by Joanna Wylde
“Cooper, I think—” she started to say, but I cut her off. Couldn’t take one more damned minute of her calling me by that fucking name.
“Gage.”
I set the hunting knife beside the gun, carefully coiling my belt up next to them. Pic might’ve been right, I realized. My control was slipping. She needed a slow, careful explanation. I needed my cock buried deep in her cunt. One of these would be happening soon, and it probably wasn’t the smart one.
“Gage?” she asked hesitantly.
“My name is Gage,” I confirmed, turning and stalking toward her. Goddamn, her cheeks were all flushed. I saw fear and excitement in her eyes, and those beautiful tits of her swayed up with every breath, taunting me. The view was outstanding. At some point I should probably figure out where she kept her bras, then take my knife to each and every one of them. Those tits were works of art and they deserved better than to be covered.
“Your name is Gage?” she asked, clearly confused as hell.
Fair enough, what with all the lies I’d told her.
“Yeah, the name was fake,” I told her bluntly. I took another step forward, backing her against the front door. “All of it was fake. Lot of shit’s gone down in the last two days. Things have changed, so it’s time for us to talk.”
I let my body push into hers, flattening her boobs against my chest. Christ, that felt good. Felt even better as my cock dug into her stomach. Felt right, the same way it felt when I’d put my colors back on. Right in a way that resonated to my bones, and any doubts I might’ve had about the situation were gone in an instant. I should lock her up, make her my prisoner until she acknowledged once and for all who she belonged to. Maybe even tattoo my name across that ass of hers.
That way any fucker stupid enough to try and get into her pants would know the name of his murderer.
My hand tightened on her throat for an instant—Jesus, the power I had over her in that moment. So sweet it hurt. Then I slid my hand up into her hair, digging deep until the band holding it popped. Tinker’s eyes were wild, and I deliberately ground my hips into her, ass clenching as I imagined thrusting deep and hard.
“There’s a lot of ground to cover, so I’m gonna give you the short version for now,” I said, catching and holding her gaze prisoner, sure as I held her body. “I haven’t been free since I got here. Now I am, which means I’m taking what’s mine.”
Tinker swallowed. My cock hurt. Blood pounded through me, and I decided what she really needed was something bigger to swallow. Christ.
“What do you mean, you’re taking . . . ?” she asked, her voice thready and strained.
“I’m taking you,” I said, nudging her legs apart with one knee. Now I felt her heat, and my hips swiveled again, starting a slow rhythm, mimicking what I’d be doing to her soon. Leaning down, I rubbed my nose slowly along her cheekbone. “You’re mine now.”
Tinker stiffened, and I tightened my hand in her hair. She needed to know who was boss. That I was in charge.
That I’d take care of her.
She swallowed again and I groaned, hips surging against her. This was better and worse than I’d imagined, because I was supposed to explain but I couldn’t think. Maybe I should just fuck her and explain later. Maybe I’d be able to think by then. Kicking her legs wider, I angled my pelvis into hers, pinning her hard against the door, starting a slow grind that simultaneously hurt and felt better than anything I’d ever experienced before in my life.
Tinker gasped, and I knew I’d won. She might be pissed as hell later, but right now the woman wanted me as much as I wanted her. That was a damned good thing, because by the time she knew the whole truth, she’d probably come after me with her daddy’s shotgun.
I closed my eyes for an instant, trying to slow down. Remember what I’d come here to tell her. Shitty to be me, because my brain had ceased to function. Now it was all about my cock pushing against her pussy and the feel of her heat through the layers of clothing between us.
“A lot’s gone down, but right now the critical information is that you belong to me,” I told her, my voice rough. “You’re my property. You don’t understand what that means, and that’s okay. I’ll teach you. But when you look back at this moment, I want you to remember there was a before I claimed you and an after. Now it’s after. You got me?”
She didn’t—I read the confusion in her face, and if I’d been a decent man I’d have let her go. Then she swallowed again, and all I could think about was shoving my dick down her throat. My pulse pounded as my slow grind grew more ragged. I had no fucking idea how I’d managed to keep my hands off her this long, but those days were done.
