Chapter Fifteen
Sangre bent down low and made his shot, two of the striped balls rolling into the pockets in the far left corner of the pool table.
“Fuckin’ lucky shot,” Shotgun said, a joint dangling from his mouth.
“Bullshit. You already owe me three hundred for the last two games.” Sangre picked up the shot glass Kelly had brought over and threw it back, its warmth coursing through him.
“You want another one, baby?” Kelly asked as she brushed against him. He nodded and watched her sway her hips sensuously as she went to the bar.
“She’s so damn ripe, dude,” Chains said.
“Why don’t you put her outta her misery?” Cueball added.
“She’s got you guys to do that, or aren’t your cocks enough for her?” Sangre picked up the cue stick. “Ten ball in the right pocket.” With one fluid movement, he made the shot.
“The way you’ve been staying away from her and the other club girls, I’d say your cock’s gonna forget what the hell to do,” Army said as the guys sniggered.
Sangre glanced at Army then back at the table. “Nine and twelve ball corner pocket left. And stop worrying about my dick, dude. It’s fuckin’ weird.” He bent low and the clack of the stick against the balls was music to his ears. “That’s another hundred and fifty you owe me.”
Shotgun groaned and smacked Kelly’s ass as she walked past him. Looking over her shoulder, she giggled at him then handed the drink to Sangre.
“Thanks.” He took a sip and placed his cue stick on the rack.
“What the fuck? I gotta earn the money back,” Shotgun said.
“I’m done. I have to go to the office.”
“I thought Eagle was there.” Shotgun put his arm around Kelly’s waist.
“He is, but I have to go over the books.”
“So, you’re leaving now?” Kelly asked softly.
“Yeah. You been good?”
She half shrugged.
“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy and preoccupied.”
“With that friend’s pussy,” Army said and the men laughed. Kelly’s mouth turned downward.
“Shut the fuck up,” Sangre said. He went over to the club girl. “We can go for a ride sometime next week.”
Her eyes lit up. “I’d love that.” She pulled away from Shotgun and threw her arms around Sangre. “I’ve missed being with you,” she said softly in his ear.
“We’ll just go for a ride. Maybe go to The Brass Plum for food.”
“Don’t forget,” she said.
“I won’t.” He pushed her back gently. “I’m outta here.”
“Are you going to Lust later on? Steel said you wanted to look at the books.” Army drew Kelly to him, putting her on his lap.
“Shit, I forgot about that. I’ll be over there in a few hours. Are you gonna be there?”
Army wrapped his arm around Kelly’s small waist. “I start work at four, so if you come after that, I’ll be there. Right now, I’m gonna relax a bit.” He nuzzled her neck, and she giggled then kissed him.
“See ya.” Sangre turned around and headed to the parking lot.
As he rode to the office, the only thing running through his mind was how much he missed Isla. It’d been several days since they’d kissed and she’d pushed him away, but he couldn’t get her out of his mind. She smelled so good and felt so soft in his arms, and when they kissed, it was like electricity sizzled between them.
As he neared her street, he almost turned and made a beeline to her house, but he didn’t. He rode past it, the raw anger from her brushoff still twisted inside him. The texts she’d sent to him that night and the following day just infuriated him more. It seemed like she didn’t know what the hell she wanted. He knew she was with Benz, so he shouldn’t have been surprised that she was sorry she let the kiss happen. No matter what, he was definitely not sorry it happened. The only thing he regretted was the guitarist interrupting them when he did. If he hadn’t have come over, Sangre was sure she would’ve let him into her sweet pussy. I bet she would’ve loved it.
When Sangre entered the office, he saw Eagle by the file cabinet, rifling through folders. Eagle glanced over his shoulder then went back to the task at hand.
“Did Jon ever call you?” Sangre asked, throwing his set of keys on the desk.
“Nope. He didn’t show up for his post either. I think he’s history.”
Sangre sank into his leather swivel chair. “The guy was weird anyway. I was just trying to help out my pops.”
“Do you think he’s the one who sent the letters to Isla?”
