Temperance: Biker Romance (The Davis Chapter Book 2) (8 page)

I don’t think Bandit and I were outside the bar ten seconds before our hands were all over each other. The bourbon had been just the thing that the two of us needed. It wasn’t the alcohol, though. It was the intimacy and the understanding that we were both in danger one way or the other. We had to stay and fight, or we’d run forever. In my heart, I knew that I would rather die with Bandit than live beside him on the run, never able to feel comfortable.

His lips felt amazing on my neck. I was backed up against the wall at the back of the building, one of his strong hands holding my wrists above my head. Bandit’s other hand wrestled with my jeans. As he fought to get between my legs, I cursed myself for not wearing a skirt or dress for just such an occasion. I wanted him to slip inside without anything getting in his way. The jeans were for the raid, but I could’ve brought them to change into beforehand.
 

It didn’t matter to Bandit. He opened them up with one hand, and then his hand slid down to my heat. I let out a gasp as his fingers slip between my wet folds. My knees went weak at the display of masculine power, but his strength held me up by my wrists without any problem at all. I closed my eyes and drank in the feeling of his fingers making their way down to my entrance. A soft moan escaped my lips. Once again, nowhere near a bed, I thought. Bandit could contain himself long enough to get somewhere private. I was just as guilty…

My hands struggled against Bandit. I knew he loved feeling me trying to get away from him. It would make him feel even more like the big, beefy man that he was when I couldn’t escape his grasp. My heart pounded, and when his lips bit my shoulder, I threw my head to one side. I saw the backdoor to the club right there, and I knew we could be caught at any moment. It turned me on way too much.

“Your fingers are great, but they just aren’t going to do the job…” The words tripped up in my mouth as Bandit sunk his teeth into my flesh. It was just what I needed to clear my mind.

At hearing my plea, Bandit came alive. The beast inside of him was let free of its cage. He released my wrists, but only long enough to slide my jeans down my body. Bandit spun me around so that I faced the wall. My fingertips tingle that the anticipation of what was coming.

 
For a few seconds, I heard Bandit struggling with his own jeans. I knew he would be met with passion and dying for that carnal relief.
 

“God, you get me going.” Bandit’s voice was deep, like he really had changed into a beast. He stepped behind me and I bent forward to give him the access he needed. My body tightened when he slipped inside. I was wet and so ready for him, but somehow I was still surprised and overcome. Everything had come back to us so quickly. To feel Kyle’s body so close against mine after so long was perfect.

He didn’t waste any time ramping up to speed. I pushed back, matching his rhythm. As his body slammed into mine, I turned my head back, meeting Bandit’s eyes. There was so much emotion in them. Much more than I remembered. The two of us had a lifetime of catching up to do, and I wondered what life had thrown at him. I would worry about it later, though.

And its fingers dug in to my hips. He pulled me back, filling me as deep as he could. Each thrust pushing me closer and closer to the edge of that beautiful cliff. It wasn’t like that morning on the hood of his car. Time was pressing, and our bodies seems to know. I could hear his grunts growing more and more strained. Sometimes a good, sensuous, long session of lovemaking was amazing. Other times, there was something so hot about the urgency of a quick and dangerous fuck.

Just as my body gave in, Bandit covered my mouth. He leaned forward, filling me deeply one last time before getting into his own orgasm. I could feel his body tense and press against mine from behind. I did my best to keep quiet, and his mouth silenced the moans that I couldn’t hold back. Feeling Bandit breathing behind me was comforting. I felt protected and safe, even in the midst of so much danger.

Bandit’s voice was an intimate whisper. “You ready for tonight?”

“As ready as I’m gonna be. Just promise me that you
will not
leave my side. The guards will recognize me instantly. You know I wouldn’t be going back there if I had a choice.” Bandit had given me strength, but no amount of strength is enough to overlook mortal danger. Going back to the Blythe mansion could be my end, but not going back was surely my death sentence.

His touch returned to that of a gentle lover’s. He turned me around and helped slide my jeans back up my legs. His fingers seemed to sizzle against the soft skin of my thighs. It was a feeling I etched deep into my memory. It was a touch I didn’t want to ever live without again.

Once the two of us were decent, he took my face in his hands, “I’ll be with you every step of the way. I’m the best driver in California, true, but I’m also one hell of a shot. Everything ends with Conrad tonight. Everything with us begins tomorrow morning. We can stay here or we can go, it’s up to us.”

I threw my arms around Kyle, feeling his weight and hard body against mine. I wanted to stay there forever. I wanted to live in that moment, but it couldn’t be. We had a war to fight. After the perfect amount of time holding me, Bandit pulled open the back door to the Watering Hole, and we rejoined the rest of the bikers.

 
I sat on a bar stool at the back of the crowd. Bandit addressed the men, sounding like the most powerful leader I ever heard. “Wish I could tell you that we have a plan, boys. Circumstances beyond our control, blah, blah, blah. I’ve been on the phone with Romero, and he’s on his way back, but it won’t be soon enough. He gave me a quick rundown on what we can expect. I ain’t gonna lie; we can expect a hard fight. The original plan was to go in quiet. I don’t think that’s gonna work anymore.”

