“Got it tricked out real nice.” Ben settled in with his own beer. His wife paused to place her hand on his shoulder, and he reached up to squeeze it.
For some reason, Patriot found his gaze wandering to Aarica again. Aarica with three A’s. She sat quiet but attentive, just soaking in the talk and atmosphere of the snapping fire. When offered a beer, she waved it away and instead sipped on a bottle of water, which only enhanced his belief she was underage.
When she crossed her ankles out in front of her, Patriot found it impossible not to follow the lines of her body, from hiking boots to the hems of her jeans, cuffed once to reveal a tiny peek of white socks, to her full thighs that flared into womanly hips. She might look young, but she possessed all the goods of a woman.
He reached higher on her body, drinking in a heavy barn jacket buttoned all the way to the collar and just knew if he popped open those buttons and slid his hand inside the warm depths, he’d find curves to match the rest of her.
He landed at her chin, a tiny point a man could pinch between his thumb and forefinger to direct her face up to him. Then those lips—fuck. Tanned skin that took on a glow from the firelight.
She flicked her eyes to him again, and they held a heartbeat too long. A slow burn stirred low in his gut, alerting him to the fact that he hadn’t wrapped a woman against his body in a long time.
When she cast her eyes downward again, he watched her lashes cast spiked shadows over her cheeks.
After he finished his beer, he’d best return to his campsite. He didn’t have the time or inclination to be involved with anyone, especially right now with his life in turmoil.
But as he finished his beer, one of the guys asked about bikes, and then conversation rolled on for a good half hour.
“I see your patches, man. Didn’t know you were with a club these days,” Ben said.
The Dark Falcons patch rode on the back of the leather jacket he wore, along with a Sergeant at Arms patch that meant he was in charge of protection for the club. But he wasn’t doing a very good job of it by tossing all his brothers into his swamp of trouble, was he?
He saw Aarica lift a hand to the button at her throat. She popped it to reveal a tiny sliver of throat. No way should that buttoned-up bit of flesh entice, but damn if he wasn’t shifting on the cooler to ease the tightness in his jeans.
Sometime later, Aarica stood. “I’m going to my tent now. It’s been a long day.”
Mel looked up with a smile. “Goodnight. If you need anything, let us know.”
The woman offered a smile and a wave, and then she started across the site. She rounded the tent before Patriot realized she wasn’t sharing their campsite with them.
“Where’s she camped?”
“Around the loop,” one of the other ladies told him.
He stood. She couldn’t walk alone, in the dark and looking like a damn tasty snack. “I’ll see she gets there safe.”
Without another word, he followed her. When he caught up to her, she threw a look over her shoulder.
“Oh, hi.” Her soft voice soothed the beast in him far more than any solitude of the mountains had so far. Or maybe it stirred the primal beast that wanted to duck his head and kiss those plump, sultry lips.
“Hope you don’t mind if I walk with you. Since it’s dark and all.”
“You don’t have to, but thanks. My cousins would do the same thing.”
“Cousins? How many we talkin’?”
“Five that I grew up with. My aunt and uncle took me in when I was two. They’re parents to me, and my cousins are brothers.” They hit the dirt path leading around the ring of campsites. The silence loomed up, another entity in the night with them, a giant’s hands holding them closer together.
Patriot burned through the urge to reach out and grab her hand. Why? She was safe enough.
Because I fucking want to put my hands on her.
The punch of desire kept him from speaking more on the topic of her family, but he listened as she recounted her cousins’ ages and how she’d grown up on a big farm.
That unsealed his lips. “So you’re fresh off the farm?” he teased.
She chuckled. “It’s true. I never thought I’d get away.”
“You didn’t like it then?”
“I loved it. Growing up there was everything a girl could dream of, having family around. But it was time for me to move on and find my own life. My cousins are very protective, and I couldn’t date without their approval.”
Hell, just as he thought. Inexperienced kid came to the small town to escape the life she knew and looking for excitement. He would not, no matter how much the ache in his balls urged him to, be the one to show her the downside of one-night stands.
But the thought of anybody else doing that made him want to pick up his favorite hammer and go after them.
“I’m right up here.” She pointed, and through the darkness he spotted a small two-man tent and a blackened fire ring. He couldn’t think of a lonelier place to leave her.
Once they reached the site, they stopped and faced each other. “Want me to start your fire?” He realized how that sounded.
She looked up into his eyes. Even in the low light he caught the glimmer in the depths of her gaze. “No, I’ll be all right.”
He didn’t move. Trapped in her gaze. Or too afraid to move away from her for fear he’d never see her again.
Neither spoke.
Slowly, she leaned in. He froze as she went on tiptoe and pressed a kiss to his cheek, resting a hand on his chest at the same time.
A guttural need gripped him. He needed to step away from the innocent beauty—do the right thing. But that soft caress of her lips on his cheek proved too much.
He wrapped his hands around her waist and pulled her into him. Dark need stole all his thoughts at the mere crush of her tantalizing body against his.
“How old are you?” he grated out.
“Twenty-three.”
Young. But not as young as he originally thought.
“How old are you?”
“Too old for you.”
That pulled a giggle from her. The sound tormented his senses more.
“How old is that?”
A knot worked its way down his throat when he swallowed and then said, “Thirty.”
On his chest, her fingers splayed. Afraid she’d push away, he tightened his hold on her middle, but she didn’t move. In fact, her breaths came faster. Lightly, he kneaded his fingers into her waist. A quiet moan escaped her, the sound hitting the throttle inside him. Damn, what he wouldn’t give to hear more noises from her.
Moving his hand downward, he learned the line of her hip. So womanly.
His heart thumped so damn hard against his ribs he felt his body jolt with each beat.
“Patriot… Is it a nickname?” She searched his face, waiting for the answer she’d missed when she arrived after the Collins’ introductions.
He gave a single nod, too on edge to think about much but picking her up and leaning her against the nearest tree. “My real name’s Logan.” His voice came out gritty.
A smile curved her lips upward. He stared at that mouth, wanting a glimpse of her teeth…and more. So much more.
“I like both names.” She brushed her hand over his chest, inching it downward. “What do you do to make your body so hard?”