Twisted Steel: An MC Anthology: Second Edition Elizabeth Knox (cheapest way to read ebooks .txt) 📖

from my shoulder to smile in my face. “The Ritz . . . that was the summer I worked as a maid there. The tips were worth the hour drive.”

“The Ritz . . . right,” I whisper, remembering . . .

Twenty years ago . . .

Sara drags me toward a hotel, one neither of us have any business being in.

We’ve both got sunglasses on. She stops me before we go around the corner toward the entrance, steps in front of me, and flips the collar of my shirt up.

“Just act like you belong,” she whispers.

I follow her toward the entrance, and a doorman holds the door for us. “Ma’am. Sir.”

The inside is stunning and over-the-top lavish. We stand for a moment, her with her nose in the air, totally looking like she belongs, while I just stand behind her, wondering what the fuck we’re doing.

Sara scans the semi-crowded lobby, then moves toward a seating area where two near-empty martini glasses sit abandoned, a couple having just walked away toward the elevators. We sit, and she glances around then picks up the glasses, passing one to me.

“Act like these are ours. We can pretend we’re two strangers who just met in the hotel lobby.”

“Well, you’re already acting like somebody I don’t know, so we’re halfway there.”

“I’ll be Shelby, and you can be Bentley.”

I cock a brow. “So we’re cars?”

“Oh, Bentley, don’t be droll.”

I lift my glass to hers, tapping the edge. “To you, Shelby, dear. How was your day of shopping? Did you buy any diamonds?”

“I had a glorious time. Your platinum card was quite well used, dear Bentley.”

“Hmm. I see. Good thing I own all those oil wells.”

She waggles her brows. “Let’s get a room.”

“We can’t afford a room here. Even the people we’re pretending to be can’t afford a room here.”

“I used to work here. This place has checkout at eleven. Check-in is at three. Which means there’s a whole bunch of rooms upstairs just waiting for turndown service. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“That you’re using sex as a weapon?”

“Yep. Come on.”

We take the elevator up with another couple. They use their key card to get us up to the tenth floor. We get off with them and turn another way. Sara pulls me around a corner, and we spot a maid’s cart. She peers in the open door, then moves back to me.

“Wait out of sight.”

“Why?”

“Because you want to have sex with me.”

“Good enough reason.”

“Natasha,” she hisses into the doorway as I stand out of sight.

“Sara, what are you doing here? Did they hire you back?”

She whispers something to the girl that I can’t hear.

“Is he worth it?”

“Totally.”

“Fine. You can have this room; I’ll come back to clean it last. You better be gone by then or I’ll be fired.”

“Thanks, hon.”

A young maid walks out pushing her cart past the alcove where the ice machine is. She gives me the once over, and then winks at Sara. “Totally.”

Sara pulls me into the room and hangs the Do Not Disturb sign on the door.

Only one of the two beds looks like it’s been slept in, so I steer her backward to the other one, asking, “What was your plan if you hadn’t bumped into Natasha?”

She shrugs. “I’d have figured something out.”

“Have you done this before?”

“Do you want me to slug you or fuck you?”

I’m not stupid, so I shut up and have sex on thousand count Egyptian cotton sheets.

I look over at her now, and it seems like just yesterday. She’s smiling, and I know she’s remembering it all, too. “It was a fun afternoon, Shelby. Thank you.”

She giggles. “You’re welcome, Bentley.”

I stroke her back, content having her in my arms.

“Why do they call you Green?”

“They?”

“Misty said everyone calls you Green.”

“Guess they do. It’s sort of a nickname. Maybe someday I’ll tell you how I got it.”

I rub her back until I hear her breathing change and know she’s drifted off to sleep. I stroke her silky hair, and wonder how she’ll react when I tell her I’m in an MC.

9 Sara

Sunday morning

The morning sun is streaming in the window when I open my eyes and find that sometime during the night Irish carried me to the bed. I look over at him. He’s sound asleep. Perfect time to go exploring, besides, I’d kill for a cup of caffeine. I smile; press a kiss to his shoulder, and ease from the bed. I grab his white dress shirt and slip it on, doing up one of the studs between my breasts, then pull on my discarded panties and tiptoe from the room.

I float silently down the carpeted stairs and find my way to the kitchen. I start a pot of coffee, and peer out the window to the back while it brews. There’s a metallic green custom chopper style motorcycle parked out there, as well as a shiny black one that looks more suited to handling long distances. It’s bigger and has saddlebags.

I move toward the door and step outside on the small back porch to get a closer look. I lean my palms on the railing, and peer up at the clear blue sky.

The door opens behind me, and then arms slip around my waist, and I’m pulled against a solid wall of a warm bare chest. I reach back with my hands and grab his ass while Irish dips his mouth to nuzzle my neck and ear.

“You’re up early.”

“You have a motorcycle.”

“Count again.”

“You have two motorcycles.”

“Which one’s your favorite?”

“The black one. It’s pretty.”

“Babe, it’s awesome, it’s fast, it’s badass, but don’t say it’s pretty.”

I giggle.

“Want to go for a ride?” he asks.

“More than anything.”

“First we eat.” He throws me over his shoulder, and I shriek. I’m carried back inside and set on the kitchen counter. Then Irish proceeds to make me breakfast.

I sit and watch while he pours me a cup of coffee and carries it to me. Then he fries up bacon and scrambles eggs, and between times