Page 2 of Protective Biker

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Brandy

I’m sure he thinks I’m crazy. Nuts, in fact. Every time he talks to me, I act as if I’ve never talked to a man before. I can’t force the words out, so all he gets from me is a look as if I’m a deer caught in headlights and a few grunts instead of intelligent answers.

I mean, maybe it’s a good thing. I came here hoping to lie low, do my job, and make a little money. I didn’t come here to pick up men, even though I’m pretty sure I’m the only woman here that didn’t. I came here because I’m tired of all the looks I was getting working at the diner in town. My father is a murderer, and I swear half the time people look at me as if I’m going to pull out a knife or a gun and end them right then and there. It’s as if his actions automatically make me into a bad person.

Anyway, I was tired of all the stares and the people whispering behind my back, so I came to the clubhouse for the Guardians MC and applied for a job. I don’t get any of the stares or gossip here. The Guardians don’t give a care in the world what my father did. The only thing they care about is if I can serve drinks and not cause any drama. Seriously, that was in the job description. And I’ve not had any problem with doing my job, either. Well, maybe except the time that the cherry Ashley was practically throwing herself at Diesel. An intense jealously went through me, and I wanted to start throwing things the minute she put her hands to his chest, but before I could embarrass myself, Diesel picked her up from his lap and put her in the chair opposite him. I’m pretty sure he said something not nice by looking at the snarl on his face while he said it, but I couldn’t hear him from where I was standing.

It was in that instant that Diesel lifted his eyes to mine across the room. I know he saw the look on my face, and I didn’t even try to hide it. I was literally overcome with emotion, and I wasn’t quick enough to hide it. Since that day, I’ve felt a change in him. He’s always sought out my attention, but it’s gotten more intense since then. He’s always watching me. He doesn’t say much, but he’s not the type of man that has to. I sort of don’t know what to make from all the looks he’s given me. I’ve always been on the heavier side, and I’ve never got attention from men like him before, so it’s hard to tell if he’s waiting to see if I’m going to go on a killing spree – I’m sure by now he knows who my dad is – or if he thinks maybe I would be an easy lay or something. A lot of men think if you’re carrying extra weight, you’re just going to give them head in the back room or something. As if I should consider myself lucky that some guy would be willing to let me suck his cock which is fucked-up on a whole other level. And no matter how much I want to think Diesel is an ass... I know he’s not.

He’s probably the biggest guy here. He’s intimidating as all get-out. Heck, half the men here seem to step around him when they’re walking. But I’m not scared of him. Not in that sense, anyway. No, I’m more enthralled by him than anything. No man should be allowed to be that good-looking. His voice is deep and commanding when he talks. Hell, he can be talking about the weather with the Pres, and it sounds sexy as fuck.

I look out the door that Diesel went through and then finish grabbing some bottles off the table. I know he went for a ride because he’s been doing that a lot lately. He’ll be gone for an hour or so, and when he comes back, he always seems to feel a little more relaxed than when he left. Often I’ve wondered if he’s meeting up with a cherry or some woman in town to relax a little bit, but I always have to force my mind off that thought. I don’t want to think about him with another woman... even if he’s not mine.

With my arms full, I start walking toward the bar when a leg kicks out in front of me. I stop, barely able to hold on to the glass bottles in my arms. I don’t even have to see who the leg belongs to before I’m cursing the owner’s name. “Dammit, Prospect. Quit fuckin’ with me.”

I glare at the man seated in front of me. His foot is setting on the chair across the aisle, and he’s still blocking my path. Normally, I wouldn’t cuss at a member of the club like that, but I’ve had about all I can stand from him. He fucks with me every chance he gets, and I’m about over it. He’s always grabbing at me and making lewd remarks.

He puts his foot down on the ground, but before I can pass him, he stands up, putting his large, rounded belly against me. I take a step back and tilt my head to look up at him. “Let me by.”

He laughs, low and quiet with a smirk on his face. “First of all, my name is Axle, and you don’t get to call me Prospect.”

It’s my turn to laugh. “Really? Because that’s what you are. You haven’t been accepted into the club yet. Hell, I’m more of a member than you are. At least I have their respect. What did you have to do this morning? Oh yeah, you had to do some bullshit errands, didn’t you? You had to fill up all the bikes, but they didn’t let you go on the run with them, did they? Axle... hell, they should call you errand boy.”

I know I went too far. I can tell by the way his face turns red and the way his eyes are drilling into me that I’m going to pay for that one, but a woman can only take so much. I won’t just let him keep doing me this way. I won’t.

He takes a deep breath and looks over my head. His face softens but not by much. He leans down and whispers to me, “You’ll pay for that one, bitch.”

I grit my teeth. I want to scream for help, but I learned a long time ago that you don’t ever show you’re weak. Not to someone like Axle. “Let. Me. By,” I say again, enunciating each word so there’s no doubt he gets what I’m saying.

He steps to the side, and I walk by him, knowing that I fucked up. I just didn’t know how badly.


Tags: Hope Ford Romance