“Hey, Red, lemme get that.” She looked up to see Curtis “Taco” Nash headed her way with a glint in his eye and a smirk on his face. “Sexy lady like you shouldn’t be doing the heavy lifting. Leave the dirty work to the men.” He was a total flirt, especially with her. They’d had a few romps, but it wasn’t anything serious. Just two friends scratching an itch.
She held up her hands, allowing him to heft the garbage over his shoulder and walk it the rest of the way to the dumpster. “Thanks, hon,” she said as he swaggered back over, lighting a cigarette as he did.
He was sexy, she had to admit. Young, fit, tall, and slim. He had a little muscle under all that leather and denim, and he knew how to work his stick like a pro. He’d be a perfect bedtime snack, she mused.
Squinting as he blew out smoke, he scanned her face. “Kinda past your bedtime, no?”
Plucking the cigarette from his fingers, she brought it to her lips and took a drag. She wasn’t a smoker, per se, but he loved when she did that, so she did it just to fuck with him.
“Damn, Red…” He grunted as if in pain. And sure enough, he reached down and shifted a rapidly hardening cock.
“What do you say to a threesome,” she offered with a sultry smile. “You, me, and my bed?”
His grin was wicked, and he stepped into her, tall enough to force her to tilt her head to meet his eyes. Bumping the tip of her nose with his, he reclaimed the cigarette and wrapped his lips around the lipstick print she’d left behind, taking a long, contemplative puff as he held her stare. When he blew it out, his voice was a harsh rasp that shot tingles of awareness straight to her core. “Normally, I’d be all over that, but I’m not looking to get my dick rerouted to my ass.”
Alarms went off in her head. He started to walk away, but Ginger grabbed onto his arm, towing his shapely ass back. “What the hell does that mean?”
Glancing over his shoulder, he flicked a look at her hand, waiting until she released him to respond. “Word is you’re taken, babe. Not a man in here is gonna risk touchin’ that sweet pussy unless he’s looking to get gutted with his own toenail.”
Stunned, Ginger watched him as he joined up with some random chick—probably a civilian groupie. Taken? By whom? The last thing Ginger was, was taken. She might entertain dreams of being exclusive from time to time, but that didn’t mean she was crazy enough to do it. That’s how women got trapped into a loveless and completely one-sided relationship. She’d been there once, and she’d be damned if she went there again. It was so much nicer being responsible for just one person, never having to answer to anyone about anything.
So, who the fuck was spreading lies about her? Staring at the clubhouse walls, her brain worked overtime trying to puzzle it out. No one she could think of would have the inclination nor the balls to pull this kind of bullshit unless he was certifiable or a complete asshole with a god complex—
Repo.
Her first reaction was to dismiss the thought entirely. He wasn’t any more inclined to settle down than she was. Except…
When was the last time she’d seen him take another woman to his room? Had to be months. And when was the last time they’d had sex together? A couple days ago. And it’d been happening more and more lately. Last time, after she’d finished sucking his cock, he’d even offered her to stay the night in his bed, something he never did.
And tonight…He was the only man to touch her. The only man willing to. And then he’d all but told her to get lost. With a fucking smile on his face.
Sonofabitch! Her gaze fell on the bar once more. More specifically, to the bucket nestled below it. Her upper lip curled back from her teeth in a dark smile as a plan was hatched.
THREE
“Holy shit! Motherfucker!” Repo shot awake from a dead sleep feeling like his lungs had been ripped from his goddamn chest and his balls were clawing their way back up into his body. He was soaked from head to toe in ice cold water, and cubes the size of golf balls surrounded him. Hell, he had red welts rising all over his chest and abs already.
Ginger stood at the foot of his bed holding an empty ice bucket and the evilest fucking smile he’d ever seen, and he’d worked with some sinister bastards in his many years.
