Pack Challenge (11 page)

“Is it me or are a lot of these females mammoth size?” Miki muttered, almost to herself. Almost. Clearly the two women heard her as they turned and glared.

“Two waters.” Sara spoke quickly hoping she could avoid one of those fights caused by Miki’s big mouth.

One of the women moved over to them and looked at Sara. Looked at her hard for several long seconds.
Uh-oh, I am going to have to fight.

Fuckin’ Miki!
Sara clenched her hand into a tight fist, ready to use it if necessary, as she closely watched the woman reach under the fold-out table and grab two waters and hand them over.

Sara, releasing a breath, went to pull cash out of her back pocket but the woman stopped her. “Take it. No charge.” Sara looked at the sign clearly listing water bottle prices. And the tiny bottles she held were five dollars each. This was getting weird.

“Why?”

“Take the water and go.” Without another word, the woman returned to her friend.

“What the hell—”

“Hi.” Sara and Miki discovered Miki’s big blond stalker standing next to them. He nodded at Sara but smiled at Miki.

“Hi,” Sara answered. “Nice
little
party.”

“Thanks. Name’s Conall.” It was like Sara and the other three hundred people weren’t even there.”

Miki blinked. “Great.”

It was, in fact, physically painful to watch Miki and Conall stand there, with absolutely no idea what to say next.

“Well…” Miki glanced at Sara, and Sara let her know with one look she was on her own. Mostly because she found the whole thing funny as hell…and cute. Very cute.

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Shelly Laurenston

Glaring at Sara, Miki decided to make a break for it. “Bye.” Miki took her bottle of water and walked off.

Sara’s head tilted to the side as she watched the dejected expression on Conall’s face. Nope, she simply couldn’t help herself. “Well, don’t just stand there. Go get her.”

Conall sighed. “I think she hates me.”

“Are you kidding? She really likes you. She’s just shy.”

“Really?” With that, he disappeared into the crowd, searching for the elusive Miki.

Sara let out a laugh as she realized Miki would make her pay dearly for this tomorrow.

“Having a good time fuckin’ with my friend?” Or she may be paying for it a lot sooner.

He was behind her, his hot breath in her ear, as he leaned into her.

He didn’t touch her, but her entire body was on fire wanting him to touch her.

“I didn’t…” She couldn’t even finish her sentence.
This is getting
ridiculous!
She forced her body to move away from him. “Look, I don’t have to explain myself to you,” she snapped and turned to face him.

Great. The sleeveless Harley T-shirt he wore, revealing extremely large tanned muscular arms sporting tattoos on both triceps and his left forearm, so did not help her composure. She did always have a thing for guys with tattoos. “And I’m sure your sturdy friend there can take care of himself.”

“Against
her
? Are you kidding? That girl’s mean as a snake.”

“No, she’s—don’t talk about my friends.”

“Don’t mess with mine.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

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Pack Challenge

The two stood staring at each other, and Sara didn’t know whether to punch him in the stomach or lick the black tribal tattoo on his right shoulder.

In order to avoid both, she turned and walked away. She’d gotten several feet when she realized he was walking beside her. She stopped.

“What?”

“I didn’t say a word.”

Sara took several more steps but realized he was still there with her.

She stopped again, this time turning to face him. “What are you doing?”

“Living life to its fullest.”

Sara’s eyes narrowed. “Go away.”

“Why?” Zach leaned into her, but still didn’t touch her. “Do I make you nervous?”

She snorted. “Please. I’ve known tougher gangs than you people.” She started walking again, but stopped short when she realized he was no longer walking with her. It was what she had asked for but she didn’t expect him to actually listen. She looked back at him. “What?”

“Well,” he stated softly as he slowly moved toward her, his muscles rippling.
Godammit!
Those rippling muscles were driving her absolutely crazy. “At first, I stopped because I didn’t know why you were calling me a gang member. Then I was just watching your ass move in that skirt.

That pretty much kept me rooted to the spot.” Sara rubbed her nose to hide a smile. “Sorry I insulted you. Do you prefer Motorcycle Club?”

