Exquisite Redemption (Iron Horse MC Book 3) (27 page)

“Time to eat.”

I dropped Mimi’s arm and strode up the steps then grabbed Sarah and stole a kiss. “I’m starving.”

Cheeks pink, she avoided Mimi’s eyes and hurried inside.

We ate quickly and fielded questions from both our mom’s, our hands meeting beneath the table as I slid my fingers between hers. I couldn’t be near her and not want to touch her. She was too filled with the kind of warmth a man could get addicted to. My mom and Sarah were getting along great and it did my soul good to know they’d be friends. Mimi was still giving me the occasional odd look, but I ignored her. 

A text alert came from my phone, the chime letting me know it was one of my Enforcers, Hustler.

Excusing myself from the table, I went back outside, taking a quick look around before calling Hustler.

“Hey Prez.”

“What’s up?”

“Got someone at the clubhouse who wants to talk to you.”

“Whoever it is, they can wait.”

“It’s Kostya Boldin.”

My gut clenched and a sour taste entered my mouth at the mention of Kostya’s name. He was here to talk about moving some of the Boldin
Bratva’s
merchandise. I wasn’t quite sure what it was yet, other than it wasn’t drugs or people, and that left either cash or weapons. Anything else they could get through their legitimate business empire.

No, they’d only need us for the really dangerous shit, and it made the hair on my arms stand up. If Kostya was here, I needed to speak with him face-to-face, no matter how much I wanted to spend the rest of my life in bed with Sarah.

“Got it. I’ll be there soon.”

“You bringin’ Sarah?”

“Why?”

Hustler cleared his throat. “Some of the boys are gonna be partying it up soon. Pup graduated from EMT school yesterday. Might get a little rough around here.”

I sighed. Knowing Pup, there would be pussy crawling outta the woodwork tonight. Maybe I should just leave Sarah here, but I got this feeling in my gut that I needed to keep her close right now. Not just ’cause I want her with me for personal, selfish reasons, but because Mimi’s words were rattling around in my head. That and the genuine fear she’d shown when she talked about Sarah running off.

“Sarah’s comin’. She partied with us up in Sturgis so she understands how wild we get.”

“Yeah, but we both know when the boys let loose at the clubhouse, it ain’t for the eyes of old ladies.”

“Rather be honest with her about it than bullshit her.”

Hustler gave a choked laugh. “Okay, it’s your funeral, man.”

I might give Hustler’s words some consideration if he wasn’t such a screwup in the relationship department. He picked these fucked-up, broken women to latch on to. Right now he was doing our brother Trick’s little sister Veronica, but they weren’t monogamous and he was still nailing his regular pussy on the side. Smoke’s sister-in-law was a nice enough woman when she was in a good mood, but she could get evil. Then again, none of that shit was any of my business. I had enough going on without worrying about other people’s relationships.

“Make sure my room is ready, and cleared of sluts. I am off the fuckin’ market and I don’t cheat. Period.”

“Know that, brother.”

“I’ll need you and Hulk to watch over her.”

“You got it.”

I knew Hustler would try to charm her, but I was equally sure Sarah could handle him without missing a beat. Damn it was nice having a strong woman. Took a burden off me to know she wasn’t some cute little baby bunny who could get easily killed. Any man who took her on would regret it, but I’d rather her not have to endure any bullshit.

“Just keep the bitches away from her. I know how women are, they’ll want to test her, and a lot of them might feel the need to give her shit. Your job is to intercept them and keep her entertained.”

“So I get to hang around Miss March all night guarding that slammin’ body of hers? Can’t say I’m sad about it.”

“Fuck off. You best respect her or you will be in a world of fuckin’ hurt. She’s wearin’ my patch tonight.”

“I’ll let Hulk know.”

We exchanged goodbyes, then I headed inside, my body warming at the sight of my girl looking at me with a worried expression. “We’re going to the clubhouse?”

I jerked my head in surprise. “Yeah, I was gonna tell you to find something warm to wear on the back of my bike. How’d you know that?”

“Sarah can read lips,” Mimi chimed in as she braided Sarah’s hair back in a tight French braid. “And so can I. If she’s going to be on your motorcycle, she needs her hair braided or it’s going to knot up.”

