Adversaries by T.L. Hodel

The air was filled with a grinding growl as a pack of bikes swerved around my car. At least twenty men in leather roared down the street, slicing around me like water through rocky edges at the bottom of the bluffs back home.

My eyes narrowed on the last few as they passed by. More specifically, the scythe and crossbones patch stitched into the back of their vest. Lost Souls on the top with Miami Chapter 11 on the bottom. Of course, they were Chase’s boys.

“Hey,” I rolled down my window, stuck my head out, and yelled back at them, “watch where you’re going.”

One of the riders in the back glanced over his shoulder and flipped me off.

“You’re lucky I have something to do, but I’m writing down your license plate number.”

The smug bastard not only laughed as if my threat meant nothing, but he swept his hand over the back of his bike, where the plate was attached. To which I took a note of in my phone.

My virtual assistant was great for stuff like that. Don’t know what I was going to do with his plate number, but you can bet your ass I was gonna do something.

Damned bikers thought they owned the street.

Oh, but I’m sure if one of these assholes hit my car, I’d get a nice bouquet of flowers the next day. They weren’t even good ones. Lilies and daisies. Could you get more mediocre than that?

The lilies I could live with, they were kind of pretty, but moms and little sisters got daisies. Chase probably didn’t even pick them out. He probably sent one of his lackeys, like the idiot that flipped me off.

“Flip me off,” I muttered and settled back into my leather seat to crank up the radio. “I’ll show him.”

I concentrated on the road and put the incident out of my mind. The music helped a little. Normally it’d be Taylor Swift, or Dua Lipa, blaring through my speakers, something that was on-trend. I did have a reputation to keep, after all.

When I was alone, I could listen to the stuff I really liked, Classic rock. When I was little, I used to dance and sing along with gardeners while they worked, until daddy reminded me that girls didn’t listen to rock.

If he knew about my secret collection, I’d have never heard the end of it. ‘Proper girls don’t give people a reason to judge them.’

So, I hid my records, tapes, and digital music files. Bands from the seventies, eighties, and nineties. They were my dirty little secret. ACDC, a little Metallica. Right now, it was Credence Clearwater Revival, because as far as Chase Mathers was concerned, there was a ‘Bad Moon Rising.’

What kind of person chose to live out here? I passed two swamps in this old rundown part of the city, and I’m pretty sure there was a serial killer living in that decrepit amusement park.

There was a car graveyard in the back and some discarded shoes on the ground. How did I know this? Because I took a wrong turn and spent twenty minutes trying to find my way out of the rusty junkyard. Even GPS avoided this part of Miami.

At least I knew I was going the right way now if the sea of leather that just drove past me didn’t tell me that, then the row of bikes on the other side of a chain-link fence sure as hell did.

I steered my Mercedes down the bumpy road that led to a set of closed gates. What I saw on the other side, I could only describe as a compound. A few small buildings that resembled shacks sat next to a garage or warehouse. In the back, behind a large building, I could see trees along the shimmering water of a lake.

Then again, in this area, it could be a swamp. It was the large building in the center, with the members-only sign on the door, that I assumed was my target. It wasn’t bad, I suppose, for a swamp rat. Clean white paint with a blue roof and red door.

My nose crinkled at the white van parked to the left. Why the hell would a bunch of bikers have a van. Wasn’t that like sacrilege or something?

Whatever, I wasn’t here for Chase’s creep van. I tipped my head at the thick chain wrapped around the gates. A large lock on the other side glittered in the sunlight as if daring me to try and cross the forbidden barrier.

This was the best they had for security? Gotta say, I was a little disappointed. Weren’t bikers supposed to be big, badass bastards?

“Some club you have here, Chase,” I snorted and shifted into reverse.

I backed up, giving myself enough room to get some speed, and spun around to look out the windshield. Two men had come up to the gates and were standing there with their arms crossed. One tilted his head and narrowed his gaze as

I took a sip of my Perrier water. Almost as if fate was picking the music for my life, the loud chiming of bells rang through my speakers, ‘Hells Bells.’ Couldn’t ask for a better song. The music started, and their eyes met mine as I revved the engine.

That’s right motherfuckers, I’m coming in.

One shook his head while the other reached to his side. I popped the clutch, shifted, and slammed my foot on the gas. My tires spun, kicking up a cloud of dust as I shot forward and drove right through the gate, singing, “I won’t take no prisoners.”

