Ride of Her Life: A Biker Erotic Romance (3 page)

CHAPTER SIX

The day did
not
pass quickly. She had to eat lunch at her desk, ordered from the sandwich shop down the street, and spent the entire afternoon typing until her eyes hurt from staring at the bright screen. Eight straight hours at work after having a very exhausting night with an old flame was not good for anyone.

She hadn't mentioned it to Ray, but she was wary of being on her own at work. That kid knew her name, and apparently where she lived. He'd parked right past the complex where she lived. That definitely wasn't a coincidence. Half the day was spent watching the front door and flinching every time the bell announced a new arrival.

Thankfully nobody “biker gang” related showed up, though there was that lovely recently married couple headed off to Aruba. Mostly it was a boring, uneventful day. It was rare for Cecilia to hope for an uneventful day, but her sigh of relief at the end of it spoke volumes.

Ray showed up just as promised, trussed up in his usual grunge-tastic outfit. But hell if he wasn't drop-dead gorgeous.

“Before you ask, yes I brought the bike.” Ray made a piteous expression, pouting like a child. Cecilia laughed, pulling him down for a kiss.

“I figured that out, idiot. The whole block knows you're here.” Cecilia laced their fingers together and pulled him out the door before anyone had a chance to ask questions. She wasn't feeling embarrassed, she just didn't want to share him with everyone else. Despite his gruff appearance, Ray was a softie at heart and a complete gentleman. He'd spend the next hour conversing with her manager about the highlights of Vegas vacations without complaint.

“Good, then you won't mind.” Ray tugged Cecilia toward the shiny, chrome-riddled beast awaiting them. As chariots went, not bad at all.

“Won't mind what?” Before getting an answer out of Ray, she was swept into his arms and dumped onto the bike, cradled in front of him rather than on the back. The engine revved and they were off. If Ray meant she wouldn't complain about her hair being blown into a cotton candy puff ball, she wouldn't. She'd grown used to it long ago and secretly enjoyed the wind through her hair.

But instead of heading home, Ray veered away. From this position, Cecilia couldn't even ask where they were going.

It wasn't until they parked at a chipper little bar that Cecilia could make a fuss.

“Next time a little warning would be nice,” she complained half-heartedly. She really didn't mind, as long as she was spending time with Ray.

“I wanted to surprise you.” Ray grinned.

The bar was as raucous as ever, music blaring from the speakers and a spattering of patrons filling up the bar top. They waded their way through the throng of tables and ordered up a couple drinks before Ray spotted the pool tables.

“You still the best? Or have your skills dimmed after all these years?” Ray goaded Cecilia with ease, knowing just what buttons to press. But he wasn't the only one. Cecilia smiled slowly, trailing her fingers over his forearm as she leaned closer.

“Oh, I don't know. Still getting your ass handed to you by little girls like me?” She drew her nails back and sidled away, pausing only to toss a look over her shoulder. “Unless you're too scared to go another round.”

Ray was so easy to rile up. By the time Cecilia made it to the pool table two arms had worked their way around her waist and a warm mouth pressed against her throat. She leaned back against him, curling a hand in his hair and tangling her fingers in the long tresses. He really didn't seem to have changed at all, except to fill out a bit more. And by “a bit” she meant a helluva lot.

“Keep teasing me like that and I'll have to take advantage. Maybe a nice bet for later tonight?” He breathed, words like melted chocolate, sweet and tangy. “The loser has to do a strip tease to the winner's song choice?” His tongue slid over the back of Cecilia's neck and she shivered, fingers tightening in his hair.

“Why don't we up the ante? A strip tease and a promise for one whole night like in subservience. You win, you can tell me to do whatever you want. I remember you making quite a fuss about those handcuffs...wouldn't you like to see me wearing them?” Cecilia had her fingers in his hair and her ass pressing into his groin, teasing him along.

It didn't take all that much for him to agree.

It also didn't take all that much for Ray to lose. But he did spend an awful lot of time staring, jaw dropped and speechless, as Cecilia sank four balls in a row and finally took out the eight ball after only six turns.

“You...” He blinked. “But... I thought...”

“You thought wrong, sweetie.” Cecilia chuckled, fingers around his chin and pulling him down for a kiss. “I've been coming here to play at least once a week since I was old enough to drink. Well, a few years earlier than that since you so kindly bought me that fake ID.”

“You just hustled me.” Ray looked like she'd just announced she'd once been a man. “You—I didn't know you could do that. Damn, Cece, you're spiteful in your old age.”

She smacked his arm, sending him a glare.

“I'm not old, I'm twenty-eight, and don't act like a sore loser or I'll make you regret it.” A wicked grin graced her features. “I do have your subservience for an entire night, you know. Whenever I decide to take advantage.”

Ray made a sound of complaint and pulled Cecilia against him, kissing her hard. By the time he released her she was gasping, and he wore a pretty damn smug expression for a guy who just gotten his ass beat.

“It's not any different than most nights. You're a terror in the bedroom, you know that?” Ray laughed, kissing her again. “Want some more to drink? I know there's a peach mojito at the bar with your name on it.”

The way Cecilia lit up was answer enough and he smacked her ass on his way to the bar. Cheeky. He was lucky he was so damn gorgeous.

She went about gathering the balls for another game, organizing them in that triangle and making sure they were perfect on the green felt. She'd only looked up by chance, happy to check out Ray's ass whenever he was turned around, when she caught a scene she hadn't expected.