Birdie spoke up from the living room. “Got Peaches bringing over some clothes for her.”

“Why? What she’s wearin’ is fine.”

A million invisible daggers of disgust hit my skin as all four women whipped around to look at me. “What?”

My mama's voice came out tight as she said, “You are not taking her to meet all those club members, for the first time, without giving her a chance to make a good first impression, are you?”

That was one of those riddles women liked to give men in order to drive them crazy. “Mama, she’s so beautiful, all she’s gotta do is breathe and she outshines every woman around her.”

Sarah cleared her throat, bringing my attention back to her. As she looked up at me with her hair pulled back tight from her face, I marveled at the perfect symmetry of her features and her big blue eyes. Lost in how pretty she was, my senses dulled by admiring the woman that was mine, I missed how her big blue eyes weren’t flashing with adoration, but rather with irritation—with me.

“It’s sweet you think that, but I am not the kind of woman who will ever not enjoy being a woman. I like dressing up, I like looking good, I like wearing nice clothes and looking professional, or sexy, or whatever else I may be in the mood for. The fourth bedroom in my house had to be converted into a wardrobe. The whole damn thing. Gives me a tingle just to think about it. Anyways, if I was back home, I’d be going through my closet trying to find the perfect thing to wear so you’re proud to have me on your arm. Since I’m stuck here, with you, I’m at the mercy of the fashion gods to find the right outfit to wear for this occasion, but I will be damned if I go to your clubhouse in fucking flip-flops!”

My throat was tight with the effort to hold back my laughter. Damn, she could go off when she was pissed. It was fuckin’ cute. She lost me for a bit while she rambled about chick shit, but I honed in on the last part. “I’m proud no matter what you look like.”

“Yes, but you like to show me off. I could tell that about you right away. You back your words up with actions, and in this case, you get off on men looking at, wanting, what they can’t have. You like to have the best toys that no one else can play with, what they covet and you own.”

“Goodness,” my mama said from where she’d been wiping down the counters with a wide smile. “She knows you, Carlos.”

Sarah leaned forward so Mimi could finish the long braid. I wanted to hold on to it while I fucked her from behind. Hard. 

A giggle came from behind me and I knew Birdie was eating this shit up. I didn’t let anyone talk to me this way, ever, but I couldn’t bring myself to interrupt her while she was on a rip because it was fucking hilarious. Hiding my smile was getting harder and harder as she wrinkled her nose at me.

“And since I know this about you, I want to make a good first impression not only for you, but for me. For all intents and purposes I’m meeting part of your extended family tonight. Oh, and don’t forget all the sweet butts that’ll be there. If you think I’m sporting the white trash tourist look around those women, you are out of your mind.”

The women all looked at me with loathing, like it was me who was personally inviting the club bunnies to come frolic.

“Those harlots,” Birdie chimed in, “would cut Sarah down if she showed up in that outfit, patch or not.”

“Birdie, we’re bikers. No one gives a shit about fashion.” They all sighed in disgust at once and it put my back up a bit. “What? It’s true.”

“You men don’t,” my mama put in with a lip curl, “but I guarantee you those loose women at your clubhouse do. Looks is everything to them, so to have Sarah stroll in there all dolled up will put them in their place. And if that doesn’t work, Sarah’s assured me she can fight quite well in high heels. Mimi over there even showed us a couple moves. She does yoga and let me tell you, that shit pays off. Limber little thing. Bet that’ll work out well for me getting my grandbabies sooner than later.”

I held up both my hands and began to back out of the room. I was done with this conversation, D.O.N.E. done. “I’m gonna go get dressed, do some business back in the office parlor. Y’all have fun up here. Keep in mind we don’t got a lot of time, hour at most before we will have to go, no bullshittin’ around.”

“Got it,” Sarah said in a strong voice, her gaze locked on mine. “Chances are someone may be there tonight who was part of the failed plot. I’ll keep my eyes and ears open. I will also be carrying your Ruger SR40 in a belly band. Well, it’s actually a yoga tank top rolled down and modified, but it works. I’ll have two extra clips with me.”

