Banger's Ride: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 5) (44 page)

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Authors: Chiah Wilder,Hot Tree Editing

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Action & Adventure, #Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, #Crime, #Thrillers & Suspense, #Heist, #Crime Fiction, #MC, #Fiction, #Romance

BOOK: Banger's Ride: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 5)
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“You’re the boss,” Hawk said. “
For now
.”

Ignoring him, she continued, “Okay, you have two months left on probation. It’s obvious they’re trying to find something to prove you violated it. If you get a violation, you’ll be sent off to state prison for a stint. Have they done this crap the whole eighteen months you’ve been on probation?”

“Nah, they just started a few months ago. Not sure why. As Banger told you, they’re trying to shut the MC down. They wanna put the Insurgents outta business. Don’t have a fuckin’ clue as to why.”

“Did you have any guns or drugs at your house?”

“I can’t have a gun. I’m on probation, remember?” He smiled.

“Drugs?”

“My house was clean. Not sure if sexy pics of my ladies count.”

“The pictures won’t matter to the police.” Cara pressed her lips into a berry-stained slash.
His ladies? How many women does he have? Is Kylie his main girlfriend? Crap… why do I even care?

Hawk’s voice invaded her thoughts. “What should I do?”

“You can’t go back to your house or to the clubhouse, since those are the first places they’ll look for you. Right now, we don’t know if they’ve found anything, so you have no legal obligation. If they found something, they’ll get an arrest warrant. It’s Friday, so if you get picked up, your butt is in jail all weekend. Bail won’t be set for you until Monday at your bail hearing. Do you have anywhere to go?”

Hawk shrugged. His complacency was a common thread which weaved through a lot of Cara’s clients. They never understood the seriousness of the situations at hand. And it got on her nerves—big-time.

“What about a motel?” she asked tersely.

“Are you gonna be with me?” He winked at her.

Twisting her mouth, she said, “I’ll make sure you’re settled. It would be best if you lay low all weekend. I’ll try and find out what’s going on and whether or not they found anything.”

“What about me staying with you? They’d never look there, baby. We’d have some fun. I’d give you a real good time.”

Cara licked her lips. “I’m sure you would. I can’t have you stay with me. You’re my client now, and I can’t find myself in a compromising situation. I could be disbarred.”

“You worry too much about all this shit, babe. Who’s gonna tell on us? I don’t play by citizens’ rules. Fuck that shit.”

“Well, I live in this so-called ‘citizen’ world. I’ve worked too hard to be where I am, and I’m not going to blow it.”

“Come over here.”

Shaking her head, Cara chewed her lower lip.

“I said come over here, woman,” Hawk growled.

Cara kept biting her lip.

“Shit, you’re the most infuriating woman I’ve ever known.”

In two long strides, Hawk was next to Cara, grasping her arms, yanking her out of her chair, and crushing her against him. Putting both hands on his chest, she tried to break away from him.

“Settle down. Give me your lips.”

When Cara tipped her head back and peered at his face, her breath hitched as Hawk’s gaze dropped from her eyes to her shoulders, and then her breasts, assessing her. Slowly dragging his gaze to her mouth, he ran his calloused thumb under her bottom lip and smiled, inclining his head as he moved his mouth over hers, devouring its softness. A shiver of wanting ran through her, and her eager response to his mouth on hers shocked her. In response, Hawk’s kisses grew more savage—he invaded her mouth with his tongue while his teeth grazed her lips. Fighting the desire that spread throughout her body, Cara twisted in his arms, but each movement made him hold her closer to him.

Her brain screamed,
Get away from him!
What would your family think of you now?
But Hawk’s kiss left her weak and confused. Her mind raced through a quick list of pros and cons, but her body lunged forward, lust tingling in her hands, her toes, and all her nerves. Silencing her mind, Cara grabbed a handful of Hawk’s hair and leaned into him, her taut nipples rubbing against his chest. He grabbed her ass and kneaded it while trailing kisses down her neck.

