Butch fought like hell to make sense of the menu in front of him. Words swirled and all he could hear in his head was the raucous voice telling him to get Gidget on a flat surface as soon as humanly possible. There was only so much a man could take. And he’d been denying it for far too fucking long.
“I’ll have the Caesar salad and the chicken noodle soup.” Her voice came out a purr. She was so damn satisfied with herself.
“Uh, gimme the burger.” He creased his brow, unsure if there was even a burger on the menu. He handed over his menu.
“The Buford or the quarter pound?”
He blinked. “The first one.”
The waitress took their menus and sashayed away. Gidget pressed herself against him again, laughing throatily. “Where were we?”
Desire splintered and broke off inside him, a jagged shard pushing him to disobey everything he knew was right. He reached for her hand under the table, bringing it back between his legs. “I think you know right where we were.”
Her eyes flashed, her breath warm puffs against his chin. “My, my, Butch. There you are.” Her fingers traced the hard outline of his cock, and even through his jeans the sensation crippled him. He cleared his throat, dropping his arm over her shoulders, cinching her closer to him.
“What are you tryin’ to do here?” He asked it in a low voice next to her ear, and she grinned up at him like she knew all the secrets of the world.
“Nothing. I’m just playing around with something that has my attention.” Her palm made slow, wide circles over the bulge of his pants, and he gritted his teeth against the ripples of pleasure. This was dangerous. Too dangerous, for where they were, for who she was.
“Yeah?” He dragged his fingers over the smooth skin of her upper arm, feeling every last ounce of reason shrivel up and drift away. “You like paying attention to that?”
She nodded, parting her lips. God, he wanted to kiss her. Those pink lips would feel so good against his…probably even better wrapped around his cock.
“It’s all I think about.” Her breath came out soft and hot against his ear. She grabbed the length of him through his jeans, pumping up and down slightly. “Mmmm. I just want to see it, Butch. And then I want to swallow it.”
Her words ricocheted through his head, making his vison blur. He almost didn’t catch when Deke came into the diner, looking around for an open table.
Butch yanked his arm away from her, straightening immediately. Fuck. “Deke is here. Cool your shit.”
The sexy mood vanished instantly. Gidget pulled away from him and affected a casual stance. Butch waved at Deke when his gaze came toward their end of the diner. Deke’s face lit up and he headed toward them.
“Hey! I thought that was your bike out front.” Deke squeezed his shoulder and slid into place. “You guys here for dinner?”
“Yep. I made him bring me here after work.” Gidget flashed a corny grin. Thank God for her ability to play it cool. The blood hammering through his cock right now was enough to make words an impossible feat.
“Hell yeah. I love this place.” Deke turned, flagging down a waitress. She approached a moment later with a menu, and he flipped through it eagerly.
Butch took a deep breath, counseling himself to forget everything that had happened the past fifteen minutes. Deke showing up was a godsend. He and Gidget had been playing with fire…and he’d opened himself up to getting burnt. But with Deke showing up, he’d only get singed.
What the fuck were you thinking? He took an angry gulp of his coke. There was no doubt about it, Gidget was the sexiest woman he’d laid eyes on. Not just here, but his entire life. Every part of him wanted her—he thought about her even when he wasn’t thinking.
But nothing would happen, because nothing could happen. Getting involved with his new club president’s daughter was textbook definition of the wrong move. Because after a few weeks in the club life, he knew one thing for certain: he liked it. And he wanted to give it a fair shot, even though his loner days crept up and left him battling thoughts about disappearing into the night and never looking back.
“Whatchu been up to, Deke?” Butch was finally capable of words. He crunched on some ice, trying to feel as casual as he was pretending to be.
“Had to stop by the machine shop,” Deke said, closing his menu. The waitress sidled up and took his order, and then he leaned back into the booth. “Some parts that Geo ordered came out wrong, so I went to go fix them. Some shit for the new warehouse.”
Butch nodded. “Is that coming along?” Geo was overseeing a new warehouse construction, one that was safely off the books and not attached to the club, but would serve strictly for club needs. He didn’t know how he’d managed it, but sneaky business deals played heavy in it. The club had needed a safe house for their weapons and darker business dealings for some time now—the warehouse was the answer.
“She’s a beaut, Butch.” Deke tapped his fingers against the table, his gaze focused on something out the window. “You’ll go see it soon enough.”
Something squeezed at his knee. Butch’s senses prickled and he realized it was Gidget, snaking her hand back up along his thigh. He tensed, glancing over at her. She kept her distance, playing it cool, but damnit, she was playing the vixen part.
He shifted in his seat, trying to ward her off. This was not the time or the place. “You think he’ll have it done on time?”
Deke opened his mouth to reply, but his eyebrows knit together. Nothing came out of his mouth as his gaze followed something out the window.