I’d lost my self-control and I wouldn’t be getting it back.
“What about your girlfriend?” Tinker asked suddenly, eyes narrowing. There was a spark of jealousy there, and savage triumph roared through me. She didn’t like me fucking Talia. This was good. Sure, we’d probably have a few fights over it, but the best part of fighting is the makeup sex.
“First, Talia has never been my girlfriend—that bitch is nothing,” I told her. Tinker frowned skeptically. I reached down, catching one of her legs and lifting it to wrap around my waist. Now my cock hit her pussy at a new angle, and if we’d been naked I’d have already been inside her. “My club sent me here to study the Nighthawks, and she was the easiest way to get inside. Fucking her was like fucking a praying mantis. She’s gone, or she will be soon. Either way, I’m done with her.”
Tinker shook her head, raising her hands to push against my chest. Like she had a shot in hell of getting away. I caught her hands, pinning them over her head, because I was in charge here, not her. Then I leaned forward, our lips so close I felt the heat coming off her.
“I’ve been watching you twitch that ass of yours for too long,” I whispered. “You sit out on that pretty little porch of yours with your friend. You pretend you aren’t scoping me out, but you are. You’ve wanted it bad for a long time, and now you’re gonna get it.”
Covering her mouth, I thrust my tongue in deep, taking her as my hips attacked hers. She tasted better than I remembered, all hot and sweet and soft, and if I didn’t get inside in the next five seconds, it might kill me.
Making that happen would require pulling away long enough to shove that robe of hers out of the way. This sucked, because I wasn’t sure I could do it. The thought of pulling away for even an instant was almost more than I could handle. Then her tongue started tangling with mine as her leg tightened around me. Jesus. So hot. The kiss grew more frantic.
My hand caught her ass, pulling her into my body.
Tinker bit my tongue.
Hard.
I jerked back as we stared each other down, chests heaving. Then she spoke.
“Asshole. You lied to me.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
TINKER
Cooper’s face—no Gage’s face—was flushed and his eyes were hard with need. My head was spinning and my body was screaming, because the lust I’d had for him before was nothing compared to this. When I felt his hard cock push between my legs, I wanted him inside me so bad that I could hardly think.
It’d be so easy.
Just let him do it, I whispered to myself. Let him take you and make you feel good. You’ve suffered so much, been alone for so long. You deserve this.
Maybe I did deserve it, but first I deserved some fucking answers.
“You lied to me,” I repeated, forcing myself to retake control, each breath a triumph of focus.
“Yeah, I lied to you,” he repeated, the words cold, almost indifferent. This wasn’t the man I’d laughed over dinner with. Not even close. He was harder, and there wasn’t a hint of any real emotion in his eyes. Lust? Definitely. He wanted me as bad as I wanted him, of that I had no doubt. But this wasn’t the Cooper I’d come to know over the past few weeks. This wasn’t the man who’d helped repair my building or who’d made me feel better about the fact that I’d been stupid enough to get caught on video screw
ing a stripper.
He definitely wasn’t the same man who’d followed Talia around like a puppy when she crooked her finger. He was right about one thing—he’d lied, and not just with his words. Every interaction we’d ever had was fake.
“Let my hands go,” I said, my voice cold.
“Or what?” he taunted softly.
I didn’t answer, just stared him down. He cocked his head, giving me a twisted smile that could’ve been a sneer, but he let them go. Slowly. As if making it clear that it was his choice, not mine. Reminding me that he still held me fully pinned and there wasn’t a damned thing I could do to stop him.
“Who are you?” I asked, the hard pressure between my legs sending waves of need and desire through me. But I wasn’t some little girl to be manipulated by lust.
“Told you—my name is Gage. I’m with the Reapers motorcycle club, and I’ll be the man fucking you from now on.”
Raising my hands, I pushed slowly and steadily against his chest, making it clear I wanted him to let me go. He didn’t. Instead I felt his fingers tighten possessively around my ass.
