One Night in the Outlaw's Bed (4 page)

Chapter Three

Maggie was far too drunk to drive, but Mora had only
had a little and was fine. But after what had happened back at the bar Maggie
was surprised her friend could even concentrate on the road. Mora was driving
under the speed limit and on her way to Maggie’s house, but she knew it wasn’t
because she tried to go under the radar of the local PD, but because she was
just as stunned as Maggie at the fact Diesel had almost beat one of his club
members’ asses over
her
.

“That did just happen back there, right?” Mora
asked, but kept her focus on the road. She kept tightening and loosening her
hands on the steering wheel. Maggie swallowed, trying to gather enough saliva
to make her closed-off and parched throat less painful.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it did.”

God, why did she have to drink so much? She saw Mora
look at her through the corner of her eye. Maggie shifted on the seat so she
was staring at her friend. They stared at each other for only a second, and
then Mora looked back at the road.

“Diesel almost kicked that guy’s ass because of you,
but why?” There wasn’t any malice in Mora’s voice, just clear confusion.

Maggie felt the same way. “I don’t know. I mean I
know him and the club because of my dad, and have seen him while growing up,
but aside from talking to him a few times at the shop he stayed away from me.”
She rubbed her hands on her thighs and breathed out. “I couldn’t hear what they
were saying aside from Diesel pointing at me and saying my name in that angry,
growly voice of his.” They were both quiet for several long seconds.

Mora pulled the car onto Maggie’s father’s street
and parked at the curb. She left the car idling, but neither moved. “What are
you going to do about that?” Mora turned and faced her.

“What do you mean? What am I supposed to do about
it?” Why were her hands so
sweaty,
and why was her
heart still pounding a mile a minute?

 
Mora
shrugged, turned and then looked out the windshield for a second, and turned
her attention back on Maggie. “Shit, I don’t know. But you walked up to him,
touched him on the arm like he didn’t scare the piss out of you like everyone
else, and he just stopped.” Mora lifted her hand and snapped her finger in
front of Maggie’s face. “I mean, Maggie, it was like your touch just stopped
the fight.”

Yeah, Maggie had no clue why she had walked up to
him and gotten between them. And when he had faced her and she had seen that
his normally blue eyes were swallowed up by the darkness of his pupils, she had
known that what she was looking at was more animal than man at that moment.

“I don’t know, Mora. Something just came over me,
and before I knew it I was standing right next to him and had my hand on his
arm.” Even now she could feel the tingling in her palm and fingers at where she
had touched his hard, hot, bare flesh. She curled her fingers into her palm and
set her hand on her thigh. “Maybe it was the fact I drank way too much alcohol
and had balls of steel.” She glanced at Mora, but her friend had her attention
focused in front of her once more.

“I’ll tell you this,
Maggie,
I have never seen a guy look at a woman the way Diesel looked at you.”

“What do you mean? He didn’t look at me any way.”
But that was a lie, because there had been this feeling she got when Diesel had
looked right at her, and she just couldn’t ignore the way this spark had
traveled up her arm when she had touched him.

Mora looked at her again. “Like the way a man looks
at a woman he wants to possess. Maggie, that biker was staring at you like you
were his.” Mora licked her lips and leaned back in the seat. “Yeah, that was
exactly what it was. Hell, I think he was more bear at that moment than human.
He wanted you, no doubt about it. It was like you stopped a derailed train with
only a touch.”

“That’s crazy, Mora.” The words came from Maggie in
a harsh whisper. Shouldn’t she be excited that Mora was saying the man Maggie
had wanted for years reciprocated those feelings? Yes and no, because the way
Diesel had looked at her was so intense, so powerful, that she had felt it
consume her as if a fire was inside of her, intent on drowning her alive in
flames.

“Yeah, it really fucking is.”

Maggie snapped her head up and looked at her friend,
only just realizing that she had been looking at the hand that had touched
Diesel’s arm.

“But I want to know why you were the one to start
the fight—in so many ways—and what exactly you plan on doing about it.”

Maggie didn’t say anything for several seconds. “I’m
not going to do anything about it, Mora.”

“Well, I can tell you this, I don’t think a man like
Diesel is just going to walk away from you.”

Maggie’s heart pounded fast and fierce at those
words.

“That’s crazy. The man hasn’t said anything to me
that didn’t have to do with buying parts for Harleys. And you’re trying to say
he thinks he has some kind of claim on me after he sees me for the first time
in five years?” That whole thing sounded ludicrous and ridiculous, and Maggie
wasn’t about to dwell on it any more. Yeah, she wanted Diesel, but she didn’t
want crazy. “He was just drunk, just like the other biker. That was all. For
all I know they were talking about my dad, my name got thrown in there, and the
liquor took care of the rest.”

Mora was still staring at her, but hadn’t responded.
She tightened her hold on the handle of her purse. “Maybe you’re right,” said
Mora.

Maggie breathed out. Yeah, that was all it had been,
because anything else didn’t make sense. “I hope that you’re right, because I
don’t think anything short of a bullet to the head can stop a guy like Diesel from
coming after what he wants.”

Maggie nodded, but didn’t say anything. She didn’t
know what to say. The night had gone from her admiring him from across the bar,
to her watching as he took on this very scary demeanor, and looked seconds away
from kicking that other guy’s ass.

“Okay, well, I better get in before my dad wakes up
and realize I’m as drunk as I really am.”

Mora smiled, but the look on her face told Maggie
that her friend was still thinking about what happened back at the bar. Maggie
climbed out, leaned down to wave at Mora through the closed window, and turned
to head to the front door. When she had the door unlocked and closed behind
her, she leaned against it and breathed out roughly. It was surreal the way the
night ended, and honestly, if Mora hadn’t pulled her out of there she didn’t
know if she would have left. Honestly, Maggie might still be standing right in
front of him, letting him do whatever he wanted to her. That intensity that
poured from him as he stood only inches from her had been like a blast from a
furnace, and Maggie wanted to feel more of it.