“What is it?” Butch twisted to following his gaze, as did Gidget. Three bikes approached from the main road, pulling right into the parking lot next to Deke and Butch’s bike.
“Fuck.” Deke’s nostrils flared. “Them are Skulls.”
Tension slithered through Butch’s body and he sat up straighter, observing the situation before he reacted. The three Skulls parked their bikes, then made a big display of checking out Butch and Deke’s bikes. Nodding, they headed toward the diner, their pieces glinting in the sunlight outside.
“Fuck,” Deke repeated.
Gidget fidgeted beside him. “Those are the guys who chased me a few weeks ago.”
Butch’s throat tightened. The day he’d saved her. So these guys were going to have a huge chip on their shoulders. He looked over at her. “Just stay low and stay quiet. We’re gonna handle this.”
The door creaked open and Butch watched as the Skulls sauntered in. For him, the world shrunk to encompass only the three newcomers, but the diner chattered on, unaware of the tense confrontation brewing like a thunderstorm.
The lead Skull swept his gaze around the diner, and then it landed on Butch. Goosebumps ignited on his forearms and he didn’t look away. Wouldn’t look away. Because something told him their lives depended on it.
“They’re heading this way,” Butch murmured for Deke’s sake, watching as the three Skulls strutted toward them like proud cocks. A waitress tried to offer them menus but none of them paid her any attention. Boots clomping, they arrived to their corner table, the lead Skull smiling down at them like he’d just caught a fish in his teeth.
“Look who it is.” The dark-haired lead fondled a gun in his jacket, making it obvious. “Exactly the sons of bitches I’ve been hoping to run into for three weeks now.”
“Leave us the fuck alone,” Deke spat. “We aren’t bothering you.”
“Yeah, but the problem is you bother us.” The Skull gripped the edge of the table, leaning down to talk to them. A tattoo peeked out from the collar of his leather jacket, and his two cronies circled in tight.
“Can I get you three a menu—” A waitress began.
“Not now, honey.” The lead Skull turned to face her, a snide smile on his face. Butch’s fingers flexed at the distraction. That would have been a good time to strike. But not here. Not with so many witnesses. Not when he was fresh out of jail.
“What do you want?” Butch kept his voice level, snagging the lead Skull’s eyes. Every cell in his body told him they weren’t escaping without a confrontation, but he’d do his best to avoid it. Even if it was a fool’s hope.
“We want the girl.”
Gidget reached out for Butch’s leg, but this time desire didn’t shoot through him. He knew this was all about fear.
“Fuck off, Chach,” Gidget said, her voice wavering only slightly. “I told you assholes in the bar I’m not into what you have to offer.”
The two guys at the side stepped in closer. “I told you my name isn’t Chach, it’s Chase.” Chase’s eyes grew foreboding, like he might snap at the provocation. “And if you get it wrong again I’ll make you pay like I was going to the other day.”
“Stay quiet,” Butch said under his breath, turning to face Gidget.
“We’re prepared to make this messy,” Chase said, his voice eerily calm. “After everything you Carvers have done to us, throughout all these years, we’re more than overdue for this sort of...repayment.”
Deke huffed with a laugh. “You’re fucking insane.”
“We’re not negotiating,” Butch said, his heart picking up a rapid clip in his chest. “You don’t make deals like this in a diner.”
“No?” Chase pulled back a little, giving a sardonic grin. “Well, shit. I thought that’s how all hostage situations began. In the middle of a diner.”
“You try anything, they’ll call the cops.” Deke said. “Neither side needs that right now. Think with the right head.”
Butch’s jaw tensed as Chase slipped his hand inside his cut.
“Oh, I’m thinking with the right head.” Chase slipped out his gun, brought it right to the side of Butch’s temple. “Are you gonna think with yours?”
Butch stilled, the cold metal of the barrel digging into his skin. Deke reached for his gun but Chase tutted.
“We’ll do this quietly,” Chase said. The gun clicked. From the corner of his eye, he saw the two Skulls at his side draw their own guns. Curse words stormed through his head. How you gonna get out of this one?
“You’re gonna cause a scene,” Butch said, keeping his voice low. He scanned the line of booths in front of him. Nobody had noticed yet, but he wasn’t sure what was worse—the diner reacting or this unfolding beneath their noses.
“Not if you hand over the girl.” Chase’s voice had an edge to it, one that sent Butch’s pulse racing.
“I’m not going with you. You’re a bunch of sleazebags.” Gidget sounded way more confident than he’d expected.
Chase laughed haughtily. “And this from the mouth of a whore? Don’t worry, we’ll put that pretty little mouth to use soon enough. Like I’ve been planning all along.”