Cara’s legs clenched as a slow throbbing grabbed hold of her sex. Each stroke and kiss ignited a fire deep in her core. Her mind jumped back to chastising her body for its wanton behavior. Through muddied thoughts, Cara tried to focus and will her body to stop, but before she had time to think this through, Hawk slid his hand up her skirt. As he touched her panties and palmed her engorged folds through the thin fabric, he whispered, “You’re wet, baby. Your pussy is screaming for me.”

Cara’s body exploded with the tenor of his husky voice. As he stroked her nub, Hawk breathed in her ear, “Fuck, babe, you’re so ready.”

Her mind whirled. Common sense told her she was on the brink of losing control, but her body was a traitor and craved his touch. Never before had any man had this effect on her, and it was awesome, even if it was wrong. Squirming under his delving fingers, she arched her back, thrusting her mound closer to him.

“You’re greedy, aren’t you, baby?” Flicking his thumb over her clit, he chuckled. “I bet you taste fuckin’ sweet. Do you want more?”

Cara moaned.

Through the fabric of her panties, Hawk took her nub between two fingers, squeezing and pulling it. A bolt of pleasure ripped through her. She was so close.

And then he stopped. At first, she didn’t realize what was going on and her mind raced, searching for answers. When she opened her eyes, Hawk stood by the door. Staring at him, her eyebrows knit together and sweat beads formed on her upper lip and under her arms. Her body was aching for release.

“What’s going on?” she whimpered.

“Gotta find a motel, counselor.”

“What?”

“Doesn’t feel too good being left high and dry, does it, babe?” Hawk shot her a wry smile. “I hear there’s a good motel next door to St. Claire’s Hospital? Do you know it?”

“You vindictive bastard!” Realizing that he’d played her for a fool, Cara’s face flushed and her skin crawled. A tinge of nausea made her clutch her throat.

“Another time?” He raised his eyebrows at her.

“Never!”

“We’ll see.” Smiling at her, he licked his fingers.

She wanted to slap that stupid smile off his face. And he had dimples.
Crap.

Rocking back on his heels, he smirked. “By the way, is this one of those
compromising
situations you were lecturing me on earlier?”

Cara suppressed the urge to fling a law book at his smug face. She narrowed her eyes as he left her office, chuckling to himself. Standing in the doorway while fixing her hair, she stared at his back, her erect nipples visible through the fabric of her white shell camisole. Looking over his shoulder, Hawk winked at her as his gaze skimmed over her breasts. Then he swaggered out, closing the office door behind him.

“You okay?” Asher asked, taking in her disheveled hair and colorless lips.

“I guess. This client is such an asshole.”

“What’s up with his he-man attitude? It makes all us guys look bad.”

Twirling a strand of her hair around her finger, Cara said, “Some men think they can grunt and bully their way through life.”

“The sooner you get done with his case, the better. That guy takes badass to a whole new level, and the way he looks at you tells me he’s got more than his constitutional rights on his mind.”

Laughing, Cara replied, “They didn’t teach
this
in law school.”

Back in her office, she watched Hawk through the window as he jumped on his Harley. She held her breath when he glanced up at her, their eyes locking. Putting on his sunglasses, his face held that satisfied hardness that was becoming familiar to her. Even through the thick windows, she heard the Harley’s engine purr.

Hawk simulated a kiss in her direction, and Cara stood transfixed as he made a U-turn and rode down Main Street until he disappeared.

Chapter Five

A
s the day
wore on, Cara couldn’t get her encounter with Hawk out of her mind. She couldn’t believe she’d acted like such a slut.
How could I have let Hawk do those things to me? I hardly know him, and he’s my client. Damn.

She had broken so many rules on so many levels. For some reason, he brought out this irrational, horny beast in her. She grudgingly admitted he was hot, but it went deeper than that. It was like he stirred up buried emotions, dark fantasies.

Cara had always been a good girl: she did what her parents wanted, excelled in school, and she sure as hell didn’t sleep around. She was the type of daughter all parents wanted. But like any hot-blooded woman, she had a raging fire deep in her soul, and she wanted to experiment, to give in to passion. It was downright exhausting being the “good girl” all the time.

