"Glad to meet you," he said, shaking her outstretched hand. "I'm Joe. I own this place, have owned it for darn near 50 years now."

Mimi smiled, charmed by him. "Would you mind if I grabbed dinner quickly and started tomorrow? I should probably have a place to live before I commit to a job."

"Oh you don't worry about that. I'll give you Sue's number. She's my great niece. She'll find you a place, trust me." Joe started writing on a napkin what she a.s.sumed was Sue's number. She grabbed it when he was finished.

He started to make her up a plate and she dialed the number. An hour later she was on her way to meet Sue at a townhouse down the street. She took it instantly without even walking inside. Sue couldn't believe her good fortune.

Mimi grabbed her bags out of the car and unloaded what little she carried with her. It was mostly clothes and shoes; some furniture and some decor. Now that she knew she was staying, she'd have the movers bring some more of her things. She had left the last place pretty suddenly and hadn't wanted to spend the time packing that kind of stuff.

The next day she got up and showered and then wondered what type of clothes were appropriate for a barbeque joint. She settled on fitted white shorts and a flowy aqua top. She left her hair loose, but brought a ponytail holder just in case.

And here... we... go, she thought to herself.

Vance Alvarez was a man looking for something. He couldn't quite put his finger on just what yet, but he'd know it when he found it. He was the type of man that worked hard, enjoyed nice things, and took care of his own. Right now, his own was the Iron Soldier's Motorcycle Club. He'd been a part of it since he was 16 and had his license. Now, at 30, he was the youngest president in the club's history.

He had been in control and on his own practically since he could walk. He had been raised in the trailer park life. His mother was an alcoholic who couldn't take care of herself, much less a child. He had fed, clothed, and provided for himself since before he was a legal adult.

He wasn't bitter, although he would have every right to be. He really just refused to quit and that's how he got to where he was today.

And today had been a good day. They had a club meeting that went well. All motions were approved. Tonight, he was taking them all to Joe's BBQ. It had the best barbeque he'd ever tasted and he loved seeing Joe. He hoped the old man was going to be around for a while just like his dad before him.

They walked into the restaurant a little after dinnertime. First thing he noticed when he walked in was that it was busy. Occasionally, there were five or so groups eating, but not like tonight. He wondered how that young waitress was doing. He couldn't remember her name... something with a K? The waitresses here never seemed to last too long. He supposed catering to a bunch of bikers could be a little intimidating, but they meant well.

They moved some tables around and sat down. They took up half the busy restaurant and he felt a little bad for choking out the other business. He made a mental note to tip well. He took a seat himself, hanging his leather club jacket behind him on the chair. He engaged Bruce, one of the fellow members, in a heated conversation about making some mods to his bike.

"What can I get for you fellas to drink?" He heard the voice just behind him and half-turned in his seat to order. He was glad when Bruce spoke up because Vance wasn't 100% sure he was capable of regular speech at that moment.

He was used to that last waitress, whatever-her-name-was. She was kind of pretty, young, and fresh-looking. Not like this one. This one had trouble written all over her. She wasn't just pretty, she was stunning. She was pet.i.te but curvy, with tanned skin and long brown curly hair. She wasn't overly made up and he liked that. Her lips were pink and full and he wondered if they tasted as luscious as they looked.

When she got to him, he ordered a beer. She smiled at him, but she probably smiled at everyone he reasoned. She was like a siren when she smiled. He wanted to get closer to her.

Down boy, he ordered himself. He wasn't some young buck to start giving some pretty woman the puppy dog eyes.

They got their drinks and ordered food. He was surprised when she didn't write it down. The food even came out right and hot and she handed each plate to the right person on the first try. At one point one of the younger guys spilled his drink and she handled it like a pro.

Good for Joe, he thought. It's been high time he gets some decent help. And for himself, he was glad to have a pretty face and a nice rear end to ogle for all the time he spent here at Joe's.

They were tallying up the bill when he saw Dave pull aside their waitress. Dave was a known womanizer, but was really fairly harmless. When he saw Dave nudge her and wink, Vance resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He and his party started to get their jackets on so he used the opportunity to hover a little closer to where they were having their conversation.

"...and don't forget. It's Dave, just like... well, Dave." Vance was pretty sure if he were Dave, he'd just go throw himself off a bridge right about now.

She let out a little bit of a laugh and he gave her credit for trying.

"Yeah... I got that," she murmured.

"You wanna grab a bite to eat tomorrow night? I could show you around town!" Dave offered.

"Thanks, but I probably have to work." Vance doubted she would've wanted to go even if she had the night off, but he kept his thoughts to himself.

