MC Bear My Baby (Beartooth Brotherhood MC) (7 page)

9
Tate


U
h
, let’s get going. You have somewhere to be tonight.”

That was all he had and he spoke despite the fact that his voice was hoarse and he didn’t think he could stand up straight. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could look at Molly with that mark on her neck. It promised to make him hard as granite all over again. They didn’t have time for round two right now, or it could easily turn into round three. What he needed to do was get dressed, get his head back in the game and make sure he had his shit together before they left this room. Clearing his throat, he pried his shaking fingers off her hips and tried to stand. This woman had him so out of control and off his game, he could barely handle it.

He swallowed thickly and shook his head. He needed to get over it in a hurry. Now wasn’t the time or the place. With a little fumbling, he managed to pull his pants back up. It only took him four fucking tries to get the button through the hole. Cracking his knuckles, he picked up Molly’s pants and laid it on the side of the bed.

“I’ve got to take another shower,” she said, sitting up.

“You good?” he asked without making eye contact.

“You’re all sorts of intense right now, Tate.”

“But I never disappoint,” he added.

She sighed longingly. When he glanced over at her she was frowning, brows drawn down low with concern, probably about how to make sense of admitting she was his.

“Um…I’ll wait downstairs.” This was his chance to get the fuck out.

10
Tate

C
hrist
, even his riding was taking a hit tonight. Tate sped by a tractor trailer using the lane for opposing traffic. He ended up swerving too hard into the right lane to avoid a collision and almost wiped out. Molly’s arms tightened around his waist, the reminder that he had precious cargo to worry about, not just himself. Normally he could make an illegal pass without thinking about it. It was second nature. But not today. The fact that Molly couldn’t speak over the howl of the wind flying by his bike, well it was a small favor.

They were almost there now, only a couple more minutes that he ticked off in his mind as she continued to grip onto him as if her life depended on it. Because it did.

He just hoped she wouldn’t raise what had happened earlier in the guest room. Ever. This wasn’t the first day he’d wanted to claim her. It had happened before, but this was the first time his beast had pressed up against his chest and squeezed all the air out of his lungs until he agreed.

My bear made me do it.

Yeah, I guess that can work if I’m ever cornered.

I was acting on pure instinct.

Because it was pretty much the truth. It happened because for a couple minutes, he’d blacked out from the wash of primal urges that had taken over his brain and all thought threatened to never relinquish control to his human side. Luckily, he’d gotten a fucking hold of himself, but that mark on Molly’s neck was proof that his animal put him in his place by marking her. Molly hadn’t seemed to mind. He was pretty sure they’d have it out about it later on, but deferral was probably for the best. Time could help keep this under wraps until he could think about what it all meant.

Molly would eventually want to know what was up with him, or someone would see the mark and enlighten her first. He couldn’t have that happen, and keeping her distracted with his cock wasn’t going to work forever. Maybe forty-eight hours, tops. Shaking his head, he slowed down and gripped the handlebars to get off the highway. This was their exit for Molly’s job. In no time they were parking in the back lot of the northeast Las Vegas warehouse where the underground fighting ring held its events.

He had a hard time getting his head on straight when Molly climbed off and headed toward the entrance. If only he had some time to think, plan
‘get the fuck away and fast’
wouldn’t be top of mind. Shoving his keys in his front pocket, he followed her inside. This was still a paid gig and the woman was still in potential danger. The woman his bear couldn’t get enough of.

Molly wasn’t getting kidnapped on his watch.

“Hey, you okay over there?” Molly asked as they waited to be let in the employee entrance.

She trailed her fingers down his leather cut near the middle of his back and he almost bolted out of her grasp. Shit, he really was spooked about all this. Molly wasn’t helping either. Before today, he couldn’t remember even one time she’d asked him if he was okay. It may have been a simple question, but from where he was standing, he just hoped this wasn’t going to take them down
‘share-your-feelings’
lane. She stood there, looking up at him for an answer to this mundane question.

Ugh, fuck!

Tate scrambled for something, anything. Nothing came but a grunt, then he blurted out, “I’m surprised they let chicks do this stuff, seems a little tough on their nails or something. Wait, what do people bet with up in there? Barbie dolls and My Little Ponies?” He coughed out a laugh, but the sound stuck in his throat. Not the best recovery plan, but fuck it. Changing the subject was a good start.

“You want to go there? I can show you a new perspective that’ll probably bruise your ego and put you out of commission.” She motioned to him and got into a boxing stance. “Bring it.”

