiled.

“Mhmm. The girls left around eleven. Did you borrow this
from someone’s yard?”

“Nope, found it on your doorstep. I think you got a neighbor
kid with a crush.” He chuckled. He took and twirled the spiky blue flower with
a brilliant yellow center around on his fingers.

Thoughts of the blue flowers a couple weeks prior made her
frown. They’d been forget me nots.
Was this the same person?
She ran
through her neighbors with children one by one. “ I hope not, my youngest
neighbor kid is probably about sixteen.”

“Old enough to get told to back off then.”

She giggled. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Don’t women want a man who’ll fight for them?”

He followed her inside, locked the door behind him and
walked into the kitchen and dropped the flower in the garbage. The action
pleased her more than it should. He took the alpha male thing seriously.
And
I love every minute of it.
He returned and pulled her to his body, cupping
her ass. “I like the thought of you at home, warm and cozy, waiting for me.” He
tasted of alcohol and him, a masculine flavor that went straight to her head
like champagne. “Last night I didn’t get to see you the way I want to. Tonight
I want to examine every inch of you.” Pushing her back against the wall, he
licked his lips. “You wear that shirt better than I ever did. I think you
should keep it.” He quirked an eyebrow. “What’s on your head?”

“A sleep cap. It protects my hair from breakage when I
sleep.”

“That’s new,” Shooter said. His brow furrowed and he studied
her with a curious expression she found adorable.

“If you’ve never seen one of these, I’m guessing you’ve
never dated a black woman.” She arched an eyebrow.

“I haven’t dated any woman for a long time, baby. You know
that.” Shadows moved forward in his eyes and he looked away. She wanted to ask
him why, but one in the morning the night they’d first met didn’t seem like the
right time.

“Until me?”

“Yes, until you.” His gruff response made her smile. He made
her feel wanted. It was an addictive emotion.
Why?
They’d yet to go into
details about their pasts, but she couldn’t demand from him what she hadn’t
revealed herself. Reaching up, he found the bow that held the silk scarf and
began to unwrap the length of black material.

The gentle touch surprised her. No, not gentle—precise. It
made her wonder what he’d done before he’d become a Lord. He tucked the scarf
in his pocket and scooped her into his arms bridal-style. She felt downright
petite.

“Before the Lords, what did you do?” She peered up at him,
watching his face harden.

“That was random.”

“I know. You should be used to that by now.” She shrugged.
“You give me free rein to ask whatever I want. I’m going to use it.”

He laughed. “Good point. I was in the Marine Corps for eight
years.”

“Ahhh. I’m guessing you worked with guns.”

“Yeah, I was a specialist.”

She saw shadows in his eyes. There was more to the story.

Shooter inclined his head. “Bed?”

“First door on the right, down the hallway.”

His broad shoulders seemed to fill her doorway as they
crossed the threshold. He stepped inside her private sanctuary. The dainty
robin’s-egg blue and lacy curtains made him seem out of place.

“Lots of books. It suits you.”

A mid-sized bookshelf sat on the far side. Books were
sporadically placed around the room.

“I like that you’re smart. Stupidity is dangerous.”

He set her on the edge of the bed and removed her shirt. She
tangled her fingers in his hair and pulled his mouth to hers. After licking his
lips, she pushed inside with her tongue, teasing, thrusting and parrying. Wet
and achy, she clenched her thighs together in an attempt to find relief.
Shrugging off his cut, he tossed it over a chair beside her dresser and yanked
his shirt over his head. He quickly unlaced his boots and toed them off. The
rest of his clothes joined the others.

“Lie back, baby.” Stretching out, her body trembled.

Kneeling at the foot of her bed, he encircled her ankle and
smiled down at the heart tattoo.

“Is this your only ink?”

“Yeah, the girls and I got it senior year. Our big act of
rebellion.” She laughed. The sound changed in the blink of an eye when he
darted out his tongue to trace the shape. The man could make anything erotic.
Her stomach quivered as he worked his way up with nips and licks. Her body sank
into the bed as pleasure clouded her mind. Each sweep of his tongue carried the
concerns that had once seemed important further away.

After massaging her inner thighs, he continued up to her
hips and her belly. Anxiety rushed in and she tensed. The last time they had
sex in his bedroom the lights were off. In her bedroom with the lights blazing
he could see every extra pound.

“Juliette?” The query in his tone hit like cold water on a
hundred-degree day. She yanked away and he pinned her down.

