He cleared his throat to try to push past the discomfort that came with this conversation. “I have an offer from Silver-Stone Cycles to work with them on a part-time basis designing bikes.”
“The Silver-Stone Cycles? They’re as big as Harley-Davidson. That would be amazing.”
Amazing was right, but earth would have to shift to make that pipe dream become a reality.
“Are you going to take it?”
The excitement in her voice made him want to say he was, but he wasn’t there yet.
“There’s a lot to consider.” He didn’t want to get sidetracked with a long conversation about his dilemma right now, so he tried to shift the focus away from him. “How do you know about Silver-Stone Cycles?”
She teasingly wiggled her shoulders. “A girl has got to do something on weekend nights when she’s pretending to live a tawdry life of hookups with hot bikers. I watch Chop Shop and Sons of Anarchy, and—”
He laughed. “I think you just got ten times sexier.”
“All in the name of research. I love tattoos and scruffy beards and leather. Mm, leather. And seeing you on your bike? That’s the best foreplay ever.”
“I’ll remember that,” he said as they sat on the couch. “And I’ll remember not to bring you by the bar when the guys are there.”
“You’re the only biker boy I want. I started watching because I needed to learn the jargon, but the eye candy isn’t bad.” She said eye candy with a taunting tone.
He set their plates on the coffee table and tickled her ribs, making her squeal with laughter. “No more eye candy.”
“You don’t own me,” she said between laughs. “Eye candy, eye candy, eye candy.”
He tickled her again, and she squealed louder.
“Okay, okay, okay,” she panted out. “Only Bear candy.”
His mouth came down over her laughing lips, taking her in a long, sensual kiss that turned those sweet laughs into lusty moans.
Harley climbed up Bear’s leg, and he reluctantly pulled away to scoop her up and kiss her tiny pink nose. “Hey, little CB.”
“You are not calling her that!” Crystal reached for Harley.
He held the kitty farther away. Crystal leaned across his lap trying to get her, and he snaked an arm around her middle and kissed her neck. “Now, that’s more like it.” He kissed a path along her shoulder. “Mm-mm. Sweet as sugar.”
She laughed. “And you’re wicked as a Cajun spice.”
“Baby, you haven’t seen wicked yet.” He waggled his brows, cuddling the kitty. “I’m outnumbered by females. I should have gotten you a tomcat.”
“I have one by the name of Bear.” She bumped him with her shoulder and grabbed her pizza.
“I am not a tomcat anymore.” He didn’t regret his past experiences, but he needed her to know she was the only woman he wanted.
She tucked her feet beneath her. Her skirt inched up her thighs and his gaze followed.
“You’re still a tomcat, even if I’m your only prey. I bet the guys in your big, bad motorcycle club would give you shit about being with only one woman.”
“That’s not how it works, babe.”
“Then how does it work?”
“Depends who you talk to, and it’s not just club guys. They’re regular guys. Some are single; some have girlfriends or families. Guys are different. Some are all about sleeping around, and some are all about ownership, or possessing their women, while others—”
“Sounds like my guy,” she mumbled.
“No, it doesn’t. I might be possessive and protective of you, but I don’t think I own you.”
“Then you won’t sell me to the highest bidder?” Her smile told him she was kidding.
“Not unless you misbehave.” He set Harley on her lap. She’d known him and his siblings long enough to understand that their club was comprised of people who shared an interest in motorcycles and biker culture, as opposed to a motorcycle gang, which were typically known for engaging in illegal activities.
“There’s no difference between going out with me and going out with a guy who’s not in a motorcycle club except I’m better looking, tougher, smarter, and a million times hotter in bed.”
“My biker boy is very arrogant, isn’t he?” she whispered to Harley.
He laughed. “You’re a strong woman, Crystal, and I’d imagine you’re not going to like some things about how the club works.” That brought serious eyes up to his.
“Dixie told me that she’s not allowed to be a member, so you’re not going to shock me with the no-women-allowed thing.”
Relief swept through him. Thanks, Dix. “I know it sounds chauvinistic, but I respect the reasons behind what started as tradition and lives on as brotherhood among members. Think of it like a boys’ club. Once you add women into the mix, romances between members start, breakups happen, and the brotherhood becomes divided.”
“I love that brotherhood. The way you and your brothers are there for Tru and Gemma and the kids is amazing. And what you did for that little boy the other night? That’s what real heroes are made of.”
“No, sugar. That’s what humanity should be made of.” He was thrilled that after all these months she was finally admitting her feelings toward him instead of doling out snarky comments. “My father taught us well in that regard. I just wish there was more equity where Dixie is concerned.”
“Where does Dixie fit in? She doesn’t seem to mind the boys’-club mentality of the Dark Knights, or at least she doesn’t let on that she does.”
“Unfortunately, Dixie is stuck in the ‘princess’ slot in our father’s old-school head.”
Crystal laughed. “‘Princess’? Your sister is no princess. She’s the toughest woman I’ve ever met in my life. She doesn’t take shit from anyone.”
“I don’t mean ‘princess’ as in she thinks she’s a princess. She’s the president of the club’s daughter. She’s relative gold. No one messes with the president’s family. Especially the women. And my father adores her, but he’s so frigging old-school that he holds her back. She works as hard as me and my brothers but has no say in any of the bigger business decisions. I respect my father, but that doesn’t mean I agree with everything he does.”
“But she runs your shop and she works at the bar. How is she held back? She loves working there.”
“She’s done great things for our shop because I put her in that position against my father’s wishes. I gave her a shot and she proved herself. But her talents are wasted working at the shop and waitressing at the bar. If ever there was a person who should be running a business, it’s Dix. If he let her take charge of the expansion, she could do great things. Asking me to do it with Dixie helping out behind the scenes is a slight to her.”
Her eyes filled with challenge. “Then what are you going to do about it, Mr. I’ll-Make-You-Want-Me Whiskey?”
“It doesn’t work that way. It’s all about respect, baby, and I respect the hell out of my father.”
“And what about Dixie?”
Therein lay the issue. What about Dixie?