Butch’s muscles twitched, containing the violent urges coursing through him. He’d pummel this guy to a pulp and then he’d do the same to the other two. A gasp rang through the diner, followed by a plate smashing against the floor. Butch’s gaze sought out the source—a waitress across the diner stood frozen in terror, staring at Chase’s gun.
Chase disengaged momentarily, Butch could feel him lose his focus and slip away. Butch took that chance to grab his wrist, wringing it violently to the side, pinning Chase between the booth and the wall so hard that he thought his head cracked open.
“You touch her and you die,” Butch snarled, pressing his knee into the back of his neck. Chase mumbled something incoherent while the diner erupted in chaos behind them. Word must be spreading. Nervousness jolted through the diner and Deke kept his gun trained on the two Skulls, who looked like they were ready to run.
“I’m calling the police!” Someone’s voice rang through the diner, and Butch knew the time was now or never. He rammed his knee into the back of Chase’s neck while he yanked violently on the arm he had pinned behind his back, executing a move that he knew would dislocate the shoulder, or at least severely injure him.
Chase groaned and went limp beneath him. His two sidekicks tugged at Butch, shouting warnings. “Get the fuck off of him or we’ll shoot.”
“The police are on their way!” A nervous female voice shouted across the diner.
“Shit,” swore one of the Skulls.
“We have to get out of here,” Deke said, tugging at Butch shoulder. “Come on. Let his guys take him and get the fuck out of here.”
Butch stumbled backward and the two Skulls descended on Chase, propping him up so they could help him to standing. Chase’s face was contorted in pain.
“You motherfucker,” Chase spat as his club brothers propped him up. “You’re gonna pay for this.”
Chase’s words cycloned in his head, pushing him over the edge again. “Fuck you,” Butch spat, and buried his fist into his gut.
“Butch!” Gidget shrieked, tugged at his arm. She had climbed out of the booth and was heading down the aisle toward the door, her face streaked with worry. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
Butch backed away, slowly realizing that the diner had mostly emptied out. Patrons waited outside, others backed onto the far side. Worried faces told him all he needed to know. They’d recognized the latent danger here.
“Come on.” Deke bolted toward the front door, and he and Gidget followed suit. Outside, the sun bore down heavy, threatening storms with the tight curl of humidity.
“I’m gonna stay back,” Deke announced, handing Gidget and Butch their helmets. “Just to make sure everything clears out here. The police are on their way, and I’m on good terms with them.”
“We didn’t do anything wrong,” Butch said, sliding his leg over the bike.
“No, but who knows what everyone else saw.”
“To them it was just a biker gang fight,” Gidget said, sliding onto the bike behind him. “Who cares when the Carvers have beef with the Skulls?”
“But depending on who saw what, it might have looked like Butch started it.” Deke grimaced.
“But they fucking threatened to take me hostage and rape me!” Gidget’s voice was shrill, reflecting the same emotion that had prompted Butch to break Chase’s damn arm.
“Go straight to the clubhouse and wait there. We’ll figure this out.” He rapped his knuckles on the back of Butch’s bike. Butch revved the engine and tore out of the parking lot, gravel dust spraying behind him, just as Chase and his cronies hobbled out of the diner.
He blazed down the road, as fast as he could go, eager to get to the clubhouse. He’d done what felt right. How else could he protect him and Gidget in the face of threats? And he’d done it without making an enormous scene. He should be congratulated, really.
“That was so scary.”
Gidget’s shaky voice next to his ear made his chest tighten. He was too pumped up on adrenaline to think about how that might have been for her, the bystander being threatened. But the mere thought of her getting hurt, being touched by one of those idiots made the rage slither through him all over again.
“I know. I’m sorry that happened.” He squinted into the sun as they headed for the clubhouse. When they pulled into the parking lot and the main gates slid shut behind them, he relaxed a little, the threat of Skulls or police now safely behind them. For now.
Gidget hopped off the bike and paced over the cement, her face knit with worry. “They put a gun to your head, Butch.”
“I’ve had worse done to me. What they threatened you with was unforgiveable.”
She huffed. “But how come you didn’t shit your pants or something? He was like a breath away from shooting you. I fucking heard him pull the trigger.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t against your head.”
“Your life?” Gidget’s voice rang shrill. She grabbed him by the arm when he started for the clubhouse. “Your life matters too. Just because you’re assigned to be at my side doesn’t mean you don’t matter.”
Her words hit a place inside him too deep to properly register. A place that hadn’t been touched since he was a kid. “Listen, we made it out fine. We’re both fine. And now we need to focus on the next step. Shit is way more dangerous for you than we both realized.”
Butch stormed toward the clubhouse, anxious to meet with Geo and get a game plan going. Because now the stakes were too high—they weren’t just after the brothers, they wanted to take Gidget down personally. And who knew to what depths they’d stoop to get her.
Butch’s performance today could only stoke the fire.