Blake’s lips curved up into a knowing smile. “You say that now, but mark my words, one day a woman is going to come along and change your mind, and I’m going to be right there beside you laughing in your face.”
Smirking, he said, “Keep dreamin’, brother.” Falling in love was one thing Tucker knew for certain was never going to happen.
“Yo, Country! There’s somebunny at the door askin’ for ya!”
Laughter rippled around the room. Puzzled as to who it could be, Tucker swiveled around and stood. Aside from a few curious faces, everyone had already gone back to whatever they’d been doing as he crossed the floor to answer the door.
Outside, the air was humid and stale, making his clothes cling to his skin immediately. Nice night for a party? Yeah, right. If the unseasonable heat didn’t let up by nightfall, he was staying inside and taking full advantage of the AC.
The brilliant rays of sun temporarily obscured his vision as he stepped out and closed the door behind him, sealing in the frosty air…but that didn’t last long.
“Um, hey. Hi.” The somebunny waved awkwardly, looking as if she’d rather be anywhere but standing on his doorstep.
“Talia, what are you doing here?” The last person he’d expected to see was her. Sure, he’d had plenty of women try for a second or even third chance at rounding bases with him, but she didn’t seem the type to give chase. After she’d refused his offer of a ride, he’d taken her to be that rare gem who knew how to avoid overstaying her welcome.
Maybe he’d been wrong.
“I uh…” Her cheeks flushed, and her gaze darted away as if she was uncomfortable. Funny, because she was an open book last night. He’d had a lot of fun figuring out just where and how she liked it best to bring her trembling into climax. Now, she was acting cagey, nothing like the confident woman who’d picked him up at the bar, and he was curious to know why. “I forgot…I lost my earring. It was my, uh, mom’s. I was wondering if you’ve seen it? Maybe in the bathroom or…”
Tucker studied her with a critical eye as she trailed off. So that was her game, was it? The old “I left something important behind” act? Well, color him disappointed. He’d thought she had more integrity than to try that old game on him.
She tucked her hair behind her ear, a nervous gesture if not for the fact that she just happened to reveal the ear that was missing its piece of jewelry. Trying to lend credence to her claim? He almost felt sorry for the “little fil,” as Taco had referred to her. Tucker was far from being a pushover.
Still, standing there in the waning sunlight, her hair combed back into place, a fresh pair of faded, torn-at-the-knees jeans and one of those tank tops with the bra built in that offered minimal support and a whole lot of nipple porn, and the scent of fresh flowers drifting from her skin had Tucker pulling back the reins on tossing her out of the gate so soon.
Maybe he should, oh…entertain her a bit before she left?
“I haven’t seen it, but you’re welcome to come in have a look around. I’ll even help you look for it.” If he’d expected her eyes to light up and for her to flash that pretty smile that’d snagged him on first sight, then he was sorely mistaken. If anything, Talia looked to be even more hesitant when he stepped back, opened the door, and waved her inside.
Huh. There was something he was missing—his gut never steered him wrong—but what? His instinct was to run his eyes over her, see if he caught any signs of a weapons bulge anywhere, but all her curves were on display, and there was nothing that set off any alarms other than that fine ass swaying in front of him.
Sticking close to her, Tucker surreptitiously shifted his hard-on. “Just head on back to my room. I’m right behind you.”
She didn’t indicate whether she’d heard him or not, but she went the right way, so he followed.
All around them, things were getting underway for the party that was due to start any time. The barbeque was fired up out back with a prospect behind the grill, the salads and drinks were laid out alongside a mountain of paper plates, napkins, and plastic cups. Ginger was prepping the bar, getting ready for an influx of orders, and one of the bunnies who’d offered to make herself dispensable in any way they needed was currently going through the music selection for the night. Someone was going to have to tell her that Spice Girls was not proper for a biker party.
Tucker caught Taco’s eye as he passed by.
“Yo, Country, I thought you said you were hunting for fresh meat tonight.”