"How about Sunday night? Joe's only open until the afternoon anyway. We can hit a movie or you can just come hang out at my place," Dave wheedled.

Vance strained for her answer. She must've said no, because Dave tried again.

"What's the matter? Think you're too good for me, Sweetheart?

Vance clenched his fist. Dave was an idiot if he thought she was going to go out with him now.

"Not 'too good'. Just too not interested in losers," she retorted.

Vance bit back a smile. Good for her. Apparently she was not the type to take things lying down. He saw out of the corner of his eye Dave make a grab at her. Vance didn't stop to see what she did. He threw himself in Dave's direction and did a little body check.

Dave was thrust back and landed rather uncoordinated in a nearby chair. He brushed himself off and stood. "What the h.e.l.l was that, man?!" he shouted.

Vance was not the type to start a fight. His size made guys want to take him on and he hated that-he'd rather talk it out any day. But on the other hand, he was not going to let a poor waitress get a.s.saulted by some lowlife. Not in his club, not in his town.

"The lady said no," he responded, a deceptive air of indifference in his tone. He hadn't looked at the waitress yet, but felt her behind him. "Are you okay?" He asked her without looking.

"Yeah, I'm fine. No worries," she answered calmly. He wondered if she was always so calm. It seemed like it would take a lot to rattle her. He liked that in a woman.

"Get out of here, Dave, before I change my mind and give you a piece of it," he threatened. Dave looked like he was going to fight him on that for a second, but then thought better of it. He stalked out, calling his two buddies to his side before exiting.

Vance turned back toward her. "Sorry about that. I promise you, we're not all like that here."

She laughed. "If I got scared every time some stupid 'roid head came at me, I'd probably be in the nuthouse!"

He liked this woman. "What's your name?"

"Mimi. And you?" she asked as she began to wipe down their vacated table.

"Vance. We're part of the Iron Soldiers Motorcycle Club," he answered.

"I always wondered what a motorcycle club is really about," she said, excitedly.

"Well, most of the time it's a bunch of guys and some women that just want to get out on the open road and let their hair down, so to speak. Most of us are motor-heads that just need to get out of our office or whatever job we have. But it's more than that..." He went on to tell her all about the club and their members.

By the time they hit a lull in their conversation, it was dark out and he was into his fourth cup of coffee. The rest of the customers had gone home which was just fine with Vance. He helped her carry in a tray of used gla.s.ses. Leaning against the door jam, he tried to casually ask, "So where are you staying then? It seems like a pretty hectic life, moving around that much."

"You say hectic, I say exciting," she joked. " Joe's niece got me a place on Walnust Street. It's not much, but I call it home. Could definitely do without the leaky faucet though. Drives me crazy at night!"

Vance saw his opening and wasn't about to miss it. "Ross is the best plumber in town, although if it's seriously just a leaky faucet, I can do that for you."

Mimi paused for a moment, her hand hesitating on putting the gla.s.s into the washer. Was this guy for real? First he had helped her get rid of an unwanted sc.u.mbag. Now, he was offering to fix her faucet? Plus, it didn't hurt that he was pretty d.a.m.n fun to look at. Just watching him drink coffee had her all hot and bothered. Add to that his dangerous aura and the whole motorcycle thing and yeah, he was a very good catch.

"That'd be great," she said slowly, trying to weigh the downside to this. "Problem is, I'm always at work and I only have one key."

"Why don't we just do it tonight? I'm sure I can be in and out faster than you think," Vance said, mentally kicking himself for the unintentional innuendo.

"That sounds perfect!" she replied. She finished putting away the dishes and gathered up her things.

They drove separately and met up at her little townhouse. They walked up the steps to her front door. When she stepped inside, Vance was pleasantly surprised. He had figured she'd live cheap and spa.r.s.e, but the place was actually decorated pretty nicely. She obviously hadn't painted or anything, but there were feminine vases and paintings up so it at least felt like someone was living there.

She showed him to the kitchen and the leak. He had grabbed some tools out of his bike and got started while she made some tea. They chatted back and forth, him laying under the sink on his back and her, leaning against the kitchen countertop. It was as if they'd been old friends. They talked about past, present, and future and Mimi was surprised at how freely she was telling him these things. Normally, she was a fairly private person. No point making relationships when she was just going to leave in a few months.

He finished up and tested the handle and the plug. Satisfied with his work, he collected his tools. Not wanting to leave, he bent back down and started twisting off the screw holding the valve together. Thinking he was done, she reached up and tried out the faucet.

