Riding Temptation
Page 8
“If we survive initiation, can we ride with you after the rally?” Jessie asked.
“Yeah. If we invite you to initiation.”
“Then we’ll all have to be on our best behavior, won’t we?” Jessie said with a pointed look at Diaz.
Crush snorted. “I’m tired of sitting. Let’s ride.”
They cruised the rally area for a while, Crush picking up his gang here and there, then they rode north into the hills, taking some winding roads where they could really turn their bikes on edge. Diaz was content to ride behind Jessie, since most of the roads were two lane and they had to ride single file. This way he could keep an eye on her as well as where they were and where they were going.
This was Devil’s Skulls territory, and he’d already rode up next to Spence and told him to keep watch for anything that looked suspicious. So far, it was only asphalt in front of them and forest on either side. A few houses here and there, but they’d ridden pretty remote and deep into a dense forested area, so not much housing to be seen. Mainly resort cabins, the kind people bought and used for vacations. It was too isolated an area for general living purposes, unless you retired and enjoyed roughing it.
As the breeze blew by, Diaz inhaled. It was woody here, the smell of pine and earth heavy in his senses. He loved the open road, always had. Even when he was a kid he liked to hop on his minibike, take the back roads from home, and just get lost, as far and as fast as he could. Dirt spraying in his face, he’d sail over the mounds and fly so he could forget. He could relax, and pretend he was someplace else. Someone else. Someone free.
Of course back then he’d eventually had to go home, had to face reality.
Now, this was his reality. This was his job.
He was damn lucky, and he had General Lee to thank for it. He pushed the throttle and roared past several bikers, including Jessie, so he could catch up with Crush, who nodded as they rode next to each other for a few miles.
Diaz spotted a trail of smoke back in the deep woods. He pointed it out to Crush, who nodded. When they stopped at a bar several miles down the road, he decided to test Crush.
“Did you see that smoke back there?”
Crush narrowed his gaze “Yeah. So?”
“What did you think that was?”
He shrugged. “Campers, probably.”
“In those dense woods? How do you get back there? There are no roads that I saw.”
“Hell if I know. Maybe there are bikers camping out. I need a beer.”
Interesting that Crush blew him off, almost as if he didn’t want to continue the conversation. Diaz had caught a glimpse of a flag as they’d ridden by that spot. Maybe it was a marker of sorts. They’d breezed past it quickly, though.
He’d also made a mental note of the mile marker they passed. They might have to come back and investigate this area. It could be a hidden survivalist camp nestled back in the woods. The location was perfect—seldom traveled back road, deep in the forest, and no discernible path leading into it. Too bad they couldn’t do it now, but there was no way they could go off road without arousing Crush’s suspicion, and it was vital they get in his good graces.
Which Jessie certainly had done today.
And was still doing, making a pointed effort to ignore him and hang with Crush. Whatever. She could do what she wanted as long as it didn’t compromise the assignment. He intended to sit back, enjoy his beer, and watch.
Which was why he was the closest to the door when it banged open. He sat forward, his senses on immediate danger alert.
A group of bikers strolled in, and the first thing Diaz caught was the scowl on Crush’s face. Then the other Devil’s Skulls turned slowly around.
The tension in the room increased, and the small bar had just become way too overcrowded. The leather jackets the gang wore said Dustriders. Not good. The Dustriders were a bad gang out of Texas. Diaz was familiar with them. Half the members ended up tossed in jail at every bike rally they attended, and they made it a habit to brawl with other bikers at any opportunity.
The Dustriders didn’t play well with others.
Diaz needed to get to Jessie, to be sure she was safe. She stood next to Crush, but Spence was on the other side of her. A short shake of Spence’s head told Diaz it was a bad idea to make any sudden moves. At least Spence would be there to see to Jessie’s safety. Diaz gripped his bottle of beer, his entire body ready to spring into action.
“My guys want a beer and you’re in our way.”
