“Yeah. Fuck me.” Mercy scrubbed a hand over his head. As he herded her out of the room and locked up, he asked, “Why would Crow care about your fuckin’ hair?”
* * *
He was beyond pissed. Crow let the fury eat at him.
And it didn’t lessen as he saw Mercy’s big black Terradyne pull in front of his shop. Fuck no, it didn’t.
He’d been standing out front waiting on Mercy and Jazz for almost a half hour. Every minute that ticked by made him want to smash that fucker’s face in even more.
He was normally not one for violence—unless it was warranted—but right now that was all he could think about.
Getting that call from Momma B, then finding Jazz’s car still out back in the ally with no Jazz...
Fuck.
He had lost it. His first call was to D, who also lost it, but even worse in his typical raging bull style.
The thought that fucknut MC might have taken Jazz again was beyond thinkable. He’d never been so fucking scared in his life.
She would never survive a second assault from those motherfuckers. They would make sure she mentally snapped in two. Most likely never to be fixable again.
And if that happened...
Fuck.
His jaw felt welded together as the RPV came to a rolling stop in front of him. He ripped the passenger-side door open and ignored the surprised woman in the passenger seat to stare past her at the driver.
Fucking Mercy. What the fuck had he been thinking?
Mercy studied Crow’s expression and his gray eyes narrowed. His gaze then flicked to Jazz and back to Crow.
Then the one side of his mouth, the side without the scar, curled up slightly.
Fucking son-of-a-bitch. He’d been making a play.
“Got everyone freaked the fuck out!” Crow shouted, then reached in, unlatched her seatbelt and yanked her the fuck out of the vehicle. “Get in the shop,” he ordered, his gaze once again locked with Mercy’s.
She yanked her arm from his grasp. “But—”
“Get in the fuckin’ shop. Need a word with Mercy, here.”
“He—”
“Jasmine, get inside. Now.”
“I’m not a fucking child.”
He twisted his head to glare at her. He took in her now blonde hair, her practically make-up free face, her slim body tucked into jeans and a royal blue loose tank top that had the logo of a Buffalo-based guitar store on the front.
He sucked air through his nostrils in an attempt to calm down. “No, you’re not.” She certainly wasn’t that. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one who noticed. “Kachina, go inside.” This time he made the order softer, more of an ask than a demand, though he certainly wasn’t giving her a choice.
Her green eyes bounced from him, to Mercy at the wheel of the RPV and back to Crow. She opened her mouth, paused, then closed it. Spinning on her heels, she went inside his shop with a huff.
Crow watched her through the picture window as she walked a little deeper into the shop, turned, crossed her arms over her chest, then stared at them through the glass.
Fuck.
He would try to keep it civil.
Try.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?”
“She belong to you? You claim her?”
Crow set his jaw. He wasn’t going to answer that because Mercy already knew the answer.
“Right,” Mercy continued. “Didn’t think so.”
“She don’t need the likes of you.”
“Says who? You?”
“She needs a soft hand. Patience.”
“Got lots of fuckin’ patience.”
“Got nothin’ in that chest of yours. Your fuckin’ heart’s ice cold. She don’t need frostbite.”
Mercy’s hard-as-steel eyes got even harder. “You an expert on what she needs?”
“Known her for a long fuckin’ time.”
“And she’s been gone a long fuckin’ time, brother. She’s not the same as when you knew her before.”
Wasn’t that the truth. “No one knows that better than me.”
“I disagree.”
“Get you’re tryin’ to make a move, but put that shit out of your head.”
Mercy snorted. “Again, she belong to you?”
“She doesn’t belong to anybody.”
Mercy gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Not even close. “Yet.”
“When she does, it won’t be you,” he growled, his hands curling into fists.
“We’ll see.” Mercy’s words were ice cold. He shoved the shifter into first gear and stomped on the accelerator. As Crow quickly stepped back, the passenger door slammed shut on its own.
Crow watched the oversized military-style vehicle speed away, its tires squealing as it took the corner at the end of the block.
If that fucking guy thought he was getting his hands on Jazz...
He shook his head.
Over Crow’s dead body.
He closed his eyes and willed his blood pressure to go down before he went inside to deal with her.
Because what she pulled by going somewhere, wherever the fuck they went, without telling anybody was just plain bullshit.
When he turned, she was gone from the large picture window. With a curse, he went inside, his gaze landing on her sitting in the office chair behind his counter where his cash register was kept.
Her bottom lip was tucked between her teeth and her eyes tracked him as he strode toward her.
“He touch you?”
“No.”
“He wanna touch you?”
She pursed her lips for a second before saying, “He’s a bit intense.”
He studied her face when he growled, “Didn’t answer the question.” When she avoided his gaze, he ground his back molars.
“Because I don’t know that answer. He wanted to show me something.”
“Sure he did.” Mercy wanted to show her his dick, no doubt. “What he show you?”
The color that had been in her cheeks fled. She was thinking way too hard to come up with an answer. He decided to put her out of her misery of making up something that would very well be a lie. “You want ‘im?”