She pushed off the door and went into the kitchen
for a glass of water and some ibuprofen. She knew tomorrow was going to be
horrible in the hangover department, but for how drunk she was, she was
strangely coherent enough to remember every little detail of how Diesel had
looked when he had stared at her. But no longer in his presence and breathing
in those dark pheromones, the alcohol that had taken a backseat to her stunned
arousal and confusion was now back full force, and her stomach turned. She
should eat something, preferably loaded with carbs and fat to combat the booze
in her, but just thinking about eating anything had nausea settling heavily
inside of her.

Instead she sat at the table, rested her head in her
hands, and breathed out. This was the most intense experience she had had since
living in Steel Corner, and how sad was that?

****

Diesel stood in the center of the circle formed by
all the men that had come to watch a dirty fight. There was a good mix of
humans and shifter spectators, but Diesel was focused on his opponent. The
tiger shifter stood just as nude as he was, but there was nothing sexual about
what was about to happen. When they got the all clear they would shift and
start this fight. Diesel needed this desperately, needed to burn off the
residual rage that he still felt for the shit Dallas had spouted off. He also
really needed to get rid of this need to have Maggie that pumped through his
veins. She had looked up at him with a hint of fear, and although he was a
violent, scary asshole, she had nothing to be afraid of from him.

“We got a special treat tonight. A member of the
Grizzly MC is in the fight to face off with a tiger,” the announcer said, and
there was a loud roar of cheers.

Diesel kept his attention on the male in front of
him. He wasn’t as tall as Diesel, but he had a stockier build. He was also
sporting several bruises and cuts on his body, which told him that he liked to
fight. Diesel cracked his knuckles, rolled his head around his neck, and
stretched his arms. He was ready to kick some ass, knock this fucker’s teeth in,
and have the blood coat the dirty floor beneath their feet. There wasn’t a bell
that started the fight. They just knew when it was time to go after one
another, and that time was now.

Both shifted at the same time and went after one
another. Diesel’s bear rose up to its full ten foot height, and he easily had
hundreds of pounds on the tiger, but the other male was smaller, quicker, and
could attack before Diesel knew it was coming. But although the tiger might be
swift on its feet, Diesel had a lot of anger powering his actions right now.
The tiger moved to the side right when Diesel swiped a paw out. He turned and
roared out when the tiger sank his claws into Diesel’s arm. They moved back and
forth for several seconds, and Diesel reached out again and knocked the tiger
back a few feet. The spectators moved back to give them more room and to keep
out of the violence. Diesel went after the other male before he got back on his
feet and opened his jaws wide. He roared out loud enough to make the wood all
around them shake, and leaned down to sink his teeth into the tiger’s side. He
growled and hissed out, and the tiger dragged his claws down his neck hard
enough that Diesel felt the flesh open up under his fur. But he loved the pain,
revealed in it, and wanted more.

The tiger managed to move enough that Diesel fell
forward, but he anticipated the quick movement from the cat. He twisted to the
side, wrapped his paws around the feline’s neck, and sank his incisors into the
tiger’s side. He roared out in pain, and the tangy, metallic flavor of the
cat’s blood filled Diesel’s mouth. He tore away from the tiger, took several
steps back, and huffed out. He waited for the tiger to come back for more, but
the other male lay on the ground panting as blood pooled around. After a couple
of seconds Diesel shifted back to his human form. There were a few guys that
groaned as they had bet against Diesel, but the rest roared out and started
exchanging money. Sticks went around and collected the cash, and walked up to him.

“Good fight, man.” Sticks slapped a thick wad of
cash in his hand.

Diesel looked down at it. There were a few
guys—tiger shifters as well and presumably the friends of the shifter currently
bleeding heavily on the floor—that walked up and lifted his body off the ground
and hauled his ass out of the barn.

“You should fight more often, D. You could bring
home a lot of extra cash for taking down guys like that.”

Diesel shook his head. “Nah, this was a night I had
to let my bear out to burn off some fierce energy.”

Stinger stepped up to him and tossed Diesel a towel.
He started wiping the sweat and blood off his body and applied some pressure to
his neck. It hurt like a motherfucker, but a little pain made him stronger.

“What about you, Stinger? You want some extra cash
and to beat a few guys’ skulls in?”

Stinger had a joint between his lips and inhaled
before pulling it out and blowing the smoke in Sticks’ face. “I’m not into the
whole spectator shit. When I fight I want to do it in a back alley where I can
crack a skull against a brick wall.”

Sticks was
human, but he was also a hard-ass and didn’t take shit from anyone. Running and
being the main organizer or these fights required the man be tough as nails,
and he was for a human. But he was also dealing with shifters, and it was smart
when Sticks took a step back and nodded.

“Yeah, Stinger.
Just thought I’d throw the offer out there.”
There was
a decrease in the volume in the room, but Diesel was busy walking over to the
corner where he had stashed his clothes. He started putting them on, and when
he shoved his arms through his cut and smoothed the leather across his chest he
noticed movement by the double doors toward the front. Stinger was leaning
against the wall smoking on his joint, but his attention was at the front as
well. Four big fuckers walked through the crowd, and instantly Diesel could
tell they were human. But they were huge for humans, easily as big as he and
the other members of the Grizzly MC were. They wore cuts as well, and the one
at the front wore the patch that stated he was the president. He glanced at
Diesel, eyed his cut up and down, and smirked. Diesel let out a low growl, but
instead of having the human show fear, it had the bastard smirking bigger.