That statement had been spoken by a big, burly guy. He looked like a damn wrestler, all muscle and brawn with a thick red beard and thighs like tree trunks.
Crush leaned against the bar and shrugged, seemingly unaffected. “No one’s stopping you, Meat.”
Meat? The dude’s name was Meat? Diaz resisted the urge to laugh. Probably not a good idea, all things considered.
“You’re stopping me, Crush. You and all these pansies you like to call the Skulls.”
Crush didn’t budge, seemingly unaffected by the insult. “Don’t start shit you can’t handle, Meat.”
“I can handle anything and you know it.”
“You want a beer or do you want to rumble today?”
Meat grinned. Missing a few teeth on the top, too. Nice. “I think we’ll just work up a good thirst first.”
“Okay, all of you. Take it outside.” The bartender and owner of the bar was a big enough guy on his own. “Or I’ll call the sheriff and no one will get to fight.”
This wasn’t going to go well. Diaz made eye contact with Spence, hoping Spence was a good mind reader. He wanted Jessie out of the middle of this and now. Spence inched in front of Jess. Jess frowned at Spence, then shot a mutinous glare at Diaz as if to tell him she could take care of herself.
She could be pissed at him if she wanted to, but no way would he let her get hurt. This was going to get ugly.
Crush gave a short tilt of his head. “No problem, Bill. Come on Skulls, outside.”
Diaz shot out of his chair and moved to the door. If they were going to be asked to go through initiation, they’d have to prove they deserved it. Besides, he had enough anger boiling up inside him that it would be a pleasure to release a little of it by skinning his knuckles on a few jaws.
Half the group hadn’t made it out the door before fists went flying. Meat had shoved Crush in the back, sending him sprawling onto the ground, a cloud of dirt in his wake. Crush rolled and lifted his booted foot into Meat’s ample stomach, and with a hard kick Meat crashed onto the bar’s porch, temporarily blocking the doorway.
Then all hell broke loose and Diaz could only concentrate on himself, because he was shoved through the doorway and jumped from behind. A fist connected with the side of his head, sending his anger and frustration into full-on fury. He whirled on his attacker and sent a fist into his nose. Blood spurted, the guy went down, replaced immediately by another.
It didn’t take long to figure out the Dustriders fought dirty. Fine with him. He’d grown up with street fighting. No rules—made brawling more interesting that way.
He was so occupied he couldn’t stop to look for Jess. The only thing he could hope for was that she had the sense to stay inside, though he doubted it. There were women in the parking lot tearing each other’s hair out, biting, kicking, and scratching.
He knew Jessie. No way would she meekly wait inside like a coward, because she was street tough too. She’d want to be right in the middle of this.
Opponents began to wear down. Heaving, panting breaths of exhaustion became the prominent sounds, replacing the initial battle cries.
When it became evident the Skulls weren’t going to yield the bar, the Dustriders grudgingly climbed onto their bikes and headed out, dragging their wounded with them. As soon as they were gone and the billowing dust settled, Diaz looked around for Spence. He found him near the porch, sporting a bloody lip and a wide grin.
“That was some serious f**king fun,” Spence said, glancing over Diaz. “Anything broken?”
Diaz licked his own blood off the corner of his mouth. He had some cuts and bruises, but otherwise he was fine. “Hell no. They were pussies.”
Spence laughed.
“Have you seen Jessie?”
Spence shook his head. “I was too busy kicking ass.”
“Me too.” Diaz turned in a circle, searching, finally saw her walking toward them. Dusty, her face dirty, her hair disheveled, with a wide grin on her face.
“Kick their asses, honey?” Spence asked, throwing his arm around her shoulders.
She tilted her head back and graced Spencer with a smile Diaz hadn’t seen directed at him all day long. “You know it.”
Spence kissed her on the forehead. Diaz sighed, then masked his emotions as Crush came toward them.
“Y’all are good fighters,” Crush said, extending his hand to shake theirs.