Her green eyes went wide. “No.”
Hell, he almost believed that. “Sure you don’t want ‘im to be the one to help you?”
“Help me...” she drifted off.
“What you’re askin’ from me,” he clarified. “Want ‘im to be the one instead?”
The color flooded back into her pale cheeks. “No!”
“Sure?”
“Yes.”
“Just gotta tell me now, Kachina. Gotta be upfront with me.” Before I get to a point where I can’t return. Where you ending up in someone else’s bed does something to me that...
Fuck.
She slowly got up from his office chair and came around the short counter to stand inches from him. So close he could feel her heat. Smell her scent. See the different flecks of green in her eyes. There was life behind them today. Unlike the other night when she first walked into his shop. Did he put that spark there or did Mercy?
She tucked her hand under his cut and placed her warm palm over his beating heart. “No, I need it to be you.”
Fuck, if those softly spoken words didn’t land right in, not only his heart, but his dick.
He reached for her hand, pulled it off his chest and lifted it to his mouth. He kissed her open palm before dropping it and stepping back from her, giving himself some breathing room. “We’re goin’ home, Kachina.”
“Why? Don’t you have clients today?”
“Cancelled all of ‘em thinkin’ you were snatched. Thinkin’ our asses were gonna have to go out an’ find you. Shoulda let someone know where you were.”
She curled her fingers into the palm that he’d kissed and held it against her chest, like she was afraid to let that kiss go. “Are you more pissed because you thought I fell into the hands of the Warriors or because I was with Mercy?”
r /> He wasn’t going to answer that because right now, it was pretty fucking even. Right now, he was taking Jazz home.
And also right now, he could only think about one thing...
Taking her to bed.
Nobody else was going to claim her first.
No fucking way.
Especially Mercy.
Chapter Ten
“Sorry,” Jazz whispered as she dismounted from the back of his sled after pulling into the garage. “I should’ve known. I should’ve called or texted. But I did text you earlier and got no answer.”
Right. Because he couldn’t have his phone while visiting Rocky in Greene. “Shoulda at least checked in with D first. Mercy’s his man. Mercy answers to D. You know that.”
“Maybe it’s best if I head home to Buffalo and just come back once a month for my tat. I don’t want people worrying about me.” With that, she turned and headed toward the door that led into the house.
He swung off his bike quickly and snagged her wrist, stopping her forward motion. “Hold up.”
She turned to look at him over her shoulder, but didn’t say anything.
“It scared the fuckin’ shit outta me, Kachina. To get a call sayin’ you were dropped off at your car, then when I check out back, I find your car sittin’ there an’ you nowhere around? What the fuck am I supposed to think?”
“Him showing up was unexpected.”
No shit.
“It brought back some deeply rooted shit.” She took a deep inhale. “I didn’t remember him. I didn’t recognize him.”
That shouldn’t bother her, but it did. He could read it all over her face. There was probably a lot from that day she didn’t remember. Maybe it was better that way. “But you got in a fuckin’ vehicle with ‘im. Alone. Not smart, baby. Not fuckin’ smart at all.”
She turned to face the door again and his chest tightened as her head dropped. “I know.”
“He ain’t gonna hurt you.” While that was true, that didn’t mean Crow trusted him. And that was certainly true if Mercy had a hard-on over Jazz. Them being “the same” and all that bullshit. Had some “connection.” As fucked up as that may be.
That man was not right for her. No matter what Mercy thought in his fucked-up head.
It took everything in his power to ask, “Need to know, Kachina, if you still want me to be your first?”
She jerked within his grasp and he pulled her back to him, turning her to face him.
“Wanna know if what we did last night... you wanna finish.”
She lifted her face to him and he could see the sheen in her eyes.
Fuck. She was going to rip his fucking heart right out of his chest.
Her lower lip trembled as she whispered, “Yes. Today didn’t change that. I told you back at the shop, it needs to be you.”
“Needs an’ wants are different,” he reminded her. He needed her to want him, not just use him because she considered him the best man for the job.
“What if it’s one and the same for me?”
“Is it?”
“Yes.”
Thank fuck. Because he had plans.
Last night he had backed off, but maybe he shouldn’t have. Maybe he just needed to push past those walls. Break down those barriers.
Yeah, she needed a soft hand. Yeah, she needed patience. And, fuck yeah, she needed someone who genuinely cared for her.
That wasn’t Mercy.
No, that was fucking him.
Him.
No one else.
He had told her to stop wearing that shitty makeup. Her face was almost make-up free. He told her he wanted her hair to be her natural color. It was very damn close. And he could certainly live with what she was wearing today.
Who did she do that for? Not fucking Mercy.
No, she did that for him.
“Kachina.”
She lifted her green eyes to his.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“For what?”
“For bringin’ her back.”
She blinked a couple of times and her bottom lip trembled. “Just on the surface.”
He shook his head slowly. “No. I’m seein’ her for the first time since you’ve been home. She’s in there.”
“You going to help her break free?”
