Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance (2 page)

The
man fucking Lindsey isn't Charles. It's Edward.

CHAPTER
ONE

BASH

I take a drag of the
joint that Jez passes to me, only inhaling a bit while keeping the rest in my
mouth and blowing it out after a few seconds to make it seem like I took a
normal hit. As much as I’d like to get high right now, especially with Jez
rubbing her tits back and forth against my arm to get my attention, Axle’s is
busy tonight. More so than usual, which means I need to stay alert. All I need
is another fucking incident bringing eyes down onto the MC.

Jez
takes the joint back and inhales deeply, intentionally thrusting her tits
against my arm again as she does. I know she’s looking for me to take her back
to my place tonight. I might do just that. I could use a good lay, let loose
some of the fucking tension I’ve been feeling lately. And Jez is an
enthusiastic fuck, if nothing else. The nice thing about her is that she knows
that fucking me isn’t going to lead to anything deeper, and she doesn’t care. She’s
a true house mouse, and she’ll be in someone else’s bed tomorrow night. Chicks
like her are a good distraction for the club, and distractions are what we need
most right now.

I
scan the crowd, looking for potential signs of trouble. At least there’s no
cops here tonight. Our club is small enough not to attract much attention from
the law, but even so, we’ve been lucky with some of the shit we’ve done in the
past. But how long can our luck hold out?

How
long can mine?

Most
of the crowd is familiar, or at least typical of a Saturday night. Regulars and
college kids who like the cheap booze enough not to mind the occasional biker
brawl or lingering stink of tobacco and pot that has seeped into every inch of
this place over the years.

I
do notice one new face, though. There’s a gorgeous blonde sitting at the bar
with a friend. She’s dressed in clothes that are far nicer than a place like
this warrants, and clearly looks uncomfortable.

What
the hell is a woman like that doing in a place like this?
Probably
lost.

When
she glances over here, our eyes meet briefly and I flash a smile that is more
malicious than friendly. It makes me laugh when she turns her head quickly
away. If she leaves here telling all her friends to avoid this place, all the
better for me. It’s not like she’s my type, anyway.

Billiard
balls crack against each other, yanking my eyes off of the stranger and back to
the game.

“That’s
a scratch. You missed everything,” laughs Snake. He’s speaking too loud, as
usual, as if the whole bar is interested in what’s happening on the pool table.

“The
fuck it was,” snarls Ripper. “I hit the nine ball.”

Snake’s
head spins around so fast that his thinly braided beard slaps against his
cheek. “Bullshit. There was like, an inch between them. I’d say you need your
eyes checked, if I didn’t already know what a filthy fucking cheater you are.”

Here
we fucking go.

Before
I can even slide off of my stool, Ripper has lifted his pool stick and slammed
Snake across the head with it, toppling the wiry man over. As Snake spins, he
grabs a nearby table for balance, sending beer bottles over like dominoes onto
a bunch of college kids.

The
young men at the table all jump to their feet, fists clenched, as one of them
pushes my bleeding VP off of the table and glares over at Ripper. These guys have
no fucking clue what they’re in for if they don’t back off. And as much as I’d
love to kick some college kid ass right now, that would definitely quality as
another incident. So it’s up to me to shut it down before it gets out of hand,
as usual.

Even
with the weed tugging at my muscles, I’m still in front of the table before any
of them act. None of them have worked up the courage to do much more than try to
look tough. Smart, even if they are a bunch of cowards. Right as I step
forward, one of them starts to move, finally screwing up the balls to act.
Bad
timing, kid.

“Sit
the fuck down.” I shove my hand against his chest, pushing him hard enough that
he stumbles, the backs of his legs hitting his chair and causing him to
collapse back down onto it. That move seems to give one of his friends some new
courage, as well. Even in my slightly high state, I can see his punch coming a
mile away. Catching it, I grab the kid by the arm and twist it roughly,
pressing my other hand down on his shoulder as I slam his face onto the table. The
puddle of beer splashes as his cheek slaps down into it.

“Don’t
be an idiot,” I growl. Since the kid I’m holding can’t see my face, I let my
glare take in all of his friends at once until I get the desired effect. Each
of them drop back down into their seats. With one last twist of his wrist, more
for my own satisfaction than anything else, I let go of the one kid and turn my
back to my crew.

Snake
is still on the ground, blood dripping down from his head and into one of his
eyes. Despite this, I can see the rage building behind them. I know that rage. I’ve
felt it. Hell, I feel some of it now. But the difference between the two of us
is that I can control mine. Most of the time, anyway.

“Get
up, Snake. You look like a fucking fool on the floor. Go home if you want a nap
or need your mommy.”

Snake
glares at me. Maybe antagonizing my VP isn’t a good idea, but neither is acting
soft around this crew. And Snake needs someone to take him down a peg, anyway.
Still, hitting my VP can’t go unpunished, either.

Ripper
is still standing by the table, holding the cue he’d used against Snake. He’s
smiling, probably thinking that what I said to Snake meant he was going to get
off easy. Wrong.

Without
warning, I grab the stick right above Ripper’s hand and push it forward, the
end of it slamming into the big man’s head. He lets go immediately to rub his
injured forehead, but that was just a light tap. Twisting my wrist, I bring the
bottom, thicker end of the cue up and swing it around, cracking him on the side
of the head this time. Only after he drops to his knees do I return the cue
back to the wall. I don’t need to say anything beyond that. If Ripper doesn’t
take that as a warning, he’s going to get a lot worse. But that should keep
things from escalating further between him and Snake. For now, anyway. He’s
been punished in front of the club, no further retaliation is needed. But Snake
will be pissed that I took that pleasure away from him.