“What just happened? Did I do something you didn’t like?”
The genuine concern in his gaze made her feel lower than dirt.

“I got nervous that you might not like what you see.” Her
voice shook, and tears flooded her eyes. She’d never wanted anyone to see her
so vulnerable again, let alone this beautiful man.

“No.” He caressed the hair back from her face. “You’re
beautiful, Juliette. Don’t doubt that. I want to kill the person who made you
feel this with my bare hands. Who did this?” He ground his teeth together.

“No one important.”

“Let me decide that.” His eyes burned with the light of
indignation, turning so dark they looked black.

“Peter.”

“Peter who?”

“Peter Stant.”

His jaw ticked. “What happened?”

“I made a poor choice for a boyfriend. I missed all the
flags and I stayed too long…earning me a few souvenirs.” Her voice sounded cool
and detached. But it was all she could do not to crawl out of her skin.

“You never have to worry about that with me, okay? I promise
you that. If I ever see this guy he will pay for this. Did you ever tell anyone?”

His words were a balm to her frayed nerves. He didn’t think
she was stupid or weak. There was no hint of it being her fault. Their culture
had a horrible habit of making the victim feel like she was in the wrong. “Just
the girls and my doctor.” He moved away and she sat up, pulling her knees to
her chest as she shivered from a chill that emanated from inside her.

“I was too embarrassed to tell anyone else. I should have
known better. Things like that didn’t happen to girls like me…but it did, it
did.” The long-healed wounds ached, mocking her stupidity and silence. Her
stomach churned. Holding up her failings to the light and showing it to another
person wasn’t her idea of fun. It brought her back to the original humiliation
that came with the original admission that she was an abused woman. “I-I don’t
want to talk about this.”

“All right?” he whispered. He stroked her face with his
knuckles.

She looked into his eyes, stunned.
Is this man for real?
He
offered comfort without condemnation and a million questions.

“We all have secrets. I’m not going to force you to air
yours until you’re ready—if you ever are.” A kindred spirit, she sensed a
tragedy touching his life. It had shaped and forged him in the same way. His
respect of her wishes and the careful way he handled her pulled her deeper into
his web.

His featherlight caresses on her arm loosened the knot in
her belly.

She nodded, unable to speak around her swollen throat. As
far as she was concerned, this man now hung the moon. The scars on her heart
faded a bit more as she fell harder. This was not a man who’d force her into
sexual situations she had no interest in. He made her feel like she was enough.
There would be no endless parade of women she was expected to watch fuck him.

“Just like I showed you how good sex can be, I’ll show you
what a real man is. A man who puts his hands on a woman is a coward.” An ugly
sneer twisted his lips. The disgust showed his outrage on her behalf. “You’re
mine now, Juliette. I take care of what’s important to me. If you ever feel
even the slightest bit uncomfortable, you call me and I’ll take care of the
issue.”

There had never been a male there to protect her. Even
before Peter. Now this strong, capable man was practically pledging himself to
her. He removed her hands from her knees and she slid back, watching him as he,
kissed her belly gently, playfully nipping and laving her skin with his tongue,
as if he could baptize her in his essence and exorcise the demons of her past.
His gentle care made her tear up.

Shooter lifted his dark head. “You’re always safe with me,
baby. I may yell and we might have some knock-down drag-outs because I’m a
hardheaded bastard, but I’ll never put my hands on you.” He cocked his head.
“Do you believe me?”

“Yes.” Her heart bled as she gave a large chunk of trust to
a man. A gift she hadn’t been sure she’d ever be able to present again. She
cherished the softer side he trusted her enough to see. This wasn’t the Shooter
everyone else saw. Out in the world he was guarded and gruff, an impenetrable
mass of a man who intimidated others. Alone he peeled back the layers and made
her feel like the only woman in the world who mattered.

His body covered hers. She welcomed the warm weight of his
lower body pressing her into the bed. He captured her breast with his mouth.
Streaks of pleasure ran down her body, shifting the mood from sadness to
rebirth. He ground into her, teasing her slick entrance with his cock as he
stroked between her lips over and over, stimulating her clit.

Their bodies moved together in a silent dance and she
greedily drank in all he had to offer. A few more thrusts and she came undone
beneath him. Flashes of white detonated behind her eyes. Her body convulsed as
she transcended pleasure. This dangerous man had put a measure of healing on
her no amount of medicine or psychiatrists had been able to accomplish.