Some guy with his back turned was talking to Ray. Not uncommon in a bar of a small town where they grew up. No doubt someone would recognize that enormous idiot. But that wasn't what had surprised her. No, the huge logo on the back of the guy's jacket had been the shock. The skull and crossbones laced with fire, and underneath where the scrawl had been illegible on the kid's outfit were the words “Devil's Raiders”.

How did they find Ray this time?

Cecilia abandoned the pool table in favor of Ray, slipping between tables and groups of drunk men cheering about some nonsense or another.

“...told you not to get in my way.” The biker with his back turned spoke loudly, as if he was proud to shout across the bar. “When we said we're taking you out, we don't mean 'oh please go hide under the rocks in Texas', we mean we're going to wipe the Knight's Reapers right off the face of the Earth.”

“And I told you take all our deals if you feel like it, but touch even one of my boys and I'll rip your heart right out of your chest and stuff it down your throat.” Ray's voice was unexpectedly dark and tainted with anger. Cecilia jumped, completely taken aback by the sound. She didn't know he could even make sounds like that, much less a threat.

“Fuck you, Ray. Who the hell says we're scared of you? The Raiders have been around longer than you've been alive, boy. We don't back down from childish threats.”

“Interesting. If you're so confident that I'm scum why come all the way out here to start a fight? Seems a bit contradictory,” Ray mused.

“It's just a little extermination. Don't need all these nasty Knight roaches scuttling in the dark, getting in our way. And we want to send a message to all of Reno—it's our territory now.” The Raider must have made a face or done something because suddenly Ray was cracking his knuckles, fingers bunched into fists at his sides.

“I'd like to see you try.” Ray was close to punching the Raider in the face when he spotted Cecilia. His face went white and he dropped his arms at his sides. “Cece?”

The other man turned around, licking his lips in a disgusting manner and giving her the up and down creeper stare.

“So this is your little bitch, eh?” He drawled. Then he stumbled out of nowhere, nearly knocking into a couple at a nearby table. Ray retracted his fist and pulled Cecilia to his side.

“Don't call her that. Now get the fuck out of here before you lose your life.” Ray threatened, making sure to stand in the man's line of sight.

“Touchy, aren't you?” His gaze found Cecilia again. “How much do you know about your boyfriend here? All about the money and the warrants his boys have racked up?”

“Enough to know he's out of that game now.” Cecilia folded her arms over her chest and glared. She quickly shifted her limbs, however, when the movement drew the Raider's eyes to her noticeably perky chest.

“Really? Completely out? But wait, doesn't he have connections with the drug cartel?” He sneered.

“You mean the one he just ended two days ago?” She shot back, glaring.

“Leave now.” Ray was back on his 'man bad, Ray kill' Neanderthal kick again.

“And the gunrunning last month has nothing to do with you, right? No, it wouldn't bother a rich white bitch in Podunk, Texas.” The Raider raised his hand to block Ray's attack but stopped when Cecilia curled her fingers around his wrist, pulling him back.

“Guns? You never mentioned guns.” The tone in Cecilia's voice was sharp, touched with shock. Ray flinched and Cecilia's expression clouded. So there had been guns.

“He didn't tell you?” The brute smiled, an ugly expression with three teeth missing in front and cracked, bloodless lips as a paltry frame. “Naughty boy. You should tell your slut girlfriend all about the adventures of the Knights in California.”

“I thought you had business in Mexico.” Cecilia's hands shook, but she covered the motion by squeezing them together. Ray refused to look at her, eyes on the jackass across from them.

“We did.”

“Drugs ain't the only thing your boys dipped their fingers in.” The greasy Devil's Raider had a smug grin on his face and Cecilia wanted to slap it right off his stupid mug. “What about the cartels in San Diego? They sure paid a pretty penny for all those AKs.”

“Cartels? As in the bastards shooting up public buildings and making a mockery of the police department?” Cecilia snapped, hands clenched into fists. “Ray Owens, what the fuck have you been doing?”

Ray rounded on her, his face grim and almost unrecognizable. Gone were the laugh lines and the spark of mischief in his eyes. He didn't look at her with that tenderness he'd always reserved only for her. There was a guarded look on his face, a careful barrier keeping her far from his thoughts.

Who was he? What happened to her Ray?

“I told you we went straight, Cece.” He ran a hand through his mussed hair and shot a glare at the 'enemy', or whatever the hell he was. “Get the fuck out of here before I use your face as target practice. You delivered your damn message, now leave us be.”

“Whatever you say,
boss
.” The man winked and took off, presumably to rev up that annoyingly ear-shattering hog he’d ridden over, not that it could be heard over the loud music. Ray turned to her again, but he still had some level of reservation about him. Cecilia's hands had yet to stop shaking. Her lip had joined them, quivering against her teeth. She refused to look at him.

“Ce—”

“Don't.” Cecilia waved her hand sharply in his direction and turned away. “Leave me alone.” Silence followed. When she began to move, after forcibly blinking away tears, she didn't hear him follow behind.

“For how long?” came the question, almost inaudible. Cecilia swallowed the lump in her throat.

“I don't know. A while. I haven't decided yet.” With that she twisted on her heel and took off. Not at a run, but she was damn close to a sprint, dodging patrons until she reached the door. They weren't too far from her place, maybe a mile. And it was better to walk than stay here.