He knew Shannon saw his eyes lift, going over her head to connect with Rosalie, where they stayed while he asked, “Cole, can I get your keys?”
“Yeah, man.” Cole dug in his pocket, pulling out a set of keys and tossed them to Crash. Crash snagged the keys from the air.
He stared down at Shannon, and tenderness for her tore through him. He tried to remember that she was so out of her element here. But anger quickly followed. She could have been hurt badly. Some of these bitches wouldn’t hesitate to use a weapon, a blade, a broken bottle, he’d seen it all. Holding the keys out to her and leaning in, he got in her face, his voice low, his tone unmistakable. “Get the fuck up to Cole’s room, and wait for me there. You got me?”
She stood frozen in place.
He raised his brow. “I am not fucking with you, Shannon. Do as you’re fucking told. Now.” Her eyes slid to his brothers surrounding them, all staring at them. The muscle in his jaw ticked as he waited for her compliance. Finally, she took the keys and hurried off.
When she was gone, Cole started, “Crash-”
“This bitch do that?” Crash growled to Cole, cutting him off, his eyes burning into Rosalie.
“I think it was pretty much a toss-up who started it. They had words. Shannon shoved Rosalie. Rosalie retaliated.”
Crash’s head swiveled, eyes searching as he bit out, “Where’s Dog?”
Red Dog was pushing through the crowd and stopped in front of them. “What the hell happened?”
“That slut hit me!” Rosalie snapped.
Crash glared at Red Dog with a look that packed in a lot of meaning. “See to your latest bitch,” he growled.
Red Dog looked from Crash to Cole, who barked, “Keep her in check. It ain’t her ass she’s putting on the line, it’s yours.”
“I’ll get her out of here.” Red Dog grabbed her arm.
“Why do I have to leave? Make his girl leave!” Rosalie gestured toward Crash.
Red Dog didn’t bother to stop to answer that. He just hauled her toward the door.
Crash headed upstairs.
Shannon paced the floor of Cole’s room, waiting. What the hell had just happened? Things had gotten out of hand so quickly, and then Crash had been standing there, looking amused, and then concerned, and then angry.
Suddenly the door was thrown open. She whirled and found herself staring at the hard set of his face. His eyes flared, his jaw tight. He was still angry. No, more than angry. Maybe she deserved it, maybe she’d started this, but holy hell he looked pissed. The door slammed.
He took a step toward her, but he froze when she backed away. A black look twisted his features as he shook his head. “Don’t.”
She stared back at him with big glassy eyes.
He took another step, measured and watchful this time. “Don’t back away from me like you think I’d hurt you. You know better. You fucking know better, Shannon.”
“Then stop scaring me.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and strode past her. He went into the bathroom, and she could hear him rummaging around the cabinets. He returned a moment later, a wet washcloth in one hand and a small tube of some type of ointment in the other. He stopped about six feet from her, and his eyes dropped to her throat, eyeing the scratch. “That looks bad, Princess.”
Her hand lifted to her throat.
“Come here. Let me look at it.”
Apparently the anger had gone as quickly as it had come. She relented and stepped over to him. He dabbed at her throat, wiping the small amount of blood away and then applying the ointment. His touch was gentle. She stared into his eyes as he ministered to her. Then his eyes lifted and met hers, and she saw nothing but tenderness there. She watched his eyes crinkle with the start of a smile, and he murmured, “Well, you’re a real handful. What the hell did I get myself into when I took you on?”
“I admit things got out of hand, but it wasn’t my fault.”
“You take the first swing?”
She bit her lip. “Maybe.”
“Then it was your fault.”
“But, Crash-”
“I don’t do drama, babe.” He cut her off, his voice low, his tone unyielding.
She closed her mouth. Oh, my God. Was he telling her goodbye? Was he done, fed-up, washing his hands of helping her? A cold feeling formed in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t let that happen. She’d come to need him too much. “I…I’m sorry, Crash. It won’t happen again.”
