Authors: Kathryn Thomas
This is a work of fiction. Any names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons--living or dead--is entirely coincidental.
Hard: Black Aces MC copyright @ 2015 by Kathryn Thomas. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews.
Jack Jacob Jefferson, J. J. Treble, Treble J, or just plain Treble to his friends, looked the bar over. “Tell me again why we’re here.”
Stiles McCoy chucked. “Man, you need to open your horizons a little. Not every place we go has to be some shithole dive with pool tables.”
Treble swung his leg over his Harley and removed his helmet. “I
shithole dives with pool tables. This place looks to damned preppy for my tastes. I bet you can’t pronounce half the names of the beers.”
Stiles chuckled again. “College chicks like to hang out here. Maybe a couple of them would like to take a walk on the wild side.”
Treble grunted. Pussy was pussy, and the problem with college chicks was they liked to play games. At six-one and two hundred pounds of muscle, he didn’t have to play games to get laid, so why bother? Still, Stiles was his wingman, and if he wanted to chase some fresh poontang, he wasn’t going to rain on his buddy’s parade.
“If they do, what are you going to do?” Treble asked with a grin and then barked out a laugh when Stiles gave him the finger.
For a biker, Stiles was the most laid back dude he had ever seen. They had grown up together, their fathers working pipelines, traveling around the country as needed for work. Stiles was the one certainty in his uncertain childhood, and they had become inseparable.
At bit taller and not quite so muscular, Stiles had no problem attracting the attention of women, but he rarely imbibed. In fact, over the last year, he seemed to have lost interest in women entirely. Treble couldn’t understand it because he was
looking for the next conquest, so if Stiles was finally on the prowl again, he was all for it.
They walked into the bar and it was everything he expected: upscale, tidy…and not a pool table in sight. What it did have going for it, though, was a cluster of women in the back, all of whom ranged from damned attractive to super model.
“See,” Stiles said with a nod at the laughing women.
“Yeah, okay. Maybe you’re on to something after all.” They were drawing attention in their leathers and his sleeves, but nobody said anything.
“What can I get you gentlemen?” Jerry asked.
“Gentlemen,” Stiles said with a grin. “He must be talking to me. I’ll have a Red Oak. You got that on draft?”
“We do,” Jerry replied.
“Make it two,” Treble added before turning his back to the bar to watch the honeys in the back. There was obviously some kind of party going on back there and he grinned as peals of laughter erupted from the table. “What do you suppose is going on back there?” he asked with a jerk of his chin.
“Who knows,” Stiles replied, watching with him. “Looks like they are having a good time, though.”
“Yeah, I’d like to show them a good time. Especially those twins.”
“I don’t think they’re twins. Sisters, maybe.”
Treble squinted and decided Stiles was probably right. “Doesn’t matter. Either one or both together.”
“Here you go gents. Four-fifty or would you like to start a tab?”
“I got it,” Stiles said turning back to the bar. “Start a tab, please.”
“You got it,” Jerry said moving off once more.
Picking up his beer and sipping, once again watching the women, Treble noticed Stiles had fallen quiet as he watched. “You okay?”
“Nothing. Just wondering.” Treble watched his friend a moment. “Hey…let’s go over there and stir up some trouble.”
Stile snorted and grinned. “I think I’ll sit this one out, but go knock yourself out.”
“Come on, man! I don’t know what’s been up your vagina lately, but it needs to make like a fetus and head out.”
“Seriously. You’re starting to bum me out. Look, let’s just go over there and show the ladies how J. J. Treble and Stiles McCoy roll. They won’t know what hit them.”
Stiles smiled at his friend. “No, but don’t let me stop you.”
“Fine. More for me,” Treble said as he pushed himself off the bar.
Lindy sipped her second ginger ale that she’d specifically asked the bartender to make for all her orders. She was here for her sister Bridget’s bachelorette party and while she made the promise to Bridget that she’d loosen up and have some fun, she was finding it difficult to do so in her usual responsible way.
And while she loved her sister, they were as different as two people could be. Bridget pretended to be the good girl around their parents, but compared to Lindy, she was wild and carefree. Three years older than Lindy, Bridget had skated through college, putting forth only minimal effort, more interested in hooking up or attending parties than actually doing the work.
Lindy snickered to herself as she watched Bridget poke the side of her mouth with her tongue as she pumped her fist near her lips, simulating a cock in her mouth, making the other girls shriek in laughter. She didn’t have any regrets about her life, and she would die before she admitted it to anyone, but she was a bit jealous of her older sister. Bridget attracted men like bees to honey, drawn to her by her vivacious personality and heart stopping looks. There was no mistaking the family resemblance between them, but Bridget had a way of standing and moving that drove men wild. If she could have just a drop of that Bridget Willis magic, she wouldn’t complain.
That certain something had won Bridget the heart of Terrance Lewis. Kind, soft-spoken and devastatingly handsome, Terry was a dream beau. He was interning at Levin Children’s Hospital as an eye surgeon, and he was clearly head over heels for Bridget. She smiled again, remembering how beautiful Bridget was in her wedding dress. Two weeks from tomorrow Bridget would be married and off on a two-week long honeymoon in Italy.
Lindy grinned again.
