Chaser (A Category 5 Knights MC Romance Book 1) (2 page)

His hand fists my hair and pulls until my head is tilted sideways at the angle he wants. The angle he needs to push further his exploration. The tingling on my hair makes me moan and, as I do, I let him in. He takes possession of my mouth and I surrender with so much
 
joy I may actually be purring. Then his hand leaves my hair and caresses my cheek so softly that I forget to breathe. The tenderness of the gesture is heart melting.

The magic of the moment is broken by cat calls.

“Hey Prez, can we sell tickets to this show?”
   

Chaser ends the kiss and pulls away slowly. My cheeks feel so warm I must be crimson. His eyes, shiny like two onyx marbles, remain planted on mine as he yells to the attention of the intruders, “Beat it assholes!”

There’s some grumbling and comments about someone losing their sense of humor and then silence again.
 

“Let’s get in there,” he says pulling me behind him as he walks around the corner of the building into the dark alley.
 

I freeze.
 

“What?” he asks, his eyebrows shooting up as if not following him blindly was some sort of insult to his manhood.

“I’m not going into Fucking Alley,” I protest.
 

He laughs and says, “And I thought you were all prim and proper!”

I didn’t think my cheeks could get any warmer but they do and I shake my head. Pointing at the dark passage between the bar and the next building.
 

“I didn’t make up that stupid name!”

Chaser gets it now.
 

I’m not cussing but just calling the dark pathway by its name.
 

All towns have one.
 

If they’re fancy it’s called something sweet like Lover’s Lane.
 

But this is no classy place so we call it Fucking Alley.
 

Most of the neighborhood kids lose their virginity here and that sucks big time ‘cause it smells of beer and piss.
 

How do I know?
 

I’ve been there. We all have.
 

I let some idiots kiss and grope me in the alley when I was a teenager. At the time I thought it was kinda cool but it never went further than heavy petting. I had enough self respect not to have sex there. I’m not about to start now.

Chaser shakes his head at me and laughs.
 

I try to pull away and he laughs even harder. So hard, tears are pouring out of his eyes and he lets go of my hand to press both of his on his knees for support.
 

What’s so funny? The fact that I thought he wanted to do me in the alley? As I watch him laugh, I don’t know what to think anymore. Has he been playing some awful joke on me?
 

I don’t understand and I hate it. I feel water pooling from my eyes and I certainly won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me cry so, holding my head as high as I can, I walk away and into the bar.
   

The place is packed. It always is on Fridays but tonight the crowd is more compact than usual and there’s electricity in the air.
 

The bikers are a new addition to the mix and, in a small town like ours, it causes a serious reshuffling of the cards.
 

All the women in the room are studying the newcomers shamelessly.
 

The only difference between the single girls and those who came with a date is that the later are trying to be more discreet about it. Trying but failing because most of the bikers are smoking hot, well, for those who like the bad boy look.
 

And, guess what, I’m one of those.

The bikers act as if they’re right at home and that makes most of the regulars nervous as hell.
 

I look around and remember how my grandfather always said that anytime a new horse is brought into a field the addition shifts the equilibrium of the pack. With the arrival of the new animal, strengths are re-tested until the new hierarchy is established.
 

There’s not much difference between horses and men. The previous balance found between truckers and farmers is threatened by the mere presence of the bikers.
 

There’s fear in the owner’s eyes. He’s standing next to the bar and keeps glancing at a table in the back. I follow his gaze. Danny, the assistant sheriff and two other cops in uniform are sitting in the far corner studying the crowd while having a drink.
 

If this gets nasty, three won’t cut it.
 

I scan the rest of the room and see Belle. She’s waving at me from a table she’s sharing with another girl from work and the girl’s husband.
 

This is our lucky night. The table is next to the dance floor and close enough to the small stage where the band is about to play. I wave back and work my way through the little passage between the tables to get to her.

Until I bump into Dave.
 

“Hey Pumpkin,” he says with his most cajoling voice. “It’s so good to see you again. Where have you been hiding?”

I stare at him and wonder what I used to see in him. Was it only two weeks ago?
 

Did I ever think I was in love with him? Nah, no way.
 

Or, if I did, I’m sure over it. Right now I can’t look at him without remembering his face when I walked in on him and Marjory. They were at it doggy style and Dave was smacking her bony ass calling her all sorts of weird names.

A giggle escapes me and letting it out is like standing under a spring shower when you’re hot and sweaty.
 

Refreshing.
 

Liberating.
 

Oh, heavens, how amazing to realize that I didn’t care for him at all. The only thing that was hurt was my pride and that’s easier to fix than a heart.
 

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“Nothing special, I’m smiling ’cause, you know, it’s Friday and I’m on the late shift tomorrow,” I answer.
 

“I’ve been missing you Cupcake,” he coos.

I act as if I haven’t heard him which could have been true since the band is now playing and the music’s really loud.
 

Keeping my eyes on Belle who’s already on the dance floor, I say “See ya,” and step aside to move past him but I can’t.
 

The idiot won’t let me.
 

What is it about me tonight? I’ve become an asshole magnet.
 

And this asshole is holding on to me.
 

I look to Belle for support but the biker she teased on the way in has decided he won’t wait for a slow song to see if she’s ready to rub against him.
 

Shoot!
 

I’m on my own.

Dave pulls me toward him, his eyes set on my lips.
 

I put my free hand flat on his chest and push with all I have but I only manage slow him down a bit.
 

