Joy (Hell's Handlers MC 7)

“Good thinking.” For someone so obviously rich and sheltered, she sure rolled with the punches well.

Hand in hand, they walked into the lobby of the motel, checking-in with cash as Mr. and Mrs. Dickerson from Wyoming. The clerk handed them an key with a large rectangular plastic keychain. A peeling number seven sticker indicated their room. Cassie played her part perfectly. As soon as they entered the lobby, she kissed his cheek and moseyed on over to the brochure display. Try as he might, Viper couldn’t stop the rush of blood to his cock as her soft lips brushed his stubbled face.

The clerk was slow as shit, but Cassie had managed to look interested in what the area had to offer the entire fifteen minutes it took to get a damn reservation. After securing a room, Viper moved his bike, parking right outside the room so Sarge could find them easily. He should be rolling into town within the next few minutes.

Once they arrived at their room, it took a few seconds to work the key into the rusted lock. Once he finally had the door unlocked, Viper opened it to reveal a very unimpressive motel room. He suppressed a chuckle. In her most terrifying nightmares, Cassie probably never imagined herself staying in a place with stained yellow walls, the distinct odor of stale cigarettes, and faded bedding.

“After you, m’lady,” Viper said, sweeping his arm in a grand gesture.

With a giggle, Cassie marched on into the room. Slowly, she spun. “Nice place.” Her eyes sparkled, and playfulness was evident in her voice. “Though it’s about a thousand times better than where I was headed, so I’m pretty damn happy to be here with you.” The teasing expression turned into one of sincere gratitude.

Damn, she kept surprising him. He’d at least expected a wrinkled nose or a shudder at the accommodations. Looked like he had a lot to learn about the rich girl he’d rescued.

As though driven by an invisible force, he walked to her. He’d only had the barest of touches, yet his hands itched to feel her skin once again. “You don’t need this anymore,” he said, sliding his hands into her hood and drawing it off her head. She kept her mesmerizing green gaze locked with his as he worked her long hair out of the sweatshirt. This time, he didn’t even try to pretend he wasn’t touching her on purpose. He stroked the pads of his fingertips along her neck, tracing her hairline.

A soft puff of air left her lips, and she quivered as she’d done in the parking lot.

“That tickles,” she whispered.

“Yeah?” He took a step closer. All he had to do was bend a few inches forward, and those gloss-free lips would be his. For the first time since he started having sex at fifteen, he hesitated. She was a goddamned virgin. A virgin who’d been kidnapped, roughed up, and sold. He might have saved her before they raped her, but still, she probably wasn’t feeling too great about men at the moment. “Want me to stop?”

Her eyes drifted shut. “No. Definitely don’t stop. It tickles in a good way. In a tingly—"

“Well, shit, didn’t think I’d be a third fucking wheel.”

Cassie’s eyes flew open as she jumped away from Viper.

Shit. Viper turned to find Sarge standing with his shoulder propped against the door frame, arms crossed, and a shit-eating grin on his face. Viper sent an apologetic smile Cassie’s way before running his hand down his face. Nothing he could do to hide the damn boner tenting his jeans.

Christ, he hadn’t even closed the damn door. Whatever fascination he was developing with Cassie was causing him to lose sight of the big picture.

Safety and protection. He couldn’t neglect simple shit like closing and locking doors. At some point, the club would realize they’d been played. He and Sarge needed to remain vigilant at all times.

“Hey, brother,” he said. “Any trouble getting out of town?”

Sarge shook his head, but his focus was squarely on Cassie, whose face was an adorable shade of red.

“Sarge this is Cassie. Cas, Sarge.”

“Hi, Sarge,” she squeaked. “I know it’s not nearly adequate, but thank you.”

With a nod for her, Sarge strode into the room. He made a big production of closing and locking the door. Viper rolled his eyes at his brother. If possible, Cassie’s face turned an even deeper shade of red.

“Ain’t a thing, doll,” Sarge said with a wink for Cassie, as though they’d helped load her groceries in her trunk instead of rescuing her from sex traffickers.

“So everything went as planned?” Viper asked. Cassie took a step closer to him. Then another. And one more until her shoulder bumped his. And, damn, if he didn’t like the fuck out of that. Meant she felt safe with him. Wanted to be near him. Maybe it was just the high stress of the situation, but he had the distinct urge to puff out his chest and beat his fists against it, Tarzan-style. Instead, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tucked her against him.