Hot as Hades (21 page)

“Marines are apples.” She raised her empanada. “Think about the metaphor,” she explained. “They are all American, boy next door types. Mom and apple pie and all that patriotic stuff. You are the one who is a bit different. Bikers are rebels, like avocados.”

“No, I’m an apple,” he insisted. “In fact, I think you and I are both fuckin’ apples. What’s more American than a biker?”

They were apparently having some sort of twisted form of relationship argument using produce as a metaphor. Bizarre. She couldn’t stop herself from laughing. “Clearly, a Marine. Um, hello, it doesn’t get more authentic than fighting for your country.”

“I’m not some slimy avocado,” he bitched.

She looked him up and down. “Hey, don’t knock it. I like avocados, especially in guacamole, sometimes a girl wants something spicy.”

A reluctant smile tugged at his lips. “That so?”

She bit her lower lip. “In fact, there are times I want a whole bowlful of guacamole.” Then, she brought an overloaded chip to her mouth and bit down.

Cowboy just grinned

Chapter Sixteen

Later, they pulled up to Perdition, the Four Horsemen’s clubhouse. Dozens of motorcycles crowded into the parking lot. After they pulled into a spot, she saw Pretty Boy scrubbing down bikes. He’d stripped down to the waist and had two big buckets of soapy water, sponges, and a hose.

The prospect strolled over and she couldn’t help but flash back to his sexy dance the other night. If the whole prospecting thing didn’t work out, he could always work for Chippendales.

 “Hi, Daisy,” he said, offering a smile. Then, he glanced down at the pendant Cowboy had given her and his eyes widened.

 “Sounds like you need a refresher on your club commandments,” Cowboy said quietly.

She blinked. “Club commandments?” She had the feeling some seriously fucked up shit was afoot.

“The club’s bylaws,” Cowboy explained.

Pretty Boy’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed. “Sorry about that.”

“Hey, Pretty Boy,” she said, holding out a hand to him. “It’s good to see you.”

But instead of shaking it, he glanced at Cowboy. She waved a hand in front of the prospect’s face. “Why are you looking at him? I’m the one who offered you my hand.”

Cowboy answered for the younger man. “He knows better than to touch somethin’ that belongs to another man.”

What the hell?
She whirled to face him.

Evidently, he read the question in her eyes. “You are wearing my pendant, and it means something in my world.”

She opened her mouth to argue with him, but his look silenced her, temporarily at least. She got the impression he didn’t want to hash this out in front of the prospect. Like it was an honor thin? She understood. Commanding officers didn’t argue with a colleague in front of recruits. But they would be having it out later and it wouldn’t be pretty.

 “Enough small talk,” he barked. “Get back to work.” Pretty Boy rushed off, obediently picking up a sponge, not even questioning Cowboy’s authority.

Damn. He’d have made a good drill sergeant.

He strutted to the door and she followed, but couldn’t resist a glance over her shoulder, taken in by the sight of Pretty Boy bent over and scouring. She always appreciated male beauty, in all its forms.

Cowboy put his arm around her shoulder and whispered to her, “Put your eyes back in your head, woman. He’s just a boy.”

“He’s in his twenties,” she contradicted, just to piss him off.

 “Like I said, a boy.” He tugged her along.

Once inside, he turned to face her. “I know you are pissed, but you don’t know the rules around here.” He took her by the shoulders, stared down into her eyes, pinning them. “You need to follow my lead today.”

 “You’ve met me, right?”

His face had settled into fierce lines. “Remember when I said bikers are all about respect?”

She nodded.

“I brought you to the club’s attention so I’m responsible for you and while you are carrying out club business you are also under my authority. We established that the first day in your hotel room.”

She dipped her head. She vaguely remembered something about him vouching for her to Shepherd and Captain.

 “Or do you want to be a hellion, just another piece of ass?” he asked, eyes flashing.

Point taken.
She’d had enough of that crap at the Pussycat. She certainly didn’t need it at Perdition “Anyone ever tell you bikers are a bunch of misogynistic assholes?” she grouched.

He laughed. “All the fucking time, Wildcat, still doesn’t change the lay of the land. What you do here today reflects on me. So do what you’re told and we’ll get along fine.”

