Witness: A Motorcycle Club Romance by Rosalie Stanton (8)

Although Piper McAdams doesn’t fit the profile, Nathanial “Wolf” Schuyler can’t be sure she isn’t the woman he’s supposed to assassinate without getting a closer look.

Once he discovers his cover’s been blown, his options are limited: walk away or watch an innocent woman suffer the consequences.

A slave to his conscience, Wolf decides the best way to solve a problem like Piper is to take her along for the ride while he tries to figure out who wants her dead and why. It’s a happy coincidence that this gives him a reason to keep her close. 

The girl didn’t match the description he’d been given. Aside from being blonde, perky, of the appropriate age and bearing the name Piper McAdams, he simply couldn’t see the connection. His target was supposed to be a heartless bitch whose list of hobbies included mass extortion of another man’s hard-earned dimes, seducing married senators, taking candy from babies—the full shebang. The file on Piper McAdams simply didn’t match the woman he’d tailed the last two weeks.

Nathanial “Wolf” Schuyler was schooled enough in the art of deception to recognize it when he saw it. Piper McAdams’s innocence might not matter to others in his line of work, but it sure as fuck mattered to him. Though he couldn’t justify what he did, he could at least sleep at night knowing those he offed deserved it. This girl didn’t, unless she was cunning enough to have him snowed, but that wasn’t likely.

People had a way when being watched. They also had a way, subconscious or not, when they felt watched. Those who had something to hide always looked like they were covering their tracks. It seemed human nature, and though he’d seen men and women whose tells had been harder to pinpoint than others, they all slipped up eventually. Lies couldn’t be lived every second of the day. Eventually, the truth came out—even if only for a blink.

Those were the moments Wolf lived for.

And Wolf’s job description revolved around unmasking liars. Listed right in the brochure.

“Piper, Piper,” Wolf murmured, stepping away from the blinds and crashing into his rolling chair. Looked like another night in, which made him claustrophobic; as long as he kept his eyes on Piper, he wouldn’t feel caged. His rented room now seemed a mockery of itself. The bed remained unmade, cartons of Chinese takeout lay strewn across the floor, a pair of binoculars sat on his lap, assorted gadgets he used in the field scattered in every nook and cranny he could find and his small arsenal of assorted weapons rested at the bedside. Home sweet home.

What sort of evil, conniving supervillain chose an apartment adjacent to a seedy motel?

The answer seemed simple enough: the sort not expecting to be spied upon.

“Phone ringing.” Wolf wheeled over to his headpiece. Sometimes it helped to hear words. It made him feel less alone. Made listening in on Piper’s conversations more of a job and less of a hobby, because were he completely honest, he enjoyed this too damn much.

He liked her, and that was very dangerous.

“What are you wearing?” a husky female purred. Not his Piper, though he recognized the voice. A series of verbal clues and indicators had led to a background check eventually producing the name Callie Saunders. Callie had enjoyed a rebellious upbringing with a mile-long list of offenses and busts landing her in juvy hall more than a dozen times, but she hardly seemed the mastermind of some criminal conspiracy. A two-day surveillance had revealed Callie’s biggest illegality was the occasional joint. She might be a mismatched friend for Piper McAdams, but nothing more.

“What am I wearing? It’s late. I have on jammies and fuzzy socks.”

Wolf grinned in spite of himself. Piper. His sweet Piper. Her voice was pure and soft. Not the voice of the monster in the file.

How could someone with such a sweet voice get on a list of dead men walking?

“Well, shed ’em!” Callie replied. “We got a dance floor to heat up.”

A soft, harmonious laugh rang through the other end. “Not in this lifetime.”

“Aw, come on, Pipes! You can’t bail on me again!”

“It’s late.”

“You said that already,” Callie pointed out.

“Yeah, and I stand by it.”

“But it being late is kind of the point. It doesn’t get good anywhere in this shithole town until at least two AM.”

“Callie…”

“What? Not like you have work tomorrow.”

The line fell dead, chased by a cold silence that screamed louder than any amount of indignation could. Wolf couldn’t blame Piper in the slightest. From what he’d garnered in watching her, Piper’s return to Plainview, Missouri hadn’t been voluntary. After losing her fancy DC job, she’d had little choice but to go home.

Wolf felt her pain. He’d felt restless ever since arriving in Plainview and he couldn’t stand it. Imagining being stuck here on a permanent basis made him homesick for the open road.

