Chapter 3

3

HALO

Okay, so he looks a little mad. It couldn't be because I'm late. I got stuck on what outfit to wear. I've never had the guts to wear these pants, and it seemed like a good idea to try them out tonight. If you can't wear a pair of patent leather pants to a biker clubhouse, then where can you?

Riot, however, looks far from pleased. He looks good, of course. His hair a little mussed, and the small amount of scruff around his mouth and chin looks sexy as fuck. He's wearing a sleeveless cut with a tight tank underneath, exposing his two full tattoo sleeves. I also get a peek at his inked chest and it makes the blood rush straight between my legs. Jesus.

This man has power over me like nobody else I've met before. The slow burn with us is killing me, but I've had to put Star and Tilly's needs first over my own. That's the truth.

My need to fuck this man shouldn't exactly be on the top of my to-do list when there are other more pressing matters, like helping out my best friend, but I'm still a woman, after all.

I almost send myself into a frenzy when he reaches us and I catch a whiff of his cologne. He smells like pine needles, smoke and ash with a hint of citrus. Something so exotic and forbidden that it makes me squeeze my thighs together when we stop.

"Lace?" He pulls his sister into a hug and I'm jittery when his eyes fall on me over her shoulder. His lips part as his eyes travel down the length of my body and I don't know what he sees.

Does he like it?

Does he not like it?

Should I have worn something a little less racy?

Not that I'd ever let a man tell me what I can and can't wear, especially one I'm not even dating, but my need to please him is ruling my decision making right now. And I don't know if I like that. It's not somewhere I've ever been before.

Mind you, my confidence after my last few boyfriends was shot for a little while. I'm not gonna lie and say I've not struggled with my weight, but I'm happy at the size I am now. I work out. I'm healthy. I'm just thick-thighed and have breasts the size of Brazil and a butt that you could park a bicycle in. Sue me.

"Surprise!" Lace laughs. She turns to me and Hope; a girl I just met out in the parking lot. "He hates surprises."

"When did you get in?" he presses.

"Last night. I'm staying with Hope for the weekend until I can find something."

Riot's eyes shift to Hope but they don't linger long.

"Hey." Hope waves. "Happy Birthday."

"Thanks."

Hope just moved back not long ago too; she's already told me her life story as we were making our way to the clubhouse doors. I also know she's Priest's sister and they're close.

I shift nervously from one foot to the other when Riot's gaze finds mine.

Then I do what I always do, I wave and say, "Hello, Riot. Happy Birthday."

I see heat in his eyes immediately, and it does nothing to quell the beating of my runaway heart.

"Ooh, yes, presents!" Lace claps her hands excitedly. She pulls out a small envelope from her back pocket. "It's a gift card."

"You didn't have to do that." He frowns. "Should be savin' your money for an apartment."

She rolls her eyes. "You're welcome."

He slides it in his back pocket.

I shove a present in his face. "This is for you."

He takes my present, shaking it. "What is it?"

"Something silly."

His eyebrows knit together. "I doubt that if it's from you."

Suddenly, Lace grabs Hope by the arm and says, "I think we'd better leave these two alone."

My cheeks flush.

Riot turns and says, "Wait for me at the bar, don't talk to anyone."

Lace just laughs. "You're hilarious, Myles."

Myles?

So that's his real name. It suits him.

He opens his mouth to yell something at her, but swiftly drops it as she skips off through the clubhouse. His eyes slide back to me.

"Myles?" I pop a brow.

"I'll thank my loving sister later. How you doin'?"

I smile. "Good. Happy Birthday." I know I've already said it, but I can't think of anything else to say. I make the first move for a hug and he opens his arms.

As we embrace, he's warm. And he smells even better up close; that warm fuzzy feeling spreads through me and I can feel heat rising from my neck. He smells so good.

Why have I been keeping this man at arm's length?