Once again, she gave my view of reality a little shove that kept me off balance. Why was it so hard for me to believe that she is both perfect, and lethal? Life and death. She’s a woman of extremes right now and I wonder if she’ll ever balance out and find a happy medium. I wonder if she can even see the chaos she swirls in so adeptly. I can calm those seas, give her a safe and protected harbor in the storm. I’ll never take away her guns, but I hope to someday be able to take away her need to wear them everywhere.

“Always prepared, though I’m hopeful we’ll have a nice relaxin’ night.”

I gave Sarah another kiss, ignoring the way the women tittered as we stared into each other’s eyes, then went to get ready for the next round of bullshit in my life. Being with Sarah was like finding moments of true peace in the unrest of my world. It was a rare and precious commodity, something I swore I’d never feel again after some of the shit I’ve lived through. There have been months, years, where I haven’t felt a moment of calm before I’d get a small respite from the violence to carry me through. With Sarah, I lived in peace, enjoying it and adjusting to the relief it was trying to give my fucked-up psyche.

Our lips met a few more times before we tried to drag ourselves away.

“We’re gonna be one of those,” Sarah said in a breathy voice.

“Those?”

“Yeah, those PDA couples. You seem to like snuggling up to me in public.”

Smiling down at her, I enjoyed the teasing fire in her eyes. “Looks like it.”

“Hmm, I’ve never been in one of those relationships before.”

“Stop bein’ so damn cute and get ready. I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said we gotta move.”

Birdie peered out the window, her golden hair shinning in the sun. “Peaches is pullin’ up right now. Good lord, she has enough clothes with her to open her own store. Oh, she brought her chaps! Girl, you have to wear those.”

Giving Sarah a wink that made her smile, I turned away and took out my phone, taking care of business while my girl fancied herself up.

Chapter 14

Sarah

I
tried to relax as I left the house with Beach, holding his hand as he led me to where his brothers were waiting. They’d all roared up to Birdie’s ranch about ten seconds after I was done getting ready and I hadn’t had time to crap my pants about how many people were out there. At least two dozen bikes and let me tell you, it was impressive to see them all move in unison as they circled around the massive bricked courtyard out front of the main house.

It wasn’t until I held Beach’s hand in mine as I strutted next to him, in a pair of stretchy jeans that fit like a glove and black leather chaps, that I realized I was the only chick in a massive sausage fest.

Everywhere I turned were hot, and not-so hot, and really-not-hot-in-any-way-shape-or form bikers of every age, from a cute black guy who was probably in his late teens like me, to a man with a braided white beard that hung down his chest and six teeth.

And they were all staring at me.

While I’d like to think it was because I looked cute with my makeup done, and a tight black mock turtleneck half-shirt showing my belly, they were all staring at the fashion accessory Beach had added to my outfit.

A black leather vest that fit me perfectly with “Property of Beach” expertly sewn in bright white thread on the back.

Yep, somehow in the last five minutes, I’d officially become Beach’s old lady.

I couldn’t help it. Birdie had stayed up all night getting the vest ready for me and she’d been positively beaming when Beach slid it over my shoulders. As if that wasn’t bad enough, Mouse had begun to cry like she’d just seen us get married, welcoming me to her family and telling me how thankful she was to have me in her life. Mimi had kept quiet, but when I finally turned to her, all she’d done was sigh, then give me a big hug. Beach had gotten a glare and a handshake.

My…boyfriend? Or was it old man, or my biker husband? Either way, he’d looked at me with so much affection and pride, I couldn’t take it off.

So now, in a moment of what had to be lovesick stupidity, I’d become forevermore known as the Property of Beach Rodriguez by my own impulsive choice.

Fuck me.

Beach’s hand tightened around mine as he led me to a super-cool looking black bike with flame-colored pin striping and the Iron Horse MC logo on the gas tank. I don’t know much about motorcycles, but even I could tell it was old and in pristine condition.

Next to the bike stood a curvy woman dressed in an oddly attractive retro outfit. Baggy khaki pants paired with black riding boots and a cute, almost military-looking jacket. Her helmet was dark brown with a faint trace of sparkles and I instantly adored the red lipstick she wore so well. The jacket was unzipped a bit to show her chest, and I noticed she had an interesting heart-shaped lock tattooed between her breasts, with flowers embellishing it.

