by Brook Wilder
Jill took one of my beers. “Are you here to judge me a little more?”
I set my beer on the table. “I’m here to make peace about earlier. I was out of line.”
Her lips parted in surprise. “Is that an apology?”
I nodded. “You want it on record? It doesn’t happen very often.”
Jill just stared at me. “I can’t believe you are apologizing to me. Hold on, let me get my cell phone.”
Chuckling, I took another swig of my beer. “Sorry, it was a one and done. I’m not saying it again.”
Smiling, she tilted her beer toward me. “Touché. Apology accepted.”
We sat in companionable silence, listening to the cover band, before I put my empty bottle on the table, reaching for another. “So, Jill Anders. What are you after?”
The bottle paused halfway to her lips. “The truth?”
I shrugged. “Aren’t we all?”
She took a sip before setting it on the table. “I’m looking for a story. I heard about this biker club that is involved with the cartel, the government, and practically every other scumbag from here to Mexico City. That’s why I am here.”
Well, shit. At least she was being honest. “And what do you intend to do with the information you find out?”
Jill laughed. “What do you think, Keith?”
“Are you looking for your creds, then?” I asked softly, hoping that she knew I wasn’t being the same person I had been earlier. I was just curious about what drove her to want this story so badly and while I thought I had an idea, I wanted to hear it from her lips.
Her expression clouded over and a faraway look entered her eyes. “No, I’m looking for retribution.”
I chewed on her words. Her retribution could destroy the family I found, and good people too. It could tear apart families, send a shitload of people I cared about to prison for a very long time.
“Have you thought about the consequences?” I asked her quietly. “There are families involved, people who love each other. Your retribution could destroy a lot of people.”
Jill swallowed, looking down at her bottle, but with very little remorse in her expression. I wasn’t expecting her to have much. After all, this was what she did for a living, and who was I to judge her? “Of course I have. I think about that every time I put words to paper. I’m not careless. I only report the facts. After all, I didn’t make their choices.”
She had me there. I had come into the picture after a lot of shit had happened with both sides of the clubs, but every move the clubs made, or that I made, had consequences, consequences that could ruin a person or even get them killed. Both sides had lost a hell of a lot of members to the violence that they lived in on a daily basis. Families were destroyed every time we lost a brother or sister in arms, and I had attended more than one funeral over the last several months that proved that point. Violence was part of the gig, but it never got any easier. “You’re right,” I finally said. “It was their choice to go down those paths. We all have made some bad fucking choices, though.”
Her laugh was harsh. “You’re right about that. I’ve had my fair share.”
I cleared my throat, trying not to think about the choices I had read about Jill making. How much of it did she regret? Did she have her own thoughts about what she would do differently given another chance? At least we were still alive to have those conversations with ourselves. Some weren’t that lucky. “We are willing to make you a deal.”
She sat up in her chair, attempting not to look eager and failing badly. “Excuse me?”
“The clubs,” I stated. “They are willing to release information to you on our behalf, but the moment you step out of fucking line, we will come after you.”
There was a light in Jill’s eye that wasn’t there before. “You know that’s not how this is supposed to work, right?”
“I know. But unless you have a better source, we’re all you’ve got.” I answered, feeling like I had just helped her win the lottery. “A little FYI: If you fuck over either club, I will come after you myself.”
“Okay, I got it,” she said with a light laugh. “I will let them read everything I write, okay? So, what’s the first thing you’ll tell me.”
I settled in my chair, stretching my legs under the table. “The Rough Jesters and the Hell’s Bitches joined forces a few years ago but maintained two separate councils. Before that, the Rough Jesters did some shit for the cartel, minor jobs.”
She mimicked my stance. “Go on.”
I thought about my words before I relayed them to her, not wanting to give too much information to a journalist. That would be nothing but ammunition for her to do whatever she wanted with it and I did not want to be the clubs’ downfall.
So, I told her about the involvement with the cartel, leaving out some of the major stories that had led to Alisha being the chief of police and the fact that we were on the verge of uncovering the CIA involvement through the accounts.
It wasn’t a hell of a lot, and I could tell by Jill’s expression when I finished that she wasn’t impressed. “That’s it?” she asked.
“That’s it,” I answered, reaching for another beer. “That’s all you get right now.”
Jill sighed. “Can I say that I am disappointed?”
“Sure,” I laughed, holding the ice-cold bottle in my hand. “Just know that I wasn’t the one that disappointed you.”
She laughed. “You’re a terrible storyteller.”
I arched a brow. “I will concede to that, but only that.”
