by Nina Levine
Her breaths came faster at that. Finding my eyes again after I let her go, she said, “Damn, you are demanding.”
“I am. Now move that sweet ass into my kitchen so I’m not wasting a minute of the time I have left with you this morning.”
She did as I said, and a minute later, I had her sitting on my kitchen counter while I made us coffee. Her legs dangled over the edge while she leant back and rested her hands behind her. I loved how at home she looked. How at ease she seemed with me already.
“How long have you been with Storm?”
I filled the kettle and spooned coffee into mugs. “Seven years.”
“How old were you then?”
“Twenty-five.”
“What made you join? Like, did you grow up around the club?”
I rested my ass against the counter and folded my arms over my chest while I waited for the kettle to boil and contemplated sharing the truth of my story with Hailee. I didn’t usually tell it to anyone and especially not women I wanted to sleep with, but I already knew I wanted something with her. And if she couldn’t accept my club ties, we had no chance at anything.
“You sure you wanna know that story, darlin’? It’s probably not one you’d like.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve learnt in my thirty years, it’s that perfection doesn’t exist. Everyone’s story is filled with imperfection. And who am I to judge yours?”
“Why the fuck did it take us so long to meet? I’ve been going to that pub for years, and not once have I seen you play there.”
She smiled. “I think we meet people when we’re supposed to. When we need them.”
I uncrossed my arms and let them drop to my sides. “That seems like very fucking woo-woo-out-there kinda shit. I’m not sure I buy into that. What about the people we meet that are assholes? What do we need them for?”
Her smile grew. “Maybe they need us. Maybe they’ll teach us a lesson, in which case we do need them.”
The kettle boiled at that point, and I turned to make coffee. “Milk? Sugar?”
“Just a tiny splash of milk, please. No sugar.” I heard her feet hit the floor, and a moment later, her arm slid around my waist. “So will you tell me your story about Storm, or will I have to wait for that?” She paused for a second. “Just so you know, I’m down for waiting. We’ve got all the time to get to our stories.”
I turned my face to look at her. “Yeah, we do,” I murmured. “I think I might leave that one for another day.” She really wasn’t ready for that one.
The smile on her face seemed to have settled there. “Okay, you’ve gotta give me three things about you, then. Anything. And then I’ll give you three things about me.”
Shifting on my feet, I turned my body to face her. I loved that she kept her hand on my waist. “What shit do you wanna know, gorgeous?”
She thought about that for a minute, and then her smile morphed into a grin. “Tell me your favourite movie.”
That was an easy one. Growing up, we’d watched it over and over to the point I could recite it along with the characters. “The Karate Kid.”
“You surprise me, Devil. I thought for sure you were gonna say some violent action flick. Any others?”
I had to dig deep, because I didn’t watch movies often. “What’s the name of that one with that chick from the movie with the bus that the guy from The Matrix was in? The chick from the bus movie takes in a poor kid who goes on to become a top football player.”
She laughed and shook her head. “Your clues are a mess, dude, but it’s The Blind Side. And it’s Sandra Bullock who stars in it.”
“Good flick. Fucking loved her character.” I pulled her closer to me. “What are your favourites?”
“My absolute favourite movie ever is Marley and Me.”
“The dog flick, yeah?”
“Yes.”
“Guaranteed to make any chick bawl.” I made a mental note to watch it with her simply for the opportunity to get her in my arms when she started crying.
She nodded and her hand squeezed my waist as she said, “Okay, favourite thing to do on a Sunday.”
“Why a Sunday?”
“Because that’s our rest day.”
“Fuck, are you a happy clapper?”
Laughing, she said, “I’m not sure. What’s a happy clapper?”
“A religious nut.”
“Ah, I see the math you did there. Rest day, religion. I believe in God, but I’m not into church or any of that, if that’s what you mean. When I talk about rest day, I just mean that I personally believe in taking one day a week and doing nothing but things you love.”
It was my turn to smile. “So the fact you chose to hang out with me yesterday was a good sign that you really like me?”
She reached for my face and angled it down so she could kiss me. “You should most definitely take that as a good sign.”
I warred with myself over the desire to keep her lips on mine versus the desire to finish this conversation. In the end, I decided I wanted to know shit about her more than I wanted a few minutes kissing her. “Okay, tell me your favourite things for a Sunday.”
“Well, besides having drinks with hot bikers, I love to go out dancing or to see a live band. A lazy sleep in is always a good way to start the day, and time with friends shopping and having lunch is always good, too.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “When you say drinks with hot bikers, plural, that was just a slip of the tongue, wasn’t it?”
Her body swayed against mine a little as she softly laughed at that. “Of course. There’s only one hot biker I know. The rest aren’t hot.”
We needed to move away from this topic. Usually, I had a good sense of humour and could handle teasing like this, but with Hailee, I was experiencing a weird rush of territorial bullshit. I’d always lived with the belief that if the person you were with wanted someone else, then so be it; you weren’t meant to be. I hadn’t ever really experienced jealousy. Suddenly, jealousy was crawling all over me, and I didn’t know what to do with it.