“Who the fuck knows? It seems funny that he lied to her about being on duty and then we never heard from him. I went over a few times to his apartment, but he was never there—or at least he didn’t answer the door.”
“How’s Isla doing?”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Sangre bristled.
Eagle rubbed his chin. “It’s not a fuckin’ trick question. Is she feeling okay?”
“How the hell do I know?”
He took out a file and slammed the drawer shut. “I thought you guys were friends.”
“Well, that’s what you think.” Sangre turned on the computer and stared at the screen, looking at Eagle from the corner of his eye.
Tilting his head to the side, Eagle pursed his lips. “I guess you got some crazy shit going on between you two. We got a new contract today, so I’m gonna work on getting some guards together to train them on it tonight. Later.” He sauntered out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Sangre picked up his phone and stared at it. “How are you, Isla?” he murmured under his breath. The ring tone startled him and a jolt of excitement shot through him in anticipation of talking with her, but when he looked at the name “Mom” flashing on the screen, the feeling seeped out of him.
“Hey, Mom,” he said, trying to sound more cheerful than he felt.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“Nothing. Why?”
“You sound like you’re trying to be sunny.” Her tone told him her “mom radar” was in overdrive.
“I’ve never been sunny in my life, so I’m not trying it out today. How’s Pops?”
“Good. I can’t talk too long because I’m watching Riley. Rachel kept him home from school, because he said his tummy was hurting, but the way he’s running around the house, I think he played her so he didn’t have to go today.”
“He’s in kindergarten. I think the ‘staying-home-from-school’ excuses will come in a few more years.”
“I don’t know. He can be awfully ornery and stubborn. Reminds me of you.” She chuckled.
Sangre heard his five-year-old nephew’s voice in the distance. “I want a cookie, Grandma.”
“I thought your tummy hurt.” The sound of ceramic on tile told Sangre his mom had just put the lid of the cookie jar on the kitchen counter. “Here you go. But just one. I’m talking to your Uncle Steve. Do you want to say hi?”
“Hi!” There was a lot of chortling until it faded away.
“Everything good with you?” he asked, reclining in the chair.
“Yes. I called to let you know that dinner on Sunday is at five. Let Jordan know. I mean Isla. What’s up with you two using names that you weren’t given?”
Not wanting to hear her lecture him again on what a horrible thing it was for him to go by Sangre when he had a beautiful name that she and his father had thought about for months, he cleared his throat. “Isla’s not coming.”
“Nonsense. Rachel saw her at the bakery yesterday, and she didn’t say she wasn’t coming. She just said she hadn’t heard from you. Why haven’t you called her?”
“I’ve been busy. I don’t think she wants—”
“Of course, she does. Tell her to be at the house between four and four thirty. Nicole and Stephanie are bringing appetizers. It was Stephanie’s idea. I think those things ruin people’s appetites, but she said she found some recipes in one of her numerous cooking magazine subscriptions. Jim must be spending a fortune on all those magazines. They’re expensive. I see them when I’m standing in line at the grocery store, and I’m appalled at how much they cost. When your father and I were first married …”
Tuning her out, he turned to the computer and opened one of the company’s newest contracts. He chuckled under his breath: In his mother’s eyes, his brother Jim was perfect, and his wife, Stephanie, was flawed. A couple of minutes later, he heard a loud, frantic voice, “Steve? Are you there?”
“Sorry, Mom. The phone dropped. I’m at work so I gotta go.”
“I do too. I just know Riley’s into something. He’s being too quiet. Make sure you tell Jor—I mean Isla to be at the house. Why don’t you pick her up? That would be so nice and polite if you did. You two used to be tight when you were kids.” A large gasp came over the phone. “I have to go. Riley’s covered in glitter and paint. He must’ve gotten into my craft supplies. See you on Sunday.”
Sangre put down the phone and scrubbed his face with his hand. Isla said she’s coming to Mom’s? He thought for sure she’d be pissed at him for dissing her, and a part of him wanted her to never want to see him. Something was going on inside of him that he didn’t want to acknowledge. He kept telling the brothers and himself that they were only friends, but he didn’t feel like a friend. When it came to Isla, he was one hundred percent male, wanting to touch her, taste her, and fuck her. All he could think about was how good it’d feel to be inside her as she screamed out his name until her throat was raw.