Jealous? What is there to be jealous of?
“Buy you another?”
The voice brought Lindy out of her own thoughts. It was one of the two bikers that had walked in. This one had his arms covered in tattoos. He was damn good looking, with a strong jaw and intense eyes, and he radiated danger and sex. She took a step back to watch the show.
“What?” Lindy asked, totally shocked that he was with her when there were others less than a step away.
“I asked if I could buy you another drink.”
She glanced at Bridget and couldn’t help but smile at her near slack jaw amazement. “Uh… sure.”
“Name’s Treble,” he said taking her glass from her hand.
“Treble or trouble?” she asked, not sure she understood.
“I guess that depends on you.”
She grinned and looked down, a little embarrassed that he was so forward. “I’m not looking for trouble.”
“I guess it’s good I’m Treble, then. Treble J…Jack Jacob Jefferson.”
He was clearly waiting for her to respond. “Linda Willis.”
“Nice to meet you, Linda,” he said as he waved the waitress over. “What are you drinking?”
“Tequila. Tell Jerry it’s for Lindy,” she said to the waitress.
“Make it two…So what are you and your friends doing here?” Treble asked as the waitress moved off.
“I might ask you the same.”
“Me and my man Stiles over there are trying someplace new. He got tired of me whipping his ass in pool.” Treble grinned.
“My sister is getting married. We’re celebrating.”
“That your sister?” he asked with a nod of his head.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Anybody going to try to beat the shit out of me if I ask you out?”
Lindy giggled. “My, you are the bold one.”
Treble picked the two glasses off the tray and hand one to Lindy. “I’m just asking.”
Lindy hesitated then took the offered drink. There was no way to easily tell the difference between the two glasses. The moment she took it, he raised his glass then paused, waiting for her to do the same. Mentally crossing her fingers, she brought the glass to her lips…then the smell hit her.
“I think you have mine.”
“You have my drink.”
He looked at her in confusion until he tasted it. “What the hell?”
She sighed. “You got me.”
“Yeah,” he switched glasses with her. “Have a drink with me. A real one.”
Lindy smiled. “One. But we have to drink to my sister Bridget’s marriage. I promised her that.”
“Works for me.” He snapped his fingers and waved the waitress over. “Two more, and make Lindy’s real this time.”
The waitress looked at Lindy and she nodded.
When the drinks returned he handed her one of the drinks, then stood up. “To Bridget…”
“Willis,” Lindy hissed when he paused.
“…Wills. May you fall in love again and again…always with the same person.” As everyone cheered and drank, he grinned at Lindy. “Well?”
It took her a moment after the toast, the tequila stealing her voice. “Not bad, but what’s up with your friend?”
“What?” he asked as he looked across the bar, but then returned his attention to Lindy. “I don’t know. Something has been bugging him for a while now, but he won’t tell me what it is.”
“More of that macho male bullshit.”
“Hey! We have our soft sides. How about that toast? Doesn’t that just make you want to hug me?”
Lindy giggled. For a big, badass, tatted up biker, Treble had a surprising amount of charming, and it didn’t hurt that he was paying an enormous amount of attention to her, almost to exclusion of the others.
“Maybe,” she allowed. When he caught the waitress’s eye he held up two fingers. “No more for me.”
“Come on…” he drawled out. “It’s a party for your sister. One more isn’t going to hurt you.”
“I have to drive home.”
“I’ll call you a cab.”
“You’re not going to offer to take me home?” she asked, then blushed. One shot of tequila shouldn’t loosen her up that much.
The alcohol was snaking through her veins and boldness seized Lindy. Her lips curved into a coy smirk “I don’t know. Should you?”
He stepped closer and his scent tumbled down as his dark eyes bore into hers. “Well…the night is still young. Let me know when you’ve made up your mind.”
Staring up into those dark eyes, Lindy felt her defenses being peeled away. Gone was that carefully cultivated reserve she wore like a shield. In its place, a bubbly and vibrant personality had emerged.
She raised her hand. “Take me home.” She was tired of Bridget having all the fun and Treble was one
looking piece of man meat. Normally she didn’t go for the bad-boy look, but she enjoyed the
out of the envious looks the rest of the women gave her as he took her hand and walked her outside.
“I’m in no shape to drive, that’s for sure,” she slurred.
“Who said you’re driving?”
She giggled and leaned in closer. “
I bet you’re over the limit.”
“What do I get for winning the bet?” he grinned.
She thought about it a moment, and finally said. “Me.”
He leaned down and slowly pulled her in, offering his lips but making it clear the choice was hers. After a moment she met his lips as she melted into him.
She pulled back from the kiss and stared into his eyes. He smiled down at her, a self-satisfied grin both turned her on and annoyed her at the same time. He slid his arm around her and walked her to a parked Harley. She hesitated as he mounted up and held out a helmet for her.
“Nervous?” he asked.
“Don’t be,” he kicked the bike to life.
Startled, Lindy grabbed the helmet from his hand and put it on her head. The grin on his face spread wider as he helped adjust the straps for her.
When the helmet was tight she swung a leg over the seat and said. “Not my place. Yours.”
“Sounds good. Don’t let go.” He said as he eased the clutch out, and pulled away into the warm night.