I drink it down, just as Mal comes back and fixes me another one. “Um, I don’t think I should.”
“You definitely should. Now, let’s go start the music!”
I sigh but follow her. I’ve got a very bad feeling about tonight …
The Breast Christmas Gift Ever
HORSE
I’m driving through the sleepy town of Valley, Indiana. The town had a registered population of one thousand people, but most everyone knows the number is closer to eight hundred—maybe lower. It’s the kind of town where everyone knows one another. There are very few secrets from the local gossip hounds—some would say none. Our town has one stoplight downtown, a county swimming pool, and a rallying total of four restaurants—a Dairy Queen, Arby’s, Subway, and a locally owned Mexican eatery. Oh, and we have a small bank. That’s about it. I mean, sure there are a couple of clinics, schools, and a funeral home. Still, there are really no big draws to settle here. I don’t mind it. Even though a third—or more—of the population looks at me and my club like we are little more than thugs. It doesn’t bother me in the least. If anything, I find it funny. My club has done more to keep this little town functioning than anyone. I doubt most know that, and I don’t care enough to make it known. We’re a good club. We’re not the hardcore MCs that are popularized on television, movies, and bad documentaries. Our money, books, and everything are as clean as they come. We own a large construction company, and work is always coming in. There is one major similarity betweenus and those MCs, however. Each one of us would lay our lives down for our brother. They’re my family—truly the only family I’ve ever known.
No, I like my life in this town. There’s only one small problem going on. The Dark Devils MC wants our territory—which includes this whole county—not just the capital city of Hi-Man. They’re willing to do anything to get it. I know a hit has been put on my life. I’ve been watching my back, and so have my brothers. Now, we try to avoid killing. It has been done in the past, but each of us would like to live a life outside of jail, so we’re very careful. Most of my guys have kids and old ladies. I need to tread carefully. For that reason alone, I haven’t called for a war. I’m doing my damnedest not to. Raiser is sorely testing my limits, however.
Today is the first day of December. The winter air is cold and harsh, and that means I’m in my truck—instead of on the back of my bike where I’d like to be. I’m moving way too early. It’s only seven in the morning. I’d much rather be back in my warm bed. It’s lonely, but it was still hard to get out of it this morning. I’ve been thinking more and more about trying to settle down again. The problem is I’m gun-shy. When you have an ex like mine, the last thing you want to do is give another woman power over your life. Still, it gets lonely. There just has not been a woman I want to try with—not to mention the fact that I’m pretty sure my ex-old lady Dee would make any woman I chose miserable.
That’s the thought filtering through my mind whenshewalks across the crosswalk in front of me.Holy fucking hell.There’s a gorgeous blonde in front of me, wearing a deep red velvet sexy Santa outfit. The top clings to the woman, showing off her big, beautiful—probably D-cup—breasts. One side of the material hangs down, revealing her shoulder. There’s white fur around the wrists of the tight, long-sleeved shirt—as well as around the collar. The short—and Idomean short—skirt is the same clingyred material with white fur around the bottom. She honestly looks like she just walked out of a Christmas-themed wet dream. It’s all I can do to tear my eyes away from her. I’ve always been a tit man, and this girl …Damn.There’s only one thing I want for Christmas this year, and it’s her—wrapped up exactly like she is.
Just looking at her is enough to make my cock go erect and hungry in minus one-point-two seconds. Shit, I’m licking my lips just looking at her and those beautiful, exposed legs in her hooker heels that I’m dying to have wrapped around my body. Her thick hair is messy, hanging down to her shoulders, and looks like she just got out of bed after a marathon session of late-night sex. Despite all that is her, one small thing keeps my attention even more than her spectacular body. It’s the miniature poodle in a doggy outfit meant to match the woman’s perfectly walking on a pink leash. The sexy and the absurdity of what I’m seeing clash, and I bark out a laugh before I can stop myself. She goes to stand on the corner of the street. It’s then I realize the woman has to be freezing—and I’m not just saying that because it looks like her nipples are about to burst through the damn top she has on.
Before I can second guess myself, I press the gas pedal when the light turns green, but I do an illegal turn to bring my truck around to the side of the road just in front of where the lady is standing. I get out and walk over to her, realizing I couldn’t stop myself at this point—even if I wanted to … and I don’t.
For the first time in a long time, I’m drawn to a woman. She’s not just any woman, though. She’s unlike any woman who has ever been in my life.
And I want more.
Frostbite, Firefights, and First-Base
GWEN
Jesus, it’s freaking cold! It’s as if the whole state of Indiana has taken part in an Arctic Polar Plunge Challenge. I need to get to my apartment—which isn’t that far away. Sadly, my car battery didn’t like the cold, so now I have to hoof it, and that sucks. Once I get home, I’ll get my neighbor to give me a ride to work. Kimber works the same shift as me, so she can drop me off at the house tonight. I have tomorrow off, so I’ll deal with the whole battery thing then. Of course, all that is dependent on making it home without freezing my ass off. When I get to the other side of the crosswalk, I fish out my phone. I dial my neighbor’s number so I can let her know I need her to drop me off at the hospital on her way to work. By the fifth ring, I feel a little panicked. It’s early enough that she should be home. Just as I’m about to hang up, she picks up.
“Hello,” Illa answers, her voice raspy, cracking, and congested.
“Illa?”
“Yes,” she responds, sounding half dead.
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask, my teeth beginning to chatter.
“My kid gave me strep,” she says, coughing—the sound of which is painful even to hear.
“I’m sorry. I was going to hitch a ride to work, but obviously you’re not going anywhere today.”
“Afraid not. I’m pretty sure I’m dying later.”
I giggle, despite the cold. “No worries. Get better. I’ll check on you after my shift.”
“Bye, Gwennie.”
“Bye, Illa.”
I hang up the phone with a sigh. “Shit,” I grumble.
“Something wrong?” someone asks behind me. It startles me so much I jump into the air and squeal like a little kid. “Woah, be careful,” the man’s deep voice says, his hand settling on my hips.
My body goes taut. I’m afraid to move—or breathe. I twist my upper body to look over my shoulder. Behind me is the sexiest man I’ve ever seen in my life. A huge mountain of a man with chocolate eyes and matching hair. He’s wearing faded jeans and a motorcycle cut over a black thermal. His hair is cut short, but the top is shaggy. The five o’clock shadow he’s wearing is scruffy and hot-as-hell. He reeks of trouble—which sadly always seems to be my type.
I turn back around, needing a minute of not staring at his perfection to gather my chaotic thoughts back in order. It’s then I realize he still has his hands on my hips and they’re burning into me, branding my body with nothing more than his touch.
