Exquisite Redemption (Iron Horse MC Book 3) (4 page)

Old me, the person my mother tried to make me in to, would have snapped at him to move his fucking ass, but new me had more patience. Or at least I tried to have more patience. Plus this was the MC Scarlet was a part of so I was curious about them, but they were still standing between me and my shower. I wiped my face with the edge of my robe, the sweaty makeup leaving behind a sparkly tan stain. Yuck. Thank God for
Playboy’s
kick-ass tour bus that was crazy luxurious with for-real hot water showers—two of them. It sure beat the hell out of trying to clean up with just a sink and a washcloth.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed more men materializing around us beneath the portable sodium lights that illuminated this area of the enormous campgrounds, all watching me with expressions ranging from impassive to downright flirty. “What’s up?”

The guy blocking my way flashed me a panty-dropping smile, but he was one of those rare hot guys I didn’t have any chemistry with. If I was going to spend my last night letting my freak flag fly, it wasn’t going to be with this dark-eyed hottie. Arching my brow, I let him know with my less-than-impressed look that his smile wasn’t going to make me all starry-eyed.

One of the guys behind him snickered, but the massive Hispanic man ignored him. “Marley was sayin’ you want to go out into that mess and party tonight.”

“Oh she did, did she?”

I looked over at Marley, surprised she was getting chatty with the bikers. Her flush was highly visible beneath the bright lights and she sucked her lips in. When I narrowed my eyes at her, she blushed harder and kept sneaking glances at one of the bikers behind me. I couldn’t tell which one, just that someone had her all flustered. It would have been cute, if Marley hadn’t been getting all sparkly eyed over a biker. Unlike me, my assistant didn’t have much experience with men and what little she did was horrific. I worried about her getting hurt and gave her a warning look.

Misreading my silent glare, the big Hispanic guy took a step closer to me, his rough hands raised in a soothing manner. “Hey now, don’t get mad, she was just trying to coordinate with us so you always have someone with you to watch your back. Trust me, you lookin’ like you do is gonna be like throwing a juicy steak to a pack of starving dogs if you head out there on your own. The security they have for you is decent, but they’re also busy dealing with a lot of other shit and won’t be able to send more than a guy or two with you. That won’t be enough to keep you safe. Come party with us and you got 200 brothers makin’ sure no one touches you without your permission.”

I considered his words, taking another look around me and wrinkling my nose at the surging chaos just beyond the flimsy barriers that sectioned off where the entertainers were staying from the rest of the grounds. That was a big, big crowd and it was a mess. Suddenly I wasn’t so sure following through with my plan to find the hottest piece of ass I could was the best of ideas. Yeah, I’ve been to plenty of wild parties before, but the sheer size of the crowd had little prickles of apprehension skating up my spine. I mentally added my knife to my potential outfit for the night.

Girls gotta be prepared in this world for anything that comes her way.

If my dad was here right now, he’d be tossing my duct-taped ass into the back of his truck and getting me the hell out of here before I could blink.

The doors to the bus opened and the woman who’d sat next to me during the signing earlier, Scarlet, leapt out and into the arms of one of the big guys standing near the entrance with a happy squeal. He had long deep brown hair, a black t-shirt under his vest, and a killer smile with a gold tooth. Not Hollywood handsome, but for sure good looking in his own unique way. Scarlet’s long dark hair streamed out behind her like a banner as he spun her around and kissed her.

When they stopped locking lips, he turned and I noticed the patch that said “Thorn” on his chest. Those patches were kinda handy. It was like the badass version of those “Hello My Name Is” stickers they liked to put out at conventions and business functions. The patch on the back showed the tribal-style horse head with its flaming mane, with the words “Iron Horse MC” on the top part and Austin, Texas, on the bottom.

Scarlet smiled when she spotted me standing next to my escort with a wide-eyed Marley at my side. “Hey, Sarah! I heard you kicked ass out there!”

“She sure did,” a sexy Asian guy wearing an Iron Horse MC vest with “Dragon” on the patch said in a suggestive tone.