At least the dumb fuck was smart enough to keep his voice down. Tucker made a slashing motion across his throat, indicating that he’d better shut his pie hole or else, then mouthed “Later.” If he changed his mind about the one-time deal with Talia, then the last thing he needed was his big-mouthed brothers ruining his chances.
Unfortunately, several times on his way to the back people called out to him with “Twice in one night?” and “Going for a new record?” and a few “Country’s got a girlfriend!” comments that got the hair standing up on the back of his neck.
By the time they reached his room, Tucker was fuming. He slammed the door behind them and breathed a sigh of relief. Those dicks were going to get a reminder of what his fist felt like later.
Hands twisted together in front of her, Talia turned to face him and said, “Looks like you’re having a party.”
Definitely cagey. Not at all horny. Shame.
Pushing off from the door, Tucker walked around the bed, making a show of looking for the imaginary earring. “Not me, the club. Some of our brothers are coming in from out of state, and we’re celebrating.”
At the somewhat snarky response, the fire in her eyes rekindled, and her back straightened. The change in her demeanor was starkly noticeable. “Well, yeah, I figured that much. At any rate,” she said as she got down on her knees beside the bed and stuck her head under it, “I only asked for the sake of making small talk. To break the ice, since, you know, I hadn’t really planned on ever seeing you again.”
“Is that so?” Coming around to her side of the bed, Tucker stood over her and crossed his arms over his chest, enjoying the view from above. She had a spectacular ass, all round and plump. Flashbacks to it jiggling as he pounded into her from behind clouded his vision, and he groaned low in his throat.
Damn, one time definitely wasn’t enough. Maybe he’d ask her to stick around a little longer, hang out with him, have a few drinks. Properly introduce her to the Spartan way of life.
“Yep, that is so.” Crawling around on the floor. Lifting the blanket. “Do you have a flashlight or anything? I can’t see a damn thing under here.”
Tucker unclipped his keychain from his belt loop and selected the long, thin penlight he kept on it. He handed it over. “Here.”
Lifting her head, fine hairs stood on end like a halo. “Oh, thanks.”
While she went back to searching, Tucker studied that ass a little longer. “So you didn’t come here looking for a little extra somethin’?”
“Something meaning…”
“Sex.” Obviously.
She started to laugh. “Wow, that’s some ego you’ve got there.”
“Come on, don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it. I seem to recall you screaming my name and God’s in equal measure.”
She crawled around to the other side of the bed. “I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it. As far as sex goes, you ranked up there pretty high. Does that mean I would lower myself by returning to the scene of the crime and throwing myself at the feet of a man who probably entertains a different woman every night? Nope. Not for a second. Sorry, bucko, but I have way more class and self-esteem than that.”
Tucker was torn between frowning and smiling. She enjoyed herself, ranked him up there with…well, he wasn’t sure who, and she wasn’t eager for seconds? Should he be offended? All those hours and years he’d dedicated to the craft of pleasing a woman, and she hadn’t even walked in there with a limp.
He’d definitely done something wrong.
Dammit, he was disappointed in himself. What if she wasn’t the first to walk out of his room without being fully sated? This would not stand. Could not stand.
That settled it. He was going to have to talk her into Round Two. Hell, maybe even three if he failed to turn her world into a pile of rubble.
“Found it!”
Shooting her arm up, Talia held the earring in the air. The small gem caught the light from the table lamp, glittering faintly. She began affixing it to her ear as she stood.
“What a relief. My mom would have a fit if I’d lost it for good. Thanks for letting me look for it.”
She patted him on the arm on the way back out, all friendly-like. She didn’t even look back.
Tucker didn’t like that one bit. “Hey, Talia?”
Pausing at the now open door, she turned to look back at him. Her soft smile was breathtaking, and his heart leaped a little.
“You feel like sticking around for a coupla drinks?”
THIRTEEN
Score! That had been her first thought after Tucker extended the invitation. Right up until she’d been sat down among a rowdy crew of bikers from near and far and left behind to fend for herself.