The men acted quickly, throwing themselves off to the side to avoid the flung open gates. I yanked on the steering wheel, fishtailing my car to the left, and shot towards my target.

I kind of got why Ava did this stuff. The sound of rubber spinning out on gravel, along with the wind on my face, was exhilarating. I’d never felt so free and was a little disappointed when all hell didn’t break loose.

Guess most of Chase’s boys were in that mob I drove past because only a couple of guys came out from various places.

“You pricks better not shoot my car,” I yelled as a few of them raised their pistols.

If there was one bullet hole in my car, I’d be taking it out of someone’s hide. Thankfully, no one pulled the trigger, and I was able to pull up to the large building in the center. They did follow me, though. Came right up to my Mercedes, surrounding me.

I snorted at their tense posture. What did they think I was going to do? Drive through their precious members-only building? It wasn’t worth the paint it would cost to fix my car.

One of them slapped his hand down on my hood. “Get the fuck out of the car!”

“Do you mind?” I opened the door, stepped out onto the gravel, and nodded at his hand still pressed against my hood. “I just had it cleaned.”

“What the fuck?” someone muttered, “Who invited Malibu Barbie?”

Ugh. Barbie, really?

I rolled my eyes. Was originality completely dead?

While the rest of them were gawking at me with either confusion or lust, one guy marched forward with his pistol raised.

“Who the fuck are you?”

I paused long enough to give him a quick scan. He was a big boy like the rest but couldn’t be much older than me. There was a spark of youth and naivety in his turquoise eyes. Still, I had to admire him. He was more concerned with why I was here than checking out my ass.

“Get that gun out of my face,” I snarled and spun around to open my back door.

He stepped forward, growling, “Look bitch…” but stopped when I pulled out the bouquet of flowers.

The furrow in his brow deepened when I threw my thumb at the building and asked, “Chase in there?”

One of the others answered. “You can’t go in there.”

My hand shot out, grabbing the nuts of the young one.

“Oh yeah,” I gave enough of a squeeze for him to cry out and hunch over. “Who’s going to stop me?”

The rest of them put their hands up in defeat, which I took as an invitation. I released his balls and smiled when his eyes rolled up to meet mine. He really wanted to hurt me, probably would if he wasn’t in so much pain. Or, at least he’d try. I was Naomi Prescott. No one’s victim.

I tapped him on the cheek and then headed for the red members-only door. “You should get some ice for that.”

This dirty gravel wasn’t doing my Jimmy Choo’s any favors. I’d probably have to get rid of them after I left here. No big loss. They were last year’s design. Normally, I’d have given them away by now, but they were the only ones that matched the olive coloring of my dress. Guess I’d have to do some shopping later.

“Shouldn’t we stop her?” I heard one say.

“Fuck that, let Spider deal with his morning-after rejects.”

I scoffed and threw the door open. Morning-after reject? Please, that would never happen. I was the one that did the rejecting. Besides, I would never sleep with someone named Spider. What the hell kind of juvenile crap was that?

When I stepped inside, I was a bit surprised. It was nicer than what I thought it would be. Not what I would consider nice, but it was okay.

It didn’t look like a crack house with a mattress and dirt on the floor, which is what I expected. This place was clean and organized. Road signs and various pictures hung on white walls that were accented by decent dark wooden floors. The stairs even had a rug going up them that was the same royal blue on their patches.

The color scheme was all over this place. Grey, black and blue, with just the right amount of red. Little highlights around picture frames and ornaments. A woman had to have decorated this place. No man could’ve done this.

Did they have women in motorcycle clubs? It would be kind of badass if they did. Some chick riding around with these big guys, holding her own. I might even like a girl like that, despite her lower social standing.

As I rounded the corner and headed for the second floor, I could hear voices wafting down the hallway.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” a deep tone growled.

That one kind of sounded like the really big guy from last night. The only reason I remembered him was because his size made him hard to miss.

I hadn’t heard the next voice before. “You just declared war.”

“My brother declared war eight years ago.”

Now that one, I knew. Chase was apparently having a disagreement with his little friends. Well, he was about to have bigger problems.

After taking a minute to straighten my dress–one should always look their best–I strode down the hall. Whatever they were talking about came to a grinding halt when I threw open the door.