“Maggie,” Beach said with a fond grin that creased his face. “Thanks for bringin’ my baby.”

Smiling at Beach, Maggie turned her friendly brown eyes on me. “So this is Mrs. Beach Rodriquez. She’s absolutely gorgeous. Well done.”

I flushed at the obvious heat in the other woman’s gaze, and Beach growled. “Mine.”

Maggie laughed, her voice loud and clear, before she shook her head at Beach. “Hulk was right, it is gonna be fun watchin’ you around her.”

With a sigh, Beach gently knocked on her helmet. “I mean it, hands off.”

“You know I’m teasing. Besides, I’m a happily married woman now and you know my wife would kill me if I so much as commented on your woman’s body—which is outstanding.” She turned her attention away from Beach then winked and held out her hand to me. “Nice to meet you, Sarah. I’m Maggie, Beach’s cousin.”

“Nice to meet you as well, Maggie.”

Sliding his arm around me, Beach guided me to his bike. “Let’s go.”

After putting a black helmet with a face shield on me, he then put on his own black helmet that was made of this neat stuff that kind of looked like graphite.

The ride wasn’t a long one, but I enjoyed spending that time pressed close to Beach and watching the world’s reaction to our passing as if we were a parade or something. Beach and I were at the front of the long line of bikes, along with some older black man with long grey dreads who rode next to us. His patch said “Road Captain” and I wondered what that meant but quickly lost interest as I sank into Beach’s big, rock-solid body cradled between my thighs.

Even though we were out in public, I felt like we were moving in our own bubble of privacy, and the ride on his bike took on an intimate mood as I cuddled him close. We were so tightly pressed together that I moved with his every breath, and soon found myself matching his inhalations, our bodies shifting as one while we roared down the highway. Occasionally he’d reach back and give my thigh a quick rub before returning both hands to the gleaming handlebars of his vintage bike.

When we took an exit outside of the city, the sky had darkened to the point I could easily see the mass of lights up on the side of a hill we were driving towards. We’d passed a gas station right off the freeway, but other than that there was really nothing out here. It was amazing how barren the land could get outside of the city and I had a sudden yearning for my dad’s place out in the country. I swear the air out there was sweeter, and the sun shone brighter without all the chaos of civilization.

We passed through two sets of gates, and I had to smile at the way the men guarding them chin-lifted to us, but didn’t wave.

The paved road we drove up was smooth beneath the tires of Beach’s rumbling bike, and I eased my grip up as we slowed and got closer to the three-story building surrounded by freshly mowed grass and woods.

Made up of deep red brick, the building had a sharply pitched slate roof and, oddly enough, a huge playground off to the side. All of the windows had bars on them and a pair of double doors on the main level were thrown wide open, letting the parking lot see what was going on inside the building as darkness fell. I blinked in shock as we drove past the open doors of the clubhouse to the side of the large paved lot, trying to tell myself I hadn’t just seen some old dude’s balls. No, it couldn’t be. It had to be some liver-spotted Silly Putty stuck between his legs covered in dog hair.

The bike slowed and I scrunched up my shoulders, trying to banish that visual from my head.

Once the big motorcycle was quiet, Beach got off then helped me, his eyes intent on me as I took in the club.

His rough fingers caressed my chin and he leaned forward, rubbing his nose against mine as he said, “If I kiss you, is your lipstick gonna rub off on me?”

“Nope.”

He chuckled as I closed the distance between us, going up on my tiptoes as I combed my fingers through his thick hair.

A few sharp whistles rent the air, along with some catcalls, as Beach gripped my ass with both of his big hands and lifted me closer, nipping my lower lip before releasing me with a wolfish smile.

While I knew he’d enjoyed the kiss, I was also aware it was a very branding move on his part. “What, your name on my back isn’t sign enough that I’m your girl? Need to give a little visual evidence?”

He chuckled, but whispered in my ear, “Watch the snark right now,
mi corazón
.”

I wanted to argue with him, but I knew now wasn’t the time or place, so I just nodded. According to Birdie, I needed to play the role of a good old lady if I wanted to make a good first impression, and I did. While this world was new to me, and these people strange, I wanted them to like me because I cared about Beach and he cared about them.