He frowned, a shocked look crossing his face, as if he couldn’t believe he’d just heard an apology coming out of her mouth. He stared at her a moment, and then nodded. “Okay. But you’ve gotta understand something, Princess. That crap downstairs just now, that doesn’t fly. Not in my world.”
“I…I noticed all your brothers watching.”
“Exactly. You know why?”
She thought she did, but she kept her mouth shut.
“They were waiting to see what I’d do. How I’d react. How I’d deal with it. How I’d deal with you. And believe me, baby, there was only one way they expect it to be dealt with. Quick. Firm. And without hesitation.” He paused to study her. “I’ll let that slide once. Once, Shannon. Don’t let it happen again. We clear?”
“Yes.”
He reached up and tucked a strand of hair back from her face. “This is too much for you, say so. We can figure something else out for you. Otherwise, this is my world. Women got a place, but it sure as hell ain’t causing trouble. You need to understand that. You need to be right with that or this,” he gestured between them. “Isn’t going to work.”
“I understand.” She looked at the floor, hating that she’d disappointed him.
“Do you?” He lifted her chin and looked in her eyes. “I’m layin’ it out for you as plain as I can. I tell you to do something, you back down, and you do it. Only way this works.”
They stared at each other a long moment. It was a pivotal moment. She felt like it was a ‘speak now or forever hold your peace’ moment. She nodded.
“C’mere, babe.” He pulled her into his arms. She leaned into him, and hard muscle absorbed her. There was a strength in Crash, a masculine confidence that said he knew who he was, and it called to the female in her. She laid her head against his chest, tucked under his chin.
Crash liked the feel of her holding onto him, burrowing up against him. It was starting to become a tendency of hers, and he was starting to become addicted to how it felt when she did it. “So what the hell started all this?” He murmured the question into the top of Shannon’s head.
She pulled back and looked up at him. “Rosalie. She said some stuff that pissed me off. Not really what she said, but her bitchy attitude.” She shrugged. “I can be moody.”
“Hadn’t really noticed,” he teased, fighting a grin.
She closed her eyes, trying not to smile and shook her head. “Right.” When she opened them, a grin pulled at the corner of his mouth. It was sexy as hell.
“So, a catfight. Hadn’t really figured you for the type, Princess.”
“I was driven to it. That bitch made me go temporarily insane. What’s the story with her anyway? I thought Red Dog was married to Mary. What’s he doing with her?”
Crash blew out a deep breath. “What goes on between these guys and their women, Shannon,” he shook his head. “Not your concern.”
“So Red Dog is screwing around with Rosalie?”
He just looked at her, not answering her, which was an answer in itself, he supposed.
“And you? How many of those women have you been with?”
His brows went up. “Not answerin’ that one, babe.”
“Have you been with Rosalie?”
“Fuck no!” he declared emphatically.
“So all these guys, they’re all fucking around on their wives or ol’ ladies or whatever you call them?”
“Not all of ‘em.”
; “But most?”
His hands dropped from her hips as she pulled away, stepping back. His arms hung at his side, his hips canted out. “Look, some things never gonna change, darlin’. The male animal? That’s just the nature of the beast. Not all are gonna be faithful. Maybe you want to blame it on the MC, but it’s no different out there.” He nodded in the general direction of outside the clubhouse. “Men are men everywhere. The rest of the world is no different. You want to believe it is, but it’s not.”
“I know it’s not, Crash.”
“But that’s not me, Shannon.” She looked up at him, and he could see the doubt in her eyes, but something else, too. Hope. She wanted to believe him. He smiled a small smile. “I’ll get you there. You don’t believe now, but I’ll get you there, Princess.”
She broke eye contact with him. He’d read her too closely, and she wasn’t comfortable with it. She didn’t want him to see how much she wanted his words to be true. He frowned. Another wall. He’d tear that one down too. One day.
“I’m sorry,” she stated again.
He grinned. “I’ll accept your apology over pancakes and bacon in the morning,” he stated, indicating she should make him breakfast, then he lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Or, you know, you could just give me a blow job.”