Those stirrings Sangre held inside were different than he’d had for any of the women with whom he’d been involved. There’d been lust with all of them, but nothing more than that. The lasting connection, the ease in conversation, the humor, and the need to be together were absent in all of his past relationships. His body, especially his damn dick, was in overdrive whenever he was with Isla or thought about her, which was all the time. She was turning his world upside down, and he didn’t think he liked that one bit.
And now, Isla would be at Sunday dinner with his family, and he couldn’t deny the rush of excitement at the idea of seeing her. Sangre pounded his fist on the desk, pissed at the way he was acting. It’s like I’m back in high school. Fuckin’ shameful, man!
The door opened and Eagle popped his head in. “Did you have a chance to go over the expenses for the new contract? I was thinking that we may want to put our new hires on it.”
Sangre swiveled around to the computer. “I was just getting ready to review it. I got distracted. I’d like Ron to work on the gigs that require a lot more than sitting on your ass at a post. He’s got the experience, and he’d be a good fit at the trucking company. The other two will probably work out okay at the new place.”
“Sounds good. Cue Ball just came in. He’s manning the phones tonight and making sure everyone is where they’re supposed to be.”
“Who’s on for Isla today and tonight?” Sangre kept his gaze on the computer screen.
“Keith’s on now, and Jeff is gonna relieve him for the graveyard shift. Mark has the day off. You good with that?”
He shrugged. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I know you feel real protective with her since you guys go way back.” Eagle walked over to the mini-fridge and took out a can of root beer. “Cueball said you’re headed to Lust later on.”
“I have to go over the books. It looks like we have a slight discrepancy, and I wanna make sure it’s just an error and not intentional.” His face grew tight. Anyone who tried to game the Night Rebels was playing with fire. A clerical error was understandable, but if he found out someone was cheating the club, there’d be hell to pay.
“When’re you going? I may join you. I haven’t been there in a few months.”
“I’m leaving in a couple of hours.”
“Count me in. Come get me when you’re heading out.” Eagle gulped down the drink, crushed the can, threw it in the waste paper basket, and walked out.
Pushing all thoughts of Isla from his mind, he squinted as he read the small numbers on the screen, hell bent on getting some work done before he headed over to the strip club.
When he and Eagle entered Lust, it took a few seconds to adjust to the dim lighting. Two women on stage wiggled and twirled on the poles while men sat transfixed by their movements. Army came over, smiling broadly.
“I didn’t think you were gonna show,” he said to Sangre.
“I had to finish up some things at the office. How’s business?”
“Real good. Between four and six o’clock we’re jammed during the week. It’s the time when the husbands can slip in, watch a few hot dances, and be back home with the wife and kiddies before their dinner is on the table. Works out well for us.”
The men laughed then Sangre headed to the office behind the stage. When he slipped behind the dark blue curtains, a few women milled around. A brunette wearing a tight-fitting short dress smiled at him.
“Where have you been hiding? It’s been too long.” She came over and gave him a hug. Her strong floral perfume made his nose stuff up.
“How’ve you been?” he asked, stepping back from her.
“Okay. Nothing too exciting going on with me. What about you?” She ran her eyes over his body, her gaze lingering on his crotch.
“I can’t complain. I came here to get some work done, babe. I’ll catch up with you later.” He closed the office door behind him. Sangre hadn’t seen Elise since he broke up with her the previous year. When she’d first taken the job at Lust, he’d been surprised that it hadn’t bothered him when the guys leered at her. She’d blamed their break up on the fact that he was jealous and couldn’t handle her taking her clothes off in front of a bunch of men, but that had nothing to do with it. The usual policy for club members was that they couldn’t date or screw around with any of the employees at their businesses, so when Elise had been hired, Steel came to him and told him the policy didn’t apply. The way the club had seen it, Sangre was already dating the dancer before she was hired. What the Night Rebels hadn’t known was that he’d been on the verge of breaking up with her when she started working at Lust.