One of the bikers I wasn’t introduced to spoke up, “Can we do this without Romero?”

I looked back to Bandit, but Alcatraz spoke first, “Is Romero your goddamn mommy? Of fucking course we can do this without him. Yeah, that guy might as well be a fucking ninja, but I’m no slouch. Are you, Deacon?”

“What the fuck does slouch mean?” At first I thought he was joking, but the dead serious look on Deacon’s face proved me wrong. I studied him for a few seconds. The man could have been a linebacker. I guess he was all brawn and no brains.
 

Alcatraz shook his head. “It means lazy. Are you fucking lazy?”

Deacon’s eyes opened wide. It almost looked like Deacon was gonna stand up and challenge Alcatraz. “Fuck no I ain’t lazy. I’m willing to do what we gotta do. Ain’t we talked out? Let’s get doin’!” Deacon may not have been much upstairs, but he was enthusiastic, and I was willing to bet he was absolutely brutal when it came to a fight. I was glad he was on my side and not the other way around.

Bandit put his hands up. “All right, all right, all right. Like I said, were going in hot, so expect some heavy resistance. The guards have a guest house that acts as their headquarters. We’re gonna concentrate fire on that. The majority of you are going to take out the guest house, and four of us’ll take the house.” Bandit reached behind him for boxes that were on the table. “Through the generous donation of Tireless Securities…”

Alcatraz raised a hand when Bandit lifted the boxes. I made the assumption that Tireless Securities was owned by Al.

Bandit went on, “The Rising Sons Motorcycle Club now have two-way radios. These ain’t your childhood walkie-talkies, neither. We’ve got us some wireless earpieces. This is gonna be some Seal Team Six shit.”

The dozen or more bikers cheered as Bandit handed the small boxes around. He took a seat and Trask stood to address his club. “Bandit was there with me in Vegas. You were, too, Stache. I know you two can handle yourselves. The rest of you? I’m trusting the rest of you. Thunder’s proven himself to me, and Al? Fuck, I can’t say one bad word about you. Tonight, I want us all coming home, you understand me?” After the bikers nodded and murmured in agreement, Trask raised his hands, indicating for the bikers to stand.
 

I watched it from the back of the bar as Trask lowered his head. Where they actually going to pray? I couldn't believe it. These guys were the toughest of the tough; outlaws and boozing fuck machines. It was just hard to wrap my head around them believing in the almighty.

Trask spoke with somber reverie, “Dear lord, please don't let it get fucked.”

With their heads bowed, the bikers all repeated in unison. As I watched the bizarre sight before me, I tried to comprehend my life and how it is turned into this. From normal girl to trophy wife to biker babe? It wasn’t exactly what I saw for myself when I was growing up.

After a brief moment of silence, all the bikers broke off. Some of them loaded weapon stacked on a table to one side. A few of them headed toward me.

Alcatraz stood in front of three other bikers before me. “What do we need to know about this guest house? What kind of weapons are we talking, how many guards? The works?”

I did my best to sound in control, but my best only went so far. “It's an old carriage house. There's two garages with an apartment above. There's usually about eight guards on duty at any given time.”

“So we should expect twenty-four.”

I did the math quickly in my head. That sounded right if there were three shifts of eight guys around the clock. “Yeah, probably twenty-four.”

After a nod, Alcatraz asked, “What kind of fire power are we talking?” Alcatraz was straight to the point. It felt refreshing to be around men that treated me like a human. I didn’t care about being treated like a lady. Ladies liked the doors opened for them when they got out of the car. I much preferred getting laid on the hood of a car any day. I shook the naughty thoughts from my head and got down to business.

“They open carry handguns when they patrol. I've never been inside the carriage house, but when they fired on us last night, it definitely sounded like something automatic.” I wanted to flag Kyle over. He had grown up around guns, and he probably could’ve identified the make and model by just hearing them fire.

Alcatraz took my words in. I tried to think back over the last year for any details that would help the Rising Sons. I liked these men, and I already owed them my life. The very last thing I wanted was to see any of them get hurt.

One of the others—Lucky, I think—, asked, “How long from the gate to the guest house? Trask is damn handy with a rifle. If he can clear us a path...

I gave him a disappointed shake of the head. “It's not too far from the gate to the house, but the driveway winds quite a bit. I don't think there's exactly a straight shot.”

I felt like all I did was deliver bad news. Before I came to Kyle, life was probably quiet for the Rising Sons, but now I had them going to war with a supposed drug lord. The bad news didn't seem too upset Alcatraz. “I think we can accommodate. Stache’ll be drivin’ Thunder’s truck. Should work out just fine.”

The plan flew over my head, but I was fine with that. The less I knew, the better. My nerves were already close to fried. I just wanted the night to be over. I knew what that meant, which didn’t help anything. After a few other questions, Trask asked if the Rising Sons were ready. Everyone in the bar raised a fist into the air. Everyone but me…