“Are you fucking insane? Jesus H. Christ, woman, you’ve lost your damned mind! Get me a fuckin’ towel.” He used his hand to wipe some of the freezing water from his chest, shaking his head at the mess. A trickle of frosty water slipped through his butt crack, raising his ire.
Ginger didn’t move an inch. Instead, she lifted the arm holding the bucket and threw it at him. Repo barely had time to block it before it hit him, cracking his forearm. That shit was going to bruise.
“You asshole!” Ginger shouted. “Did you tell everyone that I’m spoken for?”
Ah, so that’s what this was about. Repo knew she’d flip her wig when she found out. He just didn’t think it would be this soon. Smart cookie. He liked that. The corner of his mouth lifted as he carefully extracted himself from the bed, cursing up a storm as an errant ice cube that’d gotten trapped in his waistband melted enough to slip inside and settle against his balls. He did a little jig, reached inside, and fished around until he found it, then threw it on the bed with a scowl.
The entire bed was soaked. And it wasn’t even dawn yet. He was going to have to find another bed to sleep in. Good thing he knew where to find one. Grabbing a pair of lounge pants, he started for the door, ignoring the hellcat puffing her nostrils at him. God, what a fucking turn on. He loved when the woman got feisty. Loved the way her cheeks flushed red, just like her hair, and her chest heaved. So aggressive, so passionate. She was that way with everything she did. And he’d borne the scratches on his back a time or two to prove it.
“Where do you think you’re going? You’d better answer me, Repo!” Ginger was hot on his heels.
“What do you want me to say?”
“How about the truth. You told everyone I was taken, didn’t you? You told them to stay away from me? Threatened them?”
Damn right he had. And he was glad to know they’d listened. Bloodshed was exhausting. “So what if I did.”
Her open palm cracked down between his shoulder blades, setting off a blaze of fire in one concentrated area. Repo didn’t even flinch. Instead, he gritted his teeth and kept walking, resisting the urge to swing around and pin her ass up against the nearest wall, get in her gorgeous face, and lay down the law then and there.
She needed to vent her anger against him? Fine, he’d give her a more productive outlet.
“Stop walking away from me, asshole!” He didn’t stop walking because if he did, he knew shit was going to go down right there, where everyone could see, and no one got to see what was his. Not unless it was the last thing they ever wanted to see again.
He picked up his pace, sensing time was of the essence. His throbbing cock certainly seemed to think so. He turned left where the hall split off in opposite directions and headed deeper into the compound where the remainder of the bedrooms were.
“Where the hell are you even going?”
That became obvious a moment later when Repo threw open the door to the last bedroom on the left hard enough for the hinges to protest and the knob to leave a dent in the wall. He’d send one of the prospects to patch it up later. Scratch that. He’d take care of it. No man was stepping foot inside her room again unless he wanted his face caved in.
Without a word, Repo crossed the room with determined strides, shucked his pants off and kicked them into a pile on the floor, then fell back onto the bed. He took his time getting comfortable, then crossed his feet at the ankles and folded his hands behind his head. Ah, yes, this was acceptable. “Nice mattress,” he commented. “Serta?”
“Sleep number,” she snapped, a scowl firmly in place. “Why are you in my bed? Get out.”
His eyebrows lifted. He considered her demand for zero seconds. “Nah, don’t think I will, Red. I’m all settled in for the night.”
“The hell yo
u are. Get your ass out of my bed and out of my room, pronto.”
Did she just stomp her foot? Repo chuckled to himself. “Red, shut your mouth and close the door. You’re letting a draft in.” Case in point, he had a severe case of DHO: Dick Hard On. It was as hard as granite, standing straight up in the air like a flagpole. See? Drafty.
Her little fists balled up and her eyes narrowed dangerously, but she did shut the door. Kicked it closed was more like it. He smirked, which she most definitely did not appreciate. “Wipe that smile straight off your face. I only closed the door to protect your reputation.”
His raised brows drew together. “My reputation?”
