Gone (Sons of Judah MC Book 1) (3 page)

Chapter Three

The date was going to be a disaster. She didn’t know why she agreed to it in the first place. The man was convincing, and she found it hard to say no, but as she walked towards the bar, Stacy was pretty sure it wouldn’t take her that long to walk out. The man was as handsome as the devil, but he wasn’t her type. They had nothing in common.

He was already seated. When she walked in, he stood and strolled over. Taking her hand in his, he deposited a kiss on it. “Right on time. And you look beautiful.”

Her cheeks flushed with color. “Thanks.”

Although they had already slept together, she was nervous. Did he really just want to spent time with her, or was he thinking that she gave in to him so easily before so she might do it again? Stacy was determined not to sleep with him, but—of course—the way he looked stirred memories inside her. She recalled the way he’d kissed her throat, and the ease with which he slipped inside her pussy. The thought of that made her moist down there, and she felt the juices of her arousal stick to the panties. When he led her to the table, she took a seat and crossed her legs.

Not again.

Oh, please, not again.

“What would you like to drink?”

“A mojito would be fine.” Now that she took her gaze off of him, Stacy looked around at the bar. She’d never come here before. It wasn’t exactly shabby, but there was something dangerous about it. If it wasn’t for him, she wouldn’t have come here ever. Still, it wasn’t bad. “How is the food here?”

“Their steaks are to die for,” he said. “And the fish is good. But we will order after some time. Let’s just enjoy a drink first.”

Did he realize that she wanted to end this date as soon as possible? Stacy glanced at him. What were they going to talk about? She had nothing in common with him. “Did you finish your work with Ned?”

“I did.”

“He owned you money?”

He tapped his fingers on the table. “Not to me personally but to the club. Your ex-husband has expensive taste.”

“He sure does,” she said.

“Did you divorce because of fights about money? I don’t think he is short of cash.”

It was a personal question. Stacy wasn’t sure if she wanted to reply. “No, I…it was something else.”

“Ah! Another woman. The man would have to be crazy to leave you for someone else.”

“Thanks, but…” The waiter came with their drinks and she accepted hers. “I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Do you believe in destiny?”

She blinked her eyes, confused by the sudden change in topic. “I do, of course. Don’t you?”

“I am more pragmatic. People make choices. Sometimes they turn out ok, and sometimes they screw up. It’s easier to blame God or to put the onus on Him rather than accept responsibility for our actions.”

The mojito was good, and she was pleasantly surprised. So maybe this place wasn’t as bad as she thought. Perhaps she was the uptight one. He seemed at ease as he drank his beer. “Do you come here often?”

“Once a week. The bar is owned by a member of the club and quite a few people hang out here.”

“What is that Son of Judah actually does?”

“We’ve legitimate businesses. Casinos. Bars. Of course, it started with a love for riding bikes. We sure love that,” he said.

Legitimate business? She wasn’t sure. Ned never talked much about different clubs that he represented. “Do you like this work that you do?”

He laughed. “I’ve a feeling you’re thinking I bash up people or perhaps end up in jail every once too often.”

“You didn’t do that?”

“I’ve never been to jail,” he said. “I am legitimately employed by the club as one of the chiefs. We enforce rules, and if someone doesn’t like to do that, our presence is enough. I can’t recall the last time I was required to use my fists. It just doesn’t happen.”

“So you simply intimidate people into giving what you want?”

“I guess I do.”

She wasn’t intimidated by him. Lust, yes. Fear, no. Stacy cocked her head, as she sipped her drink. If she had her way with him, she would strip him naked and kiss every inch of his body. She would run her hands through his hair and then slide them down his face to the wide shoulders she remembered so well, and then skip over his taut stomach down to the hot, throbbing cock that felt perfect inside her. Her cheeks flushed, as she realized that she was actually visualizing making love to him.

What kind of a sexual chemistry was this?

It was probably some strange, new disease. When her drink was finished, he picked it up. “Did you drive here?”

“No, got a cab.”

“In that case, you can have more. Same as this one.”

Her head was already buzzing. Stacy wasn’t used to drinking a lot. Even with Ned, she kept her quota fixed to one drink, but right now she felt impulsive, excited. “Sure, why not?”

“Why not, indeed.”

He walked over to get her drink. When he came back, she was quietly contemplating the décor. “Do you think someone actually shot that hog?” she asked when he came back. She pointed at the head of the hog that was installed above the bar.

“That was James’s first kill. James is the owner of this club.”

“So he actually killed that animal?”

“Of course.”

She wrinkled her nose and accepted the drink from his hand. “Have you ever shot someone?”

“A human, no. An animal yes, once. I went hunting with James two years ago but that was the only time I did something like that.”

“Are you good at shooting, hunting?”

“Good enough, but I don’t think it’s fair to hunt animals because they don’t carry a gun and are quite helpless.”