The fact that he’d never cared when she shook her tits and ass in front of the clientele told him he’d made the right decision in ending their four-month relationship; even seeing her just now, nothing stabbed at him. She still looked damn good, but his dick hadn’t even twitched when she pressed close to him.
An hour later, he went back into the club and joined Eagle and Army at the bar. Soon Rooster and Shotgun walked in and headed toward them.
“What’s going on?” Rooster asked as he plopped on a barstool.
“Not much. I just wanted to go over the books. It looks like the discrepancy was just an error, but I’m gonna keep an eye on it.” Sangre curled his fingers around his beer bottle.
“I’m surprised your ol’ lady let you out to play,” Army said.
Rooster’s pale blue eyes flashed. “Shannon doesn’t tell me what the fuck to do.” He swiveled around, his gaze focused on the stage.
“Shannon’s gonna have your cock if she finds out you were here,” Shotgun said while Sangre, Eagle, and Army chuckled.
“If she’s lucky.” Looking over his shoulder, he motioned to the bartender. “A double Jack.”
“Shit hit the fan at home?” Eagle asked.
“My woman can be a real bitch sometimes. Right now, I got my phone turned off, and I’m gonna enjoy these pretty ladies showing their tits and asses.” Occasionally, Rooster hooked up with the club girls, and his old lady was cool with it as long as he did it once in a while at parties. He respected that, and as far as Sangre knew, he never strayed with any other women but the club girls.
“All women can be real bitches. That’s why I’m single.” Army held his fist in the air as Brutus came over. “You can work the door later,” he said to him. Brutus had just started filling-in at Lust a few weeks before. Steel wanted more members working the strip club, and Brutus had been the first one to volunteer when the topic had come up at church.
As the men talked and drank, Sangre noticed one of the waitresses pushing a guy away from her. He slid off his stool and walked over to see what the problem was. He came up behind her and gently tugged her away from the table.
“Are these guys giving you a hard time, Capri?”
“Only this one.” She pointed to the back of a guy with collar-length brown hair.
Sangre moved in front of the table, his eyes narrowing when he recognized Benz. “The women aren’t here for you to touch. Have some fuckin’ respect.”
Benz and Arsen stared at him, then recognition flickered over their faces. “Working in a strip joint and shoving tits in customers’ faces for bigger tips is hardly respectable.” Benz cocked his head and picked up his drink. “And why the fuck is this your business?”
Sangre knocked the drink out of his hand and the glass went flying, crashing against one of the pillars. He leaned over and grabbed Benz by the shirt. “What did I tell you about respect and keeping your fuckin’ mouth shut around me? No one disrespects the women in our club. I’m giving you a choice to walk outta here or get your ass thrown out.”
“Are you for real?” Benz yanked out of his grip.
Without a word, Sangre grabbed him and began to drag him out; Benz flailed his arms helplessly.
“You sonofabitch!” Benz yelled.
“You need some help with the fucker?” Eagle asked as Sangre dragged the drummer past the bar.
“I’m good.” Sangre glanced at Arsen, who followed behind, his head turned toward the stage. When Sangre reached the front door, Brutus opened it wide, and Sangre threw Benz onto the sidewalk.
The musician jumped up and glared at him as he wiped the dust from his tight black jeans. “You’re so fucking pissed that I’m in Isla’s pussy and you’re not.”
Arsen yanked his friend to him. “Let’s just go, dude. Keep your mouth shut.”
But it was too late. His words were like red to an angry bull. Sangre rushed out and smashed his fist into Benz’s face, knocking him down.
“Don’t ever fuckin’ talk about Isla like that, you goddamn asshole!” He kicked him hard in the stomach with his steel-toed boots, and the man groaned and writhed in pain on the ground, as drops of blood spotted the pavement.
Arsen bent down over his friend then looked up at Sangre. “Enough. Isla won’t be cool if you beat the shit outta our drummer. We have a show next week.”