“Yeah,” she said as she moved toward him, “when I beat your ass, and you start crying like a school girl. Don’t think the brothers would look at you quite the same after that.”
Repo couldn’t help himself. He burst out laughing, the sound rolling from his gut and through his chest like thunder. He laughed until he had to hold his stomach from the pain of it. “Oh, Red,” he wheezed, wiping tears from his eyes, “you kill me.”
“I’m certainly about to!” She struck fast as lightning, launching herself at him like a wildcat. But Repo was faster. Much faster. Throwing his hands out, he caught her by the wrists before she could pummel his face, then used her momentum as leverage, swinging her to the side and tossing her onto the bed beside him. Rolling with her, he pinned her down with both knees on the outside of her thighs and both hands beside her head.
Refusing to be bested, Ginger struggled beneath him, wiggling and kicking, jamming her knees into his lower back, using her hips to try to buck him off. The heels of her feet kicked at his kidneys and spine, and her head thrashed like a lunatic, the sheet matting her hair up into a crazy mess of knots.
When it became clear that she wasn’t going to give up, when he saw the red marks his hands were beginning to leave around her wrists, Repo decided enough was enough. “Stop it, Red. I said stop! That’s enough now!” He shoved her deeper into the mattress, giving her a firm jostle to get her attention.
“Fuck you, Repo. Get off me and get out of my room.”
“You’re in no position to be making demands,” he pointed out. “Now settle your ass down before I spank it.”
She growled at him, a tiny little kitten growl. Too. Fucking. Cute. Kind of reminded him of when she was younger and wild, following him around like a lost animal in need of attention. His thoughts continued, dredging up the moment he decided to give her that attention, gave in when he knew he had no business being anywhere near her. He knew she was fucked in the head over Blake, his brother in arms and the Spartan’s current president. Maybe that was part of the appeal. But she’d always been a firecracker, a sweet little thing with an edge of jagged steel. He had a good ten years on her, but that hadn’t stopped him from fantasizing about what it’d feel like to get her under him and him inside of her.
Then one night, he found her cornered like prey by a couple of rowdy bikers from the western charter. There’d been a party, just like tonight, only louder, edgier. He could still recall the look of fear in her eyes just before he’d ripped the men away and promised no one would ever find their bodies if he caught them looking her way again. The man inside him had known, had he not intervened, something bad would have happened to her that night. And despite having been a married man at the time, that very male part of him had also known that he’d have done time just to keep her safe. Noble? Not even close. Nothing about his actions had been about nobility. Nothing honorable about him. At barely legal age, he’d seen the woman—his woman—standing before him, needing him, and every protective instinct had stood up and taken notice.
That wasn’t the beginning of the end of his marriage because it had been ending for some time—it was the death knell.
He’d been a weak man, taking Ginger’s gratitude in the form of letting her ride his dick hard, and then he’d pushed her away. Gotten on with business and life, focused on the club, took out the trash when needed, volunteered for every out-of-town ride that came up, anything to get him away from her.
Until he couldn’t run anymore.
Couldn’t deny that she was in his head to stay.
She was always on his mind, always in his sights. He never took his eyes off her. Knew where she was and who she was doing, even when she wasn’t his to watch. Because even when she married a brother—Hawke—she’d still belonged to him. He’d fucked her many times over the past few years, tried to tell himself he was okay with her fucking whoever she wanted because he was doing the same thing. He gave her space, let her live her life free after Hawke because she’d needed it. But that was all over now. He was tired of denying himself, denying what he wanted. And now he was going to claim what was his—what had always been his.
Ginger might think she wanted to be the strong, independent type who didn’t need a man to be happy, but he was going to show her different. He saw the longing in her eyes when she saw Blake and Gabby together, saw the sadness when Gabby’s belly started to swell with their child, the way her face lit up when brothers brought their kids around, or how she looked just plain tired at the end of the day. She needed someone to take care of her, to give her all those things she was missing in life. And he was ready to step up to the plate. She could kick and scream and throw all the tantrums she wanted, but Repo fully planned to give her his patch, then he was going to put his ring on her finger and his baby in her belly. She was going to belong to him in every sense of the word. He’d wear her ass down, sooner than later.
