Page 14 of Last Mile

He looked as though he wanted to argue with me, so I pulled away from him and started across the floor. At the food table, I spotted the vice president’s wife, Alexandra, bouncing a dark- haired baby boy on her hip. I knew all about her from the files I had read, and just like with the president’s wife, I had been surprised that someone like her, a teacher from a respected, middle- class family, would have taken up with a biker.

“Excuse me. Where’s the bathroom?” I asked.

When her dark eyes met mine, a look of confusion came over her face, which wasn’t too surprising. I was sure she knew all the old ladies, girlfriends, and sweet butts of the club. The expression was quickly replaced by a smile.

“Just down the hall from the kitchen,” she replied, motioning to the right.

“Thank you.”

Without a word to her or the other women, I made a beeline down the hall. I burst through the door that signified it was for women by a pair of giant carved boobs on it. It was packed full of scantily dressed women fighting for mirror time as they worked on their hair and makeup. I bypassed them and went into one of the stalls.

Once I was safely closed inside, I placed my palms flat against the graffiti- colored walls. I tucked my head to my chest and once again began taking deep, cleansing breaths in and out. In my head, I kept repeating the mantra I had adopted many years ago.

I am stronger than my fear. I am stronger than my fear. I am stronger than my fear.

After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a few minutes, the overwhelming panic began to dissipate. I started slowly feeling like myself again— my strong, courageous kick- ass self. Pulling my head up, I rolled my shoulders to ease the tension the anxiety had brought on.

With my courage renewed, I focused on the task ahead of me. Throwing open the stall door, I made my way out of the bathroom. After entering the main room, I didn’t even falter when a hulking biker with gleaming silver piercings and arms covered in multicolored tattoos bumped into me. “Sorry, sugar,” he drawled.

I gave him my best smile before craning my neck to search for Gavin. I found him sitting alone at a table, nursing a beer. When I started to approach the table, he jerked his gaze to mine as if he had sensed me approaching.

After I took a seat next to him, he asked, “You okay?”

“Never better.” Knocking his hand away, I took his beer and downed the rest in one foamy gulp. When Gavin’s eyebrows shot up questioningly, I shook my head. “Look, it was exactly as I said. I just needed a minute to get my shit together. You have nothing to worry about.”

He grinned at my forceful tone. “Never said I was worried.”

“You didn’t have to. I could tell by your face and the fact that you called me Sam.”

Gavin took his beer back from me. “Ready?”

“More than ready. What happened while I was gone?”

“Bishop got me a beer on the house and told me to have a seat. I thought he was coming over to talk, but then he got called away.”

My eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Some backdoor meeting?”

With a chuckle, Gavin replied, “More like some hot piece of ass with her tits hanging out of her top asked him to dance.”

I rolled my eyes in a huff. “Men. Don’t you ever think with anything besides your dicks?”

“Nope,” Gavin replied with a wink.

Turning away from Gavin, I focused my gaze on the dance floor. It only took a second to spot Bishop through the crowd of other bikers. Gavin had adequately described the woman Bishop was with.

At the moment, they were bumping and grinding to where they might as well have been having sex on the floor. Out of nowhere a flush of warmth spread over me the same way Bishop’s hands ran over themwoman’s body. It seemed to get even hotter when I watched the expert way his hips pumped against hers.

Leaning forward in my chair, I continued to study my target. The pictures the bureau had shown me didn’t quite do Bishop justice. Although it should have been the last thing on my mind, I couldn’t help thinking he was far more good- looking in person. He certainly appeared more built— his muscles more defined, his chest broader, and his thighs thicker. His body exuded power and strength— two things that came in handy for him as a boxer and the sergeant at arms.

I couldn’t help snorting at how I felt like an airhead sorority girl with the lustful thoughts running through my mind.

“He’s completely fuckable, isn’t he?” Gavin asked, in a low voice.

Oh hell yes. Very, very fuckable, I thought as I fought the urge to squirm in my seat.

Needing to hide my illicit thoughts from Gavin, I said, “Just what the hell are you talking about?”

Gavin waggled his eyebrows. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were just looking at him.”