Endless uncomfortable seconds ticked by before Callie heaved a sigh. “Hey, Pipes. Sorry. Outta line. I didn’t mean—”

Another sigh whispered through the line, softer this time. Sweeter. Piper’s. “No, you’re right. I did tell you I’d go out tonight, and hey, how better to celebrate the freedom of unemployment than getting down with my bad self, right? Give me a half hour or so to find something to wear and I’ll be there.”

Callie whooped in victory. “All right! You should wear that skirt. You know the one.”

Piper barked a laugh. ”I thought we were just trying to get you laid.”

“What can I say? I’m a philanthropist.”

“I’m surprised you know that word.”

“Yeah, well. I’ll see you at the club.”

Piper’s voice sharpened. “Not Parlor 77 again. That place is always packed. I can’t hear a damn thing, and when I do I wish I hadn’t.”

“Hence the fun.”

“There’s no fun in going deaf before I hit thirty.”

“Fine. We’ll find someplace else. Your pick and everything. And seriously, Pipes, slut it up. You never know who might show, right?”

Piper gave another short laugh. Wolf pictured the corners of her mouth twitching with the dry wit he’d come to associate with her pretty green eyes and gentle smile. “Right. See you soon.”

Click. The line went dead.

Wolf removed his headset and sighed, running his hand over his jaw. Looked like he had a night on the town after all.

No matter how many pep talks she gave herself, Piper inevitably regretted going out. Usually the second she stepped out of her apartment. She hadn’t been in the club but two minutes and already she wanted to go home. “I have no idea how I let you talk me into this.”

Strobe lights blinded, techno music blared and Callie’s sweat-soaked, man-covered body rocked carelessly to the beat. At least a minute lapsed before her friend realized she’d been addressed. Callie frowned and tucked a lock of brown hair behind her ear, yelling back an ineloquent “Huh?”

“I said,” Piper all but yelled, “I can’t believe I let you talk me into this!”

Callie motioned at her ears. “I can’t hear you!”

Piper rolled her eyes and waved to the bar then back to herself. This earned a sign of understanding from Callie, but Piper lacked interest in waiting around for the apologetic frown that would inevitably follow. Callie knew the routine by now. Granted, it didn’t do much to convince her not to invite Piper on these outings, but at least she understood when her friend needed to distance herself from the party.

It came down to this: Piper’s idea of fun simply did not measure up to the standards of many her age. Clubbing had been more an activity she’d enjoyed from high school through college. Sure, though she still sneaked out for a drink here and there, the sort of primal mating dance Callie performed on a nightly basis no longer held appeal.

It remained a part of the woe of growing up and getting a Real Job.

Losing the Real Job hadn’t magically returned the drive to shake her groove thing—it only served to knock her down lower. She’d gone out on a Tuesday night because she had nowhere to be in the morning, and that fact was too sobering for alcohol to cure.

“Hey Pipes.” The bartender flashed a warm smile. “Want your usual?”

“Diet cola with a slice of lime.” Piper nodded. “How’s it been tonight, Brandon?”

He shrugged, waving at the dance floor. “Oh, you know. Sometimes these folks just wanna go where everybody knows their name.”

“I think Callie is the only name everyone knows out there.”

“Yeah, well, that would have messed up my reference.” Brandon grinned and slid her usual drink into her waiting hands. “Any luck on the job hunt?”

Piper made a face and ignored a shiver of guilt, the flash drive in her purse weighing her like a brick. “I don’t think too many employers are in the market for someone who got fired by the US Secretary of Agriculture.”

“You never know.”

“No, if I never knew, I’d be more optimistic.” She sighed and tossed back a quick gulp of soda. “I have no idea what I’m gonna do, Brandon. The job market is insane and my savings is drying up faster than… Well, something that dries really fast. And every time I call someone about an interview, they tell me I’m either over-qualified or Monroe intervenes and I’m stuck back at square one.”

The bartender tsked. “I still say you talk to someone. I mean, someone qualified.”

Piper’s heart skipped a beat and her skin warmed. “No. Not an option.”

“The man—”

“I know. I know. But Brylie’s scholarship can be yanked at any minute.”

“Remind me. Kid sis?”

She nodded, not wanting to go into the whole sordid mess. She knew she had spoken with Brandon about her situation before, though with as many customers as he saw, she couldn’t begrudge him forgetting details of her life. He remembered the highlights.