It’s
only when the bar erupts with music and chatter that I even notice it had gone
silent in those few seconds while I dealt with the problem. I take a quick
glance around as Jez offers me the joint again. Most of the room has returned
to their own conversations, but the blonde at the bar is working overtime at
trying to look uninterested. Her head is tilted at just the right angle so as
to watch us out of the corner of her eye. Even when her friend says something,
she just tilts her head instead of turning.

Jez
shakes the joint at me again to get my attention, but I brush it away with a
shake of my head. She hates to be ignored, though, and now I feel her pressing
her tits against my arm again. Having to crack Ripper in the head has put me in
a foul mood, and instead of looking to mellow it out, I’d rather add fuel to the
fire, which means having a drink instead of a smoke.

Sometimes
pushing back my irritation for too long just means it’ll come out when I don’t
want it to instead of when I do, and that’s dangerous. I’m better off letting
off steam when I can, and the thrashing I just gave to Ripper probably bought
me at least the night off of having to babysit the rest of the crew. They’ll
stay in line now. At least until tomorrow.

Of
course, I can’t stop myself from making sure that I approach the bar right next
to the blonde that clearly thinks that it’s up to her to keep an eye on us. As
if she’s the last line of defense in case the crew and I decide we want to rob
the place, or something.

She
finally turns her head away as I approach, immediately becoming intensely
focused on her friend. Unfortunately for Blondie, her friend’s more interested
in talking to the bartender now. Guess Blondie shouldn’t have spent so much
time ignoring her.

“Enjoy
the show?” I know she knows I’m standing next to her, even though she’s looking
the other way now, but she still turns and acts confused. Her eyes are a pale
shade of green that go well with the blouse she’s wearing.

“Excuse
me?” I’ll give her one thing—she has a pretty good poker face. She just sucks
at spying.

“Over
at the pool table. You were watching us pretty intently. Guys in leather turn
you on, or just violence?”

There
it is—a crack as her face reddens a bit—but she maintains more control than I
expected.

“I
just…”

I
don’t wait for her to come up with something and regain her composure. Instead,
I press on. “I just figure you’re either lost, or looking to add some
excitement to what I imagine is a pretty boring life.”

Her
eyes widen, and now they seem more brown than they did a moment ago has her
face reddens even further. This time I’m not sure if it’s from anger or embarrassment.
But my mood won’t be satisfied if I let her off now. I’m still angry at having
to deal with the shit between Snake and Ripper, and taking it out on a Barbie
doll that wandered into a biker bar by mistake is probably the safest way to
let off steam.

“Listen,
I don’t know who you think you are, but my friend and I are just here to have a
drink. I don’t care about you or your friends, and I certainly don’t care if
you want to beat each other with pool cues all night long.” Blondie turns back
to look for help, but her friend is still busy flirting with Andy, the
bartender. That’s probably why he hasn’t come over to serve me yet.

I
can feel a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. It shouldn’t amuse me so
much to tease this girl, but she’s so far out of her element it’s funny, and
I’m just in that kind of a mood. Sucks for her.

“You
sure seemed to care a minute ago. You couldn’t take your eyes off me.”

“Are
you kidding me? I wasn’t even looking in your direction.”

I
laugh, giving into the smile finally, but it isn’t meant to make her feel good.
“That sure is the look you were going for. I’ve never seen someone stare at me
so hard, while at the same time, try so hard not to look like they were
staring.”

Her
mouth opens but no sound comes out, and for a moment, my eyes are drawn to her
lips. They’re full and red, and I’m jealous of whoever it is that gets to kiss
them. That thought makes me even more annoyed than I was a moment ago, but
hornier as well. I need to get back to Jez. She may not look like this beauty,
but she’s also guaranteed to be a lot less complicated.

“You’re
a fucking lunatic, you know that?” Finally, she finds her voice.

“Are
you normally attracted to lunatics?” I counter. “Look, I’ll be honest, you
aren’t my type, but if you want to fuck, I have access to a back room that we
can use.”

Blondie
is looking around now, almost as if she thinks maybe she’s being pranked or
something. She turns back to her friend and this time grabs her arm to get her
attention. As soon as she does, Andy notices me.

“Bash!
Sorry, man, what can I get you?”

“Whiskey,
a double. And another of whatever my girlfriend and her friend are drinking, as
well.” I point to the women, but Blondie shakes her head vehemently.

“No,
thank you, we can buy our own drinks.” She then turns to Andy. “I’m not his
girlfriend.”

Andy
laughs as he puts a glass on the counter and fills it with more than two
fingers of the hard stuff.

“Then
spill them out. Andy, whatever they’re drinking.” I turn without waiting to see
what Blondie does. The way she was staring at me, though—she’s probably just
distracted by my ass now. Or at least, trying to figure out a way to stare at
it while looking in the opposite direction. Her type is always the same. She’s
attracted like hell to the bad boy, but she’d never admit it to anyone. Least
of all herself. She’d be a fun diversion, but I can’t risk getting mixed up
with a woman like her. She’d be looking for a relationship, and that’s
something I’m not offering. Especially not to someone who is clearly a
corporate. Way too risky.