I met his gaze, waiting for the fireworks that would let me know he was the one, but while there were tiny sparks, it was nothing worth pursuing. “Thanks.”

Scarlet laughed while Thorn ran his hands all over her as she tried to smack him away. “Wanna come party with us tonight? I swear
no one
is going to fuck with you while you’re with the Iron Horse MC.”

So far the guys I’d met had been good looking and nice, so I decided to take Scarlet up on her offer rather than risk being mobbed the second I stepped out of the sectioned-off and well-guarded entertainers’ area.

Two hours later, I passed the joint I’d just hit back to Thorn, squinting through the smoke at him. “Are you doubting my ability to kick your ass?”

The men in the circle with us beyond one of the bonfires laughed and I gave them a good glare before turning my attention back to Thorn. I wasn’t sure how we’d gotten into a conversation about hand-to-hand combat, but he was irritating me. Smoke and a bunch of the guys in the Iron Horse MC were former military and it was interesting to hear about the different training they’d received in the various branches they’d served in. We were debating the merits of different martial arts styles and Smoke, the hot Latino guy who had been my escort earlier, kept on throwing in comments I knew were supposed to irritate me.

For whatever reason, he seemed to find it hilarious to make me bitchy. While there was no sexual tension between us, and I liked his smartass sense of humor, he pissed me off with his openly misogynistic comments. I whirled around and pointed my finger at him while he shook his head at me and grinned.

Before I could fuss at him, he drawled, “You ain’t kickin’ no one’s ass in that sorry excuse for a skirt.”

Lifting my chin, I widened my stance, not letting any of these guys think for one second I was ashamed of dressing in what even I had to admit was a borderline super-duper slutty getup. I blame my current state of dress on Scarlet. She put me in this tight, awesome red sparkly tank top that did amazing things to my breasts, and I’d paired it with a flouncy black leather mini-skirt that played peek-a-boo with my lower ass cheeks. Because it was so dark out beyond the portable lights and bonfires, you couldn’t really see much in the flickering lights anyway. Out of difference to not wanting to break my ankle tonight, I wore a pair of thigh-high combat boots that made my legs look kick ass.

Not liking his condescending smirk as he pointedly stared at my super-exposed cleavage, I narrowed my eyes at Smoke. “I’ll kick your ass too, buddy. Just try me.”

Vance, an older guy I wasn’t very fond of, snorted. “Woman, you better mind your place if you don’t want a man to shut that smart mouth of yours.”

If I’d been a cat, my tail would have just stuck up straight in the air and bristled.

Before I could show that asshole that I could get him in a submission hold, a deep man’s voice spoke up loudly from behind me. “Is that any way to talk to a lady?”

Vance ran his tattooed hand over his short dark hair and looked over my shoulder with a blank expression I found chilling. “No harm meant. Just lettin’ her know threatenin’ a man like Smoke with kickin’ his ass ain’t a good idea.”

“Well…” That deep, sexy male voice came from much closer now and every single inch of my skin sang with the heavy sparks of raw sexual attraction. I really hoped he wasn’t hideous. Or married. “That’ll never be an issue ’cause Iron Horse don’t operate that way.”

“Right,” Vance said in that crazy empty voice again and I shivered.

Smoke laughed, then said as he walked away, “Careful, Prez, she’s a handful.”

I wanted to ask Smoke what he was talking about, but strong, warm, rough,
big
hands gently held my shoulders and I sucked in a deep breath, thrown by my insanely intense reaction to this mystery man.

My world narrowed as I spun around and looked up into the rugged face of the man whose voice made my pussy tingle with interest. I took my time examining him while my hormones purred. Letting myself properly drink him in, I stared at his beat-up leather vest covered with a bunch of patches, then my gaze slowly traveled over his broad chest covered in a clean white t-shirt, past the bronzed skin of his neck, and up to his dark-blond bearded face. The white fabric of the shirt set off the deep tan of his skin and I couldn’t help but notice how lean and muscled he was.