Breathing heavily, Sangre stood off to the side, clenching and unclenching his fists. The prick’s right. Isla would be livid if I give this ass wipe the beating he deserves. The way she’d acted when he got into a fight with a stranger at Cuervos told him she’d go ballistic over him kicking her fucking boyfriend’s ass.
“Get the hell outta here before I change my mind,” he said, gritting his teeth. Arsen helped Benz to his feet, and with his arm wrapped around the drummer’s shoulder, he guided him to the car. Sangre watched as Benz fell into the passenger seat before Arsen took off.
“What the hell was that all about?” Brutus asked, standing in the doorway.
“The asshole was giving Capri a hard time. When I called him on it, he disrespected me.”
Brutus chuckled. “These fuckers never learn. You staying for the Best Tits Contest?”
Since the club began the weeknight competition, the place was packed. He shook his head. “I think I’ll head out.” The altercation made him think about Isla and how her jerk boyfriend was at the club manhandling a waitress when he should’ve been with her. At that moment, the desire to see her overpowered him. It was like she’d gotten under his skin and made him crave her. It was a new experience for him, and it sent static charges jumping through his body. Just thinking about her made him feel a slight tug in his jeans. The damn douchebag doesn’t fucking deserve her. He knew he should just go back to the clubhouse, but he didn’t want to; he wanted to spend some time with Isla.
His Harley roared as he left the parking lot and headed to Isla’s house. He wasn’t sure if the ass wipe would be there licking his wounds while Isla smothered his bruised face with her kisses. Anger shot through him as images of her cradling the dirt bag’s head in her lap whirled in his mind.
When he pulled up in front of Isla’s house, he saw Keith parked in front, and he went over to his car. The bodyguard rolled down the window.
“How are things?” he asked his employee.
“Quiet.”
“No one showed up to see her?”
“Nope. She’s been inside since I got here. The only thing happening around here is that lemonade stand. The two girls are killin’ it.” He chuckled.
“Did a fuckin’ badge show up to get some lemonade?”
Keith nodded slowly. “Come to think of it, a cop did come by and buy a glass. He kept looking at Ms. Rose’s house even after he’d finished drinking. I didn’t think anything about it. I just figured he was keeping an eye on her. Should I watch out for him?”
“Yeah. Let me know how often he comes by. If he ever starts to go up to her house, call me. I don’t want him getting into the house with her.”
“Noted. Are you taking over?”
“I’m not sure. I’ll let you know in a bit.” Sangre turned away and walked up the sidewalk. Ringing the doorbell several times, he grew concerned. Keith didn’t see her leave, so she must be inside. Why the hell isn’t she answering? The notion that she didn’t want to see him crossed his mind, but he dismissed it and rang the bell again. He was ready to go around back and try and break in when he heard light footfalls approaching.
The door swung open and Isla, looking delectable in shorts and a tank top, stood staring at him.
“Hey,” he said, opening the screen door. He brushed past her, and the wicked scent of her perfume made him want to throw her against the wall and kiss her hard as he shoved her shorts down and slipped his finger inside.
“What do you want?” She closed the door and followed him into the living room.
“My mom said you told Rachel you were coming for Sunday supper. I just wanted to confirm that with you.”
“You couldn’t just phone?”
“Why? Don’t you want to see me?”
“You ghosted me, so I guess the answer is no.” She went over to the window and stared out. Isla was in a funk, and he didn’t think it was entirely because he’d disappeared from the radar for a few days.
Sangre went over to the wet bar and knelt down, taking out small bottles of booze and reading their labels.
“What do you want? Whiskey, vodka, rum, or gin?”
“A rum and Coke would be good. Wait, did I drink all of the Coke?”
“One left.” He pulled it out and stopped when he heard the song that was playing. Looking over his shoulder, he saw her leaning against the window staring out. “What happened?”
She glanced sideways and gave him a questioning look.
He stood up holding four small bottles and a can of Coke in his large hands. “You used to only play Journey songs when something shitty was happening.”