She felt like a fish in a tank full of sharks, and she was praying like a nun in a whorehouse that she’d somehow manage to fly under their radar and come out the other side unscathed at the end of the night.
Now, Talia sat at a picnic table surrounded by members of the Spartan Riders and their “friends,” also known as bunnies. And the absurd thing was, she actually felt overdressed for the occasion, because nothing screamed outsider quite like a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. Clearly, she’d missed the memo on the dress code, not that she’d have run out to outfit herself in the latest line of slutty sheik.
Talia growled when she reflected on her one stipulation for coming to the party: don’t leave her alone for a second. But the moment they’d arrived, Tucker had run off to get them both drinks from the keg—the bastard. She had a good mind to kick him in the family jewels later. Didn’t he know that she was a nervous wreck? All that aside, though, she’d have preferred a Fuzzy Navel instead of a cup full of beer, but nooo. He claimed they didn’t serve “girly” drinks. Shame, since a good shot of liquor would have calmed her raging nerves. So there she was, impatiently-patient while awaiting his return.
It wasn’t all bad, though. She’d been shocked but relieved—and a touch thrilled—that he’d asked her to go to the party. In fact, it was a major stepping stone for the case. Exactly what she needed to wiggle deeper into the club’s world. Frank’s advice had been spot on and effective, much to her chagrin, but she’d promised herself that the next time she saw him, she’d choke down her pride and thank him. After all, she had been ready to walk away, but with his help, she’d gotten the results they all wanted. Now, all she had to do was keep getting them.
As much as she wanted to credit all her internal excitement to getting another foothold on the case, though, she had to admit that a healthy dose of it was pure womanly desire.
Tucker had exceeded expectations and given her a night to remember. A night she’d gladly rinse and repeat many times over if given half a chance. And judging by how he kept looking at her and orbiting her space all evening, she thought he might be thinking the same.
“So, you’re with Country?”
A petite woman, beautiful with long, straight hair and a wide smile sat down beside her and held out a hand.
Talia shook it—the polite thing to do. “Yes, I guess I am,” she said, unsure if it was the right answer, but not knowing of another.
A strange look crossed her face, soon to be replaced by another disarming smile. “He’s never brought a woman to a barbeque before…that I know of,” she added quickly. “Blake, my boyfriend, says he’s a bit of a loaner.”
“Really?” Talia asked, surprised. “He doesn’t strike me as the type.” In fact, he was the complete opposite from what she could tell. Now, Talia, on the other hand? She was a loaner. Normally, a gathering as large as this would have had her crawling beneath a blanket and hiding out in bed all day with a book. But she had other more pressing matters that forced her to sit right where she was and be—gulp—social.
Good thing she knew how to compartmentalize. There was Working Talia and Homebody Talia. The two rarely met.
“I should clarify that. Country is a loaner in the sense that he actively avoids human interaction when it comes to intimate relationships, unless of course, that human happens to have boobs and is completely naked.” Her soft brown eyes skated over Talia. “You seem to possess at least one of those pertinent qualities.”
Feeling mischievous, Talia cupped her boobs and gave them a little fluff. “Oh, these old things?”
The woman spluttered then erupted in a full-blown laugh. “I think I like you already. I’m Gabby Morgan.”
“Talia Bruce,” she introduced herself, using the false last name she’d been assigned. The agency preferred a complete identity overhaul, but she refused. She’d screwed up once, forgetting who she was supposed to be, and things hadn’t gone too pretty after that. Ever since, she played everything a little closer to the truth in hopes of avoiding any unnecessary missteps that could cost her not only the case but her life. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” She stared, bemused, as Gabby started picking at a plate of ribs that looked and smelled absolutely mouthwatering. “So, Talia, what do you do?”
The sound of crickets filled her headspace. Shit! For a brief moment, Talia’s mind blanked. Just like that time in Guatemala…She swallowed, forcing the memories back down. A thread of anxiety whirled in her belly, and she searched the yard, hunting for Tucker and praying like a sinner on Sunday that he would magically appear and save her.