“Hey, it was fun,” Spence said. “We get bored if there’s no ass to kick.”
Crush laughed. “That’s what I like to hear.”
They went back into the bar, cleaned up a bit, and really enjoyed their beers. By the time the sun had set, they’d made their way back to the rally and the main drag, goosing their engines as they rode up and down the street, much to the delight of the crowds lining the sidewalks. Bikers by the thousands rode well into the night hours, stopping occasionally at bars along the way—if they could manage to find a parking place. Crush and his gang seemed to be content to simply ride and be seen. Diaz could almost believe Crush was looking for something, or maybe someone, but they finally broke off when the crowds began to die down. They closed down the street, the Devil’s Skulls one of the last gangs left.
“I need to find Rex,” Crush said. “He and a few of the others went riding north into one of the other towns. Said there was a hot babe review at one of the bars. Wanna come?” Crush asked them.
“Sounds great to me,” Spence said.
“Me too,” Jessie chimed in with a teasing grin. “But only if the review includes guys.”
Diaz shook his head. Hadn’t she had enough for the day, or was she deliberately trying to provoke him? Knowing Jess, it was probably the latter.
Crush laughed. “Not sure about that. I think it’s all girls, but there’ll be plenty of guys there watching.”
“Good enough for me,” she said. “I’m in.”
That was Diaz’s cue to put an end to Jessie’s bullshit. “I don’t think so.”
“You’re not coming along, Diaz?” Jessie asked.
“No. I mean you aren’t going either.”
“Huh. Last time I looked I was over twenty-one. And you aren’t my dad.”
“And I’m taking that as a clue to hightail it the hell out of here before there’s more bloodshed. Let’s ride.” Crush took off and the rest of them followed, leaving Diaz and Jessie on a side street, staring at each other.
“Let’s go back to the hotel.”
She shook her head. “I think we should go with Crush.”
“I think Spence has it covered. You and I need to talk.”
“Is that an order?”
She was really pushing it, but if that’s how she wanted to play it . . . “As a matter of fact, it is.”
She shrugged, started up her bike and they rode back to the hotel.
Jessie didn’t speak to him on the ride or on the elevator to the room, instead staying a couple of steps ahead of him, using her key to walk into the room. She tossed her things onto the desk without a backward glance in his direction. With every silent step she took, Diaz’s temper rose.
“Enough, Jessie.”
Ignoring him, she peeled off her jacket and sat on the bed, toeing off her boots, concentrating her attention on her feet. She wouldn’t even look at him. Diaz shrugged out of his jacket and threw it over a chair, crossing his arms as he stood in front of her, willing her to make eye contact.
She didn’t. Instead, she grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom. He heard the shower turn on.
Fine. They both needed to clean up after that brawl at the bar today. He’d wait her out, but he wasn’t going to let this go. Instead, he paced the room, trying to block out visuals of her na**d in the shower, water streaming down her body in rivulets, then stepping out to smooth lotion over her creamy skin.
Okay, that wasn’t helping. She’d hardly take him seriously as her superior if he had a raging hard-on when he talked to her. He focused instead on the mission, on everything they’d discovered so far, on questions unanswered. Like that flag and the smoke he’d spotted today.
Jessie opened the door. The scent of her shampoo filled the room as she walked by. He yanked clean clothes out of the drawer and went into the bathroom, took a hot shower, finishing it off with cool water to clear his head. When he came out, she was sitting on the bed, staring at the darkness outside.
“We need to talk.”
No answer. She stood and inched around him, heading toward the bathroom again. Oh, no, she wasn’t going to hide anymore. He grabbed her wrist before she could slip by.
“Jessie.”
She stopped, angled her head so her gaze met his.
“What?”
“Sit down.”
“Is this about work?”
“Yes.”
“Fine, then.” She took a seat at the foot of the bed.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
She stood and walked toward the bathroom again. “We’re done.”
He blocked her way. “We’re not done. Sit down.”