She’d never seen him this demanding, and oddly enough she found it attractive.  “Thought we were just havin’ fun.”

“We are having fun,
structured
fun, which means I ain’t sharin’ you with any of my brothers, let alone a fuckin’ prospect. There is no halfway bullshit with bikers when it comes to women. You can be a hellion, available to the masses, or available to only one man. Got it?”

His statement was wrong on so many levels, yet it made her breath catch. She quickly shook it off. “Yeah, yeah, I got it. You’re a big bad biker man and you own women the way you would a laptop or a motorcycle.”

“Hardly. I wouldn’t die to protect some electronics or my ride.”

“What?”

He lifted her chin so she met his eyes. “When a woman becomes your old lady, her life becomes more important than your own. You would
anything
to keep her safe.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat.

Her world had shifted the tiniest bit. Being willing to die for someone was about as Marine-ish as it got, and she wondered, just for a minute, what it might be like to be his old lady.

They stared at one another, so many things between them. Lust, to be certain. He often stared at her like he wanted to drag her into a darkened corner and fuck the living daylights out of her. But something more as well. Something, tender that she couldn’t quite define.

He broke the tension by lifting a teasing brow. “Who’s guacamole now?”

She laughed.

He offered her a hand. “Now come on, I want to show you around.”

Perdition looked like a biker's paradise, testosterone being the major theme. He gave her the grand tour, taking her down the hallway behind the bar, passed the boardroom the club held meetings in, and dozens of rooms which lined the hallways, one of them had been left ajar and she could see a queen-sized bed inside. Evidently, the guys sometimes bunked here. At the end of the hall, were two double doors and inside, the mother of all man caves.

Cowboy called it the pinball room, and it had several big screen televisions, all tuned to various channels men might like: NASCAR, rodeo tournaments, and ESPN. There were also a couple of pinball machines along the wall, gaming systems like XBOX and Playstation. Lots of booze too, but it all seemed to all be hard liquor: Jack, Johnny, and Jim.

 In the main bar area, a couple of motorcycles hung from the ceilings by sturdy chains.
Think on Your Sins
had been painted in blood red on the wall. She assumed it was some sort of club motto, along the lines of the Marine’s
Semper Fi.

There were biker babe posters too and she also noticed the long line of lacy panties running along the walls. Evidently, Cowboy hadn’t been kidding.

She got to see some hellions firsthand, as well. But unlike the Pussycat, they weren’t dressed in some slutty uniform, and none of them appeared to be drugged. Apparently, they dressed in whatever attire they pleased and she didn’t see a stripper pole in sight.

She didn’t know exactly what she’d been expecting from the Horsemen clubhouse, but it had a warm, comforting vibe to it, a lot like the Hades Motel. After spending so much time in the pornified Raptors clubhouse, Perdition was a welcome change of pace. The Horsemen seemed like basically good people, even if they lived a bit outside the lines of the law.

“So what do you think?” he asked proudly.

She nodded as she gave the place another once over. “I like it, very homey, even though it’s a bit frat boy for my taste.”

He snorted. “Frat boys wish they were this cool.”

At the bar, several brothers drank, idly watching Texas A&M play football on the a big screen they’d hooked up out front. She recognized Voodoo and Shepherd, as well as Captain and Steele. Ryker parked himself at the opposite end of the bar, and Goat sat down beside Cowboy, but she hadn’t seen the others before. All of them, hot, though. Made her think the Raptors all got thwacked by ugly sticks as children.

 “Who’s the chick?” Goat asked Cowboy. “Saw her at Eddie’s the other day too.”

“Chick has a name,” she said in a chilly tone. “I’m Daisy. And you must be Goat?”

“Yeah,” he said with a grunt.

“She’s with me,” Cowboy said.

 Cowboy and Goat nodded at each other, having a silent conversation of sorts. She could almost hear it in her head:
Does that filly belong to you? Yep, she’s my little lady.

She shook her head.

 “Can I get you somethin’?” Fetch asked, from behind the bar. Thank God, she could use a drink.

Cowboy answered for her. “Pull us two beers.”

Shepherd pulled up a stool. “How’s it going at the strip joint?” he asked.

“Nothing new,” she answered. “We still haven’t gotten the brothel’s location.”

 “Keep at it.”