“We’ve sparred before, Moll. I know what you’re bringing to the table. I don’t need a recap.”

She’d kicked his ass about half the time they sparred, and although he enjoyed the challenge, he wasn’t in the mood right now.

Molly continued to bounce on the balls of her feet. Her eyes narrowed. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Tate cocked his head with a grin. “You’ve got a job to do in there, don’t you?”

“Chicken shit,” she sang, daring him.

Nope, he wasn’t falling for that right now, even if his inner bear was ridiculously offended.

“Look, you got to get in there to patch up the brave bitches, and I can’t fight you because it’s my job to fucking protect your ass from a psychopath. Kicking your butt from here to Canada doesn’t really qualify me as a great bodyguard, okay? Besides…” Tate coughed into his fist and started walking around Molly as she pseudo-chased him. “It’s not easy sparring with a gorgeous woman when I have a boner the size of Texas.”

“Prove it,” she teased.

“Don’t tempt me or I’m liable to take you right up against this wall.”

It was a huge win that he didn’t look back to see her face, but he could imagine her expression. He looked down at the ground, yanked her by her elbow, and practically dragged her into the warehouse when the staff door person finally let them in. She didn’t put up much of a fight either, just a few grunts here and there. By the time she dropped off some gear in the women’s locker room and made it all the way inside, she was too busy straightening her clothes and pasting on a smile to look professional or some shit.

He took a deep breath and took a quick look around the place to see how vulnerable Molly would be in here. The fight club was seedy as fuck, with everyone standing around a big boxing ring, the air filled with sharp smoke, and something burning in frying oil. The idea that they might serve food in a dump like this screwed with his iron stomach. A slight headache pressed against his temples. Could it get any louder in this shithole? They were screaming as though this was a fight to the death. Any second he half expected a lion shifter to come charging out into the ring and maul one of these bitches.

Chaos. Yes, that was the only safe way to describe the club.

There were definitely some shifters in the crowd here. He smelled several bears, some panthers, and a few dragon shifters around, both male and female. On a normal day he would have eaten this up for breakfast and asked for seconds, but as a bodyguard, shit just got a fuck ton harder. He took in all the people, the various exit strategies, and Molly, whose eyes were glued to the fight already going down in the ring. It was a great place to hide in plain sight, which was no help at all.

“Where do I need to take you? Where do you normally do your nursing shit?” He half screamed into her ear, avoiding the fact that in order to do it, he got so close he could taste her. He pulled back, inhaling her sweetness on his cut, groaning for the millionth time in the past hour. “Let’s get you set up.”

“I’m already late, Tate. I got it.”

She shrugged him off without a backward glance, shoving herself into the throng of people around the ring. He knew this job wasn’t going to be a cake walk, but for all he knew, this Jett motherfucker could be in there waiting for her. Grunting in frustration, he followed her, keeping her in his line of sight as he pushed through the crowd.

A million ways to restore his manhood flashed through his mind while he kept her in his line of sight. She stopped at what he presumed was the makeshift nurse’s station—a spot on the bench filled with female fighters waiting for their turn in the ring. By then he was on high alert, and finally his head was back on the job. He caught up to her and jerked her backward by the elbow until she spun and they were chest to chest. She was a temptress tonight, pressing up against him from her hips to her shoulders, summoning his beast to spill heated energy over both of them.

“Don’t do that again, Moll.” His fingers involuntarily tightened along the soft flesh of her elbow, nostrils flared as she licked her lips and glared at him. “I can’t do my job if you play shit like that and rush on ahead of me. There are a ton of people in here and your stalker friend can make an appearance anytime, if he isn’t already in here. So, you get to stick to my hip until I tell you to do otherwise, got it?”

Molly rolled her eyes and tried to jerk out of his grip. “Are you going to let me do my job now?”

“Not until you agree.”

“For fuck’s sake, Tate,” she snapped. “I still have to work here. Now let me go. You can watch my back from six feet away…as in get the hell over there beside the bench and watch.”

She pulled back a second time and this time he let her go, wiping his hand on his pants. Molly turned and started to speak with a woman in workout gear next to the ring who was carrying a clipboard. Whatever the hell her problem was, he wouldn’t let her fuck up his ability to keep her safe. They weren’t dating. This was a paycheck, pure and simple. If she wanted to scream at him and make his job that much harder, well, she was paying for the pleasure, so he left it at that.

Doesn’t bother me a damn bit.

Nope, not for a fucking second.

