Born to Ride_A Clubhouse Collection

chapter 1 ~ Jade

My ideal man was nothing like the man standing in front of me.

Broad shoulders. Dark. Square jaw. Yes, the stranger definitely ticked those boxes. But that’s where it ended.

I liked my men cultured. Sophisticated. Perfectly groomed. And definitely well educated.

This man was rugged, rough around the edges and plain rude. Broody even. Long hair in a ponytail with piercings didn’t do it for me. Neither did bulky rings and leather armbands. And chains—ugh.

I was still undecided about tattoos—I could go either way. Sighing, I pushed the forms back toward him, trying not to roll my eyes. It’s going to be another one of those days.

“I’m not filling out any shitty forms. And that’s final.” He grunted like a Neanderthal.

I drew in a long breath and counted to three. “Well, then I’m afraid we can’t help you. We need the personal information of our clients before we rent a house to them. That’s not negotiable.”

He slung his backpack off his shoulder and onto the counter. “Sweetheart, I don’t think you understand. I’m willing to pay three times the security deposit you’re asking, plus one full year’s rental in advance. In hard cash. You don’t need personal information.”

I hated when a stranger called me sweetheart. It was so...condescending. I shook my head. “You’re wrong. The owners need information about you before they will rent the property to you. Those are the rules and there are reasons for those rules.”

“I don’t give a flying f*ck about your rules. You said the house was available immediately, yeah? It’s fully furnished, it’s in the right neighborhood and it fills my needs. That’s all I need to know.” He balled his fists on the counter, his dark eyebrows knitted together. A small vein ticked in his jaw. “It’s simple: I need a house to rent. You have a house to lease. I don’t see the f*cking problem here.”

My patience was running thin. I had a crap-load of other paperwork to get through and he was just wasting my time with his stupid arguments. Thank the Lord this was just a vacation job and I only had another month to go. If I had to deal with customers like this every day, I’d slit my freaking wrists. The customer is not always right. In fact, more often than not, they assumed rights which weren’t theirs in the first place. Like this idiot.

“Mr.—?” I drawled, my eyebrow raised. The scar across his cheek, which also slashed into his eyebrow, told a story I didn’t want to know. I shuddered.

“Ryder. Call me Ryder.” Steel blue eyes challenged mine.

“Ryder. Los Angeles has plenty of real estate agents. There may be someone else that will help you. I can’t.” I held up my hands and shrugged, hoping to God he’d get the message and just go away. Like right now. I turned toward the pile of papers screaming for my attention. I had urgent work to do, I wasn’t in the mood for unco-operative people eating into my precious time.

He didn’t move. He stood there glaring at me. “Well aren’t you just a little ray of f*cking sunshine?”

“Wh...what?” Nobody had ever spoken to me like that before. A*shole.

“Your customer service stinks.” He grabbed hold of the backpack and unzipped it. “See if this will change your mind.”

“Well, I may be biased toward someone who can actually read and write,” I snapped, “and listen.” Any moment now I was going to lose this cool, professional tone—I could give as good as I got, and then some. Sarcasm was my second language. It came with being smart and quick witted.

His jaw worked overtime—he clenched and released several times. He actually growled. I swallowed hard. Way to go, Jade, pissing off a mean and scary looking gangster dude. More balls than brains today, girl.

He turned the backpack upside down and shook it hard. Wads of green notes tumbled onto the counter. My eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Clever move. Almost impressive.

Alesha had just returned from her lunchbreak and walked into the reception area. “Holey moley,” she said as her jaw dropped open. She smiled up at the man and licked her lips. “I think I really like you. Hot biker, stacks of cash. I got back just in time.”

What the hell was that? I turned to her, disgusted that she would encourage this stranger with her flippant comment. Where was backup when I needed it?

“Put the money back into the bag. Please. It’s stupid displaying it like that. Anyone can see through the damn window,” I hissed.

This dumbass biker—if Alesha was right—was really starting to piss me off, big time.

The corner of his mouth twitched. He winked at Alesha. Damn cheek. He was enjoying this debacle. He shrugged. “It’s the only way I could get your attention.”

The door pushed open and Uncle Eric sauntered in, a wide smile plastered on his shiny face. He’d just been to a business lunch and I could see from the way his eyes glazed over, that he’d had a few too many glasses of wine. Both his eyebrows shot into his receding hairline when he saw the pile of notes.

“Jade? What’s going on?”

I pointed to Ryder, gritting my teeth. “This... gentleman... wants to rent the house in Beverley Hills. He refuses to fill out the forms. He thinks he can get away with paying cash. I explained that’s not how we do things around this agency.” There. Now Uncle Eric could help me get rid of him. And I could get on with my day.

“Any smart business man knows cash is king,” Ryder said, his gaze traveling from Alesha to Uncle Eric to me. His arms were folded across his chest, his biceps bulging under his tight black shirt. Yes, he was enjoying the commotion he was causing, completely ignoring my request to remove the money stacked on the counter. He clearly knew the power it had over mere mortals; what seeing that amount of money lying there in a heap did to them.

I watched as he started rolling up his sleeves, slowly and deliberately exposing the tattoos on his forearms. Alesha giggled flirtatiously, taking a step closer to him. Traitor.

His nails were well manicured. Not what I expected from a biker. The tail of a cobra snaked it’s way around his left arm and disappeared under the shirtsleeves. Damn, I’d always been attracted to a man’s forearms. To me they conveyed subtle signs of a man’s virility. And Ryder’s were exceptionally fine—in spite of the tattoos. I swallowed hard.

I caught his eye as the corners of his mouth twisted into a smile. I drew in a sharp breath. Ryder knew exactly what he was doing—he was trying to break down all resistance and he damn well knew it.

Uncle Eric rubbed his hands together. “Bring the gentleman to my office, Jade.”