3. Will

3

WILL

A vision of two voluptuous breasts dances through my mind. I float between them in a black sea. The blackness holds me down, and I try to swim through it to get back to the breasts and curvy body they belong to.

But they're just out of reach above the surface of the black water. If I can just break through it, I'll see them.

I'm swimming through the blackness and reaching for the breasts…

The vision fades and my eyes flicker open.

The first thing I see isn't breasts but the cold tiles of a strange floor. Female voices reach my ears, and I lift my gaze to see two figures standing together by a bed.

One of them has a child strapped to her front, and the other has her arms folded over her chest.

I try to sit up, and there's a thumping in my head.

"He's awake," one of the women says.

She comes over and crouches next to me. The scent of body wash fills my nostrils, and a memory of being hit by a shampoo bottle makes me wince.

The woman has dark eyes and full lips and she's saying something to me, but I'm mesmerized by her lips moving.

Her dark hair sticks to her shoulders, making her black t-shirt wet. A black t-shirt that hugs her figure and outlines the perfect breasts. She's the woman from the shower. The woman I saw naked. The woman who attacked me.

Her fingers reach for the side of my head, and I recoil. "Are you going to hit me again?"

She winces and presses her lips together. "That depends."

The other woman has come to stand behind her, and she's holding a plastic rattle. But the way she holds it tight in her fist and raised reminds me of the shampoo bottle. A plastic rattle never looked so menacing.

"On what?"

"Why are you in my room?"

My key card is still clasped in my hand, and I hold it up to her. "This is my room."

She hurmphs and looks back at the other woman, who raises her shoulders slightly but doesn't lower the rattle.

"I'm in room 102," the pretty woman with the dusky pink nipples says. "There must have been a mix up."

I sit up, and the world goes sideways. Her hands find my shoulders, and she leans me against the wall.

"Take it easy. You've had a knock. "

Her voice is smooth like honey and contains nothing to indicate she's the one who's responsible for the knock that has my head thumping and images of dancing breasts going through my mind.

"You attacked me."

She bites her bottom lip. "You walked in on me in the shower."

She's right to be indignant. A strange man just walked in on her naked, her reaction was entirely appropriate.

I shift position and my bladder screams at me, which is a reminder of why I was in such a hurry for the bathroom.

"I need to use the bathroom." She squints at me suspiciously, and I wonder what's got her so jumpy. "I need to empty my bladder, which is why I ran in here so quick. But your attack waylaid me, and now I'd very much like to get on with my bladder emptying."

A ghost of a smile dances on her lips. "You talk funny."

And you have perfect breasts, is what I want to say, but I'm not saying anything provoking. I've seen what she can do with a shampoo bottle.

The woman helps me to my feet, and the room tilts slightly. Damn, I must have really been knocked out.

I stumble, and she catches me. "You need some help?"

There is no universe where a pretty young woman with perfect breasts helps me pee.

I take a breath and steady myself with one hand against the wall. "What are you, a nurse or something?"

She smiles, and it makes her even more beautiful if that's possible. "Something like that. I work in a nursing home."

Kind and selfless. This woman is more than a perfect set of breasts. But she's still not helping me pee.

"I've got this."

A few minutes later with my bladder taken care of, I catch myself in the mirror as I wash my hands. Blood trickles from my temple, and there's a small gash at my hairline.

I need to get cleaned up, then sort out this fuck-up with the room.

When I open the bathroom door, the woman with the rattle is sitting in a chair nursing her baby. She gives me a death stare as if challenging me to say something.

I avert my eyes. I've seen enough breasts today, and even though she's got a muslin cloth draped over her, I don't want to get an accidental look at a boob. Especially as the presence of a baby means there's probably a hairy biker out there somewhere who she belongs to, and the last thing I want this weekend is any trouble.

My attacker is sitting on the bed, and when I turn to her she smiles sweetly at me, and damn but the pain in my head eases a little.

Maybe a little woman trouble wouldn't be so bad.

"Let me look at that for you."

She's got a first aid kit laid out on the bed and retrieves a bowl of hot water from the bathroom. She pulls over the table by the door and sets the bowl on it.

"I'm sorry about hitting you. I thought you were a pervert. You can't be too careful with all these men around."

I don't blame her. There's got to be at least five bikers for every woman in town right now. It's a family friendly event, and I've seen plenty of kids around. But there are still a lot of single male bikers, and when they're in packs like this, some of them forget how to behave.

