He led her to the dance floor, and they shook their bodies to Sammy Hagar’s “I Can’t Drive 55.” As Belle moved her hips to the beat of the music, Banger felt his jeans grow tighter. The way she swayed told him she’d be all kinds of hot in bed, and for the first time in a long time, he wanted a specific woman. The fucking he did with the club whores and hoodrats didn’t count—it was for physical release, nothing more—but his whole body was burning for this voluptuous woman who ignited something in him he’d thought was long gone.
When the music slowed a bit, Banger pulled Belle into his arms, pressing her close to him, loving the way her soft tits felt against his chest. They moved back and forth to the slow strains of Nazareth’s “Love Hurts,” her subtle floral scent driving him crazy. He wrapped his arms around her, his bulge rubbing against her, the sensation sending sparks down his spine. Belle leaned her head on his chest and put her arms around him. When his hands lowered to rest on her fleshy ass, she stiffened then shook her head. Leaning down, he whispered in her ear, “You’re a sexy woman. I love the feel of your body.”
“You can feel it with your arms around my waist. Take them off my butt.”
Just like that, she ordered him to stop what he was doing. At first, it startled him because women never told him what to do. Hell, he and Grace had sex the first night they’d met. Since her death, the club women clamored for him; he’d been off-limits during his marriage, but they came at him like sharks, silently hoping he’d take another old lady. They couldn’t do enough to please him and show him he needed their pussies. And the woman he actually craved ordered him to stop touching her tempting ass. What the fuck? He didn’t know what to make of it.
“Your hands are still there.”
It was a statement, but it worked; he abruptly moved them up and around her waist. Satisfied, she leaned her head on his chest once again. They danced the next few songs, then she said against his ear, “Let’s go back to the table, my feet are killing me.” Her lips just grazed his skin, and Banger ran his finger down her jawline while he nodded.
They ordered another drink just when Hawk turned to Banger. “Cara and I are cutting out. She’s got an early morning hearing. I’ll see you at the clubhouse tomorrow.”
Banger winked and tilted his chin then turned his attention to the lovely, cocoa-haired woman who made his pulse quicken. Her tangle of curls fell a little past her shoulder, and Banger’s fingers itched to wrap around the spiral strands, feeling their silkiness against his callused skin. And her full bottom lip was begging for him to suck on it while he held her close. Damn, she’s a hot one.
“How did I miss seeing a pretty lady like you? You from Pinewood Springs?” he asked as he leaned in close, his arm pressing against hers.
She shook her mass of curls. “Lakeview. It’s about an hour from here.”
“Yeah, I know it. You got some great backroads for biking. I go there often during the summer. How did you end up in Pinewood?”
“My husband died a year ago, and he left me and the kids in a bad way. He always told me he’d take care of me, but he didn’t.” She paused, her gaze moving from his to the dance floor.
“That’s tough.”
When she looked at him again, her twinkling eyes had turned hard, the bluish-steel of a midwinter sky. “Yeah, it is. Anyway, my best friend, Holly, had moved here to be with her boyfriend. He’s a deputy sheriff. When Harold died, and our house was foreclosed, Holly told me to get a fresh start. My kids and I moved in with her and Darren for a few months until I landed the job at Ruthie’s. With the overtime, and Ruthie’s generosity, I was able to afford a small bungalow on the east side of town. It’s a far cry from our five-bedroom home in Lake Vista Hills, but it’s good to be in a place that’s all our own.” She brought her drink to her lips, the hardness in her eyes softening a bit.
“How many kids you got?”
“Two. I have a daughter who is sixteen and a ten-year-old boy. They’re my anchors. What about you? Were you ever caught by a lady?”
He bobbed his head up and down. “I got a daughter, Kylie. She just turned nineteen and is away at college in Crested Peak. Her mama and I were hitched for fifteen years.”
“You divorced?”
“Nah. My old lady died.” After six years, saying the words aloud still pulled at his heart.
Belle placed a hand over his. “I’m sorry. It must be tough.”
Clenching his jaw, Banger stared straight ahead. “It is.”
Silence settled around them, each lost in their memories. Grace’s shining blue eyes and long, glossy blonde hair flashed in front of him. She had been a kind, beautiful woman who adored her daughter and husband. She was so clear in his mind that he felt that if he could just reach out a bit further, he could touch her, feel her warm skin and silky hair again.