“We aren’t doing this,” I said, even though my body disagreed. Strongly. “I don’t know who the hell you are, and I don’t fuck strangers.”
“You fucked a strange stripper at a bachelorette party,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Remember?”
My breath caught, pain punching through me.
“Are you seriously slut-shaming me?” I whispered. Gage’s jaw tightened, and then he shook his head tightly, frowning.
“This isn’t going right,” he said, a flicker of frustration crossing his face.
“What gave it away?” I said, my voice low and smooth, with a hint of ice. “Here’s something you should know about me, Gage. Sometimes I get beat. Sometimes I lose and life doesn’t turn out the way I planned. Sometimes I even feel weak and collapse for a while, but here’s the reality . . . I will never, ever give up and I will never give in.”
My hands came up fast and I jabbed him in the throat with both thumbs, targeting the soft, central hollow right above the sternum. It caught him hard, and he reared back with a grunt. Taking advantage, I used his body as leverage, shoving to the side with so much force that I fell on the floor, then scuttled back across to the door. I shivered, both from adrenaline and sudden loss of his heat, wrapping my arms around my body. Despite everything, I was still turned on, which was seriously fucked up. It wasn’t right, feeling this much lust and anger at the same time.
“Did you really think you could lie to me about everything and expect me to just take it?” I asked, pushing to my feet. He frowned, taking a step back, eyes glittering with a mixture of lust and frustration.
“I wasn’t thinking at all,” he said, eyes darkening. “I spent the last twenty-four hours in a jail cell, fucking helpless while the whole town was calling you and telling you stories about me.”
A bitter smile twisted my lips.
“Half the town doesn’t even talk to me,” I pointed out. “Remember the whole slut-shaming thing?”
“Fuck them,” he said, the words surprisingly harsh. “Fuck all of them. You’re better than the rest put together, Tinker, and you’re sure as shit better than me. But remember how much they love to spew shit when you hear the rumors about this weekend. Rumors about me, and what’s going to happen next. There are big changes ahead for the Nighthawks.”
I swallowed, wanting him and hating him at the same time.
“You’re part of the Reapers MC,” I said slowly. Gage nodded.
“You’ve heard of them?”
“My husband was a prosecutor,” I reminded him gently. “I’ve heard plenty about your club and other clubs like it. And I know what kinds of things you’re responsible for.”
Gage shook his head.
“You don’t know my club,” he said softly. “But you will. They’re here in town because things got out of hand with the Nighthawks—we both know it’s true. I came here to see for myself and found them terrorizing everyone. Now we’re going to fix it. Then I’ll introduce you to my brothers and their families and you’ll see what we’re really about.”
“I have no interest in your friends, let alone their families,” I snarled the word, turning it ugly. “Especially if they’re all as fucked up as you.”
Gage shook his head slowly, eyes hardening. “Hate me all you want, but don’t judge people you’ve never even met. My Reaper brothers are real, just as real as you and Darren and Carrie. They have wives. Children. We’re people, Tinker, not stereotypes. We live life on our own terms, but you’re a fucking hypocrite if you fall for all the shit people say about us, especially people like your ex. That’s bullshit, the same kind of bullshit they’ve thrown at you because of that stupid fucking sex tape.”
“You can’t compare this to that—you got arrested for drugs!”
“No, Tinker, I didn’t,” Gage said. “Everyone who got arrested for drugs is still in jail. I don’t fucking use meth, and there wasn’t a trace of it on me, either. Guess your sources were wrong about that, hmmm? Wonder what else they got wrong? Maybe you should ask first instead of making assumptions.”
I took a deep breath, shuddering with relief. I hadn’t even realized how Carrie’s phone call had scared me.
“So you weren’t selling drugs out of my apartment building?”
Gage caught my eyes, holding my gaze.
