XANDER (The Caine Brothers Book 2) (5 page)

He’d be surprised if Hank the Bug did as he promised, which meant he and Dude would have to revisit that problem. But they still had other options. Despite his overall distaste for violence—he preferred peaceful solutions where possible since they were usually born of practicality and lasted a lot longer—sometimes the thought of visiting violence on particularly deserving people gave him a good old-fashioned rush of adrenaline. The thought of helping Bug get what he truly deserved warmed Xander’s heart.

What his mind really wanted to turn over and savor as he rode was the mystery woman who’d marched into his life, blown his mind, then marched right out again. Bold, beautiful, sassy and fucking sexy as hell, he had no idea who she was. He’d asked Daisy, but the woman had paid with cash and hadn’t shared her name. If she was local, he’d find her; even if it took him forever, he’d find her. If she was an out-of-towner, that presented a tougher challenge.

As the landscape flew by, he replayed that sex over and over in his mind. The mussed black pixie hair, the stormy gray eyes, those delicious pouty pink lips, and how she demanded her due—she was no weak, submissive girl. She was a tiger—exactly the kind of woman he liked best, but was rarely able to find. There’d been something else there, too, some weird connection, like they’d met or knew each other already. The intensity between them had been electric, like nothing he’d ever felt before.

It didn’t hurt she had the most gorgeous ass he’d ever seen, either. He wanted to take a bite out of the damn thing it was so perfect. His cock twitched at the thought of sinking into her warm, tight depths again.

Thoughts of finding her and exploring every inch of her—consuming every bit of her—haunted him the entire trip to Galveston. The miles disappeared and before he knew it he pulled into the parking lot of the Best-Country-Holiday-Suites-Inn-whatever hotel where most of the club had booked rooms. By the number of bikes in the lot, he guessed they’d been out late last night and slept in this morning.

After checking in, he headed for his room. The first couple of rallies he attended, he’d camped out with the diehards, but he gave up on that shit fast. He could still enjoy the rally events without having to be in the middle of it the whole time. Besides, he liked beds and indoor plumbing.

He went next door and banged on the door. When nobody answered, he pounded again and heard a mumbled ‘fuck off’ from the other side. One more knock and a naked Dude flung the door open and with eyes squinted shut yelled, “What the fuck do you want?”

“First thing I want is for you to put some clothes on,” Xander said.

Dude’s eyes flew open and he grinned ear to ear. “What’s the matter, afraid you’ll see something you can’t live without?”

Xander scoffed. “Got one of my own, thanks, and you’re not really my type.”

Dude turned and strutted back into his room, scratching his hairy ass as he stopped in front of the open window, displaying himself to the world beyond. “I’m everybody’s type,” he said.

Xander followed him inside, shutting the door behind him, then flopped into a chair while Dude finally dragged on a pair of sweats. “Keep telling yourself that, asshole.”

Dude sat on the bed and ran his hands over his mostly shaved head. “So, what kept you so busy you had to miss the pub crawl last night?”

He waved a dismissive gesture. “Just some personal stuff. What’s on the agenda today?”

“What’s her name?” Dude waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Why do you assume there’s a woman involved?”

“Because if anyone needs to get laid, it’s you. I’m pulling for you, man.”

“Just because I’m more selective about where I plant my dick, doesn’t mean I need to get laid. I do fine, thanks,” Xander said. “Have you had breakfast yet? I’m starved.”

A huge grin spread across Dude’s face. “You did get laid last night.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “You’re a douche, you know that right?”

Someone knocked on the door. Dude stood to answer it, rubbing his hands together. “You have to tell me all about it over breakfast.”

“Did you turn into a girl overnight? We’re not besties. I’m not going to sit over coffee and a donut and talk about sex.”

It turned out to be Chico at the door. He followed Dude back into the room.

“So you admit you had sex,” Dude said.

Chico’s eyes went wide. “Killer got laid? Excellente, amigo.”

“Fuck you both,” Xander said. But he couldn’t help a smirk as Dude grabbed his clothes and headed in the direction of the bathroom.

“Who’s the lucky lady?” Chico asked.

Xander considered brushing them off, because he seriously felt like an idiot talking about his sex life, but it occurred to him he might need help finding her and the guys could be useful.

He shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“A little wham bam thank you ma’am?” Dude asked. He made some lewd gestures to emphasize his point.

Xander gave him a disgusted look. The problem was, he wasn’t too far off, except the implication with a quickie like that was once and done, and he wanted to find this woman again.

“It wasn’t like that.” He paused. “Okay, it was like that, but different.”

Dude raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Different how?”

How could he explain that despite the hot sex, there’d been a deeper connection? It didn’t make sense that in the span of less than a half hour where they said almost nothing to each other, only touching and sliding slick bodies against each other, he’d sensed something more. It sounded ridiculous even to him. They’d laugh at him. These were men for whom one night stands were routine; men for whom love and relationships and the idea of being tied down to one woman amounted to the proverbial ball and chain. Hell, he’d always been one of them. When his brother Hunter got married a few months ago he’d laughed along with the rest of his brothers at the idea of ever doing the same. Yet, maybe he just hadn’t met the right woman for the idea to have merit.

He shook his head. What the hell was he thinking? He’d just met her. They’d had fabulous sex. That was all. He didn’t even know her name. Why would he be thinking about marriage, for God’s sake?

“Nothing. Never mind. It was just fucking hot sex. Best I’ve had in a long time, but I didn’t get her name, so I’m kicking myself because I’d like to hit that again. You know?”

Dude’s expression relaxed as if all was right with the world again. “Yeah, man. Been there.”

“Where’d you find her?” Chico asked.

“The Outpost. She was just there having a drink,” Xander said.

“Well, maybe you’ll see her there again.”

“Maybe you rocked her world so damn hard, she’ll come back for more,” Dude said.

“We’ll see. So what’s on the agenda today?” Xander asked, ready to change the subject.

“Bike games are going on, there’s a run down the shore might be fun, and we have to check out the Miss Lone Star Rally contest. Might find myself getting laid,” Dude said.

Despite being big and bad, Dude was like a kid on Christmas morning when it came to rallies. So much to do and not enough time to do it all.

“There’s supposed to be some good bands,” Chico offered. Give him beer and music and he was happy.

“I’m going to shower,” Dude said. “I’ll meet y’all down at breakfast.”

“Good deal,” Xander said. “C’mon Chico.”

Dude popped his head out of the bathroom. “Oh, hey, Killer. Prez is on the warpath. Apparently he’s looking for us and wants our hides for hurting his precious Bug.”

“Okay. I’ll keep an eye out for him. You know where the Ravagers are staying?”

“Nope. Don’t care.”

Dude disappeared into the bathroom and Xander and Chico left him to shower. “What’s everyone else doing today?” Xander asked. “Have you talked to anyone this morning?”

Xander didn’t really give a shit what Prez thought about Hank’s punishment. The guy deserved it. But Mel had given specific instructions to keep the peace. If Prez—or any of the Ravagers—found him or Dude, that peace would be broken, and even if the Ravagers started the fighting, Mel would still be pissed.

“Pyro, Gimp, and Itch already went downstairs to breakfast. Not sure where Mel is, or the rest of the guys.”

They took the elevator to the lobby and when the door opened he stepped out and ran smack into a woman in a hurry to get on the elevator.

“Watch out there,” he said, grabbing her shoulders and putting her back a step. When he got a look at her, though, he froze. “What the hell?”

Her eyes flew open wide, like a deer in the crosshairs. It was his little Pixie.

Her mouth moved like a fish out of water gasping for air until she finally managed, “Oh, shit.”

“Who’s this?” Chico asked with a little too much interest.

“Nobody you need to worry about, chief. Go ahead to breakfast. I’ll catch up,” Xander said. He kept a firm grip on Pixie as he helped her into the elevator. The last thing he saw as the door shut was Chico’s shit-eating grin.

“Get your hands off me,” Pixie said.

Xander did as she asked, holding his hands up in a surrender gesture. But damn, if the angry sparks in her eyes didn’t go straight to his cock. Here he thought he’d have to go searching for her and she came right to him. Must be destiny.

“What’s your name, Pixie?” No way he’d get off the elevator without that information.

“Pixie?”