“You said we were going to talk about work. That wasn’t work.”
“Yeah. If we invite you to initiation.”
“Then we’ll all have to be on our best behavior, won’t we?” Jessie said with a pointed look at Diaz.
Crush snorted. “I’m tired of sitting. Let’s ride.”
They cruised the rally area for a while, Crush picking up his gang here and there, then they rode north into the hills, taking some winding roads where they could really turn their bikes on edge. Diaz was content to ride behind Jessie, since most of the roads were two lane and they had to ride single file. This way he could keep an eye on her as well as where they were and where they were going.
This was Devil’s Skulls territory, and he’d already rode up next to Spence and told him to keep watch for anything that looked suspicious. So far, it was only asphalt in front of them and forest on either side. A few houses here and there, but they’d ridden pretty remote and deep into a dense forested area, so not much housing to be seen. Mainly resort cabins, the kind people bought and used for vacations. It was too isolated an area for general living purposes, unless you retired and enjoyed roughing it.
As the breeze blew by, Diaz inhaled. It was woody here, the smell of pine and earth heavy in his senses. He loved the open road, always had. Even when he was a kid he liked to hop on his minibike, take the back roads from home, and just get lost, as far and as fast as he could. Dirt spraying in his face, he’d sail over the mounds and fly so he could forget. He could relax, and pretend he was someplace else. Someone else. Someone free.
Of course back then he’d eventually had to go home, had to face reality.
Now, this was his reality. This was his job.
He was damn lucky, and he had General Lee to thank for it. He pushed the throttle and roared past several bikers, including Jessie, so he could catch up with Crush, who nodded as they rode next to each other for a few miles.
Diaz spotted a trail of smoke back in the deep woods. He pointed it out to Crush, who nodded. When they stopped at a bar several miles down the road, he decided to test Crush.
“Did you see that smoke back there?”
Crush narrowed his gaze “Yeah. So?”
“What did you think that was?”
He shrugged. “Campers, probably.”
“In those dense woods? How do you get back there? There are no roads that I saw.”
“Hell if I know. Maybe there are bikers camping out. I need a beer.”
Interesting that Crush blew him off, almost as if he didn’t want to continue the conversation. Diaz had caught a glimpse of a flag as they’d ridden by that spot. Maybe it was a marker of sorts. They’d breezed past it quickly, though.
He’d also made a mental note of the mile marker they passed. They might have to come back and investigate this area. It could be a hidden survivalist camp nestled back in the woods. The location was perfect—seldom traveled back road, deep in the forest, and no discernible path leading into it. Too bad they couldn’t do it now, but there was no way they could go off road without arousing Crush’s suspicion, and it was vital they get in his good graces.
Which Jessie certainly had done today.
And was still doing, making a pointed effort to ignore him and hang with Crush. Whatever. She could do what she wanted as long as it didn’t compromise the assignment. He intended to sit back, enjoy his beer, and watch.
Which was why he was the closest to the door when it banged open. He sat forward, his senses on immediate danger alert.
A group of bikers strolled in, and the first thing Diaz caught was the scowl on Crush’s face. Then the other Devil’s Skulls turned slowly around.
The tension in the room increased, and the small bar had just become way too overcrowded. The leather jackets the gang wore said Dustriders. Not good. The Dustriders were a bad gang out of Texas. Diaz was familiar with them. Half the members ended up tossed in jail at every bike rally they attended, and they made it a habit to brawl with other bikers at any opportunity.
The Dustriders didn’t play well with others.
Diaz needed to get to Jessie, to be sure she was safe. She stood next to Crush, but Spence was on the other side of her. A short shake of Spence’s head told Diaz it was a bad idea to make any sudden moves. At least Spence would be there to see to Jessie’s safety. Diaz gripped his bottle of beer, his entire body ready to spring into action.
“My guys want a beer and you’re in our way.”
That statement had been spoken by a big, burly guy. He looked like a damn wrestler, all muscle and brawn with a thick red beard and thighs like tree trunks.