“Crash!”
“Apology sex is the best kind, you know,” he teased, watching her turn red.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He laughed, hooked her around the neck and walked her toward the door. “Come on, let’s go back down.”
They walked out of the room and could immediately hear whoops and hollers from the guys downstairs. Shannon frowned up at Crash. He grinned.
“Sounds like the show’s started.”
“Show?”
“Sonny’s girls. I heard the limo had pulled up before I came up here.” Crash took her hand and nodded toward the other end of the dimly lit hall toward the stairs. A shudder moved through Shannon. Could he feel her tremble?
“So, strippers come put on a private show? And this kind of thing happens a lot?”
“Most Fridays, the ones who aren’t on shift.” He shrugged. “It’s how Mack keeps the guys happy.” He urged her ahead of him with a hand at the small of her back. “The girls get free booze and make some extra cash. It’s a win-win. Especially since Sonny likes to keep a large stable so the acts don’t get stale. Keeps them all working.”
His palm was hot when it slid against her bare back as he guided her down the hall. The large size of his hand at the small of her back reminded her how much bigger he was than she. Made her feel small, feminine and protected.
“Don’t get skittish on me now.” Crash spoke low in her ear, and the touch of his hand at her back became firmer as if he thought she might try to run and he had no intention of letting that happen. She wouldn’t let him think she was afraid. He’d said he’d be with her every minute. Promised her, even. And she didn’t want him to think she was young and naïve. She moved with him, obeying his guiding hand urging her forward. “Can you hear it? The music?”
They’d been in Cole’s room long enough that the vibe of the party had shifted. It had a darker, more erotic feel now. The lighting was dimmer, someone had turned on a strobe light down there, and the driving beat of the bass seemed to throb through her, the pulsations reminiscent of the very act of sex itself. She paused at the top of the stairs. Taking in the scene below her. She could make out two women dancing on a small raised dais that she hadn’t noticed before in the corner. They weren’t completely naked, yet, but they were close.
Shannon swallowed, jerking her gaze away. But there wasn’t any place safe for her gaze to land. There were more circulating among the crowd, some giving lap dances, others rubbing up against some of the brothers.
She looked up at Crash. “You won’t let anything happen that I don’t want, right?”
“Got my word, Princess.”
She felt Crash’s warm hand close over hers, and he tugged her down the stairs and through the crowd toward a table in the back of the room where Cole and Red Dog were sitting. They passed a pool table where one of the girls was bent over backwards while a man was doing a belly shot off her or perhaps it was something else they were doing. Shannon just saw a lot of naked skin and tried to avert her eyes.
They passed a few other women rubbing up against the men. One girl was giving Green a lap dance, her naked body writhing against him. Shannon glimpsed the sparkle of jewelry dangling from the girl’s pierced nipples that jiggled as Green smacked her ass.
Shannon looked away in mortification. This was beyond her experience. These were men who had probably had a lot of women, apparently not just in a bed, but across pool tables, up against walls, and God knew where else. She felt overwhelmed by it all and was about to demand Crash take her home when he arrived at the high-top table in a dimly lit corner where Cole and Red Dog sat. And then the two men were staring at her.
Cole grinned. “You hangin’ in there, sweetheart?”
Crash sat down on a bar stool and pulled her to stand between his spread knees, her back to his chest. He answered Cole’s question before she could. “She’s fine.”
Cole signaled to one of the prospects, and a few moments later a rum and cola was set before her. The men were drinking Tequila shots.
Crash had one forearm on the table, his right hand riding lightly on her bare hip. She jumped slightly as his hand squeezed. “Relax,” he murmured close to her ear. “I won’t bite.”
“Relax? Easy for you to say,” she replied.
He chuckled. She felt the warmth of his breath on her neck, and heat radiating off his body to her bare back. She trembled in response.
“Sorry about earlier, darlin’,” Red Dog apologized.