He alternated doing a scan of the crowd and watching Molly work. A bell went off to end the current round of fighting, and Molly stepped up to the side of the ring with a bunch of supplies she placed at her feet. For the moment she was swabbing a gash on some chick’s cheekbone. Molly crouched down beside the little bench in the ring and spoke to the female boxer as she worked. From where Tate was standing, he couldn’t make out their conversation, but it was clear Molly knew what she was doing.

He crossed his arms over his chest, unable to take his eyes off her, and with no idea why he was frowning. Or why his heart felt like it was being squeezed in a wrench. Goddamn, was he catching feelings for the broad? He physically shook off the thought like a dog shaking off water, scanning the rowdy crowd around them again. There were some bodyguards, big hulking guys in black. So stereotypical. They were probably there to keep the drunks from rioting and tearing the place up. For now, all the men present seemed more interested in checking out the half-naked honeys duking it out in the ring together.

After a few fights, someone tapped Tate on the shoulder and his gaze flicked back. It wasn’t Molly, because she was in the ring fixing some fighter chick’s dislocated arm. Definitely that one was human, otherwise she could have just shifted and made that little problem go away. He pivoted backward, making sure to keep his fuck buddy in his sights. When what he’d really like to do is keep her under his lock and key—with his cock in her mouth.

“What’s up?” He asked, glancing down at a petite, red-headed ring bunny wearing next to nothing in a bare it all bikini. “You need something?”

She blinked up at him and her fake smile wavered a little bit.

“Don’t you remember me?”

He looked harder. He didn’t, so he shook his head. “Sorry I can’t say that I do.”

“We did that session at the Sobrevivir Club, remember?”

She raised her hands over her head and touched her wrists together. That’s when he remembered, vaguely. He went to the Club, an underground sex club, at least a few nights a month. Maybe he’d done a bit of bondage play with this redhead.

He scratched his head. “Oh, okay. Nice seeing you.”

“I have my break right now, and you looked like you might be bored. Want some company? Maybe we could meet up in the back?”

Her fingers hesitantly brushed the front of his cut, gliding down his chest and pulling at the top of his pants. Tate cleared his throat. This wasn’t a first, but it was the first time he didn’t feel the slightest interest in taking a random sexy stranger up on an offer like this. Under the usual circumstances, he’d be out the door, gripping her skinny ass while keeping her pinned against a grimy brick wall, shoving those bikini bottoms to the side and for a one and done. If he were in his right mind, he’d fuck her pretty little brains out, but circumstances were a little different tonight. Tonight, he wasn’t that interested.

Shit.

“Sorry, little lady. I appreciate the offer but I’m actually working. Rain check?”

“Sure. You come around here often?” Poor girl immediately brightened up at his rejection. “I mean, I don’t normally do this, but I had fun that night. We should hook up again.”

He mentally rolled his eyes and kept the lies tumbling off his tongue. His bear only wanted Molly. What the fuck was wrong with him? Eventually he said something that must have clicked, though fuck if he knew what it was. The ring bunny eventually went away with a smile on her face and a little wave. Jesus, he needed to keep his head on straight.

He looked over at Molly again, who was organizing her paramedic bag while she spoke with a five foot nothing shady sleazebag of a guy. The idiot motioned her toward the ring and shoved a pair of gloves into her arms. Uh, no. No way was she fighting tonight, or anytime soon.

He hurried to her side and gripped her around the waist to stop her. “What the hell’s going on, Moll?”

The short dude had the nerve to step in front of him. “Do we have a problem over here?”

Molly shook her head and stepped in between Tate and the guy. “No problem at all. Just give me a second.”

When she turned to face Tate and smiled up at him as if nothing was wrong, he knew she was trying to sell him on the idea of letting her fight.

“You’re not getting in that ring, Molly. Forget about it.”

“Sure I am.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Who’s gonna stop me?” She saw the look on his face and softened her stance. “I’m fine, Tate. I just need to blow off a little steam. You go back to keeping an eye out.”

“Give the guy those gloves back.” His fingers held on to her waist and she shook her head. “Do we need to have a chat? Or do I need to throw you over my shoulder and get you the hell out of here?”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said through her teeth. “The manager asked if I could sub out for a girl who isn’t coming. It’s a no-brainer. Do you know how much money is on the line? Plus, I can take her. You’ve seen all the girls who’ve gone up so far. It’ll be over in the first round.”

She pried herself away from him and headed toward the ring. Tate was back in front of her in three strides, putting both hands on her shoulders. She immediately took a step back and tried to get around him, but he wasn’t letting her move another inch.

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