I reached for the coffee I’d made and passed it to her. “What are you doing tonight?”
Taking a sip, she looked at me over the rim of the mug. “Are you trying to change the subject? You haven’t told me your favourite Sunday things yet.”
This conversation I could handle. I grinned. “Darlin’, there’re only two things a Sunday should be reserved for. A long ride and sex.”
“You’re not a Sunday armchair sportsman, then?”
“Armchair sports are best watched in bed while balls deep in a sweet pussy, but I have been known to watch some motor racing or footy with the boys. A coldie in front of the telly is always a good thing on a Sunday afternoon.”
She moved her hand from my waist to my chest. “Just putting it out there that I’m not the kind of woman who shares my cock time with a bloody television, so don’t go getting any ideas that I’ll put up with you watching sport while we have sex.”
My dick twitched at her declaration. Mostly because her attempts at ordering me around got me hard, but also because that declaration told me she also planned for us to be something. I drank some of my coffee before saying, “I like the way you think. Sex first and then television.”
“Or maybe, just sex. Hours and hours of it. And no television.”
I grinned again. “Even fucking better.”
She finished her coffee and said, “Okay, bossman, I gotta leave.”
I stopped her as she took a step away from me. “Not until you agree to see me tonight.”
“The band always plays at Flirt on a Monday. We could hang out after.”
“What time do you start?”
“Eight tonight.”
“I’ll see you then.”
She planted another kiss on my lips, driving me crazy because I needed more than one quick kiss from her. When she pulled away, I said, “I’ll take you home.”
Surprise flickered over her face. “I was just gonna walk.”
I frowned. “Fuck no.”
A slow smile crept across her face as she looped her hands around my neck. “In that case, I don’t have to leave so soon. I can stay for another half hour.”
My arms snaked around her so I could take hold of her ass. Lifting her, I turned and deposited her on the kitchen counter. “Thank fuck, because I’ve got at least half-an-hour worth of things I wanna do to you before I let you go.” Without wasting another second, I dropped my mouth to hers. It was going to be the longest day on record while I counted down the hours to have these lips again.
10
Hailee
I yawned as Rachel rattled off the customer complaints we’d received last week. Monday mornings at work were always reserved for Rachel’s weekly rundown of the week ahead, plus a reflection on the past week. Sadly, her favourite thing seemed to be to berate each of us for our mistakes rather than to build us up by focusing more on our strengths. I was all for acknowledging where we could have done better, but I was a firm believer in motivating through encouragement.
“Are we interrupting your sleep, Hailee?” Rachel threw me a glare as I yawned.
I sat up straighter. “Sorry.” God, she irritated me lately. We used to have a great work relationship, but that was back when her love of belittling people hadn’t existed. Ever since her hubby left her, it was like she was a whole new person. And not a good one.
“If your side project is keeping you up at night and interfering with my business, you’ll need to decide which one you want to keep.”
I froze. Where the fuck had that come from? “My project has nothing to do with me yawning, Rachel.”
Three months ago, I’d started offering free massages to elderly people who couldn’t afford them. It was all done in my own time at night and on weekends. Leona had seen what I was doing and had offered some of her time also, and then other local masseuses had come on board, too. Within two months, I’d grown my group of helpers to twenty, and it had turned into a project where I spent a lot of time managing everyone involved. A local journalist had discovered what we were doing when his mother requested a massage, and he’d written a piece about us for the paper. The past month since that article had been published had been hectic. However, I’d worked hard not to let it interfere with my work.
Rachel continued glaring. “Yes, well I highly doubt that, Hailee. I think your commitment to this business has waned.”
Leona groaned next to me, and I kicked her under the table. The last thing she needed was to lose her job or hours because she supported me.
“What are you saying?” I asked. I needed to know if I was in jeopardy of losing my job.
Her eyes bored into mine as she said, “I think you need to reconsider your goals in life and decide if you want to pursue your charity massages or if you’d prefer to focus on building a career here.”
My chest squeezed with stress. I couldn’t afford to lose my job, but no way in hell was I giving up helping people. I wanted to stand and walk out, telling her she could shove her fucking job, but I bit my tongue. I’d try and string her along until I could find a new job, and then I’d take great delight in telling her what I thought. “Okay,” I bit out.
She lifted a brow. “Okay?”
“Okay, I’ll reconsider everything.” I wanted to scrape that damn brow from her face. She was always arching it, indicating her contempt for us.
“Good,” she snapped. Turning to address all the staff, she said, “I hope I can count on your continuing loyalty to this business also.” And then she exited the room, leaving me with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.
“Fuck, Hailee,” Leona said. “What are you going to do?”
I looked at her. “Do you really think that if I was willing to give Tricia up because of this project that I wouldn’t hesitate to give up this job?”
Her lips smooshed together in a sad frown. “Yeah, but we both know that you didn’t walk away from your best friend simply because she gave you an ultimatum and made you choose between her and the project.”
