Ledger gives Roper a nod and pulls me from my chair. “Come on, let’s get you settled.”
I let him lead me out of the room as we stroll into the main space of their clubhouse. All eyes land on us but Ledger doesn’t stop and simply drags me along with him.
“Where are we going?” I question.
He doesn’t answer but leads us through a hall until he takes a hard left and enters a room. Ledger grabs a bag from behind the door and starts to throw clothes in it along with some other stuff. It’s a simple and small room without anything on the walls. There’s a bed, a TV, a closet, and a door leading to what looks like a tiny bathroom.
In the time I’m ogling his room, he’s done packing a bag and is yet again wrapping his fingers around my wrist and guiding me through the hall and out of the clubhouse. He heads for a bike and shoves his stuff into one of the saddle bags.
He hands me a helmet and I strap it on as I watch how this man straddles his bike. Stetson on, leaning his forearm on the gas tank as he eyes me, waiting for me to finish and hop on. Yes. Hopping. I’d sure like to hop onto his dick, my–in the gutter relishing–mind easily supplies.
The visual assaulting my brain makes my cheeks heat and I instantly drop my gaze to the dirt and get on the bike. I grab his leather cut but he swings his hands back to snatch my wrists and pulls me forward so I’m now plastered against his back.
“Your brother’s a biker for fuck’s sake. Don’t tell me you don’t know how to hold on,” he grumbles.
“Yeah, well, I’ve only been on the back of Colt’s bike and I don’t know you. So, excuse me for not rubbing my pussy against your ass,” I snap.
Laughter rumbles through his body and my nipples–rubbing against his back–harden at the shiver running through me. Great. As if my problems weren’t life and death, I just added sexually frustrated to the pile along with it. At least I’ve managed to lessen my thirst…though I replaced it with hunger, and it’s not for food. Ugh.
CHAPTER TWO
– LEDGER –
The calmness I always maintain and possess is suddenly hard to find. The second I laid eyes on her–sitting on the back of a horse like a goddess of war–my whole body tightened.
The way she kept herself rooted to the saddle while Toby was bucking as he always does was a real turn on. Her smart mouth and spitfire attitude by galloping off to the ranch, where she stood her ground…she’s a dynamite package.
Yeah, I could go on about all the reasons she intrigues me, but I need to focus when she slides off as I turn off the bike and put down the kickstand. I retrieve my stuff from the saddlebag and place my hand on the small of her back to guide her toward Colt’s cabin.
“Why do you have a key to my brother’s house?”
I hold the door open and when we’re both inside I lock up behind us. “As you know, Colt doesn’t function like the rest of us. Hence the reason a handful of us have a key to check on him when needed.”
“PTSD has changed him. He’s a loner but he wouldn’t hurt himself or others.” A defensive undertone laces her words.
“I was aiming more in the lines of not caring for having his phone on him so we can’t always reach him when needed. And yes, to the loner part. He lives out here for a reason instead of having a cabin near the main house or a room there like the rest of us. But it also has its benefits, having someone live on the outskirts of our property to keep an eye out. If only the man would carry a damn phone when needed.”
“I’m used to it. I just leave a message and he’ll either call back or not. It’s also why I write him once a month. A letter or a card. Here, let me prove I’m his sister since I know where he keeps the stuff I sent. I’m May by the way.” She gives me a genuine smile, her eyes shining brighter and becoming more enthralling than they already were. “Thanks for standing up for me, though,” she says as she stalks to the kitchen and opens a cabinet underneath the microwave.
To my surprise she opens a box and takes out a card. The front holds an image of Shreveport, Louisiana. When I take the card, I see a woman’s handwriting. It’s addressed to Colt, obviously, and there’s only a scribbled “Miss you, Mayven,” on the bottom left.
“Mayven.” I let her name roll off my tongue.
“May,” she shyly corrects. “No one ever calls me Mayven. Except for Colt, but only when he would reprimand me when we were younger. It’s also why I use my full name when I sign something to send him. It’s been awhile since I’ve seen him. I moved to Shreveport a few years ago, it’s where I was last night when–”
Her eyes go wary, a hint of fear flares and without thinking I cup the side of her face and let my thumb stroke her cheek. “Hey, whatever has you spooked, we’ll handle it, okay? Even if your brother isn’t here. You’re family. You’re safe.”
She surprises the fuck out of me when she lets herself fall forward and wraps her arms around my waist. I automatically hug her closer and let my eyes fall shut. Her body is plastered against mine.
Soft. Curvy. Unlike any other woman I’ve encountered. I cup her neck to keep her close, nuzzling the top of her head since she’s so
