The question danced on the tip of his tongue. He and Tank used to watch all the crime shows together, making fun of the stupid criminals who left evidence behind, and the cops who took too long to put the pieces together. Although nothing topped the night one of the crime shows had featured an outlaw MC. They’d laughed so hard at the idiotic portrayal of bikers that Tank snorted beer out his nose.
Out of habit, Holt curled his fingers around the handle of his knife. He’d never said anything to Tank about the words engraved on the handle, but then he didn’t have to. They understood each other so well sometimes words got in the way.
Longing gripped Holt hard, and he fought it away. He couldn’t afford to indulge in memories of the Sinners or the man who had been closer to him than a brother.
“Once I find a job,” Naiya continued, “I’ll be doing blood and body-fluid analysis, DNA imaging, identifying genetic material on evidence, testifying in court … stuff like that. I’ve always been a bit of a science geek.”
Holt pushed himself up on his elbow. Beauty and brains. The only scientists he’d met cut meth and other drugs in basements and underground labs. Maybe that’s why Viper wanted her so bad.
She pushed herself to her feet. “I’ll go flag down a truck. That bike must weigh at least one thousand pounds and there’s no way you’re lifting it in the condition you’re in, and even less of a chance I can lift it. I do weights at the gym, but the most I’ve ever lifted is fifty pounds.” She held out her arm, flexed her tiny bicep. “Check out these pythons.”
Holt snorted a laugh. Fuck she was cute.
“Sorry.” Naiya blushed and looked away. “That was stupid. The geek strikes again. You just make me nervous, especially when you don’t talk, and I feel like I’m babbling. I’ll go get us a ride.”
Was she fucking crazy? “Hell no. It’s not safe for you to be standing on the side of the road in the dark.”
“I can tick off at least five reasons why we can’t stay here.” She held up her hand and tapped her finger. “First—
“I said no, darlin’. That’s all the reasons you need.”
She lifted an eyebrow, flicked her long hair back. “The very fact you can’t get up and stop me is the very reason we need to go. You need medical attention. I need not to spend the night in the cold, dark forest with a strange biker.”
Damn stubborn woman. “When the man says no, it means no.” Holt forced himself to sitting and folded his arms, surprising himself with the vehemence in his tone. Where the hell had that come from? He was the peacemaker in the club, the negotiator. Rarely did he ever take a firm stand, or impose his will, preferring to resolve problems by finding a mutually agreeable solution. But something about Naiya … or maybe it was their situation … gave him a confidence and conviction he’d never felt before, a need to take control. Protect. Which made no sense since he planned to use her as bait.
“Maybe back in caveman times.” Her hands found her hips. “And maybe that kind of thing works with your sweet butts and house mamas, but it doesn’t work with me. I’m not part of the biker world anymore. I don’t answer to bikers. I don’t answer to anyone.”
Holt’s groin tightened as he watched her stalk down the road, the moonlight caressing her curves, smoothing over her ass, lush in dark denim. Used to women falling over themselves to bed him, he’d never met a woman quite like Naiya. Smart, confident, self-assured, and seemingly oblivious to the charm that made it easy for him to meet women and talk his way out of trouble, she was the most intriguing woman he’d ever met.
“Fuck.” Holt fell back on the forest floor, leaves crackling under his stolen vest. He needed to keep his focus on the fight and his dick in his pants so he wouldn’t risk discovering the damage Viper had done was permanent. She was a means to an end, and his interest was likely the result of months of isolation and a lack of female company. He would protect her until she’d lured Viper to him. After that, they would go their separate ways.
He had no idea how much time had passed when Naiya returned, the bottom of her T-shirt tucked into the neck in a way that exposed her smooth, toned midriff and the crescents of her breasts.
Holt’s mouth watered, if that was possible for a man dying of thirst. Jesus fucking Christ, she was hot. And it had been so goddamn long since he’d had a woman …
“I got one,” she said, as he tried to keep his gaze anywhere but on her chest. “He’s a trucker. His name is Lucky Larry. He’s waiting for us. I told him we were in a bike accident and the bike was totaled.”
Someone had seen what he was seeing now? He pushed himself up to his haunches and took a deep breath as a wave of dizziness hit him. “You stood on the road like that? What the hell were you thinking?”