“You never told me your name. I’ve got to call you something.”

“You don’t have to call me anything.”

“What am I going to whisper in your ear when I’m fucking you up against this wall?”

Her mouth fell open, but she had no words, just surprise. Her eyes darkened with the same desire racing in his veins, though. That was all the encouragement he needed.

He glanced away long enough to find the button that stopped the elevator. It ground to a halt, and when he looked back to her, she’d backed into the corner like a trapped rabbit.

“We can’t,” she finally whispered.

He stepped across the car and wrapped a hand around her neck. “Oh yes, we can.” He pulled her into a kiss. He needed to prove to himself she tasted as good as he remembered. It had been one day. Only one day, but it seemed like a dream, or a fantasy. Nothing that good could be real.

Once he had his lips on hers—his tongue on hers—he proved himself wrong. It was real. Or unreal. Amazing. Fucking mind blowing.

Apparently, she thought so too given the needy sounds she made as she clung to him and kissed him back.

He grabbed the hem of her shirt, ready to rip it off her, but she dragged her lips away and said, “Not here.”

He did his best to focus on her eyes. “Why not? We’re here.”

“Someone will report the elevator as stuck. Maintenance will show up.”

“Then we’d better hurry.”

She looked up at him with those dusky gray eyes and said, “I don’t want to hurry.”

Well, fuck. His cock strained against his pants in agreement. “Where’s your room?”

“Where’s yours?”

He couldn’t blame her for being skittish. They barely knew each other. He still didn’t know her name. He couldn’t expect her to invite him into her room, or her life, as if he was anything other than a stranger, albeit one she’d already sexed up in a bar.

He reached over and pressed the button for the third floor. While they waited, he stood behind her and leaned down to kiss her neck. She made a “mmmm” sound and tipped her head to the side, giving him better access. He licked the skin, loving the feeling of gooseflesh rising under his tongue.

The elevator stopped, and the door slid open. He took her hand and led her down the hall to his room. The first time he slid the key card in, it blinked red. The second time, it blinked red.

“Dammit.”

She turned and gave him a look, one that said volumes about patience and things to come, then held out her hand. “You’re doing it too fast.”

The double entendre made them both smile.

“Nobody’s ever complained before.”

One delicate brow went up. “I’m not just anybody, now, am I?”

Hell no, she wasn’t.

Something in his gut slid and clicked into place and he had a bad—or good?—feeling that she’d just turned into a Person of Significance in his life. He should turn and run the other way. He didn’t need anyone significant. He liked his life.

But it was his room, and at the moment he didn’t seem capable of resistance.

She didn’t wait for him to respond. Instead, she turned and slid the key card in and back out nice and slow; her reward a blinking green light.

He reached around her and opened the door, shoving her inside and closing the door behind them. Her smug smile that she’d managed the door when he couldn’t, turned him on. Everything about her turned him on. He had the feeling watching her do the most mundane chore would turn him on as much as the dirtiest come-on. She was that sexy.

Inside the room, she turned and came to him, eager for more. He had no problem obliging. He shucked out of his leather jacket, and pulled her against him, kissing her again. He didn’t think he could ever get enough of that mouth of hers.

But he wanted the rest of her, too, so he slid his hands up under her shirt. Her skin heated his fingertips and that first touch sent an electric jolt to his balls.

He worked the shirt over her head and all the way off, and made quick work of her lacy white bra, flinging it to the floor, then stepped back to appreciate the view he hadn’t had the pleasure of yesterday. He loved the entire female form, appreciating the soft curving lines, but breasts had a special appeal. Pixie’s were, of course, perfect. Beautiful slope, rosy upturned nipples that made his mouth water in anticipation of sucking them into hard nubs, and just the right size to fill his palms without being too heavy. He appreciated all breasts, but certain qualities made them especially attractive.

“My turn,” she said.

She closed the distance between them, yanked the tee from his pants and pulled it over his head in one rough sweep, flopping his hair into his face.

When he shoved the hair back he caught the raw lust in her eyes just before she ran both hands up his abs and across his chest. Her touch felt right, like something he could get used to. A low murmur of approval escaped her lips just before she licked one of his nipples and tweaked the other, sending waves of lust through his veins.