She was right. There was a fuckload more that had gone on in that relationship, but the nail in the coffin had been Tricia’s inability to share me with my new friends and the project that made my heart soar.
I nodded. “That’s true. But honestly, I’m going to look for another job,” I said as everyone in the room hustled around us to leave and get started for the day.
Rachel had put the fear of God into them. I’d seen it on their faces. And I’d wondered how many would stick with me and continue to offer free massages. Out of the fifteen masseuses who worked for her, seven of them donated their time to my project. I figured most of them needed this job more than they needed to help elderly people for free.
Leona stood and looked down at me. “I’ve decided to look for another job, too.”
“Oh, God,” I said, standing with her. “You guys really can’t afford to screw around with finances at the moment, Leona. I won’t accept your help with my project anymore.”
“Pfft,” she muttered. “I’d already decided to start looking. This just cements that decision. And if you think you can keep me away from helping, you’re dreaming. I’m with you on this 100 percent.”
I shook my head as I smiled at her. Leona was a stubborn woman, and I knew there was no way to change her mind.
For a day that had started off so well, it hadn’t taken long to turn to shit. And yet, I smiled all the way through the day knowing I’d get to see Devil later.
I arrived at Flirt early that night. Much earlier than needed to chat with my bandmates before we started playing. After a shitty day with Rachel constantly on my back, I’d decided to dance some stress off.
“What’ll it be tonight, babe?” Doug asked when I rested my arms on his counter.
“Hit me with something strong, please.”
“Bad day?”
“The worst. I need a strong drink and then an hour or so dancing, and then I’ll be good.” Thank goodness Doug heavily discounted my drinks, pretty much to the point of not charging me anything. And then putting what I owed him on a bar tab that he allowed me to pay off whenever I had money.
“You want me to blast your music for you?”
I smiled. Doug always looked after me when I felt the need to dance. I loved the good old Aussie rock that the pub preferred to play, but long ago I’d handed Doug a CD with the kind of rock I liked to dance to. I’d frequented the joint for long enough that the regulars put up with my music every now and then.
“You’re good to me, Doug.”
He made me a drink and said, “Just looking out for your mental health. And maybe mine. You forget that I’ve experienced your mood swings over the last two years.”
I took the drink as he passed it over. “Yeah, no one needs to experience that.” I’d had a few meltdowns over the years, especially over assholes who’d treated me badly. Doug, unfortunately, often copped the brunt of them.
He jerked his chin at me. “Drink up. I’ll sort your music out.”
I took a gulp of the drink. It tasted fruity and very alcoholic—exactly what I’d asked him for. “What is this?”
“It’s a zombie. Lots of rum in that one. Guaranteed to give you some buzz.”
I finished the drink and then headed out to the dance floor. Doug had already started playing my music, and a few minutes later, I was dancing, eyes closed, working the tension from my body.
A good hour, maybe more, passed before I decided I’d had enough. A few other girls had joined me on the dance floor, but mostly I’d danced alone, which was the way I preferred it. Getting lost in the beat drowned out the thoughts running through my mind, and I always felt refreshed afterwards. Sweaty, but refreshed.
As I made my way towards the back room where there was a bathroom I could shower in, Devil stepped in front of me. His eyes found mine, and I shivered at the desire I saw there. “I’ve been thinking about you all fucking day, darlin’. And after watching you
dance for the last half hour, I’m not sure I can wait another few hours to have you.”
“You’ve been watching me?” The way that turned me on surprised me. I was a performer, but I never thought of it in the way that people were watching me but rather that they were listening to me. I loved the idea of Devil watching me.
His body moved against mine and I felt his need for me. He slid a hand up my neck, behind my ear and into my hair so that he could grasp my head. Nodding, he said, “I had to restrain myself from dragging you off the dance floor and finding somewhere here I could fuck you.”
His words caused an ache between my legs. One that only he could fix. And I needed him to fix it right now. Stepping away from him, I grabbed hold of his hand and led him out the back. We hit the staff room a few moments later, and I attempted to lock the door after I’d closed it behind him, but he dragged me to him before I could.
Lifting me, he pushed me up against the wall. I wrapped my arms and legs around him while he pressed his mouth to mine. He then kissed me like he’d been denied my lips for years.
His kiss consumed me.
Every single part of me.
If I thought dancing cleared my thoughts, Devil kissing me completely wiped them from my mind.
When he came up for air, he dropped his eyes so they could roam my body, and said, “Fuck… your body...” He didn’t end his sentence, but rather, ran a hand over my breasts.
I took hold of his face so I could bring his gaze back up to meet mine. “You just want me for my body?”
“I want you for a lot fucking more than that, but right now, all I can think about is getting inside you.”
Oh. God.
Devil had a way with words, but he also had a way with delivering those words. His voice could well become my kryptonite. It was deep and rumbly and husky and gravelly all rolled into one. And he knew just when to inflect it with one tone more than the other to achieve his desired goal.