Water started shooting out of what seemed like everywhere. It came out of the top part of the faucet and drenched the top half of her body. The water practically drowned him underneath the sink. He reacted faster than Mimi, shutting off the valve completely.

They both looked at each other, adrenaline rushing through their veins.

"I'm s-s-sorry," she gasped.

He thought she might be ready to cry. He stood and reached out a hand to comfort her. When he saw her shoulders shaking he realized she was laughing, not crying. Her laughter was contagious and soon after he started chuckling to himself as well. He tried to dry himself off, but no part of him was dry any longer. Even his boots squished.

Laughing, she tugged him down to the bedroom. He followed her past the bedroom into what was clearly her bathroom. She grabbed two fluffy towels out of the linen closet and handed one to him, squeezing the water out of her hair with hers.

He ignored the towel she gave him and watched her instead. Her cheeks were flushed and pink, the curve of her smile beckoning to him. He tried not to stare, but her shirt was plastered to her chest and he could see her light blue bra. And what an amazing chest it was.

Mimi saw him staring at her chest and hid a secret smile. Who wouldn't want a hot guy like that staring at you? He seemed to approve, growing silent and licking his lips. He reminded her of a wolf waiting to devour its prey. She looked him over as well. His white cotton undershirt was sopping wet and transparent. She could see that he had mirrored tattoos on his lower abdomen and that his chest was smooth and tan. She was pretty sure she'd never seen a body this good that wasn't on a magazine or on TV.

She unconsciously reached out a hand to touch his tattoos. She tried to grab it back but-too late-he caught her hand and held it in his. Her eyes rose to his and her nostrils flared, breathing in his scent. She didn't recognize his cologne, but she was sure it was committed to memory now. It was earthy and rich, something she figured fit him perfectly.

Vance was not going to let this go; he was not going to let her go. He had never wanted someone so badly so fast. He reached out and lightly placed his hand behind her neck. He rested it there softly, allowing her ample time to run away or make some excuse to go back to the kitchen. She didn't do either of those things. She just stood there, waiting for him to make the move.

He leaned forward, tilted her chin up, and kissed her square on the lips. For a second, she didn't move. He started to worry she was just letting him kiss her. He was just about to back away when she came at him full force. She returned each advance, sucking on his bottom lip in a fashion that made him even harder than he already was.

He opened her mouth wider and slipped his tongue inside. Their tongues did a dance, sliding and licking each other. He heard a moan-couldn't tell if it was him or her. His arm brought her the rest of the way against him and he loved the way her body felt against him. She was all soft and womanly; he was all hard and masculine.

He withdrew and she made a small mewl of protest, but he took one step back to remove his shirt. He saw her eyes gleam in the low light and thought she looked like a tiny cat before a saucer of milk. He grabbed her shirt by the hem and lifted it up over her head. He was expecting her to cover herself, but apparently she was a woman comfortable in her own skin.

She angled her arm back and removed her bra, letting it fall to the floor. His eyes roamed over her body, taking mental notes of her high, perfect b.r.e.a.s.t.s and pink nipples. She had a little tattoo peaking out over her shorts and he thumbed it absentmindedly. She shivered. He undid the b.u.t.tons on her shorts and slid them over her legs. Then he threw them back on the floor, not caring where they landed.

He shucked off his own jeans and then pulled her backward onto the bed. They landed together, her on top of him. He kissed her again, trailing his lips down to her throat and collarbone. She tilted her head up and away, giving him full access of her soft fragrant skin.

When his lips latched onto her nipple, she inhaled deeply. She pulled his head closer to her, and he nipped at her playfully. In response, she tugged his arms free and bent them up over his head. She stretched out along him, all her peaks and valleys resting on top of his. With her arms holding his and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s crushed against his bare chest, she repeated his actions. She kissed his throat, sucked on his nipple, and then stretched to kiss his two tattoos.

Vance took in a deep breath and shuddered when he felt her feather light kisses on his lower belly. It felt amazing. He had never had a woman so interested in his tattoos there. When she bent to place a kiss on the tip of his member, he jerked and caught her calf.

"Not this time, Little One," he murmured. He grabbed her other calf and flipped her so he was lying on top of her. She rubbed up against him, the little minx. He tugged her panties down her leg and without warning placed his mouth on top of her womanhood. She spasmed, fingers clenched in his hair. It didn't take long to bring her to o.r.g.a.s.m. Soon she was shaking and begging for him to be inside her.