As it was, she couldn’t stand the inevitable look of pity which would befall Brandon’s friendly face should she refresh his memory. The shorthand version detailed how her parents had been hit by a drunk driver on their way to her college graduation, therein leaving Piper the legal guardian of her younger sister. Brylie hadn’t taken the loss well, and her anger reflected in her grades, not to mention her social circle.

“Yeah,” she said dully. “Kid sis who’s a resident party girl on campus, and if she keeps making dumb mistakes, I’m going to get saddled with her tuition. I can’t afford that.”

Brandon shrugged. “All kids are party kids in college.”

“Brylie could give Callie a run for her money.” Piper nodded at her dancing friend for emphasis. The bartender grinned appreciatively. “And even if she doesn’t wind up getting the financial boot, Monroe could pull strings and get things screwed up really good.”

“I don’t see him having that kinda power.”

“Even if he doesn’t, she’s not the best student, and I have to make sure she gets a good education.” A long, worried sigh tore through her body. “I don’t know how I’m going to do this.”

Brandon frowned and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know that.” Piper hated the needy whine in her voice. In all her life, she’d never whined about anything. Not until Monroe tossed her to the curb. “I don’t know that, so there’s no way you can.”

“We bartenders have an uncanny sense of the uncanny.”

She cracked a grin, standing right at the edge of what would surely be a witty retort when a hand wrapped around her wrist. A warm, masculine hand directing her into an equally warm, masculine chest, and she found herself drawn into such deep blue eyes she would have sworn she’d drowned. Good god, she’d never seen a man so perfect. Not in reality, at least, or any reality she’d known. He felt the right height for her, topping her by an inch, more or less, complete with a wiry frame. His cheekbones were lickable, his dark hair cropped military-style and his ocean blue eyes stormy with promises of things Piper never even considered on a first date—but with panties instantly damp and blood suddenly racing, the rules she lived by suddenly seemed silly and prudish.

Too bad her brain had overloaded. All she could manage was a pathetic “Wha…”

“Dance with me.” His voice wrapped around her like a blanket.

“I-I don’t… I don’t really dance. I mean, I linger and stuff but I don’t dance.” Piper licked her lips. She spoke the truth. She used to dance plenty, but since the Real Job she hadn’t had much time for socializing. Now, even though she was without employment, she feared she’d forgotten the steps.

Oh, but he was pretty. A long, long time had passed since she’d had a strong reaction to any guy, especially simply by looking into his eyes. For the way her stomach twisted and her breath came up short, she had a feeling the night had only begun.

“Dance with me,” he said again.

This time, she didn’t protest.

What had started as a harmless infatuation had suddenly exploded into something Wolf didn’t know if he could contain. Approaching Piper had been the worst idea he could have come up with, but with her small, perfect body pressed close to his, her scent in his nostrils and her small hands gripping his forearms, he couldn’t muster the strength to give a fuck. She radiated light and purity, things he honestly hadn’t known still existed in this world, and getting up close, seeing her smile and dance, worry and chat, seeing her in her world had pushed him over whatever edge remained left to topple.

Standing with her confirmed what he already knew, what he’d known, in one way or another, since the beginning. His assignment had been a mistake. Piper didn’t match the girl in the file. She wasn’t dark, devious or dangerous. He knew simply by how badly he wanted her. Wolf wasn’t attracted to dark, elusive women anymore. All things looked the same buried in shadow. Piper didn’t. Piper shone. She was perfection.

Wolf frowned and kicked the thought away, along with the flood of others condemning him for breaking one of the essential rules of the game. Never touch the merchandise. Never get personally involved. Never let them see you. All shot to hell. Piper clearly saw him. She had stars in her eyes, and though she didn’t speak immediately, though she let nothing out, he knew with absolute certainty what she thought.

“Why me?” she whispered, her hips beginning a rhythmic sway. She looked surprised at first, as though the question hadn’t intended to leave the confines of her mind, but her expression hardened with conviction, and she didn’t take it back.

“Why not you?” He slipped an arm around her waist to anchor her into him. He needed her to feel his hard cock against her center.

He also needed to stop being a jackass and get a grip. Piper was off limits. Nothing could change that. She could be considered many things: a job, the target, untouchable and his meal ticket. Wolf didn’t fuck with his food.

