Loving Ivy

Chapter Two

What the hell did she do with an offer like that?

She looked down at his boots, grinding her teeth as she thought how to answer.

The guy was tough, mega tough in fact. His tight Rolling Stones Tee showed off large pecs, bulging arms, a flat stomach.

Ivy closed her eyes, centring her breath. What would he think if she laid her shit on his doorstep? Yeah, the offer was tantalising. Temptation rolled up in a body with less than four percent fat.

Ivy shook her head and listened to that sigh of disappointment. Inside was a good woman, who couldn't stand what he would think of her if he knew the truth about her.

"I'm sorry," she opened her eyes and stared up at him. Sky blue met hazel, and she realised it would be so easy just to lean in. Her mouth betrayed her, tongue slipping out leaving them damp.

His pupils narrowed, a hawk spotting his prey, his lips responded pursing, his tongue sweeping a wetness she wanted to lick, taste.

She had to get away from him, this instant attraction couldn't be more than hormones and loneliness, she'd be having a thorough session with a vibrator if she hadn't left it behind. Tonight she'd have to make-do with her fingers.

She wondered how many times she'd have to come before she got this guy out of her system?

And, that was the completely wrong thought because now her mind was imagining all the ways she could use him. If he spoke more now, she'd crumple, throw herself at him.

No. Giving in wasn't an option. He was nice, not the best looking she'd seen, but there was something about him that made her feel she could open up. She could trust him. But, she'd repay him with a shit load of trouble.

He was a bounty hunter, not some Navy Seal crossed with Rambo and infused with a little Chuck Norris. If he were, she would be riding him into oblivion right now.

But he wasn't. The bail jumpers he caught likely didn't pose much of a threat; they probably weren't armed with big guns.

"You know, if you're thinking I can't handle problems, there's something you should know about me."

His face leant into hers, his lips a breath away. She couldn't focus on anything but that mouth moving.

"I can't get you involved." She moaned, lifting her head a smidgeon, her bottom lip catching his in a barely-there rub.

A hand on her side, another pressed against her hip, he slid easily between her legs, touching her bodily. Those chest muscles pressing against her breasts, her nipples reaching out for more.

"Darling, the moment you walked in here, I was involved." His hand slid down her thigh, fingers curling around her leg. He yanked up, holding her leg against his hip, and slid against her.

A full body shudder shot through her. The ache in her stiff nipples, the clenching of muscles inside her, grabbing at something that should be there, if she'd just say yes.

"I'm thinking, whatever it is that's haunting those beautiful eyes, your thinking I couldn't handle it?"

Ivy tried her hardest to bring up a bland expression, thought about boring stuff. But, how could she think inane thoughts when this badass biker was rubbing himself over her, leaving the scent of sex and alpha male all over her body.

"Let me tell you something, Darling. I've seen all different kinds of shit when I was a Marine, when I was special forces and when I became a bounty hunter."

He thrust roughly, jerking her up onto her toes. She could feel the wetness leaking out of her. Feel the stiff length of him against the denim seam. Christ, he did that again, and she'd come in her jeans.

"I can handle whatever you got trailing you. Come on Ivy, I dare you to give me a chance."

Shaking her head, that challenge thrumming through her, right down to her bones she felt like hauling up and slapping him, her fingers rubbed together, trying to quell the urge.

Then her body snapped tight.

What surprised Dwalin most is that Ivy didn't snap every bone in her body. Her solidity had him crowding in, both arms pressing to the wooden column, above her head.

"Where?" he demanded.

Her eyes flicked to the entrance, it was all he needed.

"Okay, here's what you're gonna do?"

Ivy's eyes slid to his, "How—"

"Shh, just listen. I know you're scared, but you're gonna use that fear. Got it?"

She nodded, he was glad she'd caught up with the situation.

"Fear used poorly will get you killed." He cautioned, "You already know where the exits are, I saw you scope'em earlier."

That fear was settling. Good girl, he thought.

"My bike is parked around the back, so that means you'll use the north exit."

She frowned, teeth biting her bottom lip. "For fuck's sake, don't do that," he growled at her. The last thing he needed was her making him harder than he already was. Chances were they weren't gonna get out of here without knocking some heads, and fighting when sporting an erection that could smash logs was not fucking easy.

