Savage Outlaw (Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga Book 8) Page 3

  Again, his gut tightened because it brought a picture of a family scene in his mind he’d rather not entertain. Fucking impossible.

  “Seen her maybe once or twice in the last month or so. She’s different.” Marcel blew out smoke. “She’s got confidence, walks in like she owns the place, doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t ask for anything. She plays, wins some, then she takes off.”

  From the sounds of it, Marcel was a little in love with this mysterious chick. Butcher shifted on his feet and saw Reaper in the doorway, eyeballing him.

  “What? Is she cheating then?”

  He met the brother halfway. “Not as far as I can tell. She’s good though. She’s up about twelve grand right now.”

  It was about the same time he heard a room full of groaning and cursing. Sounded like the woman was winning again and the other high flyers didn’t like it.

  “Butcher, come and take a look.” Reaper said in his native New Zealand accent.

  He gave Butcher a look so intense that he thought the ghost was trying to subliminally tunnel into his brain. He followed and Reaper stood to the side once they got to the room next door.

  Circular tables filled the room. Smoke lingering in the atmosphere and a lot of money piled into the middle of each set.

  But no one held Butcher’s attention as the last table down the other end did.

  He knew right away why Reaper called him through.

  His entire body—bones, muscles and sinew became arrested in watching a table. A woman threw a handful of chips into the center, not even looking at her cards face down. Her eyes were sharp, gloating beneath those midnight dark lashes like she knew she was onto a winner and those other schmucks were about to lose big. She didn’t glance away. She didn’t back down from the intimidation pulsing her way from men twice her size.

  Long sable hair caught back in a ponytail, sleek and inviting.

  With her neck arched, smiling at someone across the table as he debated what to bet, Butcher skimmed his eyes over her lips glossed with metallic blue color to match the not-too-long nails tapping on the tabletop. Silver rings adorned her fingers, silver hoops in rows of three and four decorated her ears. She had a silver stud in one side of her nose and an arm of tattoos. The white tank top showcased her slim, rangy figure, small but full breasts and her legs encased in tight denim. He couldn’t see her footwear, but he’d bet the house that it was boots.

  She loved boots of all kinds.

  When she tipped her head back with glee as she won the pot in the middle, the ponytail swished. He knew how those strands of hair felt in his hands. Soft like silk.

  Fucking hell.

  What was Roux doing at one of their tables?

  But he knew what she was doing.

  She was a card shark. She would be a career gambler if she could. She was damn good at it too.

  No wonder Marcel’s tables were short today if Roux was here. She’d bleed the den dry before the day was out if allowed to.

  “So, you want me to kick this bitch out, or what?” Murmured Marcel. The dick for brains broke the spell as Butcher whirled around, pinning the guy with the sheer force of his dark stare. “You touch her, and I’ll break every fucking bone in your body, really fucking slowly, then I’ll reset them so I can break them again, you got it?”

  Beside him, Reaper chuckled. “I think he means no, Marcel. Go get the money ready, we’ll deal with this.”

  Giving Butcher a wide berth, the gambling manager backed away. Aware of what a threat from a Souls could bring to him. Not just the loss of his bodily functions but he’d lose this job too.

  Butcher switched his gaze back in time to watch Roux rising from the chair. The pulse of heat shot through him like a twister intent on destruction. It ranged through his body until all that was left was a lungful of air. And a massive need. Making his fingers ache to grab her ponytail so he could bend her neck back and force a kiss out of that fucking lush mouth.

  Instantly his eyes went down to her hands.

  No diamond ring to indicate she was taken.

  Was Arson wrong? Did his drunken brain hear wrong?

  Suddenly all he could think about was finding out the answer.

  He had to know more than he needed to breathe.

  A shift in the air.

  A pulse of awareness meant her eyes lifted in that second and she saw him braced in the doorway.

  She paused and inhaled hard enough he watched her tits rising through the thin shirt.

  There it is. That feeling of rightness he always got when he put eyes on Roux.

  It’s as though a thunderclap of static energy went through the room.

  He felt it over the surface of his skin and if her slack lipped gasp was an indication, then she felt it too.

  Eyes the color of violets, they widened when she realized Butcher was right there. Her feet kept her rooted in the same way he was stuck in place. A cyclone of lust blowing in the space separating them.

  Drawn as always to the woman who had an invisible fist around his heart.

  They didn’t have a bitter relationship. She shouldn’t be feeling anything for him if she’s engaged to someone else. But there’s a flash of anguish in her features that almost buckled his knees and forced him to go to her.

  Her violet eyes in those few seconds relayed every short memory they had between them. His muscles were extra tight under his skin, watching her gazing back at him, he’s locked in a place of his own making.

  Wanting.

  Aching.

  Hitting him in places he wished were hollowed out and empty of feelings. Because that would mean this one woman—the only woman who existed for him, wouldn’t have such a fucking claw hold on him.

  He could never regret the feelings for her.

  It was instant as it was shocking.

  Some would call it insanity.

  Butcher had his fair share of women over the years, in all varieties. He had a couple of stable relationships in his early twenties, but no one held a candle to her. It was as though she’d ripped everyone else out of his existence and left it like confetti at his feet.

