Sweet Perdition (2 page)

Jesus.
He hadn’t had a piece of ass in a couple of weeks. Too busy with club business. Maybe he’d gone soft, sitting here chatting up a piece of tail, admiring her conversational skills instead of her ample assets.

“Whatever you say,
Pinky.
For what it’s worth? I think he’s a dipshit for marrying her, when he could have had you.”

“Thank you. I suppose he
is
a dipshit,” she said thoughtfully.

She plunked a manicured fingertip in her empty glass and then licked the digit clean with her pink tongue while he watched. Fascinated. Of course, he wanted to see her lick other, larger objects. Starting with his dick. It felt like a red hot poker in his jeans, thanks to her unintended cockteasing.

“And Pinky?” he told her, because she hadn’t asked. “I’m Ryker.”

“Your name is Ryker? Seriously?!”

Despite himself, he liked her, even tipsy and sad, she had sass. “No, it’s a road name. He’s one of the Star Trek guys.” He thrust his chest out. “My brothers call me Ryker because I go where no man’s gone before.”

She blinked.

“I throw the first punch in a fight.” He liked to fire the first shot, too. He made it a point to be the first one to do a lot of things. For instance, he loved to try out every new hellion who walked in the door. But he doubted the info would endear him to her.

She didn’t even seem impressed with his road name. “I get it, but what’s your first name?”

“I don’t use it.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “It’s a road rule. Don't use your real name, don't touch another man's bike, and… most importantly… don't
ever
mess with a brother's old lady,” he rattled off, to make his point.

She frowned. “Old lady?”

“His girlfriend or wife.”

He downed his whiskey and slapped the glass on the table. “What do you say we play a game of pool?” He hoped the activity would sober her up a bit, get her out of this funk. He didn’t want to get too much alcohol in her or she’d pass out and he wouldn’t get to have any fun.

And she seemed like
a lot
of fun.

She peered over his shoulder, eyeing the pool table with interest. “Cool table.”

He grinned. “Thanks.” The club had it custom made. A converted black Trans Am served as the base of the pool table, complete with tires and the chrome accessories on the hood. Though, the top had been covered in red felt. In short, far too expensive and bad ass as they come, but a pool table worthy of the Four Horsemen motorcycle club.

She had an evil gleam in her bright blue eyes. “Would we be playing just for fun?”

“No fun if somethin’ isn’t on the line. Life is all about risk. But if you are afraid to part with your money, I could think of something else we could wager for.”

She bit her lower lip. “Like what?”

He pretended to think about it, but he had a clear path to seduction in mind. “Well, if I win, you give me a kiss.”

A protest flared in her eyes and she paused long enough to make him almost back off, but she finally dipped her head in agreement. “Okay, fine.”

While not exactly enthusiastic, she didn’t seem totally put off by the idea. Good. Now they were getting somewhere. Once she kissed him, the battle would be nearly won. He could be an Olympian when it came to kissing, according to the ladies.

"And if I win, I want a ride on your motorcycle." She lifted her chin as if daring him to say no.

“You know you aren’t supposed to ask for a ride, aren’t you? One of those road rules again.”

She didn’t stand a chance in hell. He played pool all the time and he’d fleeced most of his brothers. This would be a case of taking candy from a babe and he wanted all her sweets.

She rolled her eyes. “So what's it gonna be, big bad biker man? Are you giving me a ride or what?”

Oh, he planned on giving her a ride all right.

“Abso-fucking-lutely, sweet cheeks. Let’s get this show started.” He followed her over to the table, loving the way her hips swayed.

She seemed intent, circling the table and studying it.
Hmm.
She might not be as drunk as he thought.

He pulled two pool cues from the holder on the wall, and handed her one before he racked the balls. “I’m solids, you're stripes,” he said.

She chalked the end of her cue. “Ladies first, right?”

“Be my guest.” He’d let her get a shot in before he finished off the table and kissed her senseless.

She broke the balls up and then prowled around, holding her pool cue at the ready. Then she proceeded to sink them into the pockets, moving with precision. She even winked at him as she made a shot in case he didn’t get the picture.

He had been hustled.

Damn.
Schooled in front of his brothers and by a girl, no less.

A low whistle made him turn to see his brother, Shepherd, approach watching her work the table with wide, approving eyes. He had his camera phone on, recording the event for posterity’s sake in case any of the guy’s had missed it. He had no doubt the video would make the rounds through the club tonight.
Fuck.

“Way to go, sweetheart!” Shep called to her. “You keep this up and I'll buy you a beer."

“Don’t you have any place else to be?” he drawled.

“Nope.” The other man shook his head. "What's a matter, bro? Embarrassed a chick handed you your own ass?"

He dragged Shepherd over near the jukebox, so she wouldn’t hear them. “Speaking of Pool Shark Barbie, don’t go near her,” he bit out, staring at the other man with his patented screw-with-me-and-die face. “There will be no buying of beers, no touching, and no more goddamn wolf whistles. Got it?”

“Well, aren’t we testy tonight?” Shep, just to be a real dickhead, took a long drag on his menthol cigarette, seemingly bored. “What’s so special about this chick?”

“Not sayin’ she’s something special, brother, but I don’t like sloppy seconds.” Call it a kink, but Ryker felt like fucking a good girl. Find yourself a hellion if you want to get laid, there is plenty of free-range pussy around this place.”

Speaking of hellions, he’d gotten lucky she’d wandered into the bar before things got into full swing. She would have bolted if she’d seen one of the chicks crawling beneath a table to give a blowjob. They usually tried to keep all the action in the back, but, what can you do? Shit happens.