“She knows the score, it won’t happen again, Dog,” Crash interjected tersely.
“No, I’m the one who should apologize. It’s not my business. Crash made that clear. I had no right to interfere on Mary’s account,” Shannon stated.
“Now you’re really making me feel lower than a snake,” Red Dog muttered.
“Enough of this shit. Let’s drink to letting it slide.” Cole lifted the bottle, pouring a round of shots. He paused over the fourth shot-glass, looking over at Shannon. “Gonna join us, Shannon?”
Biting her lip, she nodded, feeling compelled to accept even though shots weren’t really her thing. They all lifted their glasses. She did as well. Cole looked at her and instructed, “Gotta down it in one quick gulp now, babe.”
She nodded and downed it with the rest of them. The men all slammed their glasses down on the table. Shannon almost dropped hers. Holy crap! Fire exploded in her throat and mouth. She could feel it burning all the way down, and she started coughing.
Cole winked at her as her eyes started to water, and Crash signaled to one of the prospects. A moment later a glass of water was set down in front of her. She practically chugged the whole glass.
“You okay, Princess?” Crash asked, leaning down to her ear.
She nodded and gasped out, “Holy moly.”
The table burst out in laughter. Cole lifted the bottle. “Ready for another?”
She waived it off. “No. God, no.”
“You sure? Second one goes down easier,” Cole promised, trying to tempt her.
Crash pushed the rum and cola in front of her. “Maybe you should just stick to this.”
Red Dog looked over at Shannon. “You did me a favor tonight, girl. I shoulda run Rosalie off months ago. She’s a freaking nut-bag!”
Cole and Crash tried to smoother their laughter.
They drank several more drinks, and before she knew it, Shannon was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol.
Green wandered over trying to scoot in next to Shannon, but Crash put a stop to that by giving him a hard shove to the shoulder and sending him stumbling. At the same time, Crash’s arm encircled her low on her hips with a possessiveness as he pulled her back agai
nst him. There was a decisive quality to his shielding actions. The male protecting his female. It struck something deeply feminine in her that was unmistakably and intensely drawn to the masculinity of him. She’d never felt safer than she did with this man who was so opposite of everything she’d thought her ideal man would be. The rightness of having his arms around her drifted through her as the alcohol mellowed her.
“Hey, man, just trying to be friendly,” Green complained, drunkenly.
“Get lost before I beat your face in,” Crash suggested gruffly.
After he stumbled off, Shannon turned her face enough to speak against Crash’s jaw. “I thought you weren’t going to fight.”
He nuzzled her ear, growling with a low and sexy rumble, “Yeah? Do I get a reward for getting through the night without killing someone?”
She was corralled between his spread thighs as he sat on the barstool. Lifting one hand, she rubbed her palm over his thigh. “Maybe, if you earn it.”
His arms tightened around her, his laughter rumbling through her. “I like you like this,” he murmured against her ear. “Relaxed and tipsy and teasing. Sexy as fuck.”
The show was going on all around them with strippers dancing throughout the place, but none of it was getting her as hot as Crash’s voice whispering in her ear.
His mouth was suddenly on her neck, just below her ear, and then he was trailing kisses along to the curve of her shoulder. The tip of his tongue sliding over her skin before his mouth closed on her neck and sucked, gently at first, and then firmer. She felt her skin flush, and her breathing quickened. Dear God, it wasn’t fair how he could do this to her with just the touch of his mouth. Shannon trembled and felt his hold tighten. He was starting to have such an effect on her. She knew it was dangerous, letting herself fall for a man like him, but the feelings his touch was enticing out of her were starting to overwhelm her.
One of the girls danced up to their table, she shimmied and gyrated, her tiny G-string stuffed full of bills. Rather than lavishing attention on the men at the table, she zeroed in on Shannon. She reached out her hands, and taking Shannon’s hands, she tugged, trying to pull her from her place. “Come on, sugar. Dance with me.”
CRASH: An Evil Dead MC Story (The Outlaw Series) Page 22