Jill smirked. “You are very sure of yourself, Keith.”
Little did she know that was far from the truth. I could play this game with her though. She brought it out in me, and I felt like a completely different guy when I was around her. Hell, she wasn’t pissed at me. That was a first.
“Can I ask what your biker name is?” she said after a moment. “I mean, I’m sure you have one, right?”
I grinned. “Wires.”
“Wires?” she repeated. “Oh, there is a story there, isn’t it? Let me guess, you’re good with computers.”
“Guilty,” I admitted, finding no reason not to share that with her.
I could see her wheels turning in her head, probably how to frame another pointed question that she could get me to answer. Jill didn’t have to worry about it. My guard was up against her and I wasn’t going to let a damn word come out of my mouth without thinking it through first. No amount of beer was going to fog me up that badly.
“So, Wires. Are you going out with that girl from earlier today?”
Her question surprised me. There was a dull flush across her cheeks and not just from the beer either. “Sabs?”
Jill shrugged. “Sure. You looked like it. I mean, I could tell y’all are close.”
I took a long pull off my beer, making her squirm in her seat just a little while longer before I answered. “Sabs and I are friends. Have been since high school. She’s married now and is the reason I got involved in the club in the first place.”
“She doesn’t look like a biker,” Jill said quickly. “What’s her story? This club is so unconventional.”
I caught on to what she was trying to do and shook my head, a grin on my face. “That’s not my story to tell.”
“Oh come on!” Jill said. “You’ve got to give me more than you have, Keith. It’s not fair.”
“That’s all I can do. Sorry.”
Jill stuck out her lower lip and I groaned inwardly, feeling my cock tighten uncomfortably in my jeans. That was a fucking sexy-ass look on her and I wanted to take that lip in my mouth and suck on it until she gasped in pleasure.
Damn.
Something in her expression changed too and she was staring at my mouth, running her tongue over her lips, leaving a wet trail behind.
She wanted me.
“Can I ask a question?” she finally said, her voice hitched.
“Yeah,” I forced out, willing my cock to subside. I didn’t wan
t her to know how much she affected me.
She motioned to the remaining beer. “Can we take this back somewhere else?”
“The beers? They don’t do drinks to-go here.”
“No, I mean this conversation. You and me.”
Trying to lighten the mood, I leaned forward. “Are you trying to get in my pants?”
Rolling her eyes, Jill picked up her beer. “No more than you have been trying to get into mine.”
“Oh, you would know if I was,” I said softly.
Jill looked at me and burst into laughter. “You are too much, Keith, really. They should give you another name, like Smooth Talker, because that’s all you have been doing with me. You better be glad I like you.”
I arched a brow. “You like me?”
Her cheeks flushed and she looked away, clearly embarrassed that she had said that out loud. “Yeah. I do.”
“Well I think I like you too, Jill.”
Our eyes collided and I saw the same heat in her depths that I was feeling in my own body. Damn, I wanted her. I wanted her writhing under me, moaning my name as I drilled into her. I wanted to forget that she was out to get the club and that I was just a computer geek. “Where are you staying?”
“Motel,” she breathed. “Motel Castillo.”
“That’s a shithole,” I frowned, thinking about the rundown motel near the highway. It wasn’t safe for anyone to stay there, much less a single woman.
“Hey, I’m on a budget,” she offered up. “Times are hard, which is why I need this story to come to fruition, Keith. I’m struggling.”
Draining my beer, I stood. “Come on. We can go to my place. Got plenty more beer there.”
She stood as well, a hint of wariness in her expression. “Are you sure you want a journalist in your house?”
“No,” I answered, holding out my hand. “I want you to come to my house.” I wanted us to forgo our professions tonight, to hang out like two people normally would. I wanted to drink with her, take it to whatever we decided to do after we were done drinking. If she wanted to go back to her motel, I would take her back.
If she wanted to stay the night, well, I wasn’t about to turn that down either.
But first, she would have to take my hand.
Jill’s expression softened and she placed her hand in mine. “Mount up, lover boy.”
My grin was quick, my blood thrumming through my veins at the thought of her in my place, my domain. I was putting a lot of faith in Jill by allowing her in my house and I hoped she knew that. “It’s not much.”
She squeezed my hand, a tentative smile on her face. “It will be enough.”
Yeah, that was what I was scared about. Something had been built between us tonight and though I knew I couldn’t trust her, I sure as hell was finding myself wanting to.
Chapter 13
Jill
I pulled my car into the empty space next to Keith’s car and shut off the engine, my hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. I wasn’t quite sure what I was doing or if it was a good idea.