And, if the bulge in his jeans wasn’t lying, he liked me and was packing some
serious
dick.

I was in trouble.

A thrill raced through me and settled right in my rapidly swelling sex. Shit, I was getting turned on so fast it hurt. Older than me, and grown-man sexy with a visible self-confidence that made my knees weak. My own personal kryptonite. It certainly didn’t help that I was high as fuck at the moment, and enjoying the courage it gave me to tempt this commanding man.

What can I say, I have daddy issues. Show me a man in a position of authority, more than a few years older than me, and my hormones went into overdrive. I know part of it has to do with the fact that my first real boyfriend was a lot older than me. His name was Morrie and he was way sexier than his name.

I’d fallen deeply in love for the first time and at sixteen, I was putty in his hands. I think in many ways he shaped me sexually. And probably emotionally. Blah, I did not want to think about him right now. Being with him had been the dysfunctional cherry on top of the fucked-up, crazy sauce sundae that was my life. I’d left my mother’s house and moved in with him, living a spoiled life filled with shopping, champagne, and lots of high-quality cocaine my mother was only too happy to snort up with me.

The old familiar urge to go find some coke pushed at the mental box I kept it locked up in, but not hard. After a terrible night, during which Morrie had discovered how old I really was (my mom had lied and provided me with ID that said I was twenty-one), I’d almost OD’d, sure my life was going to be shit without him there to guide me, protect me, and love me like I’d never been loved. For the first time in my life I’d felt safe, even if I totally wasn’t, and it had all been ripped away from me.

Led Zeppelin started playing from a big set of speakers and I was drawn into the haunting melody as the opening of “Stairway to Heaven” began to roll through the hot summer evening. The weed must have been stronger than I thought because I had no idea how long I’d been standing there, staring at the handsome face half covered by a thick blond beard and lost in my own thoughts. Any normal human being would have said hello by now. The only solace I had to my unusual inability to speak was that the man was as quite as I was, despite how closely we stood together.

He was naturally blond like me, so his thick hair glinted in the light of the fire, casting shadows over a roughly hewn face. In a way he reminded me of the movie star Daniel Craig, but with a beard. His lips were thin, firm, and I just knew he would be a man who took control of a kiss. That invisible aura of authority that I find so sexy? He had it in spades. I was almost afraid to meet his gaze, afraid of the consequences of what would happen if I did. This was one of those times when I could literally feel the course of my life turning, like Fate was adding a twist in her loom that would take me in a whole new direction.

Of course, I could just be high, but when I finally stared up into his dark gaze in the flickering light of a roaring bonfire, I was tempted to put my hand to my chest to see if it was indeed vibrating with the hard thump of my heart as a visceral shock rolled through me.

While I stared at him, his lip crooked up in the corner. “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. What’s your name, beautiful?”

Blinking at him, I tried to formulate a thought, dimly aware that Scarlet was calling my name.

I ignored her. Entranced by the tightly muscled man now looming over me, I breathed out, “Sarah.”

“Sarah,” he purred. “Pretty name for a pretty girl. You come up here with anyone?”

Well, I’d come up with a couple busloads of people, but he didn’t seem to recognize me and I liked that. “Nope. Just some girlfriends.”

“Not with any club?”

“Nope.”

The smile that curved his lips was positively wicked and my pussy tingled hard enough for me to press my legs together.

Oh no, he had demon dick.

That’s what I called men who could make me wet, even if it was against my will, with merely a smile. I had a boss like that once. He was a complete and utter asshole, but that didn’t stop my body from wanting him. Fortunately, my ex-boss didn’t have a very powerful demon dick, but the blond man eye-fucking me sure did. I’d bet my last penny he had a big one and knew how to use it.

Smoke strolled up to us, a woman on either arm and a shit-eating grin stretching his handsome face. “Hey, Beach.”

“Beach? That’s your name?” I asked, snapped out of my trance by the decidedly unfriendly look the blonde chick on the left was giving me and the odd nature of the delicious blond man’s name.