“You do know that we’re not some kind of biker gang, right?” Of course they were. How could they not be? Groups of grown adults in black leather didn’t move around in packs, living together and throwing wild raves if they weren’t a gang.

“We just like to ride. We like the freedom.”

“Then you guys are…”

“Business partners. We own and operate a bunch of clubs.”

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Shelly Laurenston

“Really?” Sara took a sip of her water as Zach dug into the back pocket of his jeans. She would love to dig into the back pocket of his jeans herself.

Jesus, girl! Get a grip
.

“Here.” He handed her a business card. It was on high-quality card stock and the letters were embossed, but all it had was his name and a cell phone number.

Sara held the card up. “And?”

“Only reputable business people have business cards.” Sara loved his sarcasm. It was so ridiculous. “And the Hells Angels have their own Web sites. They sell T-shirts.” Sara started walking again.

Her leg began to tighten up, but she desperately hoped she could walk the pain off. She didn’t want the night to end. She was, as much as she hated to admit it, having a great time with Zach.

He was a fun idiot.

Still she had yet to figure out why this guy was spending any time with her. There were women around this place who would drop to their knees at just a wink from him. She watched them watch him. And yet he seemed to be ignoring them completely. Ignoring them for
her
. She wondered what he was up to. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye.
Dammit, what is he thinking?

I’d give my eye teeth to have this woman sitting on my face right now.

“Pole.”

“What?”

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Pack Challenge

“You’re about to walk into a…” Zach walked face first into a pole between two booths. “…pole.”

Zach took a step back and grabbed his forehead. “Motherfucker!”

“Don’t be a whiner.” Sara turned him so he faced her, pulling his hands down from his face. “Here. Let me see.” Using the tips of her fingers on his expansive shoulders, she lowered him so she could examine his head. “I don’t even think you’ll have a bruise.”

“Will you nurse me back to health if it’s a concussion?” Sara smiled, even as her entire body tightened at his husky whisper.

“No. I’ll leave you alone. Naked. Food for the wolves.”

“Naked, huh?”

“Therapy.” She pushed him away or, at the very least, tried. “For many, like you, it’s a viable option.” She walked past him, hoping he didn’t hear her voice catch, or see that her nipples were burrowing a hole through her tank top.

Zach was doing his best to keep some semblance of self-control around Sara. But she wasn’t making it easy on him. Letting him walk into poles. Touching his shoulders. Using the word “naked”.

And the woman was completely oblivious to the hold she had over him. She watched everyone but him. Constantly scanning the crowd, prepared for any sign of trouble. He realized while her friends partied and danced she watched their backs and her own.

What an amazing female. The perfect wolf. The perfect mate.

Zach slapped the back of his neck to stop the treacherous errant thought. Sara looked up, startled.

“Mosquito,” he offered to her unasked question.

She blinked. “Bet he’s really dead now.”

“You know, we should go out some time. Like a date or something.”

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Shelly Laurenston

Sara stopped. “So, let me guess. Is this ‘get the townie into bed’ or do you and your buddies have a bet about who can nail the cripple?” Zach turned and gazed at her. Simply stared. But when that big grin spread across his face, Sara didn’t know whether to run or just scream for help. “You are one mean bitch.”

He didn’t say it with any malice. In fact, he sounded kind of…turned on. Sara took a step back. He took a step toward her. “I
do
make you nervous.”

“Bullshit.” Well, at least she sounded like she meant that.

Zach’s hand reached for her shoulder. Sara stood her ground even though she felt like high-tailing it out of there and heading home to her nice boring house. His fingers went to the Celtic tattoo on her shoulder, tracing the design with his forefinger. She felt her throat get dry and her pussy wet.

“You know,” his voice was low, like a caress across her skin, “you are an amazing piece of work.”

She raised an eyebrow. “I’m a bitch. I know it and I’ve learned to accept that flaw in my character.”

“Sounds like you embrace it.”

“And if I do, what do you care?”