Grunting, he moved his head up and buried his face in her
neck. “I want to be inside you so bad it hurts, baby. Are you on birth
control?”

“No.” Her voice shook.

“I’m clean. I can show you my papers. I want to get you on
birth control so I can come inside you.”

The idea sent a thrill through her. It awakened something
primal in her, knowing he wanted to claim her so desperately.

He smiled. “You like that?”

“Yes. I’m clean too.”

“I figured as much, baby girl.” The endearment wrapped
around her and bound them as surely as a rope. They were sharing something
tangible she couldn’t name. A meeting of tattered souls brought together by
fate. “I’m close, baby. Can I come on you? Rub my seed over your skin and
pretend it’s inside that tight pussy of yours?”

“Oh yes.”

The room went silent except for his ragged breathing. The
cords of muscles in his neck and arms strained. A low moan filled the room and
he pulled out, painting her belly and chest white. The sticky, hot liquid
banished the lingering chill. Whatever existed between them wouldn’t be ignored
or pushed aside.

Juliette glanced at herself in the mirror and scowled. What
the hell did you wear to a party at a M.C. Club? Shooter assured her whatever
was comfortable would be good but she didn’t want to stick out like a sore
thumb. This would be her first official showing as his old lady. It made her
feel like a prize pony in a contest. In the end, she opted for a pair of dark
skinny jeans and a flowing black tank top with silver straps. She’d exchanged
heels for a pair of black combat boots she’d bought the first week she and
Shooter had been together.

Things had been going well for them. What if they didn’t
like her? What if she offended someone? Her stomach tightened, like a shirt
shrinking after being submerged in cold water. After fluffing the hair she’d
wrapped in curling rods the night before, she placed her hands on her hips.

“This is as good as it’s going to get, Moore.” Sticking her
tongue out, she laughed at her silliness. Being with Shooter brought out her
playful side. He made life seem a lot more exciting and carefree. It was hard
to be a bundle of nerves when the person you were with avoided stress like the
plague. His unique take on the world made for interesting conversations.

The familiar rumble of his motorcycle vibrated the air and
she grinned. Grabbing her black purse, she hurried out of the room to the front
door and opened it. Eager to meet the men he considered family and see how
Shooter lived, her body tingled.

“Hi.” She pushed forward on the balls of her feet, and he
grinned, giving her a slow once-over.

“I think that’s some sort of record.”

“You never have to wait on me.”

“No, but I don’t think you’ve ever met me in the driveway.”

“I missed you?”

“Yeah, it’s been a long five hours.”

“Shut up, Shooter.”

His deep chuckle made her stomach flutter. The intensity
between them never faded. One look and her panties were drenched. So much that
she’d started stashing extra pairs in handy places.

The look on Joey’s face when Juliette had shoved a pair of
thong underwear in the inner pocket of her purse and zipped it shut had been
priceless. After her quick explanation of what she’d done, Joey had whispered,
“I have to get me one of those.” It still made Juliette smirk.

Shooter handed her the black helmet he’d had customized with
an Old English
J
in white. Placing it on her head, he tightened the
chinstrap, and she climbed behind him like a pro. She’d come to enjoy riding
bitch.

“Anything I need to know before we get there?” she asked.

“Same as usual—any problems, let me know. I’m going to
introduce you to some old ladies. They’ll look out for you. I think you’ll like
Prez’s old lady, Boston. She’s a firecracker but fair and down to earth unless
you rile her up. Which I can’t see you doing.”

“Thanks?” she queried. He laughed and faced forward.
Clutching his waist, she leaned in against his back as he pulled out of the
driveway and onto the road. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the wind in her face
as it blew her hair out behind her.

With Shooter, the normal things didn’t apply. He liked her
dressed up the same way he did dressed down, just out of bed, sweaty from the
gym. When there was no need to put on airs or live through the
pretend-to–be-perfect phase most couples did, you got to the heart of things in
a direct manner.

They pulled up to the gated facility and her mouth became a
desert. The scantily clad women entering the building ahead of her made her
swallow hard. Someone ran down to open the gate and Shooter pulled in, parking
his bike a few yards down from the others. Once the kickstand was lowered, he
moved off and offered his hand. She took it and pursed her lips.

“Don’t be nervous, baby. They’ve been looking forward to
meeting the woman who tamed me.”

She snorted. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“That’s because you’re smart.” He wrapped his arm around her
shoulders and guided her into the large warehouse-like building. Loud rock and
roll spilled from the inside as they approached the entryway. Shooter opened
the door and she preceded him inside.

