Warrant (Righteous Outlaws #1) Page 2

  I threw a few bucks onto the bar, and downed the rest of my beer. I turned toward the door and my damn eyes immediately landed on Sunshine, having what looked like a heated conversation with some guy. As I got closer, there was a sudden break in the music, and I could hear them.

  “Leave me alone,” she slurred, but the guy didn’t back down. If anything, it only fueled him to move closer.

  “Not until you answer me, dammit.”

  “I already did. Now, please get out of my way.”

  “That wasn’t an answer.”

  Too fucking tired to care, I ignored whatever stupid argument they were having and headed straight to the door. The bitch wasn’t my problem, and it was best to keep it that way. My hand landed on the door, ready to push out into the night, when instinct took over.

  “Leave. Me. Alone!” She shoved at his chest, and he pushed forward, grabbing her upper shoulder hard.

  She let out an unsettling squeal, and, as one who always acts and then thinks, I raced forward, cracking the guy good with one punch to the face.

  Aubree

  William went down like a sack of potatoes, as the biker from the bar flexed his fingers and then straightened his leather vest. My legs gave out, and I collapsed beside William, shaking him and silently praying he was okay.

  I might not have wanted to marry him, but that didn’t mean I wanted to see him get knocked unconscious either.

  “Oh my God!” Amaya screamed, as she and Vicky came out of the bathroom and noticed us down on the floor.

  I ignored them, and tapped William’s face. “William!” I exclaimed, shaking his shoulder. When he didn’t respond, I turned my attention to the biker. “Why did you do that?”

  He shrugged. “You seemed like you needed help. You could say thank you.”

  “Thank you? You just punched my friend in the face! Why the hell would I thank you?”

  I caught his eyes and, this time, I wasn’t blinded by the alcohol. The fog in my head had cleared, and I could see him clearly. His eyes were a beautiful shade of green that reminded of the evergreens in Aspen. How they stood out so vibrantly against the rest of the gorgeous background. His dirty blonde hair was long, and so unlike the clean cut boys I grew up with.

  The tattoos on his neck should have scared me, but they only intrigued me. Made me want to know what each one meant, and if it hurt when he got them. I always secretly wanted a tattoo, but Father would kill me. Twenty-two years old, and I still cared about what my father would say and think. But this guy… he looked like the only person he cared about was himself, and not in the conceited way like William, but in a way that brought chills to my spine.

  William stirred beneath me, so I brought my gaze away from the leather clad man and down to my ex-boyfriend. “William, are you okay?” I asked, cradling his face.

  He blinked a few times, and, then when he was fully aware of where he was, he pushed up. “Where is he?” he asked, with fear streaking across his newly tanned skin from a recent trip to St. Barts.

  I turned to the biker, but he was gone. For some reason, I didn’t want him to be. So, despite the voice in my head telling me to stay safely inside with William, I pushed into the night. I was sick of being a good girl. Sick of doing everything everyone expected me to do. If I wanted to chat up a biker in a bar, then dammit that was exactly what I was going to do and neither Amaya, Vicky, William nor even my father was going to stop me.

  I came home after college graduation to figure my life out. And I wasn’t going to do that by falling into the same routine I’d been following since I was a kid. I was sick of lunch at the club, and weekly charity events about causes I didn’t even care about. I hated it. I spent my time trying to pacify William and my parents by letting them think that William and I had a future. All I had to do was say yes to his proposal, but then what? My college education became a waste of my time as I got molded into a society woman that William carried around on his arm like some damn trophy. No. I wasn’t going to do it. I wasn’t going to become my mother. I couldn’t live a life that was carved out for me by everyone but me. I wasn’t sure what I wanted, but I damn well knew what I didn’t want.

  So, maybe I had lost my mind as I ran out into the parking lot, searching for that beautiful man covered in tattoos and leather, who looked like my parents’ definition of the devil. But, maybe he could show me a different life. Show me what else is out there, and what I’ve been missing all these years even if for only a little while.

  I thought college was my ticket to change, but I should have known going to the college that was my parents’ first choice for me would only mean an extension of my mundane life. The people who walked the campus were no different than me, and it was easy to fall into the same old familiar routine.

  It’s the reason why I wanted to come to this bar tonight. It was a total dive bar, and something my friends and I would normally never be caught dead in. The floors were sticky, and the place itself smelled like stale beer, and reeked of cigarette smoke from years of built up nicotine embedded in the walls, but it was something different. Something to break up the monotony.

  “Aubree?” I heard William’s voice echo through the night, but I didn’t turn toward it. In high school, I was always at his beck and call and I was tired of it. He could wait a damn minute, or he could come find me.

  I rounded the side of the building and pressed my back against the wall, appreciating the fresh air and the darkness that surrounded me.

  “Looking for someone, Sunshine?”

  Startled, I gasped, but quickly recovered, pushing off the wall and turning my head toward the deep voice. He straddled his motorcycle, his hair pushed back beneath a black helmet that only covered his head. A cigarette dangled from his lips, a swirl of smoke ascending from the tip before disappearing into the night sky.