“Good.” He looked over my shoulder. “Hustler, stop starin’ at my woman’s ass and get over here.”

The handsome Latino man with a goatee and hazel-green eyes who headed our way seemed familiar, but it wasn’t until he opened his mouth that I remembered where I’d seen him before. He was the guy who wanted Beach’s well trained sloppy seconds.

While most women would have swooned over his charming smile, I didn’t buy his bullshit for a moment. “Can’t help my eyes gazing on perfection.”

“You can if I rip them out,” I informed him.

Hustler raised his hands in a placating gesture while people around us chuckled and Beach sighed. “Sorry, sorry. I won’t look.”

More people poured out into the parking lot and many of them called out greetings to Beach.

“Sarah.” Beach caught my attention as I noticed the ratio of scantily dressed women joining the men, some of them with their tits hanging out and fresh hickies on their bodies. “Babe.”

“What?”

“I got some business to handle with people who have already been waitin’ here for me a long time.”

“Okay.” My attention was fully on this chick who squatted against a tree at the edge of the parking lot, taking a piss. “Nasty.”

“What?”

“Sorry.” I kept my gaze on his. “What’s up?”

“Hustler is gonna watch over you while I take care of some business.”

“No way am I hanging out with Perv Merv over there. Is Smoke here?”

“Awww, come on,” Hustler said in an affronted voice. “I’m not that bad.”

“I remember you. You were the guy at the party at Sturgis who wanted to double-team me with Beach. So excuse me if I don’t feel like being your drinking buddy tonight.”

“Baby,” Beach said in a low voice, “go with Hustler.”

“Does it have to be Hustler?”

“Go with Hustler,” he repeated in a stern voice that made my hackles raise.

“Whatever.”

All the guys around me laughed and my temper wanted to spark, but I wasn’t stupid. The vast majority of these men were macho-pig badasses. Now, a guy being a badass is hard enough to deal with—they’re moody and stubborn bastards—but add in macho-pig and you had a guy who thinks women are delicate, meek little things who need a man to protect them. And if you weren’t a delicate, little meek thing, you were a bitch. Let their first impression of me be a delicate one and they’d forever underestimate me, which would work in my favor.

My pout was ruined when Beach snatched me close for another round of ass-grabbing and kissing that left me weak-kneed and smiling.

“Go with Hustler,” he whispered against my lips.

“Fine.”

“Stay out of trouble.”

“Fine.”

“Don’t antagonize anyone.”

“
Fine
.”

“And have fun.”

“Whatever.”

With that, he turned me around and gave me a swat on the ass that stung like fire and made me give a girly shriek.

I turned to glare at him, but he was already surrounded by serious men talking in low voices.

Sensing the not-so-friendly vibe coming from that way, I sauntered over to Hustler who smiled at me. “What’s your poison tonight, beautiful?”

“I’m not drinking anything but bottled water.”

“Why?”

“I’ve been roofied four times.”

“Four?”

“Four. And a couple of those times was when I had a bodyguard with me. So, in a place like this, I’ll take a sealed bottle of water, but that’s it.”

“Understood. So you don’t party at all?”

“I smoke weed, but nothing else.”

A bright, gleaming smile lit his face and he rubbed his hands together with a slap. “I know someone you need to meet.”

Half an hour later, after searching through hordes of people, I’d managed to draw the ire of just about every slut in this place. I’m not saying all the women there to party with the club and have fun were catty, some were super nice, but I’d seen more than one bitchy snarl thrown my way.

In my life, I’ve had my fair share of women who hate me on sight, especially ones who considered me competition at the strip club, so women being spiteful is nothing new to me. While I was used to the maliciousness, I wasn’t ready for the genuine sadness and yearning I saw on a lot of those women’s faces as they took in my leather vest with “Property of Beach” stitched on the back.

There were a lot of broken dreams that night and I couldn’t help but feel a little guilty for my part in crushing their hopes.

Beach had been a biker for a long, long time and no doubt in those years, more than one woman had lost her heart to him and his giant dick. That didn’t mean I was giving him up because they were bummed, and while I understood their disappointment, that also didn’t mean I’d put up with any jealous bullshit. The few women who had thrown subtle, venomous comments my way found out quick I can more than hold my own.