Shane (Mallick Brothers 1)

There wasn’t even a flicker of life.

Not even a click.

It was the deadest kind of dead.

That was just great. Just wonderful. Really, the cherry on the pie of my week.

I sat there for a minute as the world threw a fit around me, trying to consider my options. I could go back into the office. It was right there. Maybe I could even lock myself up in a back room away from the windows or something. But the power was out. It was going to get cold sooner or later. I didn’t know how long I would be stuck there, how long hurricanes blew for. Really, it wasn’t that far home. If I did it at a dead run, which, well, was the only way to do it even in good weather, it would take me less than ten minutes. Then I could be locked up with warm, dry clothes and cabinets full of food.

It wasn’t much of a choice to make really.

I would be hoofing it.

I threw my bag into my back seat, knowing it would only get wet and heavy and slow me down. Then I got out of the car, barely taking a second to lock it before I started running. The rain was frigid and unrelenting. Soaked took on a whole new meaning as I rounded my way out of the industrial part of town. The wind was another nemesis, trying its best to slow me down, to throw me up against every building I passed. But it was okay. It wasn’t that far. I would be fine.

Just fine.

The sound of a motorcycle closing in on me had my stomach clenching hard and my heart lodging itself up into my throat. When it rumbled beside me, it took everything I had not to scream prematurely. But I swallowed it back and looked over and, well, it wasn’t who I thought.

No.

But I suddenly very much understood why Fee told me the local biker gang was good looking.

Because, holy hell.

Tall, dark, and dangerous. That was how you described a man like him. Handsome went without saying.

“Babe…” he said, shaking his head at me. “You really thought a hurricane was a good time for a run?” he asked, lips tipping up and I wasn’t exactly unaffected.

“I was at work. My car died. I don’t live far from here.” I had no idea why I gave him all that information; it just slipped out.

Habit, maybe.

“My name is Reign,” he said, moving to gesture behind him. “Won’t be a luxury ride, but I can get you home faster.”

I paused, hemming and hawing the idea of getting home faster as well as the safety level of a bike in that kind of weather and the fact that I knew it was probably not a good idea to take a ride from a complete stranger.

Then, out of nowhere, a giant truck pulled up beside Reign’s bike. The engine stayed on and the door opened and slammed shut and I had a very strong feeling of ‘this is what you get when you talk to strange men’, sure they were about to snatch me, throw me in the back of that truck, and sell me into some freaking human trafficking ring or some shit.

It happened all the time.

I’d seen the news stories.

That was my worry for about two whole seconds before I saw Shane freaking Mallick round the front of the truck and look between us. “Reign, all due respect, fuck off,” he said to the biker, a warning clear in his voice.

But it obviously fell on unconcerned ears because Reign’s lips tipped up into a devilish little smirk, his light green eyes dancing slightly. “That’s the way it is, huh?” he asked, glancing over at Shane.

“That’s the way it is,” Shane agreed.

“Sure Mark would agree with that?” Reign went on.

To that, despite everything about Shane seeming tense, borderline angry, his lips split into a wicked smile. “You sure you wanna go there, Reign?”

“Ah, I think there’s been enough blood spilled today,” Reign said, then turned to give me a melt-your-panties once-over. “Shame,” he said to me, then looked to Shane again. “Don’t fuck it up.”

“That a threat?”

“Just saying’. Shouldn’t go to waste.”

With that, he pulled away and we stood there for a tense second watching him disappear as the rain poured down our faces. “Let’s go,” Shane said unexpectedly, making me jump.

“Ah, thanks but no thanks.”

I really, really didn’t need to be anywhere near him right then. Or ever again. I had spent the week trying to convince myself that it was no big deal. It was just sex. Sex was sex unless both parties wanted it to be more. I didn’t. Or, at least, that was what I was telling myself. The sex was great. I had been expecting it to be pretty spectacular, but it seemed to surpass my expectations. And my body, ready for a feast after the famine, had been demanding more ever since. But that couldn’t be.