She faced him. “My life doesn’t have to be in a state of chaos to listen to Journey.”
He put the bottles down on the coffee table and walked toward her. “Yeah, it does. Do you wanna talk about it?”
Turning back around, she stared out the window again. “Maybe I’m just in a nostalgic mood.” She pressed her head against the glass.
As Sangre watched her, “Don’t Stop Believin’” filled the silence between them. He knew her too well. The summer between fifth and sixth grade, he’d talked her into climbing Mr. Wilson’s oak tree as high as she could. He couldn’t believe how well she’d done it and how brave she’d been when she lowered herself down the fire department’s ladder an hour later. After that, his admiration for her grew tenfold.
He grabbed one of the glasses on the table. Isla turned her head slightly when the ice clinked in the glass. He unscrewed the bottle of rum, poured it, and then popped open the can of Coke. “I happen to remember that Journey is on your ‘Life Can Really Suck’ playlist.” He walked over and handed her the drink.
Her shoulders slumped forward as she brought the glass to her lips and took a big gulp. Tilting her head back, she closed her eyes. “Okay. I found out Benz is fucking Lexi.”
Sangre blew out. “That really sucks.” I should’ve beaten the shit outta the prick.
“It’s not that I care so much about it, it’s more the satisfied look she had on her face when I walked in on them going at it in the studio’s bathroom. I mean, lock the damn door at least, you know?” She took another sip of her drink. “The thing that sucks more than the humiliation of it all is that I don’t seem to really care. What’s wrong with me? I’ve known Benz for almost seven years, been his girlfriend for over a year, and I can’t even cry about finding him screwing a woman I’ve despised since high school. I can’t even get pissed about it the way I should.”
He put his drink down and came over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Nothing’s wrong with you. The fucker never deserved you, and the inner you knows it.”
“But you’d think I’d feel sad or mad or upset or something. I’m just nothing. Maybe it’s because I was planning on breaking up with him. I don’t know. How do you feel after a break up?”
“Kinda like you. I mean, I feel bad for the woman, but I don’t think about it afterwards. I see it as just another blip on the timeline of my life. It’s fun, and then it’s not.”
She groaned and tilted her head back. “What’s wrong with us?”
“Nothing. We just haven’t found the right person.” A comfortable silence fell between them as they listened to the vocals of Steve Perry. When the song ended, Sangre stood up. “I’m taking you somewhere that’ll get your mind off all this shit. Grab a sweater or hoodie. We’re going for a ride.”
“Where too?” A sparkle lit up her eyes.
“You’ll see.”
As she ran upstairs to change her clothes, Sangre went outside to talk with Keith.
“Hi, Sangre,” the woman next door said while she helped a man fold down the lemonade stand.
“Hey.” He’d forgotten her name and saw the man struggling with the booth. “Need some help?”
The guy looked up and shook his head. “Thanks, but I’ve got it.” The two girls started doing cartwheels and somersaults on the grass.
“You have a beautiful motorcycle,” the woman said walking toward him.
“Thanks.” Not wanting to engage in chitchat, he turned around and headed over to Keith. Sangre, like most of the Night Rebels MC members, didn’t like talking to citizens; doing so, just for the sake of talking, was definitely something he didn’t do. The woman caught on and slowly walked back to her front yard.
“You can take off,” Sangre told Keith. “I’ll pay you for the three hours. Grab yourself a beer and relax for the rest of the night.”
“Cool. Thanks, Sangre.”
As he watched Keith drive off, he heard the clack of footsteps behind him. The scent of Isla surrounded him before he turned around, and he smiled. She’d changed into jeans and a floral tank top, but he averted his gaze from her because he didn’t want his dick to get any ideas before they even pulled away from the curb.
“Are you going for a ride?” the woman next door asked.
“We are. It looks like Carly and Letty are closing up shop.”
“Colt’s trying to fold the stand, but it’s not working. I don’t know what’s wrong with it.”
“Why doesn’t he just pick the fuckin’ thing up without folding it? They put the damn stand up every day,” Sangre said to Isla.