  I fidgeted with my hands and then stopped when my mother’s voice popped into my head, reminding that it looked childish. I took a deep breath, and let the alcohol do the talking. “I found him.”

  He laughed and it was loud and hearty, but sexy as hell. “You were looking for me?”

  I slid my teeth over my lip, stepping out from the darkness of the building and into the faint light, shining down from the street lamp. “I was.”

  “And, what did you plan on doing when you found me?” he asked, and took a long pull of his cigarette.

  Watching his lips draw together around the base of the cigarette was strangely erotic. Desire shot to my core, and my nipples tingled with dirty thoughts that I shouldn’t be having, but couldn’t seem to stop.

  This man was the total opposite of the life I was accustomed to. The life that was so boring it was slowly killing me. I didn’t want to be a Stepford Wife like my mother and her friends. I took another deep breath, and found the courage to step even closer still.

  “I wanted to thank you,” I said, but embarrassment kept me from looking him in the eye.

  “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty sure you were just yelling at me inside.”

  I shrugged. “I did, but I thought about it. I overreacted a little.”

  “A little?”

  “No guy has ever hit another guy for me. It was actually kind of sweet.” I found the courage to look up, but, instead of a smile, I was met with a look of disapproval.

  “I don’t do sweet,” he stated dryly, obviously not happy with my choice of words. I guessed no one had ever described him as such, but I sensed a bit of sweetness beneath that tough façade. I wasn’t stupid. I knew this guy was definitely trouble, but at the same time I didn’t think he would hurt me. He was new and exciting and God knew I could use some excitement in this boring life I was leading. Not to mention, he was hot as hell and was doing something to my insides that I had no explanation for.

  “Good because I’m sick of sweet,” I replied.

  “Aubree!” William’s voice was closer, and I could sense him behind me. “What are you doing?”

  “You better go, Sun
shine,” the biker said, revving his engine.

  I heard William’s shoes stomping on the pavement, and I turned to him. He was just around the bend of the building and coming our way.

  Without a second thought, I kicked my leg over the bike, and wrapped my arms around the bad boys hard stomach. “Drive,” I commanded.

  He didn’t. He let his hand off the handlebars, and unfastened his helmet, turning and putting it on my head. His finger lingered on my chin, causing goosebumps to prickle my skin. He gave the slightest of smiles, and it made my panties wet. “A head as pretty as yours should be protected,” he said and then, without another word, turned back around and took off.

  With the hard metal of the bike between my legs, and my arms securely wrapped around this gorgeous man, my chest pressed tightly to his back, excitement ran through me, dipping low in my stomach. It was the same feeling I got on a roller coaster, just as it flew down the tracks. It was exhilarating and dangerous and I loved every second of it.

  I had no idea where we were going, and nor did I care. My friends and William probably thought I had lost my mind, but it was the total opposite actually. For the first time in so long, I was finally seeing things clearly. This thrill was what was missing from my life and, my God, it felt amazing. It made me feel alive again, and was quelling that craving inside that had been screaming to get out. Even if it was just for a single night, I would relish this moment, this feeling of freedom and uncertainty, forever.

  I leaned my head back, and let the wind whip my hair around me, savoring the open air that skimmed across my bare skin. We rode for what felt like eternity, yet not long enough before he pulled the bike down a dark path into a clearing. In the distance, the city lights of Seattle reflected off the calm waters, and it was breathtaking. I glanced around, but couldn’t figure out where we were.

  I took the helmet off, and kicked my leg over the bike. “This place is beautiful,” I said, taking in the tranquil sound of the water lapping against the shore, and the gorgeous city skyline across the way. “Do you come here a lot?” I asked, and, as soon as the words came out, dread paralyzed me in place.

  What if he brought me here to kill me? I bet I could scream, and nobody would hear me. I just stepped into a trap. I shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, and tried to remember what I learned in that one self-defense class I took my freshman year.

  “I come here to think sometimes,” he said with a particular coolness to his voice that managed to soothe my worries.

  Besides, he wouldn’t kill me in the place where he went to think. Or would he… “You’re not going to kill me, right?” I blurted out before I could stop the words from firing off my tongue.

  He laughed, rubbing the five o’clock shadow on his chin. I wondered what the stubble would feel like beneath my fingers. William never went without a clean shave, and, since he was the only guy I had ever been with, I had no idea what it was like to feel the rough stubble of a man against my skin.

  “I’m not going to kill you. Though, I could if I wanted to.” He winked and I assumed it was his way of making a joke even if I didn’t think death was a laughing matter.

  He might not kill me, but being feet away from him with a gun so casually placed on his person it was the most danger I had ever been in.

  “But, you wouldn’t,” I said for the reassurance.

  He shook his head, and then pushed his long dirty blonde hair out of his face. “No.”

  “Good to know.”

  “So, that guy back there,” he said, but didn’t finish.

  “William?”

  He nodded.

  “An ex boyfriend that won’t let it go, but let’s not talk about that. Let’s talk about you.”

  “I don’t talk about me,” he said with more gruff in his voice.

