Chapter 8

EIGHT

KYLE

The girls,Dennis, and I leave the bar. Climbing into the passenger seat of Bren's Jeep, I close the door and look over at the bikes parked in front of the building. They're sleek, black, sexy—God, I cannot handle this man.

"Oh, girl. You don't handle a man wearing a Dark Horse MC cut," Bren states. "He handles you."

"Do you know from experience?" I ask.

She doesn't say anything immediately. I can almost hear the sadness just in her breathing. Something has changed in the climate of the vehicle, and as much as I want to ask her details, I feel bad enough as it is for whatever she's thinking about.

"I did," she whispers eventually. "Once."

I really want her to elaborate, but I decide it's not my business. If Bren wants to tell me, she will. I'm not someone who pries into people's business, as much as I want to know every single detail.

And I do. I want to know everything about everyone. This is part of my issue with life. I'm nosy as hell, and it's gotten me into trouble more times than I can count. So, instead of asking anything else, I press my lips together and shift my attention to the window.

"Were you born here?" I ask, changing topics.

Bren hums. The Jeep bounces a few times with the potholes and dips in the road. "I was born here, raised, went to schools here, and now I work here. I'll die here, too. Probably fat and old, wishing I had appreciated my body and youth more."

"In your vision, do you marry or have kids?" I ask.

She snorts. "Babe," she says with a laugh. "I'm a stripper."

I shrug, my gaze still fixed out the passenger window. "Yeah?" I ask. "So, what? You're not the first young girl in the world to strip to pay the bills. Doesn't mean you can't ever get married and have a family."

She's silent again, and I worry that I've fucked up yet again. But then I hear her let out an exhale. The air in the car isn't as intense as it was a few moments ago talking about the men of the Dark Horse MC. So, maybe I haven't completely fucked up with her, again.

"Yeah," she whispers. "I guess you're right. I just don't know what man is going to want anything to do with me. I've been on that pole since I was sixteen years old. I'm thirty," she says in a whisper as if she should be ashamed of what she's doing.

"Bren?" I call out as she pulls into the small diner"s parking lot and finds a spot.

Turning my head, I watch as she shifts the Jeep into Park and then turns to face me. Her gaze searches my own for a brief moment.

I've probably screwed up with her. I'll be surprised if she even takes me back to my car after this, but then something changes. She reaches out, curls her fingers around my wrist, and holds me as her gaze searches mine.

"Being a stripper doesn't make you incapable of love, of a life."

"Every single man here knows exactly what and who I am, Kyle. You're new to town. You can reinvent yourself. But I am who I am."

Wrapping my other hand around hers at my wrist, I squeeze and look up into her eyes.

"If I had stayed in my hometown, I would have forever been Kyle Stewart. The abused-by-her-parents, neglected, white trash girl I was as a kid. Or the abused-by-her-boyfriend woman, a boyfriend of fourteen years who couldn't be bothered to ever marry her. Although, thank God for small favors on that."

"What are you telling me, Kyle?" she asks.

"If you don't like where you are, move."

She arches a brow, then lets out a laugh. It's almost like a cackle, and she pulls her hand from between mine. She turns her head to look out of the windshield. Everyone else is already here, but Bren doesn't care.

I have a feeling that Bren waits for no one and doesn't give a fuck if people have to wait for her.

"You're right," she breathes. "I can just leave. Nothing is holding me here except for my own fear."

"That's funny," I whisper.

"What?"

"Fear is what drives me to leave a place," I say, confessing so much and yet nothing all at once.

It is funny. She's right. Instead of saying that, though, I smile as I reach for her hand, squeezing her once, then push the door open and jump out of the Jeep. She does the same, and together, we walk into the diner, neither of us saying anything else about it the rest of the night.

There's no time to discuss anything about our futures or our pasts as soon as we arrive at the table with everyone else. The group is loud, joyful, and fantastic. I've never had a group of friends before.

This is all a first for me, and I am loving every second. I don't say much, and I don't have a whole lot to add to the conversation, but I enjoy every second of it. I enjoy being part of a group.

When it's time to leave, I'm unsure of what I anticipate, but it's not for Dennis to reach out and wrap his fingers around my bicep. Dipping my chin, I look at his hand, then slowly lift my gaze to meet his.

Arching a brow, I silently wait for him to either say something or move his hand. Thankfully, he does both. But what he says makes me pause, tilting my head to the side to stare at him for just a moment before I try to shake his thoughts out of my head.

