Rocket (Hell's Handlers MC 5)

Chloe also had a few chances to hang with the ol’ ladies of the MC. Once at the clubhouse, and twice at Toni and Zach’s place. She was officially as smitten with them as she was with Logan, though in vastly different ways. Not one of the women pressed her to talk about her kidnapping, yet there was a kinship and understanding between them. Each woman was a pillar of strength in her own way despite having some triggers due to past distressing experiences. Izzy’s triggers tended more toward a rage-filled reaction as opposed to fear or panic, but none had made it to the stages they were without some form of traumatic ordeal.

Despite the fun two weeks, reality still existed, mostly in the form of Chloe being sick of the few outfits she’d brought to Logan’s and needing some additional files on a new client. That meant a trip to her neglected little house.

Rocket swung home after work on Friday evening and picked her up, which meant she got to ride the thirty-minute trip to her house on the back of his bike. An activity she’d totally fallen in love with. Not much surpassed the feeling of freedom and euphoria she experienced wrapped around Logan as he cruised the mountain roads.

“Man, that gets better every time,” Chloe said as she tugged off the helmet. Smoothing a hand down her long braid, she tamed the flyaways that sprung out no matter how tight she worked the strands. As much as Logan proclaimed to love her hair down, she refused to wear it that way on the bike. She’d made that mistake only once. It’d taken her hours to work the tangles out of her thick strands. Hours she’d much rather spend naked in bed with Logan. Once she’d presented that argument, he no longer gave her grief about riding with a braid. If only all their disagreements were that easy to win.

“You’re a natural,” he said with a swat on her ass.

She giggled and swatted him right back.

“Hey!” he said as he lunged for her.

With another laugh she tried to jump out of the way, but was no match for his speed. In the blink of an eye he had her over his shoulder, his palm cracking against her ass once again. “Only one of us is allowed to do any spanking. You hear me?”

“Hmm,” Chloe said. Despite the blood rushing to her head, she couldn’t really complain about the position he had her in. Not when she had an up close and personal view of his very fine ass. “I hear you. I’m not allowed to spank.” Her braid swung back and forth like a pendulum, only inches from the ground. A smirk curled her lips. “Guess I’ll just be doing this instead.” Before he had a chance to react, she pinched what she could grab of his ass. It wasn’t much; the damn man had a damn hard ass, but she managed to elicit a grunt and a jolt from him.

He dropped her back to her feet and growled as he caught her in a loose head lock. “Whatcha gonna do now, smartass?”

The playful side of Logan came out so rarely, she treasured every second of it. As it was, she’d never seen him act this way with anyone other than her. Warmth filled her chest. He might not be one to give her flowery words every day, telling her how he felt about her, but his actions showed the depth of caring he felt toward her and never failed to make her feel like the most special woman on the planet. At least in his eyes.

“This work?” she asked with an impish grin and she reached back and pressed the heel of her hand against his balls.

“Shit,” he cried out, releasing her at once. “You win.” His genuine and also rare smile meant the freaking world.

“Come on.” She grabbed his hand and towed him toward the door. “This place looks itty bitty compared to your castle,” she said with a huff. She’d taken to calling Logan’s house a castle, which never failed to make him roll his eyes and curse Shell’s name.

Just as she slid the key into the deadbolt lock, her front door jerked open and Scott barreled out. His face was a facade of murderous fury. Before she had time to process his presence, she was yanked behind her brother and away from Logan.

“Who the fuck are you?” Scott yelled in a venomous tone she’d never known was possible from him.

“Scott…” She peered around him only to shriek, “What the hell are you doing? Get that gun out of his face.” Held in Scott’s hand as though it were nothing but an extension of his arm, was a deadly black pistol. “Scott, please!” she tried again as a cold sweat broke out all over her body.