As if she were a mind reader, Sophie turned around and fixed Billie a drink. She slapped it down on the bar in front of her. “It’s on the house. Truthfully, I didn’t think Cash was your type.”
Billie took a large gulp of the drink, wincing as it burned her throat going down. “Neither did I,” she admitted, although now that she’d been with Travis she honestly couldn’t imagine ever wanting anyone else. What a goddamn mess. She’d come here to heal her heart, to find herself, not fall for a tortured bad boy.
“Can I give you a bit of advice?” Sophie asked, cocking her head to one side and eyeing Billie as if she were a strange exhibit in the zoo.
“Please do.”
“Run. I predict the shit is going to hit the fan around here soon and it’s going to get ugly, if not deadly.”
“Because of your dad?”
Sophie looked surprised. “He told you?”
Billie nodded, although technically she’d initially got her information by eavesdropping and Travis had shut her down in the shower when she’d asked questions. Oh…A wave of heat flooded through her at the recollection of the shower.
“Well, either he’s lost his head out in the big bad world or you’re something special to him, because bikers don’t generally talk to their bitches about this kind of shit.”
“So, run?” Billie asked, realizing she desperately wanted to mean something to Travis, no matter the consequences. “Is there another option?”
Sophie raised an eyebrow. “You want Cash? Then you give as good as he does. He’ll probably try to push you away, but being a biker’s old lady is a powerful thing. You need to earn that respect, that position.”
“Old lady?” Billie dared to ask. She’d heard the term before of course, but Sophie saying it made it real. Was that what she wanted? Hell, three days ago she’d been spouting about never being shackled to a man again, and here she was considering getting serious with her scary-ass landlord. Maybe she truly had lost her mind, the great sex messing with her common sense.
“Yes. If you’re not from our world, it’s hard to understand, but it’s not a derogatory term. Anything but, in fact. When you’re a brother’s old lady, his property, you’re important not just to him but to the club.”
“I see. Has Travis had an old lady before?”
“I can’t speak for what happened in Tallahassee, but not as far as I know. And no offense, but I can’t see him changing his loner ways for someone like you.” Sophie glanced up and down Billie’s body, giving her the once-over. “I’m guessing the sex was fucking great and that’s made you a little delusional.” She grinned. “Lord knows good sex can do that to a girl, but…”
Billie didn’t hear the rest of Sophie’s sentence. She was too busy thinking about the sex. Yes, it had been off-the-Richter-scale fantastic, but it wasn’t simply her awakened libido that wanted Travis. There was just something about him. Something breathtaking and addictive. Something had shifted inside her since meeting him. In the café last night and during those tender moments post-sex, she’d seen a glimpse of who she believed he really was and she’d felt more herself than she ever had in her life. She wanted to get to know the real man better.
She wanted to be his first “old lady,” however insane that made her.
“Thanks,” she told Sophie as she slid off the bar stool and then downed the rest of her drink.
“Goodbye, Billie.”
“No.” Billie shook her head. “I’ll be back later, but don’t tell Cash. I want to surprise him.”
Chapter 10
Later that night, Travis tried to block out the noise from the bar as he sat once again in the office and hacked into computer records. This job was far easier when he knew what he was looking for. He guessed if there was evidence to find it wouldn’t be obvious—it wasn’t like the Ministry would have planned their hit via email—but at least this gave him something to do. Something to keep his mind off of Billie. And Lorna.
He shook his head at that thought and took another sip of the beer he’d liberated from the bar. The liquid had barely coated his throat when he felt a presence behind him. He turned slowly, expecting to see Ajax or Blue, but almost choked at the sight of Billie standing in the doorway. Or rather Billie’s bad-girl twin. Her blond hair was more mussed up than usual, but it was her outfit that made every muscle in his body tighten. She wore a fitted black T-shirt with the words “Fallen Angel” scrawled across her tits, and he wasn’t sure whether the strip of denim across her thighs was a belt or actually a very short skirt. Either way, his gaze snapped to her long, shapely legs, and the recollection of them wrapped around his body as he drove into her in the shower hit him as if it were a physical blow. Her feet, which were usually bare, were encased in some kind of black, strappy heels, giving him all kinds of fantasies he shouldn’t and didn’t want to be having.
She looked damn hot—reminded him a little of Sandy from Grease when she went all bad girl at the end—but although she might be dressed like the girls that frequented The Priory, that didn’t mean she was one of them. Looks could be deceiving. But what the hell game was she playing, coming in here looking like that?
She hit him with a smile and he realized his tongue had been hanging out. Dammit. He snapped his mouth shut and glared at her. “What are you doing here?”
Her chirpy expression didn’t falter. “I thought we had a dinner date?”
He made some kind of snort-cum-scoffing noise. “I don’t date, sugar.” And besides, after the little display he’d put on in her gallery this morning, he thought she’d be through with him. He’d sure as hell shown her his true colors.
She raised her eyebrows. “So what was Café Du Monde?”
“I couldn’t sleep. I was horny. I wanted your pussy and I knew the only way to get it was to play nice, but I’m not nice. I thought you saw that today.” It wasn’t entirely true—he’d enjoyed her company as much as her body—but he thought he sounded convincing.
“Maybe I don’t care what I saw today. Maybe I don’t care about your personality; maybe I just want you for your body as well.”
For a second her words shocked him, but then he chuckled. “In my experience, women say stuff like that but in the end, they can’t keep emotions and sex separate.” Although fuck knows why she’d find anything else to like about him.
“I’m not a walking cliché, Travis. I’m not asking for a wedding ring, just more of what we had last night. A lot more.”
“Well, that’s a damn shame, because I’m done with you.” He pretended to go back to what had been keeping him busy on the screen, not daring to look at her for fear she’d see he was lying. It was better this way. For him. And definitely for her.
“Fine. If you want to punish the both of us, then go ahead. I’m not going to beg.” And with that, she turned on those fucking-amazing heels and stalked out into the bar.
Travis closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know how long he’d have been able to resist her in that outfit. Especially if she did start to beg. Jesus, the thought made his cock ache. Deciding he needed something stronger than beer to distract him, he stood and headed out into the noisy bar. He weaved through the bartenders and was about to serve himself a bourbon when he saw something out of the corner of his eye that made his blood boil.