Oil and Leather: A Biker Erotic Romance (Free Devils MC) by A. L. Summers Page A

tight leather pants, her solid boots planted firmly on the floor. She placed her empty bottle back on the bar, smiling at Terri who was behind it. Pushing fifty, Terri was the wife of her father's right-hand man, Lawrence. She was a Godsend, as far as Kat was concerned. She was as tough as nails and took no crap from anyone. Terri taught a young Kat how to hold her own in a man's world. Kat still turned to her the most for help. Her own mother died before she could even really remember her. Kat knew she was lucky to have this pillar of knowledge and strength in her life.
     
    Many a bottle had been broken over a rowdy idiot's head when the bar was closing, courtesy of Terri's hand.
     
    Kat slung plenty of right hooks herself when club meetings turned into physical “debates.” No one ever dared strike her back; yet, it still embarrassed her when someone picked her up and slung her over a shoulder. She supposed that’s what came with being smaller than everyone else. It happened enough that Kat figured this was her due when the men wouldn't fight her. Still, Kat knew she could hold her own. That's what mattered.
     
    Leaning against the bar, she watched curiously as the man of the hour made his way towards her. Saenz cut through the crowd with ease, as though he'd always been there. He smiled and shook his empty beer bottle despondently when he stopped in front of her.
     
    "Do you think I could get another beer?" he asked.
     
    Kat raised an eyebrow, straightened up, and looked him in the eye. "Probably. While you're at it, you can get me one, too."
     
    Behind her, she could hear Terri and the other bar staff howl with laughter as Saenz's face fell. "Oh. Shit, sorry. I thought…" He trailed off sheepishly, but Kat wasn't letting him get away with it that easily.
     
    "You thought what? That I had a pair of tits, so my job is to provide you with refreshments? Sorry, babe. The only woman who had that job was your mother and even that ended a long time ago."
     
    "Hey," he frowned, tilting his head at her, "that's a bit harsh."
     
    “No," Kat smiled. "Harsh would be my father coming over here to beat your ass for disrespecting his little girl, but lucky for you I don't need my family to fight my battles."
     
    "Who's your father?"
     
    Kat's smile grew bigger. "Guess."
     
    To her surprise, he burst into laughter. "Fucking brilliant," he said, shaking his head. "You'd be Kat, then." He held out his hand, calloused in the way a rider's hands always were. After a moment's pause, Kat grasped it in return.
     
    "Here," Terri passed a beer over the bar to each of them, "before you have a stroke, young man."
     
    He took it with a thanks and tipped Kat a salute. His eyes roved smoothly up and down her body in a way she didn't experience all that often. She didn't know whether to be offended or flattered. Before she could make up her mind, he stared resolutely at her face once more and gave her a wink.
     
    "Well, if I don't get murdered by your kinfolk in my sleep, I look forward to seeing you again, Kat Vaughn." He sauntered off. Kat watched him go with a grudgingly admirable look. She glanced over her shoulder as Terri let out an appreciative whistle. Terri hummed in agreement, as they both watched his denim clad ass move into the crowd.
     
    "He's going to be trouble, that one." Terri sounded altogether too pleased with her statement and Kat found herself agreeing with her. She took a long gulp, trying to cool the heat she suddenly noticed had spread across her body. It really was a fine ass.
     
    "I hope so," she whispered.
     
    ***
     
    Kat appeared to be getting her wish. Over time, Saenz sought her out more and more often. Despite the clash at their first meeting, he seemed to be interested in her enough to look past the tough girl front she wore to be taken seriously.
     
    She was definitely interested enough to drop that mask, just enough to appear receptive to his interest. Whatever that interest may be. If he just