Why did he have to think the word 'fuck'.

Her eyes whizzed around the bar, searching for something. "What is it?"

Ivy looked up at him, that panic rising, bleaching her skin of colour, showing blue veins through her smooth skin. Her chin wobbled, "I don't know where the north entrance is?"

Shit, his mistake. "The one by the payphones, make your way there when I tell you."

He spun her around so she was facing the column, "Act like you're watching the dance floor."

Slipping back to the bar, Dwalin grabbed his leather jacket, eyed the two men loitering at the front, scanning the crowd. The bartender flicked a glance his way. Dwalin nodded, and the guy walked to the other end of the bar, interrupting four big bikers conversation.

He smoothly made his way back, quick, but they wouldn't have recognised his march as one of urgency.

Throwing the jacket over her shoulders, "Put this on," he commanded. He pulled the collar up, hiding her long hair, hiding those damn curves any man would take a second look at.

She turned around, sliding her arms through the long sleeves, he reached in, apologising with his eyes as he skimmed her breast with his arm. From the hidden inside pocket, he pulled a gun. Her eyes rounded as she watched him. He checked the safety, slipped it into the front of his jeans, pulled his tee over the bulge. And morosely wondered if his other bulge would ever get taken care of tonight.

"If we get out of this, you're coming with me."

She stared up at him, a smirk tilting her lips. God, he wanted to kiss her right now.

"Deal," she murmured.

He kissed her, only a peck, the slightest slip of tongue against her bottom lip, tasting Bud.

He closed his eyes, breathed deeply, in and out, opened his eyes and stared at her.

From the change in her face, he knew what she saw. A badass former Marine, who was on a mission.

Ivy took off at his nod; he walked with her halfway, the peeled off as she made it to the passageway. Dwalin went straight for the main entrance. He walked past the men, who had seen a woman disappear down a side passage and were trying to get past four bikers.

He pitied those silly bastards. No one fucked with the Road Ravens.

In the car park, bikes, trucks, a few cars, a black SUV, nearly brand new, idling away towards the road. "Oh, I wonder which fucking vehicle theirs is." He snarked the comment as he passed a few more bikers who had just arrived.

Rounding a low wall jutting out the end of the bar, passing more parked bikes, he shot off towards his bike at the end.

And met a huge wall of a man. Bigger than him. Struggling. With a babe in a biker jacket.

Ivy!

He didn't think, didn't need to really. He knew what he was doing. He became the ex-special forces soldier his booted feet stopped making any sound, his breathing shallowed, eyes zoning in the near-dark. He slipped the Sig Sauer into his hand, released the safety. The scuffle in front hiding the click.

Slipping close, he smirked. Ivy brought one of those spiked heels up, and rammed it down. It caught her attacker, sliding down his covered shin. Dwalin knew what that felt like, the scrape of a stiletto could be more searing than a KaBar knife.

The heel carried on down until it slipped between a leather loafer and sock. She was doing mighty fine, the mountain hissing in pain as she ground her heel into thin flesh, scraping bone likely.

Then the bastard cuffed her around the head. The chi-click of him pulling the slide back, chambering one of fifteen bullets his gun held, had the man pausing mid-struggle.

He pressed the barrel against the back of his neck, the man letting go, hands raising. Ivy staggered forward, hands holding her head, and swerving a little, before getting her bearings and spinning to face the man.

Eyes pinballing in her sockets, she finally settled her gaze, strolled up, "Son of a bitch," she cried at him and slugged the man, hitting him in the nose.

The man cried out, grabbed his face and bent over. Dwalin pulled his keys out, grabbed Ivy before she could lay into the stupid bastard again and headed for his bike.

"Glad to see you listened to me."

"Glad to see you saw it," she smirked back.

He threw his leg over, key in the ignition, he gunned the engine. "Don't get cocky now, Ace."

"Oh come on, you gotta give me some credit," she preened, "I did good."

"Yeah, but the whole point of that, is so you can run away. Now, get on the damn bike."

She rolled her eyes and slipped on behind him. He tore out the parking lot, forcing a screech from the lady.