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

background. She wore a low cut, plain black dress that barely covered her mid thigh, but it was her purple silk scarf that really caught my attention. Immediately I was interested.

A shy prostitute? I almost laughed out loud at the absurdity of it.

“Hi. What's your name?” I asked, looking her over. Short with shoulder-length brown hair and little in the way of curves, I couldn't help but fantasize about all the things I could do to her. She was dressed more modestly than the rest, but not conservative by any stretch of the imagination.

Patrick assured us that all the girls here were legal, but the girl in the purple scarf looked about five or ten years older than the rest. That was fine with me, in fact it made me a little more at ease.

“They call me Wreck,” I added after not getting an answer. “I'm the Sgt at Arms of our merry little band.”

She held my gaze with the prettiest brown eyes I'd ever seen, but said nothing.

“Girl's a mute,” Dreamer's whore said, smiling, as she let him kiss all along her neck. “She goes by the name of Jez. It's short for Jezebel.”

2

Jezebel

Bikers.

The thought of being taken by a biker gave me chills. I'd heard so many stories of bikers beating the shit out of some of the other girls and now here they were. Bigger and badder than our usual customers. Most of our Johns were sailors, construction workers, and transportation guys from the local companies that worked in and around the harbor.

The biker before me – Wreck – caught my eyes the second I was shoved downstairs and into the laundromat. Wreck. It was a silly name that made me think of the action figures my little brother had when he was just a toddler. I forced Jeffy's playful smile out of my mind. Life was hard enough without thinking about him.

I was used to dock workers with stubble, bad deodorant – the ones that wore it all- and receding hairlines. This mountain of a man was something else entirely. Wreck had a thick beard and hair down to the middle of his back. His dark mahogany eyes burned with richness and intention. Maybe it was how he looked at me but under all that hair was a handsome, and extremely dangerous man.

“You go by Jezebel, huh?” Wreck asked, leaning closer then taking a step past me. He slowly walked all the way around me. This man ran as hot as this room did cold. Patrick killed the heat in here yesterday now that it was “summer”, despite it not even being the end of April. Maybe it was just how close he got to me as he looked me over but I could feel the heat rolling off him like hot pavement in July.

“Funny.” He continued, standing behind me. His words sent vibrations through my whole body. “You don’t look like a Jezebel. Jez? Jezzy? No that’s not it either. I think you need a new working name. This one doesn’t fit you at all.”

I, of course, said nothing. Even if I could speak I didn’t think I could muster up the words to do so. I didn’t pick that name. It was given to me and it wasn’t like I could voice my complaints. I didn’t like it but it was what it was.

When he completed his circle he stood fully before me. I startled at the crackle in his fingertip’s touch as he brought his finger down the side of my face. After drawing in a ragged breath I quickly settled my nerves enough to pretend not to be terrified.

Wreck had to be at least six feet tall, and was decked out in so much denim, leather and metal that even the violent dockworkers here would keep their distance. He just seemed larger than life, broader and…harder… than any man I’d ever seen. There was no way a guy like him would want anything less than rough. I wondered how long of a vacation I was going to get this time.

Wreck scared the hell out of me.

“Your scarf… Eggplant. No Wine.” He flashed a smirk then it was gone. “The shade of purple was on the tip of my brain. Definitely wine. I’ve never been much of fan, but seeing it on you—”

He cut off as I instinctively pulled away when his hand crested my chin and brushed against my scarf. Wreck’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly at my hesitance. I swallowed hard hoping that Patrick hadn’t noticed.

No such luck.

Patrick stabbed a glare at me that quickened my pulse and started walking over. For as intimidating as Wreck was Patrick scared me much more.

I knew too well what he was capable of.

“Everything all right over here?” Patrick asked Wreck. He laid a hand on the big man’s shoulder, then seeing Wreck’s reaction immediately realized that was a mistake and removed it. “Jez can be a bit…difficult at times. One of the other girls, Mandy or Victoria might be more—”

“Nah, we’re good. Just getting to know each other is all.” Wreck locked eyes with Patrick then cocked his head slightly to the side. The gesture told Patrick that he was done here and should probably leave. Patrick bowed slightly and did so.

I didn’t really know what to make of that display.

The other girls were younger, prettier and friendlier, so why did Wreck want me?

When Patrick forced me to work the floor with the other girls I was usually the last option for most of the clients that came in here. They wanted perky eighteen-year-olds not a dour, broken twenty-three-year-old. Well that wasn’t always true. Some of the meaner ones needed someone to beat on to get off. I was always picked for those guys. It was part of my twisted punishment.

God, I hoped Wreck wouldn’t be one of those guys. But by the look of him there was no way he wasn’t.

Every second I delayed the inevitable the worse it was