Crush leaned against the bar and shrugged, seemingly unaffected. “No one’s stopping you, Meat.”
Meat? The dude’s name was Meat? Diaz resisted the urge to laugh. Probably not a good idea, all things considered.
“You’re stopping me, Crush. You and all these pansies you like to call the Skulls.”
Crush didn’t budge, seemingly unaffected by the insult. “Don’t start shit you can’t handle, Meat.”
“I can handle anything and you know it.”
“You want a beer or do you want to rumble today?”
Meat grinned. Missing a few teeth on the top, too. Nice. “I think we’ll just work up a good thirst first.”
“Okay, all of you. Take it outside.” The bartender and owner of the bar was a big enough guy on his own. “Or I’ll call the sheriff and no one will get to fight.”
This wasn’t going to go well. Diaz made eye contact with Spence, hoping Spence was a good mind reader. He wanted Jessie out of the middle of this and now. Spence inched in front of Jess. Jess frowned at Spence, then shot a mutinous glare at Diaz as if to tell him she could take care of herself.
She could be pissed at him if she wanted to, but no way would he let her get hurt. This was going to get ugly.
Crush gave a short tilt of his head. “No problem, Bill. Come on Skulls, outside.”
Diaz shot out of his chair and moved to the door. If they were going to be asked to go through initiation, they’d have to prove they deserved it. Besides, he had enough anger boiling up inside him that it would be a pleasure to release a little of it by skinning his knuckles on a few jaws.
Half the group hadn’t made it out the door before fists went flying. Meat had shoved Crush in the back, sending him sprawling onto the ground, a cloud of dirt in his wake. Crush rolled and lifted his booted foot into Meat’s ample stomach, and with a hard kick Meat crashed onto the bar’s porch, temporarily blocking the doorway.
Then all hell broke loose and Diaz could only concentrate on himself, because he was shoved through the doorway and jumped from behind. A fist connected with the side of his head, sending his anger and frustration into full-on fury. He whirled on his attacker and sent a fist into his nose. Blood spurted, the guy went down, replaced immediately by another.
It didn’t take long to figure out the Dustriders fought dirty. Fine with him. He’d grown up with street fighting. No rules—made brawling more interesting that way.
He was so occupied he couldn’t stop to look for Jess. The only thing he could hope for was that she had the sense to stay inside, though he doubted it. There were women in the parking lot tearing each other’s hair out, biting, kicking, and scratching.
He knew Jessie. No way would she meekly wait inside like a coward, because she was street tough too. She’d want to be right in the middle of this.
Opponents began to wear down. Heaving, panting breaths of exhaustion became the prominent sounds, replacing the initial battle cries.
When it became evident the Skulls weren’t going to yield the bar, the Dustriders grudgingly climbed onto their bikes and headed out, dragging their wounded with them. As soon as they were gone and the billowing dust settled, Diaz looked around for Spence. He found him near the porch, sporting a bloody lip and a wide grin.
“That was some serious f**king fun,” Spence said, glancing over Diaz. “Anything broken?”
Diaz licked his own blood off the corner of his mouth. He had some cuts and bruises, but otherwise he was fine. “Hell no. They were pussies.”
Spence laughed.
“Have you seen Jessie?”
Spence shook his head. “I was too busy kicking ass.”
“Me too.” Diaz turned in a circle, searching, finally saw her walking toward them. Dusty, her face dirty, her hair disheveled, with a wide grin on her face.
“Kick their asses, honey?” Spence asked, throwing his arm around her shoulders.
She tilted her head back and graced Spencer with a smile Diaz hadn’t seen directed at him all day long. “You know it.”
Spence kissed her on the forehead. Diaz sighed, then masked his emotions as Crush came toward them.
“Y’all are good fighters,” Crush said, extending his hand to shake theirs.
“Hey, it was fun,” Spence said. “We get bored if there’s no ass to kick.”