  Those lavender eyes owned him now as they did four years ago.

  Where it all fucking started.

  She became the starring role of his misery and his awakening.

  He didn’t know at the time it was with a little girl too damn young for his tongue or his hands. But that night, four years ago, Roux Tucker crashed into his life and demanded everything from him.

  It almost led to his death, but he’d do it over and over and over.

  She only had to demand it from him again.

  FOUR

  “Damned by a cookie.” - Butcher

  Four years ago

  When a Ford Raptor comes into contact with a Jeep, it’s the Jeep that’s worse off.

  Luckily for Butcher, the vehicle that backed into him only gave him a slight jolt.

  He put his truck in park and slid out to check the damage. As he thought, barely a scratch on the black paintwork, so he set his eyes on the driver of the Jeep and he nearly lost his fucking tongue.

  She was beautiful.

  And scowling at him.

  Walking around the Jeep, the headlight would need replacing, and a bit of damage to the paintwork. She fared okay too for her Mario Karting. He strode back to the driver’s side and knocked on the window. It whirled down. And he was hit with twin violet eyes. Lust, dark and solid grabbed hold of Butcher by the throat.

  “You okay?” He asked her. She didn’t look hurt, but he wasn’t such a dickhead that he’d leave without making sure she was fine.

  Without warning, the door swung open and about took out his ability to ever have kids one day. If not for his quick feet making him move. And the goddess stepped down. With her heeled boots that rode up to her knees over skintight jeans, she came up to his shoulder and made Butcher’s mouth water.

  “Didn’t you see me? You practically mowed me down.” She hissed and the b
urst of temper had one side of his mouth quirking.

  The spitfire had spunk.

  She again bowled him over when she pushed by him to survey the damage for herself. She set his gut on fire with her gorgeous frown. Butcher crossed his ankles and leaned his arm on top of her Jeep.

  “You backed into me, I was stationary, it’s not like my truck can hide. Were you on your phone?”

  She looked college age—early twenties at least.

  “I was not on the phone,” she gasped, eyes narrowed, hands on her slim hips. Butcher didn’t hide the fact he liked what he was looking at when he roamed his eyes down her long body. She was glowering when he reached her face. “Don’t worry about it, I know a garage that can fix this little dent you caused.”

  She groaned and looked to the sky. “My dad is going to kill me for wrecking another car.”

  He arched a brow. “Another?”

  “That wasn’t my fault either,” she insisted. Ah, man, she was perfect.

  He never knew what to do with a sweet, shy girl. This woman had so much fire he was tempted to stick his fingers deep into the flames and enjoy the burn.

  “I bet,” he smirked. Watching her lips turn from the scowl into a little grin that transformed her face into something that stole the breath out of Butcher. “It’s not bad, I can get it fixed in an hour. You wanna follow me to the garage?”

  Her perfect brow popped up and she jutted out her hip so fucking sassily he felt his jeans tighten. Man, when had he ever wanted to maul a woman with his mouth this fast? Never. He liked to chase, to sample taste and then came the mauling. But this woman had him thinking immoral things on top of the hood of her busted Jeep.

  “Sure, I’ll stand meekly while you kill me too.” She said and Butcher burst out laughing. He reached into his back pocket and brought out his wallet attached to the chain. He flipped open his ID and showed her his name, address.

  “Thaddeus? You do not look like a Thaddeus.”

  “Yeah, blame my dad for that one, he thought that shit was funny.”

  “Don’t tell me you have a brother called Judas?”

  This chick was quick. He liked that a lot.

  “Only child. You can call me Butcher. And you are?”

  “Roux.” He wished she’d offered out a hand so he could touch her.

  Because that wasn’t fucking creepy at all, man.

  He got his thoughts under control, even when it became clear that she was checking him out in a way that got his skin sensitive.

  “Where is this garage?”

  “Not far, the Renegade Souls compound.”

  Her features altered. It was slight and masked in the next second, but Butcher caught it and wondered why. They had reputations, sure. But they weren’t dangerous to women.

  “You work there?” She asked, biting on her lip. She cranked her head to the side, watching him like she was seeing him for the first time all over again. This time with the skin of his brotherhood on him.

  Butcher loved being a Renegade Souls, he would never deny that shit to anyone because it wouldn’t be true.

  Did he get tail because of who he was? Absolutely. This might be the first time ever since he got patched in that a woman was hesitant because of that association.

  “I’m patched in, babe.” He opened his jacket slightly to show her his patch on the front of his cut. Her eyes came back up to his and he felt a swallow stick in his throat.

  Was she scared? Fuck. He backed up. “You can stay in your car, I’ll get one of my boys out here to load it up, you wanna call someone?”

  “No, it’s fine, I can follow you there.”

  “You’re safe, babe, yeah? I’m only gonna get your car fixed.”

  She sent him the hottest fucking smile he’d ever seen, and some of her confidence oozed back onto her face. “I know where you live, Thaddeus.” She then snapped a picture of him and walked up to his Raptor and took a picture of the license plate.

  Smart and beautiful. Damn, he might like this woman.