Zach’s fingers slid past her tattoo and up to her throat. She fought the urge to flinch, thinking he was going to touch the scarred part of her face. She’d never let anyone that close to her. Not her friends. Not her ex-boyfriends—nobody. And she wasn’t about to let Zach get that close either. Besides, she was feeling that desire again. That desire to lick his tattoo or punch him in the stomach.

“Nice hat, by the way,” he muttered softly.

So, it was going to be the punch in the stomach. Good. That she could handle.

Then Sara dropped to one knee, the sudden flaring pain in her leg nearly blinding her. Nearly as bad as what had hit her in front of her

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Pack Challenge

house, she gasped for air, trying not to scream. Trying not to die merely from the pain alone.

But this was Texas. Someone must have a gun here. Surely they could shoot her in the head, put her out of her misery. She wanted to yell, “Somebody kill me!” But instead she gritted her teeth against just screaming wildly.

Then she felt strong arms wrap around her and a deep voice in her ear. “Hold on. I got ya.”

“Get. Off. Me.”

She heard him chuckle. “Get the fuck over it.” One minute she looked like she was about to punch him in the face—

he knew that hat comment would get her—looking more and more aroused the more he touched her. Then she dropped, biting back a scream of pure pain. Before Zach knew it, he was lifting her off the ground and taking her away as quickly as possible. He saw the others watching her. Smelling her weakness. Hearing the cry of pain she was desperately—admirably—trying to stifle.

He took her away from the rave and into the woods he and Conall had just been hunting in a few hours before. They’d found a small shack that had been deserted for what looked to be decades and it would give her some time to get over the pain and get her strength back. He would be there in case she needed some medical attention or something. He was just going to be there as her babysitter. Just what Yates asked him to do. Nothing more.

Yeah, right.

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Shelly Laurenston

Sara felt herself lowered onto something hard and sturdy. She opened her eyes, easy enough now that the pain had begun to subside, and looked around what appeared to be a less-than-pleasing shack.

At least this time I didn’t pass out.

“Where the hell am I?”

Zach lit a lantern someone left behind. “Feeling better?” Sara glanced down at the dirty, dust-covered cabinet she sat on.

“Nice digs.”

“Well, you know, we try.” Zach stood in front of her. “So, feel better or what?”

Wow, the man simply radiated warmth and charm. “Much better thank you. I’m ready to go back.”

“No,” he stated simply.

Yup, she still wanted to punch him in the face.

“Does the pain get like that a lot?”

Sara shrugged casually. “No. Not really.” He knew she was lying. She saw it on his handsome face. The way those hazel eyes slowly rose to meet hers. The little half-smirk on his lips and the slightly raised eyebrows.

“Look it didn’t used to, but lately…” Sara had to stop because she’d begun to cry.

For months, she’d been fighting the pain and terror all on her own, not even telling Miki and Angelina. She knew her friends well enough to know they’d worry—and drive her crazy in the process. Besides, they’d

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Pack Challenge

insist she go into the hospital. Lynette had always warned her, “Hospitals only kill ya.” And, except for the constant pain, she’d been remarkably healthy her entire life. What exactly where they going to do for her now, after all these years? So she’d decided to continue living with the pain, and had. Quite successfully, in fact. Until the last few months when everything went from bad to worse.

Sara buried her face in her hands and quietly wept for several long moments…until he touched her. Not on the shoulder or her knee. He touched her scar. Problem was she had successfully hidden it under her skirt. Her sexy slit wasn’t even on that side.

With a growl, Sara’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist before it could move further up her leg. The rough tips of his fingers dragging lightly across her scar didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt at all. Instead, it felt damn amazing.

“What the hell?” she barked, trying to ignore the sudden burning desire she had to get this man naked.

“I needed you to stop feeling sorry for yourself. Only thing I could think of.” She tried to push his arm away, but it was like steel and it wasn’t moving. Didn’t help he was smiling at her either. And that he had the sweetest smile she’d ever seen. She wanted to slap that smile right off his face.
Smug prick
.

“You know, it’s amazing you lasted this long. After what you’ve been through.”

“You being a smart ass?”

“If I were being a smart ass I’d say something else about your hat.” Sara tore the hat off her head. “
Happy now
?”