Four men–one of which was Chase–stood by a bar in a room that appeared to be some kind of lounge. A couple of couches sat on the right side, along with tables, chairs, and a pool table.

The left side housed a large bar and various other games, a dartboard and stuff like that. What threw me was the chess set in the corner. It was a nice one. A marble board with obsidian and quartz pieces, not something that should be here.

“Who the fuck let her in?”

My gaze swung over to Chase and the three men with him. Tanner I knew from back home, the other two I’d only seen once or twice.

“No one let me in.”

“Get the fuck out, Princess.” Chase’s thick lips curled in a snarl. “You’re not welcome here.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave,” I cocked my hip and gave him a sweet smile, “right after I thank you for your gift.”

Chase shifted his gaze to the flowers in my hand, which was when I hurled it across the room.

“Fuck,” he muttered and ducked out of the way as the vase soared through the air and smashed into the wall behind him.

Damnit, a little to the left, and I’d have hit him.

The guy with the darker complexion pushed off the bar, but Tanner pressed his hand to his chest and shook his head.

Whatever, let him come. I wasn’t afraid of any of these pricks.

Chase’s deep growl echoed through the air. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” My palm flattened over my pounding heart. “You think flowers are going to fix a driveby. I got shot at, asshole!”

Something like guilt flashed across his face. Good! He should feel bad.

“I didn’t tell those assholes to shoot up your sorority!”

“Really? That’s the excuse you’re going with?” I propped my hands on my hips. “Do me a favor, the next time you want to get someone killed, volunteer one of your friends. Mine are off-limits.”

“Don’t lie to me, Princess.” Chase’s dark eyes lit up as a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You don’t have any friends.”

This son of a bitch. He did not just say that to me. I balled my hands and took a deep breath.

Calm down, Naomi. He’s not worth it. Proper girls control their temper.

“I think you hurt her feelings,” Tanner snickered.

“The cunt doesn’t have any feelings,” Chase grumbled back.

Screw proper.

I snatched a cup off one the nearby tables and chucked it. Chase tried to move, but this time I got him. The mug hit him square in the chest. Satisfied, I smiled and spun around to leave.

“Get back here, you little bitch.”

“Bite me,” I sang over my shoulder and skipped down the stairs.

But he wasn’t far behind. I’d made it down the first flight when my arm was seized, and I was pulled back into a wall of muscle.

Chase’s warm breath warmed my skin as he growled in my ear. “You think you can come into my clubhouse and throw shit at me.”

“Clubhouse,” I scoffed. “What are you, four?”

Next thing I knew, I was spun around with my back slammed against the wall.

“You picked the wrong day to fuck with me, Princess.”

“No, Chase,” I spat out his name with disdain and disgust. “You picked the wrong girl to fuck with.”

I shoved him back and lifted my knee, bring it up into his groin.

That’s when everything changed.

In my experience, men had two reactions to getting kicked in the balls. They fell to the ground in a moaning heap, or they bent over, groaning in pain. Either way, it was enough to make them second guess their next action.

Chase didn’t do either of those.

My knee connected with the most sensitive part of his body, and all I got in response was a discomfiting groan. That wasn’t what scared me, though. It was the way his eyes darkened with rage and hatred.

I could see it pouring into him. Feel the anger radiating off him. I kicked him in the nuts, and all it did was piss him off!

Before I could make a run for it, his hand snapped up and wrapped around my neck.

“You think you’re the first girl to kick me in the nuts?”

For the first time in my life, I didn’t know what to do, so I slapped him. Hard. My palm flew through the air, striking his cheek and twisting his face to the side.

Take that asshole.

My heart dropped when he twisted his neck, and I was met with his glare. Chase’s fingers twitched around my throat as he released a loud roar and punched the wall. His giant fist broke through the drywall beside my head, and all I could think was this was it.

I’d finally pushed someone past their resistance, and now I was going to die. I suppose there were worse things that could happen.

“Go ahead,” I hissed. “Hit me.”

He wouldn’t be the first guy to hurt me. There was a reason I attached myself to Micha Kessler and his friends. No one with that kind of power was seen as vulnerable.

Chase’s brows furrowed. “I’m not gonna hit you.”

“Why not? You suddenly a good guy?”

“Make no mistake,” he pressed in on me, “I’m far from fucking good.”