If I'm being honest with myself, I have made excuses, and it isn't because I don't want to see him. I do. But there's a danger with a man like Riot. I've seen how my best friend fell hard, and that's not a bad thing, but love can destroy you. I've been there. All the boyfriends I've had, not that there's been that many, have never treated me well. I stayed for way too long in one relationship thinking that I could change him. Never having the confidence to leave, even when things got bad. The guys, aside from one, never hurt me physically, but mentally they did a lot of damage.

I was never good enough in their eyes. Lose weight. Blonde hair doesn't suit you. You look fat in that. Who do you think you are? Nobody could love you…

Words are what hurt the most, and it's taken most of my adult life to overcome some of the jibes and hurtful things that resurface whenever I question myself. I've done a lot of work to get where I am, and nobody is ever going to derail me. I have moments of doubt, and I try to hide my awkwardness with chatter and being friendly, but deep down I'm always just trying to ‘fit in'. I don't know if I fit with Riot, and if he has the ability to make me fall in love with him, then this could be really bad for me.

When he looks at me with those beautiful blue eyes, I feel like I'm going to melt into a puddle and make an even bigger fool of myself. Still, I hold my head high.

"You smell good." His voice is hoarse and rumbly. I swallow hard, trying to not let him see how much he affects me.

"It's just soap… and, uh, this spray I got in…uh, like, Floraland I think, but they don't make it anymore." Why I feel the need to say that, I don't know. I tend to babble when I'm nervous. The fact he likes my perfume, even though it's discontinued, is now permeating my thoughts on how I try and track down another bottle. This is how my mind works.

His eyes graze my cleavage for just a second. "That's a shame. It suits you."

"I tend to lean more toward subtle fragrances, rather than top notes that blow your head off."

His lips twitch. Oh, God. I forgot how bad I was at this. I don't have the confidence that Star does, or even Hope walking in here like she owns the joint.

You have just as much right to be here, Halo McBride. Remember that.

He rips the paper off his present and stares down at the little flashlight.

"It's tactical," I tell him. "And a good brand. I know you sometimes work security, and I asked Nevada and he said you didn't have anything like this."

I don't know why he has a smirk on his face, like some inside ‘flashlight' joke, but I roll with it.

"It'sperfect." He's beaming, that's a good sign. He tosses it into his other hand, then switches it on and off, examining it. I know he was in the military for a short stint, and I figured it had something to do with rifles since he was part of the reason the trafficking ring was shut down in Mississippi. I'm not one for gun violence, but I know he's a good shot.

I haven't asked him anything about what he used to do before joining the MC, maybe it's because I wouldn't like the answer.

"It's also waterproof," I feel the need to add.

"It's very thoughtful of you. I love it." He pinches my chin with his finger and thumb, and I bite my bottom lip, wanting him to kiss me. He doesn't. But that doesn't stop my heart from jolting when the warmth of his hands spreads right through my body. I want him, I know that much, but I just don't have the guts to voice it.

When he smiles down at his new toy, it's all the thanks that I need. Good. I didn't fuck up. I mean, flashlights are useful.

"Have a drink with me?" He looks up from under his lashes, shoving the flashlight in his back pocket. It isn't really a question, it's more like polite demand, but it has me feeling buzzed.

I nod. "Thought you'd never ask."

Before I can react, he takes my hand and pulls me along with him, heading toward the bar. Heads turn our way, and I think that's the whole point in why he did it. He's telling them, right? Staking a claim, like Star told me all about. Or am I just imagining things? If I hadn't turned up, surely he'd have another woman on his arm.

I do get updates from Star, and she hasn't seen him with any other women, or those dreaded sweet butt chicks that hang around looking perfect like models with their bits hanging out. I mean, I get it. But sometimes the old saying, ‘less is more,' really doesn't apply here. Not that the bikers would care.

A few wolf whistles ring out, which I'm sure are not directed at me, but when I feel Riot's hand squeeze mine even harder, my nipples pebble and my pussy clench at how fricking hot that makes me feel. I know he's all kinds of wrong. I know that. I mean, he's not a bad person. I don't get bad vibes from him, but there's this subtle dark cloud that hangs over him, like he's led a really troubled life. His protectiveness over his sister tells me that he's a good man, and whenever I've been with him, I've felt completely safe and at ease. So why every time he touches me do I want to throw caution to the wind and get down to some nasty shit? I guess it's the whole bad-boy-biker vibe he gives off, and clearly it's working.