Bodies filled every available space. Pool tables lined the
far back corner of the large room and a bar took up one wall. Her gaze darted
around as she attempted to take it all in. Men clad in everything from leather
pants to worn denim in familiar, black vests with the Lords emblem on it filled
the space. Women in booty shorts, tiny skirts and suggestive dresses hung on
their arms, against the bar and lounged on couches.

A glance down at her outfit made her want to go back and
rethink her choice. Shooter hugged her to him.

“I’m going to introduce you to a few people.”

Nodding, she leaned into him, trying to avoid bumping others
in the crowded area. Imaginary daggers pricked her as women narrowed their eyes
and followed her progression. Were these all women Shooter had slept with?

Her stomach ached. She couldn’t measure up to these twiggy
frames. Sweeping the crowd again, she noted the absence of African Americans.
There was a vest-less man in the back and a sizeable number of brown-skinned
men and women she thought might be of Spanish decent.

“Hey. Is this the old lady?” someone with a loud voice
boomed. Jumping slightly, she looked up and grinned at the familiar face. The
large, burly man with a thick, full beard, laughing blue eyes and hands the
size of hams patted Shooter on the shoulder.

“You actually made an honest man out of the fucker. Congrats
to both of you. I thought for a minute Shooter was making that up, eh.” He
grinned, and his brilliant whites chased away the scary impression she’d
received the first time she met him.

“Nice to see you again, Moose.” Unable to resist his
charisma, she beamed.

“You guys want a drink?”

“Hell, yeah.” Shooter nodded. She could see how at home he
was here, though his demeanor remained the same.

“Please,” she added.

“Come on. Let’s hit the bar.”

Lined up at the bar a few minutes later they were greeted by
a porcelain-skinned redhead.

“Hey, Red, can I get a beer?”

“Sure, Moose.” Leaning forward to show off the swell of her
obviously inflated breasts, she leered at Shooter. “And what can I get for
you?”

Narrowing her eyes, Juliette clenched her teeth. The blatant
offer scraped her nerves raw. The muscle in her cheek ticked.

“A beer’s fine and,” Shooter turned to Juliette, “what’ll
you have, baby?”

This bitch’s heart on a platter.
She’d never been
catty or aggressive but she knew in order to be in his world she’d have to
learn.

“Rum and Coke.”

“And a rum and Coke, Red.”

“Coming right up.” Turning away, she set the beers in front
of Moose and Shooter and began to make Juliette’s drink.

“I’ve never seen you around,” Red said, mad-dogging Juliette
as she sloppily made her drink.

“This is my old lady, Juliette.”

Red’s eyes went as round as dinner plates and Juliette
smirked.
Checkmate.

Clearly stunned, Red handed over the drink silently. The
malice visible in the depths of her blues told Juliette she’d best watch her
back.

“Yo, Red, another round this way.”

“Duty calls.” Red turned to serve the group at the end of
the bar.

“Come on, baby girl, I see Prez over there with Boston. I
want to introduce you.”

After swirling her drink to mix the alcohol with the soda,
she brought the glass to her lips and took a giant gulp. “Okay.” They navigated
the dimly lit, smoky room, and her heart sped.

Prez was a giant man who made her want to run screaming in
the opposite direction. Burly, bald and rocking scruff, he had stone-colored,
old eyes. He was a man who’d seen a lot. Scars lined his neck and forearms.

“Prez, this is my old lady, Juliette.”

“Welcome to the family. I heard a lot about you.” His
sandpaper-rough voice caused goose bumps to erupt on her arms.

“Good things, I hope?” she squeaked.

“Oh, yeah. This is my old lady, Boston.”

“Hi, Juliette, nice to meet you.” She held out her hand. The
petite brunette with large amber-colored eyes fringed with dark lashes had a
striking, oval-shaped face with high cheekbones and dusky pink lips.

“Likewise.” Juliette shook her hand, warmed by the genuine
kindness she saw.

“Why don’t you show her around while Shooter and I talk
shop?” Tiny asked.

“Come on, Juliette, I’ll introduce you to some of the
girls.”

Casting a forlorn look at her giant security blanket, she
followed Boston.

“I’m going to take you by the office so we can talk,” Boston
called over the noise. Juliette nodded. They made their way down a hallway and
slipped into a large office.

“This is Tiny’s office. No one will wander back here.”
Boston perched on the edge of the wooden furniture and motioned to the chair in
front of her. Juliette sank into it.