Crush laughed. “That’s what I like to hear.”
They went back into the bar, cleaned up a bit, and really enjoyed their beers. By the time the sun had set, they’d made their way back to the rally and the main drag, goosing their engines as they rode up and down the street, much to the delight of the crowds lining the sidewalks. Bikers by the thousands rode well into the night hours, stopping occasionally at bars along the way—if they could manage to find a parking place. Crush and his gang seemed to be content to simply ride and be seen. Diaz could almost believe Crush was looking for something, or maybe someone, but they finally broke off when the crowds began to die down. They closed down the street, the Devil’s Skulls one of the last gangs left.
“I need to find Rex,” Crush said. “He and a few of the others went riding north into one of the other towns. Said there was a hot babe review at one of the bars. Wanna come?” Crush asked them.
“Sounds great to me,” Spence said.
“Me too,” Jessie chimed in with a teasing grin. “But only if the review includes guys.”
Diaz shook his head. Hadn’t she had enough for the day, or was she deliberately trying to provoke him? Knowing Jess, it was probably the latter.
Crush laughed. “Not sure about that. I think it’s all girls, but there’ll be plenty of guys there watching.”
“Good enough for me,” she said. “I’m in.”
That was Diaz’s cue to put an end to Jessie’s bullshit. “I don’t think so.”
“You’re not coming along, Diaz?” Jessie asked.
“No. I mean you aren’t going either.”
“Huh. Last time I looked I was over twenty-one. And you aren’t my dad.”
“And I’m taking that as a clue to hightail it the hell out of here before there’s more bloodshed. Let’s ride.” Crush took off and the rest of them followed, leaving Diaz and Jessie on a side street, staring at each other.
“Let’s go back to the hotel.”
She shook her head. “I think we should go with Crush.”
“I think Spence has it covered. You and I need to talk.”
“Is that an order?”
She was really pushing it, but if that’s how she wanted to play it . . . “As a matter of fact, it is.”
She shrugged, started up her bike and they rode back to the hotel.
Jessie didn’t speak to him on the ride or on the elevator to the room, instead staying a couple of steps ahead of him, using her key to walk into the room. She tossed her things onto the desk without a backward glance in his direction. With every silent step she took, Diaz’s temper rose.
“Enough, Jessie.”
Ignoring him, she peeled off her jacket and sat on the bed, toeing off her boots, concentrating her attention on her feet. She wouldn’t even look at him. Diaz shrugged out of his jacket and threw it over a chair, crossing his arms as he stood in front of her, willing her to make eye contact.
She didn’t. Instead, she grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom. He heard the shower turn on.
Fine. They both needed to clean up after that brawl at the bar today. He’d wait her out, but he wasn’t going to let this go. Instead, he paced the room, trying to block out visuals of her na**d in the shower, water streaming down her body in rivulets, then stepping out to smooth lotion over her creamy skin.
Okay, that wasn’t helping. She’d hardly take him seriously as her superior if he had a raging hard-on when he talked to her. He focused instead on the mission, on everything they’d discovered so far, on questions unanswered. Like that flag and the smoke he’d spotted today.
Jessie opened the door. The scent of her shampoo filled the room as she walked by. He yanked clean clothes out of the drawer and went into the bathroom, took a hot shower, finishing it off with cool water to clear his head. When he came out, she was sitting on the bed, staring at the darkness outside.
“We need to talk.”
No answer. She stood and inched around him, heading toward the bathroom again. Oh, no, she wasn’t going to hide anymore. He grabbed her wrist before she could slip by.
“Jessie.”
She stopped, angled her head so her gaze met his.
“What?”
“Sit down.”
“Is this about work?”
“Yes.”
“Fine, then.” She took a seat at the foot of the bed.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
She stood and walked toward the bathroom again. “We’re done.”
He blocked her way. “We’re not done. Sit down.”
“You said we were going to talk about work. That wasn’t work.”