He slid only the tip of his head inside her; enveloped by her scorching heat. He groaned as she twisted, trying to force more of him inside her. He held her still and started moving forward into her, inch by agonizing inch. He heard her groan when he was fully inside. She was stretching around him and he didn't want to hurt her. Although, she didn't seem to hurt. Really, she was thrusting up against him and getting herself off in the process.

He bent down and put his arms behind her back. Lifting her up against him, they ended with him sitting upright and she on top of him, wrapped around him. He groaned, feeling the delicious friction every time he lifted her up and sank her back down on top of him. She was breathing heavily and he knew he was close too. When she starting sucking on his earlobe he lost all control. He started to thrust faster and harder into her until she was letting out breathy screams and moaning, fists clenched in the sheets.

He held it up as long as he could and then exploded into her. He felt her clenching around him and was lost in the bliss of o.r.g.a.s.m.

What felt like hours later, he lifted her up and under the covers so they were both tucked in. He opened his mouth to ask if he needed to move his bike out of the way of her car, but realized she was asleep. Her brows relaxed and her face curled into a soft smile and he knew he was enamored with her already. He tugged her close so that she was cuddled up against him.

He awoke to the sound of birds at the window. It was light outside, which was surprising. Normally, he was an early riser. He was almost always up before dawn. Memories of the night before trickled into his mind and he reached for Mimi. What he got was... nothing. She was gone.

He became fully awake and looked around the room. He saw she had picked up after them and put his clothes neatly on the chaise at the bottom of the bed. He got up and stretched. After getting dressed, he walked into the kitchen and saw the pot of coffee and a note.

Thanks for fixing the faucet - Mimi He crushed up the letter in his hand. The faucet? Really? That's what she was grateful for? There was no mention of the previous night, or how to get ahold of her, or when he would see her next. And Vance Alvarez was not a patient man. He grabbed his jacket, locked up her house, and got on his bike. He drove home, showered, and headed into work. At lunchtime, he brought his coworkers to Joe's.

Mimi saw him walk in with another group of people. She a.s.sumed they were coworkers since they were dressed in business casual. She glanced over him quickly and realized that, though he was hot as h.e.l.l in casual gear, he was gorgeous in his dress pants and b.u.t.ton-down shirt.

She served their table, treating him as she normally would a paying a customer. By the end of the meal, she could see his temper rise. There was a pulse beating on his temple and his gaze never left hers.

He left her a generous tip and had written next to his signature See you tonight babe. Her heart beat a nervous pattern. She wasn't sure why, but him wanting to see her tonight made her nervous.

He pulled up in front of her door at promptly seven o'clock. She had been waiting and was excited to see him. He gave her a hug and a kiss then took her to the steakhouse on the other side of town. They went to his place afterwards.

It went on like that for two months. Every night they spent together, Mimi got more attached, and a little more anxious that leaving could be harder than ever before.

One night after they had their typical dinner and she was snuggled up against him on the couch watching the football game, he mentioned her apartment.

"How much longer do you have on your lease?" he asked her.

She thought for a minute. "I'm not really sure. I left it as a month-to-month. I just have to give her 30 days to try and re-rent it. Why?"

He reached for one of her feet and started to rub circles into the arch. She sighed. This was heaven. "I was thinking about making an offer on that house two streets down, the one that I showed you before."

She was surprised. "But why now? I thought you said when you had a family. Doesn't it have like six bedrooms and a pool?"

"Mmm... something like that. I figured now is as good a time as any. You can't be wanting to stay in your apartment forever," he added.

Mimi sat straight up, the chips and dip and football game long forgotten. "What are you saying, Vance?"

He shrugged. "Not saying anything. Just making an observation. You haven't painted or anything so I a.s.sumed you'd be leaving that place pretty quickly."

"I am," she a.s.serted. "But I'm not just leaving there, I'm leaving this town. You know that."

"Well, I know that you were planning on leaving, but you're not still planning on that... right?" He asked, his voice edging upwards.

"Vance, I'm still leaving," she declared obstinately.

"The h.e.l.l you are," he answered.

"I'm leaving, I said! And not you or anyone in this town is going to change my mind. Frankly right now, I'd like to leave this minute!" she stated defiantly.

"Oh calm down, Mimi. You're being ridiculous."

She stood up and put her hands on her hips.

He sighed inwardly. Stubborn female.

"I'm not being ridiculous. I'm being... me. You know how I am; what I want. I wanted you, and now I don't," she said, daring him to say otherwise.

He didn't disappoint. Answering her back with just a tinge of frustration and anger, "You want me, and I want you. Now relax, and let's finish the game. We'll talk about this later."