“I don’t do this for all the girls, but one look at you and
I knew you were clueless about the lifestyle. Not having this talk would be
like leaving you to the wolves.”

Juliette winced. “That obvious, huh?”

“It’s not a bad thing. Some of these girls have been wrung
out wet and hung to dry. My dad was in a M.C. back home, so I knew about them.
Never thought I’d date a biker personally, not after the hell it caused my
mother. But then I met Tiny…and the heart wants what the heart wants.” She
shrugged.

“Tell me about it,” Juliette whispered.

Boston threw back her head, letting loose a loud,
full-bellied laugh. “It got you too, huh?”

“Big-time.”

“Every M.C. has its own quirks, and Lords is no different. A
lot of places keep their old ladies completely separate from the club business
and only allow them in the building during family days. We have some members
who follow that line of thinking. Others like Tiny bring their old ladies along
when the mood strikes them. Most important thing to remember is what goes on
here stays here. You can’t run your mouth about other people’s business. We
can’t have tension in the club. Think of it like the armed forces. At the end
of the day all the bullshit gets left at the door and only family, our inner
circle, matters.”

“It’s a big deal Shooter brought me tonight?”

“Huge. He’s showing the sweet butts and cycle chasers he’s
off the market. I’m not saying they won’t test his resolve, but they won’t do
it in front of you. It’s against the rules. Old ladies are high on the totem
and they’re cannon fodder.” Her upper lip curled. “Bottom dwellers, most of
them. A few are decent.”

“How do you deal with all this?”

“Me personally? By any means necessary.” The friendliness
and compassion left her voice, and her delicate face turned to granite. She
reminded her of a carved angel statue. “I’ve busted bitches’ heads open, had
them banned, whatever it took to get my point across. Being with Prez, everyone
is vying for your position by his side. So my experiences are worlds away from
the ones you’ll have.”

Astounded by the fresh batch of information, Juliette
nodded.

“Don’t let what I’ve said scare you. It’s a great life. This
family takes care of its own and lives away from the pressures society places
on people. You just have to be willing to flex a little muscle every now and
then.” Boston curved her right arm, displaying well-developed biceps, and
Juliette snickered.

“For Shooter I think I could manage. I got a crazy side. I
just try not to access it on a regular basis.”

“I thought I sensed that about you.” Boston winked. “There
are some good girls here tonight. I’ll introduce you and bring you back to
Shooter before he gets too worried. It’s fun seeing this side of him. I could
see the concern mounting in his eyes when you moved out of view.”

“Really?” Intrigued, she leaned forward in her chair.
“What’s he like?”

“Funny, cool, calm, collected and bad-ass. All the things
that attracted you to him in the first place, must be a byproduct of all that
time he spent in the military.”

“That was my thought too.” Juliette nodded in agreement.

“Come on, I think we could both use another drink, and Anisa
and Rikki are dying to meet you. There aren’t too many old ladies around here.”

Returning to the crowd with a lot more confidence, she found
herself able to enjoy the experience. They were people she’d never come into
contact with if it weren’t for Shooter. They were all bigger than life, blunt,
and yet, a sense of camaraderie existed between them. Treated with respect by
the people she met and taken under the wings of Rikki, Anisa and Boston, she
was high on success and buzzed when they returned to Shooter, Tiny and Moose.

“Hey, baby, how’re you doing?” He scanned her face. The
visible concern sent a feeling she didn’t want to examine closely through her
body.

“Good.” Rising up on her tiptoes, she pressed a quick kiss
to his lips.

“They treating you right?”

“Yes,” she spoke against his lips. “I’m learning all your
secrets.”

“Baby, that’d take a lifetime.” Twining his hands in her
hair, he deepened the lip lock, thrusting his tongue in her mouth. Lost in him
she whimpered when he broke their lip lock. “Which is exactly how long it’s
going to take for me to get what I want from you.”

Her knees weakened. She wrapped her arms around his neck and
pressed against his body to keep her balance. Her mouth went dry.

“ I think we should get started, don’t you?”

He slid his hands down her back to cup her ass.

“I—” He squeezed her ass and she squeaked. Boisterous
laughter from the men and women around brought her back to earth.

“Shooter,” she hissed.

“Come on, baby girl, I’ll show you my room.” His breath
tickled her ear. After placing her on her feet, he grabbed her hand and pulled
her through the crowd, down a hallway.