  He finally got off the bike, and walked over to me. No longer sitting on a bar stool or his bike, he was much taller than I realized. He towered over me, as his muscles pulled tight against the black t-shirt he had beneath his vest. Tattoos completely covered both of his arms, and I couldn’t help myself. I reached out wrapping my fingers around his wrist, and held it up for me to admire. Biker boy inhaled a quick gasp at my touch. There was a current that sparked between us as I studied his artwork.

  I ignored the sparks that were flying between us as I continued to admire his tattoos. It was a collage of skulls, stars and tribal bands with flames, weaving in and out until turning into swirls of smoke. The intricate details and the well-crafted design made it equal parts terrifying and beautiful.

  “Do you have any more?” I asked, tracing my finger along the lines of a star, and dragging my hand across his chest to his other arm. His other arm was just as stunning, and I followed a wisp of smoke up his arm to his shoulder, pushing the sleeve of his shirt out of my way. I glanced up at his face and his eyes were filled with something I had never experienced before —desire. This man was hungry and that hunger was for me. It thrilled and frightened me because every part of my being was begging for him to do something, anything to alleviate my own growing desires.

  I looked away and continued to run my finger across the black ink of a motorcycle, a bald eagle wrapping it in a banner that read, “You saw me take my first breath, and I saw you take your last.” Beneath it were two dates, and the last one from only a couple years ago.

  “Who is this for?”

  His eyes snapped to the skyline in the distance, and he looked as if his mind went somewhere else for a moment. The desire from moments ago, turned to pain that etched into the hard lines of his face, and filled his eyes with sadness and emotion that just did not seem to fit this hardened tough guy. This wasn’t just a tattoo. This was a memorial to someone he loved dearly.

  “My old man,” he finally said.

  “How’d he die?”

  He grabbed my wrist and forcefully removed it from his arm. “I told you. I don’t talk about me.”

  “Can you at least tell me your name?” He looked at me, but didn’t say anything, so I gave him a cute smile. “Please.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair, displaying the letters to the words ride and die written across his knuckles. “Cash.”

  “Cash. I like that name. It’s different. And I’m sorry about your dad.”

  He nodded, and continued to look out across the water.

  “I bet you were close with him. I’m close with my dad. He’s like my best friend.”

  “Of course he is,” Cash mumbled.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, straightening up.

  “You just seem like the type. That’s all.”

  “And, what type is that?”

  “A goody. So pure you might as well have a damn halo over your head and wings springing out your back.”

  He was right. He had me figured out from a few shared words and, yet, other than his name, I knew nothing about him. He was a complete and total mystery to me, but I would bet that, beneath the tattoos and leather, there were a million stories. A gentle soul who cared far more than he would like to admit. I could tell by the way he punched William for me, and, how hidden away from the road in this secluded place, he hadn’t once tried to touch me.

  I don’t think I would resist if he did. From the minute I stood next to him at the bar, I wondered what it would feel like to be his. By the patches on his vest, I could tell he was in a Motorcycle Club and, though I didn’t know much about them, I knew their women were their property. It sounded barbaric, but it was also intriguing and, to be honest, it wasn’t much different from what William expected of me.

  I looked up to Cash. I didn’t want him to think he had me figured out so easily. “I’m not a goody,” I stated.

  Cash leaned down, his lips a mere inches from my ear. “I bet your daddy paid for you to go away to some Ivy League school. You probably called home every night after studying to check in and assure them that you were being a good little girl.” He walked around me, his warm breath brushing against my skin a
s he pushed my hair to one side. “I bet the only sex you have ever had is lying on your back while some guy slowly slides his cock in and out of you, so he doesn’t blow his load too quickly.”

  I sucked in a ragged breath at his words, surprised at how they shot through me like an electric current leaving me with an undeniable yearning to be touched and ravished by this complete stranger.

  He moved around me ever so slowly, dragging his finger along my bare skin as he went. Chills coursed up and down my body, leaving a fiery hot path of desire as he continued his assault on my senses. “I bet you’ve never had an orgasm. Never sat on a guy’s face while he buried his tongue deep inside your tight little pussy, flicking your clit, and tasting your juices as your body screamed for release.”

  Little did he know my body was already screaming for release, and he had barely laid a hand on me. I shook at his suggestive words as wetness pooled in my panties, practically begging him to stop talking and just show me what I’d been missing. I inhaled deeply as if that would satiate the overwhelming craving this crude, disgustingly hot guy was imbedding in my core. He was stirring up feelings that I never knew existed. I wanted it all. Everything he was telling me. I wanted to experience it and feel it, and I wanted it with him. Screw the rules I was raised to live by. Rules were meant to be broken and what better way to do that than with this tattooed bad boy.

  He continued to circle around me, stopping in front of me. He reached out his hand and gripped my chin between his fingers, urging me to look at him. My heartbeat picked up speed and pounded against my chest. My breaths turned to shallow pants as I let him control me. My body was weak with desperation, and I grabbed onto his hand to keep from dissolving into a puddle.

  “Am I right?” he asked, his tongue dabbing his bottom lip suggestively.

  “Maybe,” I breathed.