Isla smacked his arm lightly. “They’ll hear you. Faith’s real sensitive about stuff like that, even if someone’s kidding.”
“I’m not joking. The guy’s a bonehead.”
She giggled as she climbed on behind him. “You’re so bad.” She tugged his hair and pressed close to him, making his dick stir.
“Have fun,” Faith said, waving.
“How the hell do you stand all that friendliness?” he asked, moving forward.
“Faith’s really nice. I think she’s desperate for adult conversation. Colt works a lot of hours, and I’d think being at home with the kids all the time would get a bit boring. I’ve volunteered to babysit, but they’ve only taken me up on it a couple of times.”
“That’s why I live at the club—No citizens around. NO nosy neighbors. NO fuckin’ perkiness and … NO idiots who keep folding and unfolding a damn stand each day. The thing is cheaply made so no wonder it’s starting to break.”
She laughed. “This really pisses you off, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t have any patience with stupid people, dumb questions, or a million other things.”
“Do you have patience with me?” Her breath was warm against his ear. The bike vibrated as they waited for the light to change green.
“You’re in a class all of your own. Rules I have about other people never apply to you. You’re different.”
“I like hearing that.” The light changed, and the bike jerked forward. “Oh! I didn’t expect that,” she said, squeezing her arms tighter around him.
I could get used to this. It felt good to have her soft body molding against his.
When they finally left civilization, he picked up speed, making wisps of her hair stroke his face. She planted her cheek on his upper back, and her scent swirled around him, driving him wild with desire. She needs my friendship not my cock. When he thought about it, it made sense, but his dick didn’t think so. It was growing harder each time her hands slipped dangerously close, or she pressed tighter against him. It was killing him.
Concentrate on the scenery. The desert held a special calming effect over him. He loved it as much as the mountains and took every chance he could to ride through it. It was humbling to be surrounded by such beauty on such a large scale; it grounded him, pulling him away from the violent world in which he lived a lot of the time.
The road shimmered in the haze as the sun blazed down. Above, strands of gossamer clouds streaked the blue sky like spider webs. Parched ground, sagebrush, and telephone poles whirled past them. Lizards skittered across the sand seeking refuge under the shade of red-colored rocks. Up ahead, crows swarmed a roadkill; their sharp beaks tore at the flesh while above, more of them cawed, their iridescent black wings beating the air as they swooped down on the carcass.
In the distance, the San Juan Mountains pierced the sky, and after a long while, Sangre turned left and made his way up a steep road, leaving the desert behind them. When they reached the hilltop, he shut off the engine.
“Chaco Canyon!” Isla scrambled off the Harley and threw her arms around him. “Thank you. Thank you for remembering,” she whispered in his ear, her warm breath tickling his neck.
He held her tight. “How could I forget all the times we spent here before you left me? This was our go-to place when life got to be too shitty. You need this.”
“You’re the best,” she murmured against his shirt. She pulled away and put her hand over her eyes to shield them from the sun. “It’s just stunning here. You don’t know how I missed coming here and all our times together. I can’t believe I’m back.”
Sangre shrugged off his cut and laid it on the seat of the bike then opened one of the saddlebags and took out a blanket. Walking over to a cluster of pine trees, he felt happier than he had in a very long time. “Come over here in the shade,” he said, spreading the blanket down on the ground.
“In a sec. I just want to take it all in.” She went to the edge of the mountain and pointed. “Is that for real?”
He went over to her and looked down: A narrow bridge hung on seemingly translucent cables, curving over a frothing gorge below the steep rock walls. “You want to go down there and cross the bridge?”
“No way. It looks too scary. Have you ever been on it?”
“No. It was put up a few years ago.”
“So, you come here often?”
“Not really. I love it here, but there are some other places I love too that are closer, so I usually go there.”
“You’ll have to show me your secret places. I’m sure the women are impressed when you bring them up here.” She smiled.
“You’re the only woman who has been here with me.” She grasped his hand and squeezed it then let go and walked over to blanket. She patted the space next to her, and he went over and sat down. For several minutes they sat in silence, taking in the scenery and enjoying being there together.