Still huffing and puffing, Ginger glared up at him. “What makes you think you can just invade my private space?”
Repo flexed his hips, letting her feel his erection in the valley between her legs, enjoying the way her eyes widened for just a fraction of a second. He’d have missed it, had he not been watching. “You never objected before, Red. What makes tonight any different?”
“Because this is my space. I don’t allow men in here. Ever.”
His chest tightened with pleasure. “Except me,” he reminded her. “I’m your first.” He lowered his mouth to her ear, breathing in her soft jasmine scent. “And your last.”
Sucking in a sharp breath, she jerked her head to the side. “What the fuck, Repo! You’re out of your damned mind if you think I’m going to just lie down and let you stake a claim you have no right to stake. The only person I will ever belong to again is me.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, babe. You’re already mine. Everyone here but you knows it, accepts it. And you know better than anyone, I always get what I want. Always.”
“Not this time, Repo. Not this time,” she growled.
She bucked again, and he tightened his hold, letting her feel his power over her, around her. She needed to know who was in charge here, and it most definitely wasn’t her. “Garrick, Red.”
“What?”
“That’s my name. Everyone else calls me Repo. You call me Garrick. Got it?”
“The only people who call you by your given name are those closest to you, which is no one. Repo.”
She had that exactly right. Repo never let anyone call him by his real name. The last person who had was his bitch of an ex-wife. Before her, his mother. Ginger didn’t count herself as one of those people, but he’d change her mind on that too. “Garrick,” he reminded her. Holding her firmly to be sure she wouldn’t leap from the bed and run off, or attack him again, Repo slid carefully to the side, keeping one heavy leg slung over the top of hers. He transferred both of her hands to one of his, then rested them on her chest, curling his body around hers and tucking her head beneath his chin.
She wasn’t going anywhere.
“If you don’t let me go, I’m going to scream.”
Laughter rumbled in his chest. “Go ahead, Red, scream. No one will save you.”
“This is kidnapping. I’m under duress.”
“We can change that real fast if you’d like.” He pushed his cock against her
hip, letting her know just what kind of therapy he had in mind.
“That’s one thing you’ve just ensured you’ll never get again,” she said with derision.
“We’ll see, Red.” He closed his eyes. It’d been a long day, and a long night, and he was finally shaking the last of the cold from that ice bath. The heat from Ginger’s lean, sexy body was doing a fine job of warming him up.
“Ginger.”
Repo grunted at her barely audible response. “What was that?”
“If I have to call you Garrick, you have to call me Ginger.”
He let that little nugget settle in, then felt a slow smile creep across his face. He pulled her closer, fitting all her soft curves against his hard planes. “I prefer babe.”
“I’m not a babe. You’ll call me by my name, or you can forget me calling you by yours. Frankly, Repo, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”
He had a feeling it was going to be hard no matter what way they did it. Dropping a kiss on the crown of her head, Repo made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. “I’ll think about it and get back to you in the morning.”
“You’re a pain in the ass.”
“So are you. Now close your eyes and get some rest. Babe.”
The elbow she jammed into his solar plexus barely hurt.
Barely.
FOUR
Was that a chest hair on her nipple? Ginger plucked the long, black hair from her chest and held it in front of her face for inspection, making a disgruntled sound as she ran her finger under the hot spray of the shower and watched it wash down the drain.
That sick bastard had been an inferno, making her sweat all night. She’d had to fight just to get a foot out from under the blankets and his mountain of a leg just to get an ounce of cool air on her toes. That’s when she’d known for certain that not only was he a jackass, but a lying jackass at that.
There was no draft! If there had been one, she might not have nearly succumbed to heat stroke.
Vigor: A Spartan Riders Novel Page 3