Clubs like theirs attracted a lot of hangers on. Women who liked bad boys. He never learned their names or gave them much thought after he fucked one of them.

Meanwhile, she had polished off the rest of the striped balls and stood staring at him, cue in hand, with a gleaming white sharky smile. She twirled the stick through her fingers like a six shooter before she tucked it back in the wall holder.

Then, she waltzed over to both of them. “That was bracing. I think I sobered up.” She nodded to Shepherd. “Who’s your friend?”

“This is Shepherd. He’s my brother, and he’s just about to leave.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Elizabeth.” Her brow puckered as she held out her hand.

Shepherd shook it and Ryker clenched his fists, forcing himself not to slap his brother’s hand away. Evidently, Shep had read the question on her face. “Not his real brother, sweetheart. I’m another member of the MC.”

“What did I just say? Keep your god damn hands to yourself.” He growled, clapping the other man on the back hard enough to make him cough. “Go annoy someone else.”

With a nod to the lady, Shepherd ambled off.

“You’re some sort of ringer, huh?” he said.

“Hey,
I
didn't goad
you
into the game.”

“Call ‘em like I see ‘em.”

She grinned. “Can’t help it. In college, I lived off the third floor lounge and we had this huge pool table. I used to scam frat boys for quarters all the time. I didn’t pay for laundry my entire senior year,” she said proudly.

So, she had been a college girl. She gave off a smarty pants vibe. “I guess I owe you a ride, then. Fair and square. Are you going to collect your winnings tonight?”

She nearly gave him his own words back. “Abso-freaking-lutely, sweet cheeks.”

Be still my fuckin’ heart. She didn’t even drop the F bomb.

“
Get your gear, hustler.”

Chapter Two

What am I doing?

Elizabeth wondered for the umpteenth time tonight as she followed Ryker to his bike in the parking lot. She was a librarian for pity’s sake. She should know better. Librarians and bikers really don’t mix. But she’d been out of her mind when she left the wedding, speeding down the road like a maniac, crying and swerving.

She should have bypassed Perdition and found a nice, safe Applebee’s and ordered a margarita the size of her head, maybe a plate of spinach dip. She could have drowned her sorrows in tequila, carbs, and cheese and then gone home with a full belly and a buzz.

That
would have been the smart choice.

Yet always doing the right thing didn’t seem to be working out either. Tonight, while watching Carl and Lisa on the dance floor together, she’d had an epiphany of sorts. Being a good girl all the time had gotten her exactly bupkiss. She led a boring life. She went to work at noon, came home around nine, and then made dinner. Rinse and repeat. She filled her time with mundane chores like laundry, taking out the trash, and dishes. A wild night would be going to the Bloody Hell Tea Room in town, maybe ordering a scone with some lemon curd.

Not exactly exciting.

She should live a little. Something had to change or she’d end up with a houseful of cats, sitting in a rocker on the front porch. Okay, so maybe she’d played one too many hands of Old Maid as a kid, but still? She could do with a bit of a shakeup in her life.

On impulse, she’d decided to do something daring. So she’d stopped in for a beer with notorious bikers. And now she’d agreed to go on a midnight ride with one. Her hormones seemed to be in control tonight, which promised more excitement than she’d had in years.

She hadn’t dated, or even slept with anyone but Carl and the last time they’d made love had been two long years ago.

While she’d been very attracted to Carl, he didn’t exactly rock her world. The sex had been fine, pleasant even. Sometimes pleasurable. But something had always been missing. It wasn’t like anything she’d ever read in a romance novel. She’d expected fireworks, breathless, writhing need.

But Ryker? He made her feel things she hadn’t ever felt before. Just watching the predatory way he stalked through the parking lot turned her on. He made her stomach flip over and twist itself into little bitty knots. And she’d convinced herself that sort of crazy longing could only be found in her beloved books.

Ryker was hot on an epic scale.

He had big blue eyes and coal black hair she wanted to run her fingers through. And his abs? Judging by the way his tight shirt clung to his muscled torso? She bet you could grate cheese on them.

She had to admit the view from the back was just as good. He filled out a pair of tattered blue jeans better than any Calvin Klein model. Peeking beneath his shirt, she glimpsed the club’s logo on his bicep, mirroring the one on his back. On the other arm, he had tattoos of grim, hooded figures on horseback.

While she followed him, she got a chance to examine his worn leather vest. An angry stallion in the center, with
Four Horsemen
along the top. On the bottom of the vest, a
Texas
patch. Right below it, another patch, which said
Phoenix Chapter
. Odd, since last time she checked, Phoenix was in Arizona, but whatever.

Everyone in town knew the Four Horsemen. They blazed around on Harleys wearing leather and not taking crap from anyone, which didn’t exactly lend itself to blending in. The club was the subject of town gossip and rumors. She’d heard all sorts of wild stories! Like they cooked meth, or they owned brothels in Vegas, or they ran an illegal gambling operation. No one knew exactly how much truth lay in any of the rumors, but everyone in Hell loved to speculate. You might call it the town hobby.

They stopped in front of a sleek bike with red and white accents, from what she could see in the meager light provided by the bar’s red neon sign. The club’s name was surrounded in flames. Hellfire, she supposed.

“This is Lucy.” He caressed the black leather seat as though stroking a treasured pet.

"Is that a kind of motorcycle?" She didn't know anything about bikes. Though she thought it was cute. All red, white, and chrome.

"No, she's a Harley Davidson Softail Deuce. I call her Lucky Lucille, or Lucy for short. Won her in a game of Texas Hold ‘em.” He paused a moment. “And before we go, I have to give you the rules.”