Bewitching The Biker (Royal Bastards MC: Charleston, WV 7)

I pull up to the garagethat sits to the left of my Gram’s white single story, three-bedroom house and shut off my car. The lawn is overrunning with dead vines and fallen leaves. Gram has enough animal and gnome statues scattered about to be considered a hoarder of lawn ornaments. My biker stalker, that’s what I’m currently calling him, parks behind me. His engine cuts and I know I can’t delay getting out. I don’t want the neighbors calling Gram and alerting her that I brought a biker hottie home with me in the middle of the day. Not that its anything like that. Not even close.

I go to open my door and he’s right here opening it for me.

“I can open my own door, but thanks.”

Resting a forearm on the roof, he leans in too close for comfort, giving me another whiff of his cologne. I have to stop myself from inhaling deep and savoring the scent like a freak. “You going to invite me in, darlin’, or are we going to sit out here all day and give the neighbors something to talk about?” He nods over his shoulder at Mrs. Robinson. She’s lived next to Gram as long as I can remember and she’s nosier than all get out.

“This shouldn’t take but a few minutes. We could exchange numbers, and I can call you if I find out anything.”

“I’m good. Got my orders.”

“Which are?”

“To keep an eye on you and assist you if need be.”

“I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Maybe not, but if Mariah is in with the shit, I think she is, you’ll want me around.”

“I can handle myself.”

“You planning to hex everyone.”

I roll my lips inward to keep from saying something rude.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“Right,” he mutters and finally moves, allowing me to exit my car.

I fiddle with my keys, trying to locate the right one to unlock Gram’s front door as I lead him along the wooden walkway. On the porch he towers over me like a giant.

“Do you mind?” I stare up at him, the back of my head hitting his chest.

The white of his teeth flashes at me. Sandman stares back at me with this intensity in his green eyes, that remind me of olives. His bottom lip rolls inward as his tongue darts out to lick it. My heart pounds in my chest. “Not at all,” he says, all smoky and gritty sounding, tempting me to pull him down by his face for an upside-down kiss.

Mercy me he smells too damn good.

“You got a name, witch?”

I blink at his question, remembering I should be unlocking the door. Only he slides a hand down my throat keeping me in place. “Tell me something, kitten. Have you ever kissed an outlaw?”

I suck in a breath and close my eyes, wanting to do exactly that.

“Is your Gram home?” Mrs. Robinson interrupts now standing at the edge of her driveway and ours wearing a leopard print mumu trimmed with black lace and matching fuzzy slippers. Her blue grey hair pinned with curlers. The woman has no shame.

I sigh and my biker stalker chuckles.

“She’s at the store,” I answer and shove the key in the lock, giving the knob a twist.

I hurry the two of us inside before she can ask more questions.

The woodsy scent of rosemary assaults my senses. Gram must be making more oil. She puts a few drops in her water. Says it helps with her memory. Not that she needs any help in that department. She’s sharper than a tack.

Sandman wipes his boots on the mat before shutting the door behind him. Who knew outlaws were house trained?

“My room is at the end of the hall.” I corral him past the embarrassing school photos on display in the living room.

“Is it just you and your Gram?”

“I have my own place over the shop,” I volunteer and immediately want to kick myself for over-sharing.

“You never told me your name.”

“Bianca. My friends call me Binx for short.” I enter my room. It’s not been touched since I moved out. Nor has it been updated since I was in middle school. “Just sit on the bed and don’t touch anything.”

“What are you looking for anyway?” he ignores me, going straight to my bookcase.

“A bracelet. I’ll find it. You don’t know what it looks like.”

“Would help if you told me.”

“Are you always this annoying and pushy?”

“You always a bitch?”

“You don’t have to be here. You’re free to go any time.”

“You’ll probably put another curse on me.”

“You think I put a hex on you?” I roll my eyes.

“Would explain my bad luck,” he mutters with a shrug.

“I didn’t put a curse on you. I’m not a witch.”

“Yeah okay, then what’s this?” He holds up a glass jar.

“Let me see that.” I go to reach for it, but he holds it up over his head out of my reach forcing me to jump. I grab at his muscular arm but he’s too strong and tall for me to overpower.

“What’s a matter can’t use your powers now.” His other arm wraps around my back and he pulls me flush against his body.

I gaze up at him as he smirks all cocky and proud.

The scent of his cologne invades my nose and my insides get all hot and melty. I don’t want to be attracted to the jerk but I am.

I do the only thing I can think of to escape his hold before he tries to kiss me. I grab his crotch and whisper, “Astra inclinant. Sed non obligant.” The phrase means the stars incline us, but they don’t bind us. I picked it up from one of my Gram’s books. But speaking in Latin seems to scare the shit out of him. It’s kind of fun.

Sandman releases the jar, and it hits the hardwood floor, shattering.

“The fuck did you do to my dick? Take it back,” he growls.

I laugh and bend down to see what was in the jar. I shake my head when I recall exactly what this was. My love spell. I had forgotten all about it.

“I knew you fucking hexed my ass.” He squats in front of me and goes for the heart charm. “Damn it,” he lets out a hiss, sucking his thumb into his mouth.

“What’d you do?”