But damn it, she wasn’t the girl he was supposed to snuff. She seemed innocence personified, and that sort of purity came with naiveté, which put her in even deeper danger. If someone wanted her dead, the man behind the hit sure as fuck wouldn’t stop because Wolf had a conscience.

“Guys just don’t do what you just did.” A pretty blush spread across her cheeks. She glanced down and smothered a grin. “I mean, I’m not a leper, but in places like this, my friend tends to get most of the attention.”

Yeah, Wolf had noticed. And perhaps, once upon a time, the same might have been true for him. Her friend had a feminine wisdom in the way she moved. She likewise bore all the marks of a woman long jaded with the dance, even if the dance was all she knew. Callie reminded him of Prudence in many ways, and he reckoned he’d trust her like he trusted Pru now: a zebra to a lion.

She had nothing on Piper.

“Most,” Wolf agreed softly. “Not all. Not my attention, at least.”

“I noticed. I just don’t get it.”

“Nothing to get, kitten. You’re a pretty girl, I’m a guy with eyes and I’ve been watching you.”

Slightly closer to the truth than he intended, but god, he couldn’t help himself.

Thankfully, Piper didn’t know the depth of his honesty, for the next thing he knew, he fell under her smile. “Yeah? ’Cause, um…”

Her moves became more confident even if her words faltered, the sways of her hips growing pronounced and sexual, the moves of someone who, though perhaps off the market for a few years, still remembered what to do, what signs and motions got a guy hot. She might be an innocent but she wasn’t a skittish virgin—rather, a highly sensual woman.

He nudged her with his hard cock to see how far she’d let him go, and when she answered with a sharp thrust of her hips, he had what he required. He knew he how far he could go.

She wanted more, and he needed more.

“Speaking my language, kitten.” His hands grew bolder, which he accredited to being drunk on her. The way she felt, the way she moved against him, grinding against his erection with the strokes of one who knew how to handle him all the while bearing a soft, naive look. She didn’t protest when his hands skimmed her breasts, rather smiled and motivated him to do it again, therein leading him further down a path of thorns.

“Naughty hands,” Piper murmured, grinning.

“You mind?”

“I should, shouldn’t I? This isn’t like me.”

He smirked. “Let’s see what else I can get you to do that isn’t like you, yeah?” His erection nudged the apex of her thighs. His mouth found her throat before he could help himself, and then he was peppering her sweet flesh with soft kisses and maneuvering her toward a darker corner before he did something to embarrass her and draw unwanted attention upon himself.

One taste. He just wanted one taste.

“You’ve done something to me.” Her legs fell open the second he tugged up her skirt. “I’m not…like this. Normally.”

“I know, kitten.”

She seemed to warm under the pet name, but insisted again, “I’m really not.”

Wolf’s teeth skimmed along the column of her throat, landing her back against the wall. His fingers plucked at the elastic of her panties. Wrong. This was wrong—they were out where anyone could see, out in a multitude of rampaging hormones but he’d pulled his dick to thoughts of doing exactly this too many nights to stop. She was the target, and he didn’t care, wouldn’t care. He needed to feel her while he could.

“Mmm.” He slipped his hand into her panties. “Someone’s enjoying herself.”

“Oh my god.”

“So wet, baby.”

“Please. I need… Please…”

His cock throbbed. In two seconds, he would rip those panties off and sink inside her, sealing his fate and hers.

Yet he couldn’t, no matter how badly he wanted it. He’d already crossed the line and he wouldn’t risk going any further. Piper was too high-profile a hit, and someone would get to her if he packed up his stuff and decided to leave her be. If he allowed himself to get caught up in this, it could damage his reputation among clients, or worse, bring him out of the shadows and into the light.

Too fucking late.

His fingers found her slippery clit and rubbed her softly. “That what you need?”

“Oh god…” Piper panted and arched against him, sweat rolling into her eyes. “More, more. More of that.”

“Like this?”

“Oh…”

“So sweet. Love the sounds you make.” Wolf wedged a knee between her legs, his fingers abandoning her clit just long enough to sink inside her fiery pussy. A long moan rode off his lips. “Christ, can’t wait to feel you around my prick.”

“There’s something…”

“Mmm, Piper.”

“Wrong.” Piper sucked in a deep breath, wedging an eye open and the spell vanished. Arousal met anger, anger met fear and everything came crashing around them. “H-how did you know my name?”

A gunshot exploded into the room before he had time to worry with a lie.