I don’t know why I was taunting him? The man was a good six inches taller than me and a massive wall of muscle. Christ sake, his forearm was as big as my thigh. The truly messed up part was that his hand around my neck wasn’t stirring my sense of selfpreservation. It was turning me on.

The longer I stood there, staring at the dark scruff on his chiseled jaw, the more I wanted to run my fingers through his brown hair. I hated him with every fiber of my being, but goddammit, if a large part of me wasn’t aching to reach down and grab his cock.

I decided to do something else instead.

Unlike my mother, I didn’t slum it. And Chase Mathers might be able to withstand one hit to the nuts, but not two. Prepared to take him down, I lifted my leg.

Unfortunately, he was ready for that. His knee wedged between my thighs, clamping his legs around my leg before I could do anything.

“Not very smart, are you.”

“Congratulations,” I sang with an eye roll, “You managed to subdue a girl.”

“Oh, Princess.” He flattened his body up against mine and softly growled. “I haven’t begun to subdue you yet.”

I shifted, trying to get away from his knee. All that did was make me gasp as his leg pressed up against my core. My pulse picked up as his thigh flexed, tensing the solid muscle and adding more pressure.

“Shit,” slipped through my lips before I could clamp my mouth shut.

It shouldn’t be like this. My panties shouldn’t be getting wet, and my body sure as hell shouldn’t be soaking up his warmth. I’d only had two orgasms in my life, both of which I’d given myself, and neither of those felt as good as being over-powered by him did.

Chase’s breath shallowed out as his gaze fell down to my hips. Any doubt I had about whether or not he could feel my arousal vanished when he lifted his leg and ground his thigh against me. My clit throbbed from the friction, shooting sparks of excitement up my spine.

“God, I hate you,” I breathed and rocked my hips to feel it again.

“Don’t worry, Princess.” His hand left my neck and speared through my hair, roughly yanking my head to the side. “The feeling’s mutual.”

This was so not happening.

Gritting my teeth against the pleasure rolling through my body, I twisted my neck as much as I could and looked him right in the eyes. “Let me go.”

“Not a fucking chance,” he growled and grabbed my ass with his free hand, rolling my panty-clad mound along his strong thigh. “You’re gonna come all over my leg.”

“Good luck.” I had a hard time getting myself off. Which was why I never blamed my lack of orgasm during sex on any of the four guys I’d been with.

My body simply wasn’t built that way.

“You’re halfway there already.” His fingers dug in my ass, rocking my hips.

I moaned.

He groaned.

Fighting against the fog quickly filling my mind, I thought back to something he said to me the second time we met.

“Looks like I deserve your dick after all.”

His jaw twitched. “You don’t.”

I reached down and palmed his already hard cock through his jeans while trying not to moan. He felt so big and thick that my pussy clenched with anticipation. But this wasn’t about that. This was about winning and losing.

And I. Didn’t. Lose.

Gotcha asshole.

I curled my hand around the back of his neck and pulled him in so I could whisper in his ear. “I think your dick disagrees.”

That’s right, prick. I’m better at this game than you.

I was wrong.

“That’s the difference between a boy and a man.” He leaned in, bringing his mouth a breath away from mine. “My dick doesn’t run the show.”

His mouth crashed down on mine before I could take a breath. And my God, was he ever a man. Soft, thick lips moved against mine so expertly that I didn’t realize I’d opened my mouth until his tongue swept over mine.

I shouldn’t like the taste of his cheap toothpaste or how his masculine scent poured through me, but I couldn’t help it.

One growl in my mouth was all it took to make me stop trying to pull away. The deep grumble rolled through me, washing away my resistance. I moaned and wrapped my arms around him, melting into his solid form.

Something in the back of my brain told me this was wrong, and for a brief second, I tried to fight it. Pulling on his hair and biting his lip, Chase returned my actions, digging his teeth into my lip as he yanked my head back.

I’m not sure how my legs wound up wrapped around his waist or when he started to palm my breast.

One thing I did know, I’d never been happier to hear Tanner’s voice in my life.

“Oh shit, my bad.”

Our make-out session ended faster than if a bucket of ice water was tossed on us. We both stopped and slowly turned to see a smiling Tanner.

He held up his hands, “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

Chase dropped me and stepped back. “Get the fuck out of my clubhouse.”

I straightened my dress, lifted my chin, and snarled, “Stay the fuck off my campus,” before strutted out.