  “I’m not saying I don’t trust you, biker, but I’ve sent those pics to my friend and they’ll expect to hear from me in an hour.”

  Butcher grinned, inclining his head. “Smart and beautiful.”

  “Oh, please.” She rolled her pretty eyes and slipped back into her car but not before he saw her eyes checking him out again.

  The journey was quick, and she pulled in alongside him. Her smile was gone when she climbed out and sent her gaze around the large courtyard.

  He didn’t want her nervous, not at all. Not because of him or his club. He had intentions of getting this woman’s number as soon as he got her car looked over.

  “Can I get the keys, babe?”

  She handed them over and Butcher whistled to a prospect who ran over, “Yeah, boss?”

  “Take this through and ask Preacher to fit it in asap. Tell him it’s a favor for me.” She was watching Butcher when he turned back around, and he didn’t hate the attention.

  Her eyes were fucking intoxicating, like looking up at the stars. Lined in that black stuff women wore, and glitter dusted her lids. With metallic gold on her lips. The row of jewelry in her ears and the bangles hanging off her thin wrist, she was every rock chick wet dream sprung to life in front of him.

  He wanted to use her long ponytail swinging high on her scalp as an anchor, to tip her head back and claim those fucking lips tempting him to a land of sin.

  There was no other logical reason why he was barraged with feelings other than he ached to crowd her up against his ride. Have her taste inside his mouth, feeling those long nails digging into his scalp. God, he bet she’d claw him up.

  Before he scared her with his arousal, he half turned his body and smiled at her. “You sure you’re not hurt? I’m a trained EMT, I can check you over. Did you bang your head at all?”

  “You’re a biker EMT? Huh. Makes sense if you patch up your boys, keeps them off the radar by not going to a hospital.”

  It was exactly that but the easy way she said it had Butcher’s head cranking down, observing her closer than he had before.

  Impressed and intrigued.

  “You know bikers?”

  She shrugged and moved the bangles around her wrist. “A few.”

  He wanted to know in what way.

  He wanted to know if she had a man.

  And why was his gut burning hot at the thought of someone else tasting those lips of hers?

  Before he could ask, she lifted her chin. “Seeing as my car is stuck here for a while, do you have coffee and something to eat around this place? You running me off the road made me miss lunch.”

  Oh, this girl. He chuckled and pointed to the entryway.

  “I’ll get you fed.” She got in step with him and he turned his head to watch her. He couldn’t stop watching her. “But you backed into me, babe.”

  She huffed. “That’s your story, biker. I practically tumbled down the road after your monster truck plowed into me.”

  He cracked up laughing. “Fuck, you’re a tough cookie who doesn’t back down from anything, aren’t you?”

  She smiled, sly and devilish and Butcher felt a booming inside his head.

  “It’s a woman’s world, we’re only waiting for you slow men to realize that.”

  Butcher groaned. He found himself fighting a smile.

  She wasn’t hesitant when he ushered her into the clubhouse first. She held her head high, glancing around curious like and sashayed in. He got the sense she was comfortable in that environment.

  He got her some food and a bucket load of coffee. She didn’t stand on ceremony by getting rid of both. He loved to see a woman eat. Really eat, not nibbling on a lettuce leaf and claiming she’s full.

  Brushing her fingers on a napkin, she pushed the plate away.

  She was clever and funny, with a dry biting wit that Butcher dug. The conversation hadn’t stalled once. No offense to the chicks that came through those doors most weekends, but some were airheads
with only dicks and money on the brain.

  Butcher liked his dick sucked as well as the next man, but he’d be lying if he said the chat with Roux wasn’t stimulating too.

  It kept his head out of the gutter, that is.

  She touched him a lot, he noted. His wrist, fingers, a slow touch on his arm. When she laughed, she put her whole body against his. Thank fuck he pushed their chairs together or he would have missed out on that.

  Then there were the looks from under her long lashes. Not sly, she wasn’t hesitant in looking at him. Those extreme looks scraped the inside of his chest lining with need.

  Need to push her down on the table and discover how she tasted when she was aroused.

  Not for nothing, Butcher was having a great time, he was glad she had shit driving skills, because he would have hated to miss out on meeting her.

  He did not expect the goddess to push up from her chair and put herself in his lap.

  All the blood rushed from Butcher’s head down to his cock.

  “Kiss me already, god. I can’t take the hungry looks any longer.” She told him with boldness. Her breath fanning his face and her eyes … fuck, her eyes could seduce any man and they trained on him.

  Then he kissed her.

  A growl gurgling at the back of his throat, he took her lips like he’d been starving for his whole life waiting for a kiss like this one.

  Her mouth offered him everything Butcher didn’t know he’d needed and now was dying for.

  She was a breath. A yearning.

  Her mouth parted so inviting and he dove in with his tongue.

  When her taste filled his mouth, the ticking bomb inside his head intensified. It only grew louder as her fingers speared into his hair and kissed him back like she was meant to kiss only him.

  Like she needed his flavor drenching her mouth in the same way.

  She moaned.

  Butcher grunted his arousal, holding the back of her head to keep her right there. And when her mouth opened again, he pushed in to chase her tongue.