She was quite amazed at his words. So perhaps he wasn’t as hard-hearted as she thought. From the look of him, it was obvious that he didn’t mind using his hands when the chance arose, but it was also clear that he possessed a kind heart. “You are the sweetest enforcer that I ever saw.”

“Hey don’t spread that word about. I would probably lose my job.”

She winked at him. “Your secret is safe with me.”

What the hell was she doing? Not only was she flirting with him, but she was also drinking too much. But somehow she felt restless today. Maybe a tad bit exhilarated. It wasn’t often that she spent time with a guy who was hired by others to put the fear of God in people. Looking at him, no one would believe that he did those kinds of things.

“Did you ever do another job?”

“Sure, love. I’ve been a waiter, a manager of a bar, a bouncer at a club, and various other interesting avatars.” He laughed. “But for the last four years I’ve been with the Sons of Judah. I like the work, the pay, and the company.”

“And your family?”

“I have four brothers and one sister. They are all scattered throughout the country, but come hell or high water, during Christmas we gather together at my parents’ ranch in Minnesota, and we catch up with each other.”

“That’s a big family.” She leaned back. “I was an only child, and it’s just hard for me to imagine what it must be like when everyone gathers together. I bet it is chaotic.”

“Oh, my mother loves it. She starts cooking a week before our arrival, and as people come in, they start chipping in. Christmas dinner is lavish. My mom is originally from Italy. My father met her when she was visiting America, and they hit it off. She will make every traditional Italian treat, as well as American ones.”

“And do you help her with the cooking?”

“Oh, I can make quite a few things, and my blueberry pie is delicious.”

She couldn’t imagine him in the kitchen. He was so macho. Perhaps that was a bit prejudiced for her, or perhaps it was because Ned always told her that real men didn’t cook. She wished she’d told him that real men also don’t cheat. “Perhaps one day I can try your famous pie,” she said.

“Sure, anytime. What about you? What do you like to do when you’re not working?”

“I like to watch TV.”

“Reality TV?”

“What else is there?” She was a little amused to notice that he seemed to be judging her choice of TV shows. “TV is the ultimate way to have cheap entertainment, but I also like to watch movies.”

“And who is your favorite actor?” He groaned. “Don’t tell me it’s Tom Cruise.”

“It’s actually Will Smith,” she said.

“Ok. Good choice. Me, I don’t spend much time watching TV. Sometimes I catch a movie with a friend or on a date, but generally I like to read.”

She gaped at him as if he said something silly.
Reading? Him?
She could imagine him cracking a skull or two, but not reading.
Wow!
Maybe she was making a serious mistake by trying to push him into a hole in which he didn’t fit. A biker club chief could be an intellectual. “What do you like to read?”

“Autobiographies. Science and History. Spirituality.”

She cocked an eyebrow, sure that he was pulling her leg. “You read books on spirituality?”

“I am completely in touch with my inner self,” he assured her. “My third eye is active, energetic, and open to accepting all sorts of life lessons.”

For a moment she sat still, and then she broke into laughter. “Oh! This is crazy. You’re joking with me, aren’t you?”

“Of course not. You can come home and check out my books. I don’t read e-books. What crap that is? I need a book in my hand, and I like the smell of it, the texture of it. No tablet can provide that no matter how efficient it is.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She definitely didn’t want to end up at his apartment. Did she? No, she didn’t. The two drinks she downed mellowed her. Now, as she gazed at him, Stacy couldn’t imagine why she’d wanted to keep her distance from him. His blueberry pie might really be delicious, but he was the best dessert she ever tasted. As she recalled the way his hands moved her and the sweet manner in which his tongue tasted her, she wanted that experience all over again. Life was short, and she didn’t want to waste her time on regrets.

Making love to him would be a treat.

“It would be a disaster,” she said out loud.

“What?”

Stacy flushed when she realized that she spoke out aloud. “Nothing. I was just thinking about something. I can’t cook to save my life,” she blabbed in an effort to make up for her mistake. “The only thing I can cook is an omelet, and if you push me, maybe pasta. Although the last time I made some, it burned.” She pouted. “It wasn’t my fault really. I put it on the stove and went to watch the show that was coming on…and of course, I forgot about it.”

“Of course.”

“It’s difficult to multitask,” she said. Her gaze settled on his hands, as he picked up the bottle of beer he was nursing still. She could imagine those long fingers sliding along her skin and then perhaps skipping over her breasts. “Ned thought I was a complete loser in the kitchen.”

Stacy couldn’t believe she said that out loud. Maybe that second mojito wasn’t a good idea. Or perhaps it was her third. Did he replace her glass in the middle of their conversation? Good God! She was a little tipsy. This was so not good. How was she supposed to keep her composure and cool when the alcohol made her head swim? Maybe he got her drunk on purpose. Now he would make love to her and she wouldn’t be able to stop him.