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Exquisite Trouble

By:Ann Mayburn

upt her made my dick hard as fuck, and my breath caught as I thought about Swan’s graceful throat wearing my collar and her killer body wearing my patch.

My phone rang and snapped me out of my trance. I answered it and tried to ignore the guilty heat that burned my face as I stared at a pair of her pink lace panties hanging half out of her hamper and how badly I wanted to wrap them around my cock while I jerked off.

“What’s up?”

“Smoke?” The raspy voice on the other end of the call was Beach, President of the Iron Horse MC and one of my best friends. “Anything?”

Part of me wanted to snap that if I’d fucking found anything I would have fucking contacted him, but even as the Sergeant at Arms of the Iron Horse MC I knew better than to lip off to the Prez, especially now. “Nope, nothing new.”

A long stream of swearing came from Beach before he finally said, “Keep an eye on her tonight. One of our informants said there’s a rumor going around the bounty on her mom from those fucking Russians in Las Vegas has been upped. Who knows what dumb fucks might come after Swan now in an effort to find her mom. And don’t forget how much the Russians would love to pimp out a beautiful girl like Swan to pay off her mama’s debt.”

Now it was my turn to curse. “Is that why you want me to bring her in?”

“Yeah. I was hoping Sarah would go to Swan for help, but it’s been two weeks and things are only getting more dangerous for Swan. She needs to go off the grid, and soon.”

As I stared at Swan’s bed, I fought a battle with myself. The small, good guy part of me that my mom and dad had tried so hard to nurture insisted that I should just fucking walk away, that I should give Swan’s protection over to Vance, but I couldn’t. The selfish, tainted part of my soul urged me to tell Beach that I was bringing Swan home with me—for her own protection, of course—right the fuck now. Yeah, having her in my home, in my bed, was totally for her safety.

Even I didn’t believe that bullshit.

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Let’s give it a couple more days before we bring her in.” He sighed. “I know Swan and Sarah don’t always get along, but my old lady loves her. If anything happened to Swan while Sarah’s … gone … and I could have prevented it, she’d never forgive me.”

I strode over to the window and took a quick glimpse of the slowly darkening sky before letting the frilly lace curtain fall back into place. “I’m going to head out to her club.”

“You talked to her yet?”

“No, not yet. She’s skittish. I don’t want to freak her out and scare her off.”

I didn’t add that I was unusually nervous around her as well. For the past two nights I sat in her section of the titty bar where she worked, sporting my cut and waited for her to say something to me. I know Sarah said her sister had no idea about the MC life, that Swan was about as sheltered as you could get, but I kept hoping she’d ask me about it. I’d seen her gaze roving over the patches of my vest, but there was no recognition. Not like the sluts that worked at her club. Those bitches saw who I am, and they were all over me like flies on shit. Even though Iron Horse is based in Austin, we’ve got a branch in Houston as well and we’re tight with most of the local motorcycle clubs that run different portions of Houston.

“Well keep an eye on her, man. She’s one of the only links we have to that fucking bitch-ass-crack-whore-skank mother of hers.”

“Got it.”

Beach hung up on me—he wasn’t big on goodbyes—and I strode through Swan’s house, reset her security system and let myself out the back door. While I was inside, night had started to fall. There was still enough light to see by as I opened the garage at the stakeout place I’d bought, wheeled my bike out, and shut it again. The air was still thick with humidity and I found myself wishing I could go swimming in the spring-fed river behind my house.

Beach’s info about the bounty on Swan made my gut clench and I had to resist the urge to call Vance again. My boys were the best of the best at security, all either former military or, ironically enough, law enforcement, and all of ’em were members of Iron Horse MC. We didn’t exactly operate on the right side of the law—our protection had been used for some less than honorable purposes—but it had made us all rich, so I couldn’t fucking complain.

As I drove down the street, my mind was once again focused totally on Swan, and the anticipation heating my blood had me roaring onto the freeway, eager to get close enough to her to see the flecks of silver in her bluer-than-blue eyes.

Yeah, I was fucking whipped, and even more pathetic, I was whipped by a girl who didn’t even know my name.

I weaved my way through traffic and ignored the stares of the civilians as I let my mind fill with dreams of a woman who could really use a fucking hero to save her right now, but instead, she got stuck with me. I’m more of the villain in the story—the one that you fear hovering behind you in a dark alley—certainly not the guy who should be the one rescuing the beautiful princess. But she didn’t need a prince; right now, she needed a warrior. And while I might not ever write her poetry, I would kill for her.

Of that, there was no doubt.

Chapter 2


He was here again, the Spanish god in mortal form, watching me with eyes so dark they looked almost solid black in the flashing lights from the various stages set up around the strip club. As usual, he sat in my section, ordering only water and the occasional soda, as relaxed and casual as could be. Dressed in his customary black t-shirt and faded jeans with a thick, black leather belt and his wallet on a chain, he took my breath away. He also wore a black leather vest covered in patches, and he oozed a raw animal sex appeal that caught every woman around him in its orbit. He had the bone structure of someone with Aztec blood in their background, a bold nose, killer chee