“Do you want a beer or something?” he asked, breaking the stillness.
She laughed, and the softness of it mingled with the small breeze rustling the pine branches. “Do you always have beer with you?”
“Mostly. Water too. One of my saddlebags has a cooler liner. I had it custom made.”
“That’s awesome. Sitting here with you now seems like we’re back in high school, like all this time didn’t pass by. It’s nice.”
“Do you miss LA?”
“Yes and no. I miss the ocean for sure. I live right on the beach. I lucked out and found this amazing condo that didn’t cost me a fortune to rent. It’s tiny, but my front yard is the ocean, and I can never get enough of watching it. When I suck in the briny air, it’s like an elixir to me. I can stand for hours on my balcony just gazing at the white-tipped waves roll in and spread like fine lace over the beach after they crash in their soft way.” She pulled at a loose thread in the blanket. “But I don’t miss anything else about LA. If I could just stay on that balcony, I’d be good, but I can’t. The last few months have been wonderful in Alina. I like the slow-paced life, the congeniality of my neighbors, and the sense of community. All of that gets lost in the shuffle of a big city.”
“Are you planning to go back?”
She shrugged, brushed her hair off her face, and stared at him. “Why didn’t you ever contact me after I left Alina? I kept waiting and hoping to hear from you, but I never did.”
“I was pissed as hell at you for cutting out without saying goodbye. I was shocked when I found out you moved. You didn’t even call to tell me you were going.”
She leaned back on her elbows. “After we kissed on that Fourth of July, things seemed awkward and tense between us. It felt like you pulled away. I guess I did too because I was mixed up about it. I loved that it happened, but I was dating your friend Jay, and you and I were best friends, so there was a lot of confusion inside me.”
“There was for me too, but not even a fuckin’ phone call to say goodbye?”
“My dad was such a bastard that summer. He kept telling me and my sister that we could finish out high school in Alina, and then, at the last minute, he told us we all had to move with him to California. He knew the entire time that we were all going to move, but he made us believe we could stay. And I really wanted to stay. I tried to call you, but you weren’t home. I had literally a few hours to get my stuff together before we headed out. I didn’t want to text you or leave a message on your phone, so I wrote you a letter and put it on the door.”
Sangre cocked his head. “A letter? I never got it. There was nothing on the door. Believe me, my family would’ve given it to me if they saw it. I didn’t see any letter when I got home that day.”
“I left it on the screen door. I taped it really well so it wouldn’t blow away or something. I can’t believe you didn’t get it.”
“I didn’t. I’ll be damned. For all these years I thought you dissed me.”
“Me too,” she said softly.
“What did the letter say?”
“That I was leaving and would miss you. I told you to call me right when you finished reading it.”
He moved closer to Isla and ran his fingers up her arm. “I’m sorry I didn’t swallow my fuckin’ pride and get in touch with you. I should’ve figured you wouldn’t have just taken off. I guess I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me after we’d kissed.”
“I was scared because that kiss turned everything upside down for me. It was the best thing that had happened to me.” The eyes gazing at him blazed with desire.
Slowly, he ran his fingertips along the side of her face. “Looking at me that way is gonna get you fucked,” he said hoarsely. Isla glanced down at his crotch then back to his face, her eyes locked on his. He traced her bottom lip with his thumb, and she poked out her tongue and licked it. Lust pulsed through him as he pushed his thumb into her mouth. Her lips closed over it as she sucked it sensuously, making his cock strain painfully against his jeans.
Reaching up, Isla looped her arm around his neck and drew him to her, and he hovered over her, his gaze boring into hers. “You’re so beautiful,” he rasped, his dick aching to be inside her.
Pulling him closer, Isla teased his lips with soft sweeps of her tongue. He groaned and shuddered. Fuck. Sangre’s willpower waned as he tangled his hand in Isla’s hair and ground against her, wanting her to feel what she did to him. A small gasp escaped from her parted lips as she squirmed when his mouth hungrily covered hers.
She’s mine. There’s no turning back.