But it felt like it was the right thing to do. When he had showed up at the bar, I had nearly squealed in excitement. Of all the people that could walk into the bar tonight, I was glad that it had been him.
When he had joined me at the table with the beer and launched into an easy conversation, I had felt myself start to relax, which had been the intent of tonight’s activities.
Now, I was going home with Keith.
Drawing in a breath, I forced myself to release the steering wheel and open the door. I was nervous. I couldn’t believe that I was nervous. Keith was going to be the first guy I had been with since Julian, the first guy that I wanted since Julian.
My knees were weak and not just from the alcohol I had consumed.
I met Keith in front of his car, and he motioned to the two-story building. “My apartment is up there.”
“Is there a reason we are still standing out here then?” I asked hesitantly.
Keith’s expression was soft. “I wanted to give you a chance.”
“To run?” I asked with a laugh.
He chuckled. “Something like that.”
It was perhaps the nicest thing someone had done for me in a long time. I appreciated the fact that he was trying to give me a choice. No one else had given me this sort of choice.
I wasn’t about to squash this opportunity and it had nothing to do with the story. While I was glad I now had the inside contact I had been looking for and a little more information, this was all about me tonight.
I stepped forward until I was nearly nose-to-chest with him, forgetting how tall he was. “I want to be with you tonight, Keith.” Even if it was just us drinking and passing out without wild sex, it was more than I could ever have in my own motel room.
He nodded and I followed him up the stairs, waiting until he opened the door to his apartment before following him inside. Keith flipped on the lights and I was not at all surprised to see the massive amount of computer equipment in his living room. “Going for a new interior design?” I teased as he shut the door behind us.
“Yeah, I was thinking Geek Squad,” he chuckled. “You caught me. I’m a computer geek, Jill. There’s not a whole lot exciting about me. I’m not the badass biker the rest of them are.”
His words were genuine, and my heart melted. I had known from the beginning that he wasn’t the typical biker type, but for him to admit it took guts.
That, and I was filing it away for future use. So, sue me. “So tell me what you have here.”
“You’re joking, right?” he asked, hopefulness lighting in his expression.
I walked over to the mound of wires and computers. “I mean, I don’t know much about computers other than how to turn on my laptop, but yeah, I would like to get inside your head a little bit.”
He rubbed a hand over his hair as he joined me at the desk. “No one’s ever asked me that before.”
I smiled up at him. “There’s a first time for everything.”
His eyes darkened and he leaned down, brushing his lips over mine. The electric shock startled me for a mere second before I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into a deeper kiss. His tongue found mine and I moaned low in my throat, my body suddenly too hot for my clothes.
I wanted them off and I wanted his hands all over me.
“Damn,” Keith whispered against my mouth. “I want you so fucking bad.”
“Then don’t stop,” I answered, my hands already finding the hem of his T-shirt. I didn’t want to lose my nerve with this.
I needed this.
He chuckled and kissed me slowly this time, his mouth sucking on my lower lip, nibbling at the corners as his hands started to roam over my back. I slipped my own hand under his shirt, caressing the cut abdomen sprinkled with coarse hair with my fingers. It wasn’t just an illusion. Keith was cut.
Keith growled and broke our kiss, grasping the neck of his T-shirt and pulling it over his head so that I could feast on his body. “You’re beautiful,” I whispered, my hands touching his hard contours.
“It hasn’t always been this way,” he admitted as I traced his flat nipple with my fingernail. “Trust me.”
I looked up at him, seeing the vulnerable look in his eyes, and knew I was about to go in deep. Had anyone loved this man before?
If they hadn’t, it was a shame. “It doesn’t matter what happened in the past. This is about us.” I wasn’t sure what ‘us’ meant yet, but I wanted him to forget like I was forgetting for tonight.
We would figure the rest out later.
His hand cupped my cheek, his thumb sliding over my skin. “You’re right, Jill. Fuck the past.”
I smiled. “Fuck the past.”
When his lips met mine this time, there was some urgency behind his kiss, like he had turned loose something inside. I whimpered as his hand cupped my breast through my shirt, my hands frantically working on his belt of his jeans. I had urgency too. I wanted to be take
n hard and fast, wherever he wanted to take me. I wanted to feel again.
I wanted to let go.
I finally succeeded in working out his belt and pushed at his waistband until his jeans were falling to the floor in a thud. “What are you doing?” he asked as I slid out of his touch and down to my knees.
Oh God, he was huge. I instantly became wet as I took him in for the first time, my thumb brushing against the swollen head.