Cowboy shot a glance at Eddie and Elizabeth, who were seated at the other side of the bar. “Why don’t you go say hi to the old ladies?” he suggested. “We have some other club business to discuss.”

Evidently, these guys didn’t “talk business” in front of the women folk.
She bristled, but after taking in their grim mugs, she decided she wouldn’t push it.

Shep stood up. “Let’s go for a walk, Cowboy. We got some things to discuss.”

She watched as the two of them headed out the back door of the bar, and then grabbed the beer Fetch brought over and took a seat on a barstool next to Eddie and Elizabeth.

Both of them gawked at the necklace hanging around her neck, open-mouthed. Daisy decided it was a bit like having Harry Potter’s lightning shaped scar. People stared at the pendant the same way.

“You’re wearing Cowboy’s pendant,” Eddie pointed out.

She shrugged. “Yes, he gave it to me last night. It’s not a big deal.”

 “Oh, yes it is,” Elizabeth said with a grin. “Tell us what happened yesterday.”

The women watched her like two hawks eyeing a particularly juicy mouse, so she decided to give them a condensed version of the story. She had a feeling they’d just drag it out of her, piece by piece anyway.

 “Was he any good?” Elizabeth asked, cocking her head to the side after Daisy explained.

 “I’m not going to give you a blow by blow!” Daisy said. “So, see? The necklace is no big deal. We’re just doing a harmless fuck buddy thing.”

Elizabeth pulled out a matching necklace she’d tucked in her shirt. “Well, when I started dating Ryker, he gave me his pendant and I have name tattooed, er, somewhere as well.”

 “I did too.” Eddie flipped her wrist over to show the name,
Joker
. “When he was still alive, I wore Joker’s pendant, along with a property jacket. So, it might not mean anything to you, but trust me. Cowboy thinks you’re special. That’s why he gave you the necklace. It means you are on the road to becoming an old lady.”

When she tried to argue, Eddie cut her off. “No, trust me, honey,” she said firmly. “Whatever kind of bullshit justification he gave you, you mean something to the man or he wouldn’t have parted with the pendant. But he’s probably not even aware of it himself.”

Elizabeth grasped Daisy’s arm excitedly. “What if you become an old lady, too!? There aren’t many of us, just Eddie and Sailor from the old days, and then me. Lexie and Dani hang out with us, but they’re grown children of members. We could use a few old ladies in the ranks.”

Daisy’s eyes widened.
Woah. Too much.
She might have slept with Cowboy, but she had no intention of giving up on Fort Bliss. She still planned to find Rose and go
.
She swallowed, feeling queasy. “Well, we’ll see what happens.”

Eddie chuckled, and pulled her into a hug. “I swear to God, you could give Ryker a run for his money, back in his commitment phobic days.”

“I’m not commitment phobic, I’m—”

“Scared shitless?” Eddie replied dryly. “No point in trying to deny it, honey. It is written plain as day all over your pretty face.”

Daisy gulped, feeling like the necklace had become a cartoon ball and chain around her neck.

***

Cowboy leaned against the wall, watching Shep closely. The VP lit a cigarette and inhaled before blowing a long stream of smoke. He’d learned as a prospect Shep had some sort of Zen shit goin’ on with the way he patiently ignited a smoke and waited before speakin’.

“You slept with her, didn’t you?” he said simply.

Well, shit.
“Yes, I did,” he admitted. No point in a denial, but he didn’t apologize for it.

Shep slumped against the wall next to him. “Even though we asked you not to?”

Jesus. Talk about a guilt trip
. “I know you did, brother, but it happened. I can’t take it back and I’m sure as shit not gonna stop.” He felt this unmistakable pull towards Daisy.

“I see. And am I mistaken or was Daisy wearing your club pendant?”

“She is.” He still didn’t know what the fuck happened, but all of a sudden he’d handed it over and he had to admit, it looked damned good around her pretty little neck. It also made him crave to see his name tattooed on her back, right next to the sexy lioness tat.

“That’s a big step, brother.”

“I know,” Cowboy said.

“So, you think she can handle club life? She’s plenty tough enough, but she’s a Captain America type.” Shep blew a smoke ring, then ashed his cigarette on the ground.

“She is, but she’s had no trouble working with us, I think she’s a better fit than you might think.”