Outlaw's Ride: An MC Romance by Carter Steele (books recommended by bts .txt) 📕

touch myself I think of you. My response would’ve been breathy and sexy, but genuine in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. God, I wanted this man.

Almost as if he could read my mind he kissed my cheek and a sharp thrill tore through me that stole my breath for a moment. I’d been kissed many times before, but never with this kind of honest yearning and tender care. Wreck was a man who could’ve been just like everyone else, but he wasn’t. That’s what made this so special, so unreal.

At least that was what I told myself.

A sudden knock at the door froze us both in place. With how quickly everything was happening we'd forgotten all about the pizza. That was now the last thing on our minds.

“If we ignore him, do you think he'll just go away?” Wreck grumbled distractedly into my neck. The scratching of his beard pricked my skin in a surprisingly sexy way.

“Pizza!” The man outside the door said then pounded out another impatient rhythm on the wood.

“Alright,” Wreck groaned loudly at the second rap when we heard the faint sound of keys being jingled. Not wanting anyone to walk in on us Wreck got to his feet and whipped open the door. “I fucking heard you the first time.”

“Didn't know if you was around. Was gonna leave it on the bed.” The short, greasy man staggered back a step at the sudden appearance of the angry biker. Wreck snatched the steaming box out of the startled man's hand as was about to close the door when the man saw me. He leaned in slightly and a wide, crooked, gold-capped, smile split his face. “Evenin', Jez.”

Suddenly I felt more disgusting than before I took that shower. The man's knowing smile made me wither on the bed like a cold-weather flower under a desert sun. Wreck noticed the shame in my features and turned back to the man at the door with a darkness creeping along his intentions. I could see his fists begin to ball up and suddenly a hundred scenarios ran through my head at how the rest of the interaction was going to go. None of them were good.

I could only hope that news of whatever happened next didn't get back to Patrick. It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize that Clients getting killed over whores was bad for business.

“Leave.” Wreck's tone made it clear that was the only warning he'd give. The next sound anyone heard was likely going to be that of a body hitting the floor.

All the blood drained from the man's face as the weight of the situation finally landed on him. Being caught in the intense gaze of a man like Wreck made the man at the door realize just how much danger he was in. He began to apologize for the disturbance but had the door abruptly slammed in his face before he could fully stammer the words out.

“You OK?” Wreck turned back to me, setting the pizza on top of one of the dressers.

I nodded, covering myself up with the blanket. I felt suddenly exposed, much more so than if I'd actually been naked. Needless to say any appetite I had for food or sex was now long gone. My mood had completely shifted from awkwardness to full on guilt. I knew rationally that none of this was my fault, but that didn’t do anything to lessen the feeling that I was leading him on or promising him I was something that I wasn’t.

Sarah was just a dream, all that was left was Jezebel.

Wreck leaned against the dresser and crossed his arms, mixed emotion muddled his face. I had no idea what was going through his head right now. He was a hard man to read on the best of days. It was one thing to know what I was but to actually have to interact with one of my former clients... I was mortified. I fought the urge to apologize for something, but I wasn’t sure what exactly.

What must Wreck think about me?

“Fuck this,” he growled, lurching forward off the dresser and dead bolting the door. “I’m not going to let some weaselly-shitbag ruin my mood. It was a messy trainwreck of a night but we all made it through alive and we did what we needed to. That’s a fucking good night in my book.

“Let’s low-key celebrate with some room temperature pizza and whatever crap we can find on the TV. Maybe we’ll luck out with a nature documentary or something. What do you say?”

Despite myself I felt a smile float to the corner of my lips. That sounded really nice, all things considered.

“Good. Let’s get fat and melt our brains for a few hours.” Wreck smirked through his beard, turned on the TV and started searching for something to watch.

A small wave of relief washed over me with his nonchalant attitude, like all the expectations for the evening had fallen away.

If I was truly honest with myself being in this shitty motel room with someone for just one night felt a lot like what Patrick would’ve forced me to do with one of his clients. I was kind of glad that I didn’t have that pressure now with Wreck. I wouldn’t have to lump him in with all the other guys I’d had to fuck in places just like this.

I didn’t have to be his whore, at least not tonight.

11

Wreck

“Oh thank God!” Patrick walked briskly up to meet us when we arrived at his laundromat the following day. We’d barely dismounted the bike when he clasped Sarah on the shoulders. “When the fighting was over and I couldn’t find my sweet, little Jezebel I was so worried.”

I bet.

Sarah’s expression hardened up as she endured his embrace. She was apparently used to his shifts in personality to the point where she acted like she couldn’t see right through his insincerity. I was sure there was always a different