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I twist a lock of her hair between my fingers and give it a tiny tug. “Cross my black fucking heart.”
She smiles shyly and looks away. “Okay.”
More than one brother takes a good long look as I lead Jessica down from Bonnie’s place and over to where my bike is waiting. She loaned some leather boots and a jacket from Bonnie, and if I didn’t know better, I would say she fits right in.
She doesn’t have a fucking clue how it looks when I help guide her though getting onto the bike behind me. Last night was an emergency situation, but this feels different. All the boys know the score, but when she puts her arms around me and settles against my back, it feels like a fucking statement.
“Stay close and hold on. Do you remember last night? When I lean, you lean, got it?”
“Got it,” she answers. I can feel the nod, and I can sure as fuck feel her hands slide around my chest and flatten over my abs.
If we weren’t on high alert, I’d be tempted to take her down the coast for a ride so she can see that a motorcycle is more than just a way to get from point A to point B. It’s a beast with as much temperament and personality as a horse, and as close to flying as we can get without leaving the ground.
Don’t want to piss Hellfire off, though. Bringing her to the bar shouldn’t be a problem since all three of us will be around to make sure nothing happens. The Burnout is practically club grounds, and right around the corner.
I doubt it’s her sort of place. Barely above a complete dive bar, but that’s just the way we like it. I take it easy on the drive and pull up out front alongside the long line of other bikes. Thestorefronts on either side are blacked out, but big neon letters proclaim The Burnout open, even if all the bikers milling around didn’t give it away. Rock music rumbles out the front door, loud enough to feel the vibration in my chest.
I put my hands around Jessica’s waist and lift her off my bike before she gets the chance to try and do it herself.
“I can do it,” she grumbles.
“I’m sure, but then I wouldn’t have the excuse to put my hands on you.”
Her cheeks are already pink from the ride, but they go a shade darker. I rest a hand on the small of her back and guide her to the door.
The bouncer opens as soon as he sees my jacket. “Tex,” he greets with a curt nod. “Your friends are at the bar.” His gaze lingers a little too long on Jessica.
“Thanks.” I switch my hold, putting my arm over her shoulder. She might only be around until this shit gets sorted, but she’s ours for the moment and I don’t want anyone to fucking doubt it.
12
JESSICA
I don’t havea ton of experience with men, but the way Tex walks with me feels possessive. Like he’s a big scary dog, growling every time someone else sniffs in my direction.
I kind of like it.
Especially because as soon as we’re inside, if I didn’t have him next to me, I would’ve run right back out. I’ve never been anywhere like the Burnout. It’s smoky and dark, the air heavy with leather and beer on top of the musk of people crammed together.
I can hardly see a thing with all the tall, leather-clad bodies blocking the way. I have to rely on Tex pushing his way through like a plow. I stick close as he splits the crowd easily with his massive bulk.
Tex leans down so I can hear him. "Let's get you something to drink and grab a table."
I nod, feeling like a total fake. Looking around, I fit right in wearing Bonnie’s old clothes, but I have no idea what I’m doing.The closest I’ve ever come to a bar is watching TV, and even then I’ve been limited to what I can watch with Anne.
Is it obvious? Lots of people seem to be looking my way. Maybe everyone can see it on my face that I don’t belong here. Heart pounding, I play it cool and trust that Tex and the others will keep me safe.
Bonnie was right about this being a man’s world. Guys outnumber girls by a large margin, and the women that are here are mostly on the arm of a man. A girl about my age, in a ripped tank top and a little skirt that barely hides anything, watches Tex pass with open interest even though she’s in the lap of a big, bearded biker with her arms around his neck.
I narrow my eyes and glare at her. She grins and turns back to her man, nuzzling the side of his neck as he talks to another guy. Still deep in his conversation, the biker slides his hand up her shirt and she wiggles on his lap.
Watching feels wrong, but I seem to be the only one that feels that way. Is that… Is that the kind of thing they’re going to expect from me? Would they even want it?
Do I want them to?
And now that I have that stuck in my head, it’s hard to get rid of. I'm inexperienced, not naive. Growing up in Victor’s house definitely stripped me of my innocence in everything but the literal sense.
I don’t see Riot and Ghost until we are practically at the bar. Tex once again lifts me up onto the stool. It’s funny how easy it is to get used to being moved around. It’s kind of fun.