Then, like a strong wind sweeping away morning fog, she remembered her go-to story. “I’m a writer.”
“Of books?” Gabby sounded surprised.
“Yep.” Yes, indeedy, she thought, mentally swinging her legs to and fro. On the outside, she was the calm and collected person her FBI training had taught her to be, but on the inside…That was a totally different story.
Seemingly interested, Gabby popped a couple flakes of meat into her mouth, her eyes rolling back into her head before continuing. “What kind of books do you write?”
Now here was the tricky part. She had to be sparing on the details so as not to create a backstory that could be easily perforated, but she had to give enough to avoid arousing suspicion.
“I’m a fiction writer, specifically crime-slash-thriller.”
“Oh, that sounds exciting. I don’t get to read as often as I’d like, especially after gaining Blake and Ash, his son, hopefully my soon-to-be stepson. I’m hoping the man will get off his duff and get down on one knee sometime soon. You know, before the gray hairs he’s giving me start showing,” she rambled on. “Anyway. What are some of the titles? Maybe I’ve read some of your work.”
Talia blinked, filing away everything she’d just said for later analysis, and waved the question away. “Oh, you haven’t. I’m just getting started. Working on my first book, actually.”
Gabby’s face lit up, which worried Talia. “Really? What’s it’s about?”
Holy hell. Where was Tucker when she needed him? Convinced the man was taking his sweet time on purpose, she fumbled for words. “Um, well…let’s see…” How to summarize an entire book that didn’t even exist. “There’s a man. A nice guy, but kind of aloof. Uses his confidence and swagger to draw in his victims. Eventually, he falls for one of them,” she added, thinking of Tucker and his…everything. “But he doesn’t know that she knows all about him or that she’s law enforcement.”
“Ooh, twist!”
Yes, it was. Too bad it wasn’t fiction. “Yeah, I just hope it works out.”
“Oh, I’m sure it will. The plot sounds amazing. When you’re done, I’d love to read it. Maybe I can even help you with the editing process. English has always
been my favorite subject.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“There you are, woman. I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
At first, Talia thought the voice belonged to Blake, who was apparently Gabby’s boyfriend. She planned to ferret that lead out a bit more later. Who better than to gain valuable intel from than one of the member’s significant others.
Looking up and over her shoulder, she found herself staring into Tucker’s amazing brown eyes. “I’ve been here the whole time,” she deadpanned.
“Really? Could have sworn I left you somewhere else.”
“Nope. Been here the whole time.”
“Huh, well, here ya go. Thought you might be hungry.”
His long arm reached in front of her and dropped down a sweaty bottle of beer followed by a paper plate stacked high with what looked to be potato salad, chips, coleslaw, and a giant rack of ribs slathered in sticky sweet barbeque sauce.
She. Was. Salivating.
“You got all this for me?”
Shooing one of his biker buddies who’d been sitting beside her away, Tucker dropped down onto the wooden seat next to her. His hypnotizing eyes danced with mirth. “Well, I mighta nibbled a bit here and there on my trek over. Like I said, had a hard time finding ya.”
Riiiiight. Well, she wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Well, it’s not as if we haven’t shared enough germs already.”
Beside her, Gabby choked on a chunk of rib meat. Tucker grinned unabashedly.
“Woman, you’re lucky we’re in public,” was all he said before hooking the back of her neck with a firm hand and yanking her mouth to his.
She’d had less than a quarter second to realize what was happening before his tongue was buried deep inside her mouth, dueling for domination over hers, and giving her vivid flashbacks of just how dominant he could be when they weren’t in public.
Talia was so turned on, her thighs felt as if they’d erupted into flames. Forgetting where she was and who was around, she moaned into his mouth and tightened the seal, wrapping her arms around his neck and flattened her chest to his. He tasted wonderful, a tantalizing mix of fruit and citrus combined with the warmth and slickness of his lips and tongue creating an erotic experience that Talia was eager to explore further.
Mettle: (Spartan Riders #2) Page 9