He switches tact, letting go of my hand to press his palm to the small of my back, leading me in front of him. The bar is crowded and as we pass, men and women pat Riot on the back and say Happy Birthday as we pass. It's noisy, there's no band but a jukebox plays Guns N' Roses and the drinks are flowing. I see Star and Nevada and give them a wave. I only saw Star a few hours ago; I work for her in her PI office downtown and handle all the phone and email enquiries and paperwork. It keeps me busy but I love working with my best friend. Star may be older than me, but when we met a few years back through a mutual acquaintance, we hit it off. We kept in touch, and when I mentioned I was moving to the city, she offered me a job.

She's good to me, taking me in when I ran away from home. I opened my big mouth at Nevada's dinner a few weeks ago and told everyone at the table why I left home six months ago. I don't know what even possessed me. I had been thinking about my family a lot, especially my brother Antoine, who I've an even bigger strained relationship with. He's a lot like my dad and thinks women should be seen and not heard. How my mom has put up with my dad this long is anyone's guess. I guess she knows what she knows. It just hurts me that the two of them would scheme like this, like the arranged marriage, and try to make me do something against my will. They're quite religious, and they'd definitely frown upon me having any association with the MC, but I'm not trying to be overtly rebellious. I think at twenty-five I'm kinda over that milestone.

"What would you like to drink?" Riot's warm breath tickles my ear. "The other girls have champagne, but you can have whatever you want."

I'm not a big drinker, but one glass of bubbles might help my nerves. "Bubbles it is, please."

With my back to his front, he leans forward to get the bartender's attention and that's when I feel it. What the heck? Is that his… Oh, God. His hard cock is pressed right into the space between my ass and the small of my back. I swallow hard, trying to get my thoughts in check but all I can think about is how big he is and how good he'd taste in my mouth. Giving him head and lots of it is one of my ultimate fantasies, it's something I've thought about a lot. It's what I get off on, or have been, ever since I met him.

I have this fantasy where he creeps into my bedroom at night and has his way with me. Then after, I flip him over and suck that giant cock of his. Well, in my dreams it's giant, but now that he's pressed up against me, I can tell my dreams weren't far off.

He's taller than me by quite a bit. I'm barely five-foot-two, and he's got to be six-two, if not taller. He's also got wide shoulders, a strong chest, and arms that encase me protectively.

I turn slightly to look up at him. "You're safeguarding me tonight?"

He looks down, confusion crossing his face. "I gotta be with you lookin' like that."

My heart thuds in my chest. "Like what?"

He leans down to my ear. "You know what, Kitten."

A shiver runs through me. Kitten? Holy hell. New fetish revealed; Riot calling me cute names. I think I could handle that as a pet name. But only when he says it.

I clear my throat. "Kitten?"

He shrugs. "Better than Shorty."

I purse my lips. "My big brother used to call me that."

"Yeah? What did you do to him when he teased you?"

"Punched him in the balls."

He smirks. "Are my balls safe?"

Now it's my turn to dial up the flirt. "Not if you keep looking at me like that."

His eyes crease, fighting a smile. "Like what?"

"Like that."

He leans closer. "I can't help it. You took my breath away when you walked in."

His words are honest. His face so serious with his eyebrows knitted together.

I open my mouth, but no sound comes out. This is how he does it, I realize. This is how he beds women. He's just so sweet, and even if it is a line, it's better than some of the ones I've heard in my time. Or like the ex-boyfriends I've had who make zero effort and expect you to fall over yourself to have sex with them. With Riot, I'm slick at the very sight of his pretty blue eyes, and that's before I even get lost on the rest of him and his husky voice.

"That's, um, nice of you to say."

"You don't take compliments very well."

