Page 25 of Making Her His

And she wouldn’t take his calls.

Wouldn’t answer his texts.


Shut him out completely.

He was chasing a ghost.

It wasn’t as if he could blame her. She had too much class for him. But, then, he could be angry with her about that, too. If he didn’t measure up, what business did she have going to bed with him?

It’s not as if you didn’t practically kidnap her, a little voice nagged at him. She sure didn’t seem to mind.

Great. Now he was arguing with himself. But he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

The softness of her skin.

How her eyes burned with desire.

The sweetness of her—

He had to stop this. His cock stirred at these memories, and now he was getting pissed. Not at her. But at himself for being a sucker for a woman who didn’t want him. “Later,” he called to Sheldon as he pushed off his stool.

Sheldon waved at him as he left. His bike rumbled under him as he started it up. A good ride would clear his head. He pulled out on the road, fishtailing because he revved the engine too fast. But it felt good to push the bike and demand control. It was the one thing he could regulate, how he drove on the road. He opened up the engine.

Even though he knew he shouldn’t.

The four-lane highway that passed through the town reservoir on the way to work was a well-known speed trap. Worse yet, it was a speed trap set irregularly by state, not local cops, so he should’ve been smarter about riding on that road. But Chrissy’s rejection burned a fire into him that only seemed to gather force as the days passed. By Thursday, he was nearly blind to everything on the road but the concrete under him and the car in front of him.

A car, limping along under the posted speed limit of forty miles per hour, annoyed him. He’d never get to work at this rate. So, he pulled around it to the left and sped up.

But the car, seeing Saks pass him, decided just at that moment to accelerate, which forced Saks to increase his speed. Finally, he pulled past the car.

And headed right into the speed trap.

Immediately a police cruiser pulled out after him, lights blazing and sirens screaming.

Saks pulled to the side of the road and cursed his own stupidity. And the driver for screwing him off. When he saw the trooper pulling stiffly out of his cruiser with his hand on his holster, he figured he was in trouble. When the officer’s eyes cased Saks’ leather Hades’ Spawn jacket and he coldly asked for his license and registration, Saks knew he'd receive no mercy.

“Sir,” said the officer in a deadly level voice, “are you aware of the speed you were traveling?”

“Not exactly, Officer. I was trying to pass a car.”

The trooper nodded his head curtly, as if getting the answer he’d expected. “Wait here.”

The minutes ticked as the cop checked for wants and warrants on Saks, and probably stolen vehicle reports on Saks’ motorcycle, and probably his whole fucking life history. Oakie, the club president, wouldn’t be happy with this new development. He’d made it quite clear that each of the Spawn had to keep their shit straight. The legal troubles of the previous year put a blazing bullseye on each of the club members, and bad behavior of one reflected on the others.

On his return, the officer’s boot crunched on the sand gathered on the side of road, left behind by from winter road sanding. “Sir, step away from the vehicle.”

Now what? Saks thought. Saks swung off his bike and kicked the stand to hold it upright.

“Put your hands over your head.”

Saks, well-schooled by his father, did what he was told.

“Have you’ve been drinking, sir?”

“I had one beer at the Red Bull. You can ask them. I run a tab there.”

Wrong answer.

“Do you often drink and drive, sir?”

One freaking beer, Saks screamed to himself. That I didn’t even finish! “It’s not a habit,” he said instead.

“You’ll need to submit to a breathalyzer.”

Now shit was getting serious. He doubted he was over the legal limit, but he didn’t like submitting to a breathalyzer. However, if he refused, the state could automatically suspend his license. “Sure, Officer.”

Saks said nothing as the cop walked to his cruiser. He looked at his watch and realized he was now twenty minutes late. Luke would be waiting for him to return before he went out to grab his own lunch, since Emily was taking their baby, Robbie, to a doctor’s visit. Luke would be calling him to find out what the holdup was, and the last thing Saks wanted to do was answer his phone. Cops got touchy about that, too.

The trooper returned, holding the breathalyzer machine. “Sir, blow into the tube, and keep blowing until I tell you to stop.”

Saks puffed through the thing as the officer held it. Cars whizzed past, safe from the predations of law enforcement. He grew more annoyed by the minute.

“Stop.”

Saks stood there seething, while the trooper looked at the machine.

“Put your hands on your head and spread your legs.”

What? Now things were getting worse. A pat-down. Though he had nothing on him, or ever did, to get him arrested all he had to do was flinch and this guy could arrest him for resisting.

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