"I know you're going to ignore me because he's hot as shit. But just be careful, Kyle," Dennis murmurs. "They are trouble, and not in a fun way. In an illegal way."

GNAW

The plans are roughly figuredout, we've walked the property, and have everything ready for contractors. Then there will need to be design people to figure out the inside of everything.

Honestly, I'm glad that none of that shit involves me. I did everything I needed to up to this point, and now I just keep documents, make notes, get money from Clink, and collect money from Sal when the time comes.

The guys leave, Sal leaves, but I stay behind. It's well past four in the morning, but I'm not leaving this parking lot without Kyle. I need to be with her. I need to smell her, touch her, taste her, and that will happen this morning.

Leaning against the side of the building, my foot propped up on the wall, I play a game on my phone to pass the time. Thankfully, it doesn't take too long, maybe half an hour, for the headlights from Bren's Jeep to appear down the road.

Without moving, I watch as Bren pulls in and stops beside Kyle's piece-of-shit car. "Bye, thank you," Kyle calls out before she closes the Jeep door.

Flicking my gaze to Bren, I lift my hand and give her a wave. She does the same, then shifts the Jeep into Reverse and drives away. Once she's gone, my attention shifts to Kyle. She's standing beside her car, her gaze on me.

Pushing off the wall, I move toward her. One step, then the other, one foot in front of the other until I'm directly in front of her. Her breath hitches the moment I'm in her space. I don't know if that is because she's nervous, excited, or maybe she's something else, but I'm not sure I want to know.

Lifting my hand, I cup her cheek, searching her gaze with mine. I smirk. Nerves. She's nervous. She sucks her lips in as she inhales a deep breath. I slide the pad of my thumb along her cheek.

"I'll follow you," I murmur.

She releases her lips, nodding once, then starts to take a step to the side. Sliding my hand from her cheek to around the back of her neck, I grip her there. Dipping my chin, I touch my mouth to hers in a chaste kiss but keep my lips there as I speak.

"I can't wait to taste every inch of your body."

She exhales, her breath washing over my lips. "I am out of my element."

I almost laugh at her words. I can't see her being out of her element when it comes to any kind of sex. She is gorgeous, she is sexy, the way her body moves… no fucking way.

I flex my fingers around the back of her neck before I release her and take a step back, my hand falling to my side.

"Get in your car, babe."

She does. Without another word, I watch as she tugs the car door open and slips inside before I walk over to my bike and straddle it. I start my engine, and she does the same and begins to drive. She's got a firm grip on her steering wheel at ten and two.

I chuckle as I follow behind her.

Kyle follows every rule of the road, not exceeding the speed limit by even one mile per hour.

It's cute as fuck.

She's indeed a rule follower. I know that when she lets go, it's going to be an explosion of fucking epic proportions, and it's going to be beautiful to watch. I hope to get a little taste of it this morning.

Parking my bike beside her car, I follow her into her motel room. She moves into the room, tossing her bag on the table. Her back is to me. I can tell she's nervous. I close the door behind me, flip the lock into place, and watch her for a moment.

"You've got secrets," I announce.

Her body freezes, and I watch as her spine straightens. Slowly, she turns around to face me, and her eyes slide up my entire body until they find mine. She chews on the corner of her bottom lip as she stares at me.

"I do," she whispers.

I can tell she doesn't want to tell me what they are. She doesn't have to. I'll find out on my own. But before this night happens, I need to know how much fucking drama this is going to bring to the table for me.

"You married? Got kids? Did illegal shit and are on the run?" I ask.

Her eyes widen, then her lips pull up into a grin before she shakes her head a couple of times. "No," she replies on a laugh. "None of those things."

"Then whatever it is, we'll figure it out later."

"Later?" she asks.

I hum, taking a step toward her, then another. Kyle tilts her head back as I approach so she can continue to look up into my eyes. There is a moment of silence, one in which we watch one another. I don't know what she is looking for, but I want to see inside of her. I want to see all of her.

"Later," I confirm.

"And now?" she whispers.

I lift my hand and loosely wrap my fingers around the front of her neck. Sliding my thumb up and down the column of her throat, I stare into her eyes, soaking them up and wondering how I can make them widen in surprise over and over.

I want to hear her breath hitch, I want her gaze on me, I want her lips parted, and I want her to come—hard.