Not every MC here is as honorable as the Wild Riders. It was lucky it wasn't one of the Underground Crows that walked in on her. Who knows what those animals would do.

"I can see how it must have looked."

Now that I'm not blinded by the pressure in my bladder, I don't know how I missed the signs of occupation in the room. A black purse is strewn across the bed, and a small duffle bag sits on the table under the television. A pair of bright green sneakers are by the door. In my rush to get to the bathroom, I don't know how I missed them.

The woman dabs a piece of cotton wool in the water and presses it to my forehead. When she leans in her breasts are right by my face, and I catch a whiff of her freshly bathed skin.

I resist the urge to reach out and touch them. I know what they look like under her t-shirt, and that's an image that will stay with me for a long time.

"What's your name?"

"Stella," she says. "And this is Cleo, my sister."

I glance over at Cleo, and she scowls at me. With her heavy eyeliner and all leather outfit, she's a menacing figure. I get the feeling these girls know how to look after themselves.

"I'm Will."

"Nice to meet you, Will."

My name on her lips causes a stir in my pants, and I cover my lap with my hands hoping she doesn't notice. This is the closest I've been to a woman in months, and the heady mix of her scent, her smile, and knowing what her breasts look like has my blood heating.

She works in silence, administering antiseptic, and I give myself over to her soothing hands.

"You've come all the way from North Carolina?"

"How do you know that?"

She leans behind me, and her fingers trace the outline of my patch. "It's written right here."

Her wet hair falls against my cheek, and I capture a strand and twist it around my fingers. Her gaze shifts to my hand, and her mouth pops open in surprise.

"I'm sorry I startled you, Stella."

My eyes dart to her full lips, just inches from mine, and I've never wanted to kiss anyone so bad. Stella's chest heaves up and down, and I think she might feel this connection too.

There's a tiny cough from the corner as the baby finishes it's feed.

I release Stella's hair, and she takes a step back from me. But our eyes remain locked.

"I've put butterfly stitches across the cut. It's not deep, but you'll probably bruise." She bites her bottom lip. "I'm so sorry I did that to you. "

It's not convenient having a banging headache and a bleeding head, but I got to meet Stella, so it might even be worth it.

"Don't worry. I'll live. What we need to sort out is where I can get another room."

Stella shakes her head. "Oh no, I can't kick you out after doing this to you. You stay here, and I'll find another room."

We both know there are no other rooms going in town, and if the hotel's fucked up, then the only sleeping space left will be in the field of tents, which is mostly the rowdy singles. There's no way I'm letting this beauty camp down in that nest of vipers.

"I'm not letting you give up your room. I'll find somewhere."

A few minutes later, I've rounded up April who made all the bookings, and we're in the line to speak to reception.

The middle-aged woman behind the desk looks flustered, and I don't blame her. The lobby is filled with angry bikers. It looks like ours wasn't the only mix up.

When we get to the line and explain the situation, she's remorseful but resolute. There are no more rooms.

Stella finds us at reception, and before I can stop her, she hands her key card over to the woman. "He can have the room."

I take her hand to stop her, and a shot of electricity fires up my forearm. Our eyes lock, and her mouth pops open in surprise .

She's the first to recover, and I wonder if it's an effect of the injury making me jumpy.

"It's okay," she says. "There's space in Cleo's room. I'll bed down with them."

"I can't kick you out of your room."

"It's not kicking me out, Will. I don't get much time with my sister. My stuff's already moved."

She glances over at the doorway where Cleo is waiting with the baby tucked into her leather jacket.

"Think of it as compensation for beating you up."

She smiles at me, and I can't resist her infectious grin, but it's not right taking her room. "I'll find a tent to sleep in."

Stella laughs, and it's a deep throaty laugh. "I can't imagine you camping out in the field."

I open my mouth to protest. When I was in the military, I slept rough all the time. But maybe I've gotten soft in my old age as a civilian.

"It's already done. I've moved my stuff, my key's handed in. I promise I won't bother you again."

She turns to leave and I watch her walk towards the door, hoping very much that she does bother me again.

I notice she's not wearing a leather jacket. She doesn't have an old lady patch, which means Stella isn't attached to anyone.

Suddenly, I think a little trouble this weekend might not be a bad thing.

She joins Cleo and holds the door open for her and the baby. As Cleo turns around, I get a glimpse of her biker's patch for the first time .

In emblazoned red letters on the back of her jacket, it reads "Property of the Underground Crows MC."