Chaos Bound (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #4)(11)
Holt snorted a laugh. Fuck she was cute.
“Sorry.” Naiya blushed and looked away. “That was stupid. The geek strikes again. You just make me nervous, especially when you don’t talk, and I feel like I’m babbling. I’ll go get us a ride.”
Was she f*cking crazy? “Hell no. It’s not safe for you to be standing on the side of the road in the dark.”
“I can tick off at least five reasons why we can’t stay here.” She held up her hand and tapped her finger. “First—
“I said no, darlin’. That’s all the reasons you need.”
She lifted an eyebrow, flicked her long hair back. “The very fact you can’t get up and stop me is the very reason we need to go. You need medical attention. I need not to spend the night in the cold, dark forest with a strange biker.”
Damn stubborn woman. “When the man says no, it means no.” Holt forced himself to sitting and folded his arms, surprising himself with the vehemence in his tone. Where the hell had that come from? He was the peacemaker in the club, the negotiator. Rarely did he ever take a firm stand, or impose his will, preferring to resolve problems by finding a mutually agreeable solution. But something about Naiya … or maybe it was their situation … gave him a confidence and conviction he’d never felt before, a need to take control. Protect. Which made no sense since he planned to use her as bait.
“Maybe back in caveman times.” Her hands found her hips. “And maybe that kind of thing works with your sweet butts and house mamas, but it doesn’t work with me. I’m not part of the biker world anymore. I don’t answer to bikers. I don’t answer to anyone.”
Holt’s groin tightened as he watched her stalk down the road, the moonlight caressing her curves, smoothing over her ass, lush in dark denim. Used to women falling over themselves to bed him, he’d never met a woman quite like Naiya. Smart, confident, self-assured, and seemingly oblivious to the charm that made it easy for him to meet women and talk his way out of trouble, she was the most intriguing woman he’d ever met.
“Fuck.” Holt fell back on the forest floor, leaves crackling under his stolen vest. He needed to keep his focus on the fight and his dick in his pants so he wouldn’t risk discovering the damage Viper had done was permanent. She was a means to an end, and his interest was likely the result of months of isolation and a lack of female company. He would protect her until she’d lured Viper to him. After that, they would go their separate ways.
He had no idea how much time had passed when Naiya returned, the bottom of her T-shirt tucked into the neck in a way that exposed her smooth, toned midriff and the crescents of her breasts.
Holt’s mouth watered, if that was possible for a man dying of thirst. Jesus f*cking Christ, she was hot. And it had been so goddamn long since he’d had a woman …
“I got one,” she said, as he tried to keep his gaze anywhere but on her chest. “He’s a trucker. His name is Lucky Larry. He’s waiting for us. I told him we were in a bike accident and the bike was totaled.”
Someone had seen what he was seeing now? He pushed himself up to his haunches and took a deep breath as a wave of dizziness hit him. “You stood on the road like that? What the hell were you thinking?”
“You think he would have stopped if I was standing at the side of the road dressed in black?” She put her hands on her hips. “The best way to get a ride is to show a bit of skin. I always dreamed about traveling across the country, so I follow a couple of travel blogs. One of them had a post with hitchhiking tips. Not that I ever would have hitchhiked alone because statistically speaking it’s dangerous for a woman, but I always like to be informed in case the situation arises, which it did.”
Holt stared at her aghast. “You learned hitchhiking from a blog?”
“I remembered practically everything,” she said, seemingly oblivious to his incredulous tone. “Where to stand, what kind of vehicle to flag down, how to be seen in the dark. Of course, it’s always better to use a sign instead of your thumb, and not hitchhike at night, but we’re doing it right since we’re traveling together and you have a knife.”
“Put your shirt down.” Anger, unexpected and unwanted, sizzled through his veins. Did she have any idea what it did to a man to see something he wasn’t meant to see? And those curves, her breasts, and … JESUS FUCK that sexy tat on her side … His cock hardened, straining against his fly. Good to know Viper hadn’t damaged him permanently after all.
Holt unholstered his weapon and pushed himself to stand, leaning against a tree for support. If the trucker had any f*cking ideas about touching her, he’d find himself with one extra hole in his body and one truck short.
Lucky Larry was clearly disappointed to see that Naiya hadn’t made up the story about a boyfriend, and even more disappointed when Holt made sure he got a good view of his weapon. Still, he gave Holt a bottle of water and an egg-salad sandwich he’d picked up at a restaurant a few miles back. Holt had never tasted anything so good. He had to force himself to go slow, taking the water in tiny sips and nibbling on the sandwich, knowing his shrunken stomach wouldn’t be able to handle the food.
Thinking Holt distracted, Larry chatted with Naiya, carrying on a conversation that bordered on flirtatious until Holt thought he’d have to either shoot the f*cker or jump out of the damn truck and drag Naiya with him.