He’s getting dangerously close but I am so not kissing him.
 

Hell no!
 

I know I kissed him before but now … it’s not even funny.
 

Today, the very concept of doing it again makes me sick to my stomach.
 

We struggle and no one notices.

“Let me go!” I scream.

In vain.
 

The sound of my voice is covered by the music and no one but him hears me.

Maybe the guys he was sitting with do but if that’s so they pretend they don’t. Yep, deep in conversation, they are purposely looking the other way.
 
Anyway, they could as well be staring at us; they wouldn’t help. They’re his buddies.

I’m feeling scared but I shouldn’t. It’s Dave. I mean, come on, I used to date the man. He’s harmless. I have no idea what’s got into him tonight. Well actually, now that his mouth is so close to my face I do.
 

His breath is toxic.
 

There’s so much alcohol that it would take one match to blow him up.
 

God, he stinks.
 

It’s so bad that if he puts his lips to mine I’ll be sick. Yuck!
 

I want to take a step back but he grabs my wrist now.

Fuck! My knee to his balls seems to be the only way to demonstrate how not interested I am.
 

Before I can put my plan into motion, Chaser appears out of nowhere. He stands by me and extends a hand in my direction, palm upwards, like the old fashioned would-you-dance-with-me gesture.
 

Oblivious to the fact that the general atmosphere is tense and that the smallest spark is likely to start a general fight, Dave doesn’t let me go.
 

Without even looking at Chaser he growls, “Get lost man.”

Chaser’s smile freezes on his face. He doesn’t back away.
 

I watch with fascination as his stance shifts.
 

There’s something about the way he stands now: he’s in predator mode. The way he moves conjures the image of a tiger about to pounce.

Still not looking at who he’s dealing with, Dave digs his grave deeper.

“What part of get lost did you not understand asshole?”

Chaser takes a step forward and Dave turns his head to look at him.
 

They glare at each other for a second.
 

Dave is appraising Chaser and, despite his drunken stupor, he tries to make sense of the situation.
 

Both men are about the same height. Dave’s clearly the bulkier of the two and from the look in his eyes, I think he believes that, in a fight, he could have the upper hand.
 

I don’t.
 

There’s no question in my mind.
 

There’s something savage in Chaser’s way that is scary.
 

Well that should be scary for Dave.
 

But ever so sexy for me.

And suddenly the world goes dark.

When I come around the band’s no longer playing the same song. Also, it’s not as loud. I’m groggy and something cold is pressing against the left side of my face. I want to push it away to open my eyes but Belle stops me.

“Leave the ice pack on for a bit longer Holly, it will prevent the swelling.”

I squirm a bit and manage to open one eye to figure out where I am sitting.
 

I’m on the wood bench in the dark hallway that leads to the bathroom.
 

Belle is crouched in front of me, one hand on my knee and the other holding the pack next to my face. Standing behind her, the guy who caught her at the door. Both his hands rest on Belle’s shoulder like he’s staking a claim on her.
 

“Let me see,” she says as she pulls the pack from my face.
 

The guy whistles and says, “Nice shiner!”

Belle turns her head around and throws him a nasty look. Belle is fierce when she’s protective of the one she loves.

She scolds him with one word. “Piston!”
 

If I could, I would roll my eyes. Is that even a name?

She turns back to me and tries to reassure me.

“It’s not bad, really. You’re gonna get through the colors of the rainbow but by next week it should all be forgotten. You’re lucky, there’s no cut.”

I snort. Belle does have a talent for putting a positive spin on things but somehow it’s gonna take a lot more than that to make believe that I got lucky.

“Seriously, this could have been a lot worse, you could have needed stitches,” Belle says.

“What happened?” I asked.

Belle frowns. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

Oh, right, now I have her worried that I’ve lost part of my memory. I wave a hand at her to chase away her worries but she insists.

“Spill it,” she says, “I’m taking you to the hospital this minute if you can’t tell me what went down.”

“You mean how I went down?”

She smiles but insists anyway.
 

“Come on, Miss smarty pants!”
 

“Okay, so, I was coming to sit down with you when Dave stopped me. The asshat wouldn’t let me go. I was struggling to get free and then Chaser came and that’s it. That’s when my lights went out.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what happened,” Chaser voice comes from my left. I can’t see him but he’s close. Very close. His hand now comes to rest gently on my shoulder.
 

“The idiot was so drunk he punched her out when he tried to hit me.”

“Where is he?” I ask.

“Why do you want to know?” Belle asked.

“Because I’d like to take a baseball bat to his head and crack his skull open.” Belle frowns because it’s unlike me, I’ve never hit anything or anyone in my entire life. “Yeah, I want to check if there’s any brain matter in his head.”

Chaser and his friend laugh and Belle smiles.
 

“Chaser’s done it for you and I can report that nothing oozed out so it’s probably a big void in there.”
 

I try to frown but it hurts too much, yet Piston of all people seems to understand my question.
 

“Nah, don’t worry he didn’t get in trouble. One punch, that’s all it took.” Chaser’s friend talks like a proud brother. I put my hand on the icepack and turn my head to look at my hero.
 

He smiles at me.
 

That man is way too handsome for my own good.
 

“One whiff of Dave’s breath and Danny figured it out,” Belle explains.

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about him,” Piston says. “Chaser knows how to take care of himself.”

I hate the derogatory expression but right this instant this pretty little head is in no condition to make a snarky come back just to prove a point.
 

Especially since I’m not sure what point I would like to make anyway.