How do I tell him that I don't normally get a lot of compliments? Normally being a big busted, big butt woman, I get a lot of lewd remarks more than anything, as well as men staring at my breasts without being able to tell me my eye color.

He turns as the bartender calls his name, passing him a beer and a tall stem with champagne still bubbling.

Way to go, Halo. Give it all up before you've even had one drink.

I don't want him to think I'm easy. Then again, it's been a while since we were in Mississippi. Maybe I've waited too long? When I think about his hard dick pressed against me though, I realize maybe I'm being too hard on myself. He likes what he sees. He told me.

Not just that, I can tell by the weight of his heated eyes and how his body responds to me.

He's into you. Deal with it.

Handing me my glass, he holds his toward me. "A toast."

I smile. "To the birthday boy?"

"To the most beautiful woman in the room."

I smile. "You're making me blush." And my heart rate accelerate.

His voice dips again. "I love my present."

We clink glasses. "I hope you get some use out of it. If you're a good boy tonight, Myles, I might give you another present later."

He coughs on his intake of beer, and I instantly feel bad, setting my glass down on the bar after taking half a sip.

"I'm sorry." I pat his back as he coughs.

He side-eyes me, smirking. "I just didn't expect that from your pretty mouth."

"Me saying Myles, or the present part?"

"Both."

I walk two fingers up his chest, and his eyes immediately fall to where I touch him. "I didn't expect Kitten. " Okay it's delayed, but I want him to know I like it.

A slow smile spreads across his face. "Do you like it?"

"Only when you say it."

He takes another pull of his beer, his eyes never leaving mine. "Kitten suits you. Kittens are sweet. Lovable. Soft and you wanna play with them."

He. Did. Not.

"I think you're suggesting some innuendo there, Birthday Boy."

"When you put your hands on me willingly, that was all the innuendo I needed, babe."

His words are like flames against my skin, searing me with every single scorching touch. I need him like I need air.

I grasp the stem of the glass in my palm, needing something to hold onto other than him.

Okay, I'm pretty sure I'm going to have sex with this man tonight…

"It kinda helps when you look good enough to eat," I throw back at him.

His eyes darken, then he leans to my ear. "You talk about eatin' me, Kitten, and I'm gonna have to do somethin' about that right here in the middle of the bar."

Oh, his words. Imagining him doing things to me in a darkened corner makes me feel lightheaded. My body demands that I do something about it.

I bite my lip, my nipples almost painful. My body is aching for him. The pull in my lower stomach is something I've only ever dreamed about. As well as the throbbing between my legs for a man who I know is going to be good in bed. He probably knows all the right moves and would make my head spin, and even though I want him physically, it's only because I've connected with him emotionally. That's the danger in what we're talking about doing.

I know I feel things for him that are beyond just physical attraction.

"Maybe you should."

He cocks a brow. "Are you an exhibitionist?"

I snort. "No. I mean, I don't think so"

"Having sex in public places can be exhilarating."

"Sounds like you know."

His lips twitch. "Then again, anyone who even dares look at your sexy body would have to lose their eyesight."

"That sounds needlessly vicious."

"Not from where I'm standing."

"So you're saying my outfit is a hit?"

This gives him pause to glance down at my body once more, his gaze lingering on my breasts. Okay, they are big, and this is a tight top. "If I had my way, I'd never let you leave the house lookin' this hot."

I try, I really do, but if I don't bite my lip, I'm going to scream. "So you have a possessive side? Good to know."

"Only when it comes to my Kitten lookin' hot as fuck and puttin' her paws on me."

I waggle a finger in his face. "I see what you did there."

He glances down, then his eyes meet mine again. "After Mississippi, things were quiet for a while. I didn't think you were still interested."

I place a hand on his chest. "I was always interested, but I had to help Star with Tilly. That came first. I'm sorry if it seemed that I cooled off. I had to focus on Star. She's done so much for me…"

"I know you're a good friend, that shit with Tilly was rough. As long as I know you're still interested, that's all that matters."

"I am." I hold my glass to his once more. "Happy Birthday, Myles."

He grins. "The night is just beginning."