“No, Tinker. I wasn’t selling drugs out of your building. I wasn’t selling drugs at all. I was mostly fixing your roof and unclogging your toilets and trying to figure out what to do about this incredible, sexy, irresistible woman who came into my life at exactly the wrong time, because I couldn’t get her out of my brain. Give me a chance, Tinker. I dare you. Meet my brothers. Meet their families. But keep your mind open. Otherwise you’re just as bad as Maisy and Heather. They’ve held that tape over you like you’re some kind of whore who deserves to be punished for being human. But you aren’t a whore and the truth is never that black and white. Get to know me, get to know my brothers. My family. Give them a chance.”
I considered his words, and something hit me. Before I’d been caught on that tape, I’d have felt perfectly justified in judging him. He’d lied to me, and there was no excuse for that. Except it sounded like maybe he did have a reason. I thought about Sadie and her bruising. About the fact that she’d refused to go to the police, and that if she had, Marsh might have punished her for it.
Cooper hadn’t lied about one thing—something had gone terribly wrong in Hallies Falls, and it needed fixing.
Try it. Try opening your mind. See what happens.
“So that means I’ll meet your sons?” I asked, stomach twisting. He was right—I didn’t know what’d happened, and I didn’t know this new version of Cooper. I tried to imagine him as a parent—had tried to imagine it all along—but I’d never been able to picture it. The thought of this scary man having children was almost beyond me.
Gage didn’t answer immediately. I studied him, growing nervous. There was more—I could sense it. See it in his face.
“I don’t have any children,” he admitted.
Raising a hand to my stomach, I thought about Tricia.
“You don’t have kids?” I asked, stunned. “You lied about being a father to me? Why would you lie about that, of all things? What does that have to do with a motorcycle club?”
He sighed. “I lied about everything, Tinker. I created the man I needed to be, for my club. But then I met you and that’s fucked everything up worse.”
I knew he was still talking, but my brain was shutting down. Jesus, and I’d thought the first lie hurt . . . but this. Treating the idea of having sons—living children—like it didn’t matter, I couldn’t wrap my head around that. I’d wanted my baby more than anything. I’d give my life to have her back, and this Gage person used imaginary kids as a prop in his little motorcycle spy game.
I couldn’t do this.
“Get out,” I said, clutching
my stomach tighter, picturing her precious little face. It’d looked like she was sleeping. A man with sad eyes and a camera had come into my hospital room that afternoon. He’d taken a portrait of me holding her, and then she was gone forever.
Tricia hadn’t been a lie.
“We need to talk,” he insisted.
“Get out,” I hissed, something breaking deep inside my soul. I wanted him out, and I wanted him out now.
He shook his head. “We’re gonna work through this.”
“Get out of my house!” I shouted at him, slamming against his chest with both hands as hard as I could, really putting my body into it. In that instant I hated him. Hated him with all the black rage I held coiled inside and he wouldn’t get the fuck out of my way! Grabbing his shoulder, I tried to knee him like I’d learned in self-defense class. He blocked me at the last minute, catching me and wrapping me tight in his arms, holding me prisoner.
“Settle down,” he muttered. I bit his shoulder. Not playfully. I dug my teeth in deep and hard, and if it hadn’t been for his leather vest, I’d have drawn blood. “Jesus, fuck! Stop it!”
I bucked against him, and while his arms tightened around me I had the advantage, because I didn’t give a shit. I didn’t give a shit about hurting him and I didn’t give a shit about hurting myself.
I just wanted him to leave before I shattered into a thousand pieces.
“Stop,” he grunted. Loosening my teeth from his shoulder, I went for his neck instead. He wasn’t expecting that, and when I dug in he shouted in a way that let me know I’d hurt him, and hurt him good. Finally. Suddenly his arms dropped as he shoved me away, one hand clutching his neck, blood oozing between his fingers. It happened so fast that I fell back on my butt, slamming into the wooden floor. Pain washed through me, but the anger numbed it. Gage backed away, glaring at me. Ignoring him, I jumped to my feet and lunged for the sideboard where he’d coiled his belt.
Coiled his belt and set down his gun.