He hoped to fuck that he was. “Gonna do my best.”
She gave him a small smile. “Then I should be thanking you.”
* * *
Crow wasn’t sure this was the best idea. In fact, he almost wanted to say this was the worst fucking idea in his life. But at least it was an idea. Last night hadn’t gone as it should have, so he was hoping this would work out better.
Let her go at her own pace.
But the problem was, he was going to die.
Just fucking die.
Normally, he’d love this kind of shit. The kind of shit where he was spread eagle on a bed naked as a woman straddled him and did whatever she wanted to him.
But this wasn’t “normally.”
No, he couldn’t move. Not because he was tied down. Because he certainly wasn’t restrained. But, fuck him, he had promised her he wouldn’t move. So he needed to keep his shit together and keep his promise.
And worse, he couldn’t touch her. Again, another fucking promise he wished he hadn’t made. And, fuck him twice over, he was never making that one again. Because with what she was doing to him—he blew out a frustrated breath—he wouldn’t be surprised if he just came all over himself. Simply blew his load like a knocked over fire hydrant.
Because this was fucking torture.
Now he knew how she felt last night when he had spent over an hour just worshipping her body, taking his time, letting her appreciate everything he was doing to her.
For fuck’s sake, that table was now turned. He had the bright idea to let her control everything that was about to happen. Or hopefully happen. It would be up to her how everything proceeded and how everything ended.
He only knew his fucking balls were cursing him out and his dick was throbbing to the point where he might snap and break his promise.
A few times—fuck, more than a few—he had to close his eyes and clench his jaw and fingers to keep from grabbing her, throwing her on the bed and just taking her like he wanted to.
Consequences be damned.
But his genius-self volunteered for this, so he wouldn’t go back on his word. He was also not a quitter.
He bit back a snort. His damn brain was turning into a steaming pile of dog shit.
Like he did to her last night, she was exploring every inch of his body. He swore there wasn’t one spot she missed. Once she took the whole tour with her fingers and her soft exploratory touch, she started all over again with her lips. And now her tongue was flicking at his fucking nipples.
And, oh, fuck him... His hips jerked, and his chest caved in as she moved down his body and the tip of her hot little tongue licked off the bead of cum at the very tip of his dick.
But he kept his eyes closed because, otherwise, he wouldn’t be so patient. If he saw her blonde head down there as she...
Fuuuuuuck. Now she nipped at his inner thighs.
He tried to swallow, but found it impossible.
“Kachina.” He hardly recognized his own voice as it escaped him. He groaned as she wrapped her lips around his sac and sucked his balls gently.
Holy fuck. This woman had zero experience. Zero that he was aware of.
If she was this skilled as what he considered a “virgin” ...
When her mouth wrapped around the head of his painfully hard dick... His back bowed and he gripped the sheets so hard he thought he heard them tear.
“Kachina... not a good idea,” he panted.
“You said I could do whatever I wanted.” Her husky voice, thick with what he could only hope was need, swept over him and then swirled around in his muddled brain.
Did he? Did he say that? That was fucking stupid of him. Maybe because he expecte
d her to be more timid about touching him, exploring. Not taking the bulls—or his balls—by the horn—or her hand—and...
He threw his head back as she sucked him deep within her mouth, almost to the back of her throat. He fought to keep from thrusting up, but shiiiiit...
“Kachina.” Did he say that out loud or was he just screaming in his head? Her mouth was small but hot, wet, and she sucked him hard. He tried to gather his breath so he could tell her to stop. Beg her to stop before he...
Then she was gone.
Thank fuck.
His pulse not only pounded in his dick, but also in his temples. Hell, his whole body throbbed.
He forced his eyes open to see what she had planned next.
She was straddling his thighs and pulling off her tank top, reaching behind her back to unclip her bra. Then her tits were bare, her nipples hard peaks. She didn’t have a lot there, but what she did have fit her frame perfectly. He expected once she put weight on, they’d fill out even more. Even so, his mouth watered at seeing those pink puckered tips begging to be sucked.
When she stretched out on top of him, those nipples pressed into his chest.
What the fuck was she doing? All he could see was a cloud of blonde hair in his face as her body wiggled back and forth. What kind of fucked-up torture was this?
He realized she was wiggling out of her jeans. But instead of getting up and off him to finish getting undressed, she was doing it on top of him.
Fuck me.
A man could only take so much. “Kachina, need to touch you.”
The wiggling paused. “You said—”
Know what I fuckin’ said! Did he scream that out loud? Was he totally losing his shit?
“That I could do what I wanted and you were just going to lay there and allow it.”
Fuck. Did he really say that? Yes, he did. He did.
Jesus, he was going to let her finish what she started. And do his best not to whimper. Beg. Or shoot his load between them.
The wiggling resumed and a groan came from deep within his chest.
He stared sightlessly at the ceiling as she jerked a couple of times and he could only imagine she was yanking her jeans off the rest of the way, then slipping out of her panties.
He wondered how damp they were.
Down & Dirty: Crow: Dirty Angels MC, book 10 Page 12