Hawk was the first man who’d brought those deep-seated desires to the surface. The first time she saw him at the biker bar, he drew her in and stoked that fire inside her. It wasn’t love at first sight—no, it was more like lust and restlessness crashing together. Since that night, the volcano within her had started to erupt.

Cara had never been with a man who was so blunt, demanding, and confident. Hawk was exciting and dangerous, and the perfect break for a controlled good girl. The problem was he was her client and was from the wrong side of the tracks. A complicated mess was in store for her if she continued to give in to her emotions. Her mother had drilled into her the importance of keeping up appearances ever since she was a child, and she would hate to disappoint her parents or tarnish the family name.

Just thinking about it made her stomach cramp. A distraction from her handsome client was necessary if she had any hope in jumping off this dark, dangerous ride.

The buzzer on her landline startled her. “What’s up, Asher?”

“A Luke is on the line for you. Says it’s personal.”

“Okay, thanks. I’ll take it.”

“I’m taking my lunch now. Did you want me to pick you up anything to eat?”

“No, I’m meeting Sherrie for lunch. Thanks, though.”

Cara pushed the flashing light on line one and said, “Hi, Luke.”

“Hi, Cara, am I interrupting you?”

“No, you’re not.”

Luke Tanner was a junior associate in her father’s law firm, nice-looking, in a male model kind of way. He had all the credentials: good law school, corporate lawyer, good family breeding—exactly the kind of guy Cara should’ve been going out with. He was always polite and considerate on their dates, but Cara didn’t feel any excitement or danger with Luke, not like she did when she was around Hawk.

Parents loved Luke and Luke loved parents, especially rich fathers like Cara’s dad. Luke had big plans for himself. He wanted to be partner by the time he turned thirty-eight (six more years), have a pretty, smart wife on his arm (Cara would do just fine), have a couple of kids (one of each sex would be great), and live in the Glenmore section of town in one of those mansions with a couple of servants to help out. Luke Tanner had big plans, and Cara Minelli was a key factor in them. What better way to advance his career than to marry the boss’s pretty and curvy daughter?

Cara was bright, sexy, and a good girl. The way Luke saw it, her only flaw was that she was hell-bent on representing the dirt bags of the Earth. Not wanting to practice in her dad’s law firm perplexed Luke—she could be partner in a year, with her connections. Why she wanted to be around those lowlifes she called clients was beyond Luke’s comprehension, but he’d make sure that ended once she had his ring on her finger.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“Rescuing me from a very dull evening,” he said.

This is the distraction I need.
“Sounds intriguing,” she replied.

“How about dinner and maybe dancing? I know it’s last-minute, but I’ve been busy on a complex litigation case. I need a break, and I want to see you again.”

“I don’t have plans. Dinner and dancing sound great.”

*     *     *

Thirty minutes later,
sitting at a table by the window in The French Bistro, Cara waved at Sherrie as she entered the restaurant. She hadn’t seen Sherrie since they’d gone out two weeks before to the biker bar. The French Bistro was a newer, popular restaurant on trendy Spruce Street and was reminiscent of a neighborhood café on the Left Bank in Paris. Wrought-iron chairs around small, round tables adorned with lace tablecloths and flower-filled glass vases welcomed customers. Oil paintings depicting street scenes of Parisian life decorated the yellow walls, while the aroma of baked bread enveloped the eatery, tantalizing patrons as they entered.

After the waiter brought their food, Sherrie, munching on her paté and Swiss cheese sandwich, said, “What gives, Cara?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re hiding something from me. I know you, girl. ’Fess up. You’re hiding something.”

Pushing her salad plate aside, Cara chewed her lower lip and said, “Remember that biker guy I met at the bar a couple of weeks ago?”

“Yeah, how could I forget that cutie?”

“Well, he’s now my client. I mean, he came into my office with some of his club guys, and I almost died when I saw him.”

“Are you shittin’ me? Your sexy biker is now your
client
?” Throwing her hands over her mouth, Sherrie laughed.

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