Jigsaw (Hell's Handlers MC Book 3)

by Lilly Atlas

  Still holding her jaw, he turned her face away from him and licked a line from her collarbone to her ear. She shuddered beneath him, and her hips rose, stroking her still clothed pussy over his cock. Time to take it to the next level.

  He kissed down her neck, harsh, biting kisses that had her moaning and writhing under him. Surprisingly, she obeyed and kept her arms high above her head. As he continued his journey, he ran his hands up and down her thighs, pausing to squeeze the outsides of her ass with each pass. When his mouth reached her nipple, he latched on with strong suction.

  “Jig,” she cried out, arching her back until her tit nearly smothered him. He sucked hard, soaking up each whimper of pleasure. Izzy wasn’t a shy lover. She openly relished the pleasure he dished out. As he drew away, he caught her nipple between his teeth and tugged. “Fuck, that’s good,” she said then chuckled. “Not sure how much more of this I can take.”

  He smiled as he licked his way to her other tit. “You can take it. You really have no choice.”

  She hmphed, but it quickly turned to a sharp cry when he grabbed her other nipple with his teeth hard enough to pinch. Her pelvis ground against him, wet through the fabric of her yoga pants.

  “Shit, Iz, you’re soaking me through your clothes.” He rose to his knees and looked down at her flushed nipples, wet and swollen from his mouth with a trail of red marks running down her chest.

  “I want you,” she said. The statement simple, yet powerful.

  Sliding his hands under her, he cupped her ass in both hands, hard enough to leave marks and she moaned long and loud. “God, I fucking love this ass,” he said. “Lift it for me, babe. Gotta get these pants off so I can fuck you.”

  She complied, and he peeled the pants down her legs. When he reached her feet, he yanked off her shoes and socks, chucking them somewhere across the room. In no time, she was clad only in a tiny black thong. “Panties stay on,” he said.

  “Works for me.”

  He grabbed the condom and rolled it down his length. Izzy watched his every move, eyes hungry. When he was suited up, he knee-walked his way back between her legs, cock in hand. “You ready for this?”

  “You have no idea,” she said on an exhale.

  “I have some idea.” As he spoke, he couldn’t resist teasing her. He ran the tip of his dick through her saturated folds. Unfortunately, he hadn’t planned too well because the heat of her and the way her opening flexed as though trying to suck him in nearly had him filling that condom way too early.

  “Christ, Jig. Fuck me already.” She sounded pissed off, and he laughed two seconds before he powered into her with a brutal snap of his hips.

  “Holy fuck,” Izzy cried, her back bowing and arms no longer above her head. Hands landed on his shoulders with a hard slap one second before a set of ten nails scored his skin. “Christ, Jig, you’re fucking huge.”

  A man could hear that phrase a million times and love it every single time. He winked then fucked her exactly like he’d promised. Hard, fast, raw, ruthless. She kept with him, meeting him thrust for thrust, her hands clawing at his back like a wild animal. Every time he slammed into her, Izzy’s pussy clenched at his cock, and she let out a soft whimper. Those sounds amped him up almost as much as the feel of her tight heat surrounding him.

  At one point, their eyes met, and it was like taking a sucker punch to the gut. The damn woman had a grip on more than just his cock. He had to put an end to it immediately. He pulled out, flipped her over, yanked her to her knees, and shoved back in before he even gave her a chance to catch up. She cried out as he picked the pace right back up.

  “Fuck, this is insane,” he swore he heard her whisper, but she didn’t miss a beat, pushing back on his dick with every fierce thrust.

  He fucked her, fucked her, and fucked her until his strong woman’s arms gave out and her upper body collapsed on the mat. Then he gripped her hip with one hand and pushed on her lower back with the other. When Izzy arched, her stellar ass rose. The angle tightened her pussy on his dick, and his eyes nearly crossed.

  “Oh, my God,” she said as the new angle affected her as well.

  Jig palmed her ass, grabbing a healthy fistful in one hand as he banded the other arm under her hips. He had about thirty seconds in him before he unloaded and he’d be damned if she didn’t explode first. Pinching her clit, he squeezed her ass cheek and used it to bounce her on his dick. Three thrusts later, Izzy’s pussy clamped down on him, and she stiffened, screaming through the orgasm.

  The feel of her coming all over his cock pushed him past his limit. He powered into her twice more before shooting into the condom. The pleasure was so great, his vision went completely white as he lost all sense of reality. He hadn’t come that hard in, well, ever.

  Izzy sagged beneath him, utterly spent, and let out a happy little sigh. Bending forward, he licked a line of perspiration off her back then latched on to her neck with his teeth. She moaned, a weak sound full of exhaustion. “You took it all,” he whispered in her ear.

  Her left cheek was on the mat, eyes closed, a smile on her lips. “Told you,” she mumbled. “Also told you that you needed that. We both did.”

  He nipped her earlobe then rolled onto the mat next to her. He was fatigued, but sated and now able to take on all the problems that awaited him and the club. She was right. He had needed that.

  Izzy had figured out exactly what he needed and given it to him without question even though it wasn’t her usual way of doing things. That went far beyond the call of duty for a friend, and even further than what’d he’d expect for a fuck buddy. Their chemistry topped the charts, but this was more than chemicals and heat. And he had no idea what to do with that. For now, the plan was to just ignore it. Ignore the growing emotion and connection because he had no use for it and had no fucking clue how to deal with it. Not anymore.

  Thankfully, Izzy seemed to be of the same mind.

  “We need to get this place cleaned up and get out of here before Zach catches wind,” he said, even though he wanted nothing more than to take a nap right where he lay.

  Still prone, eyes closed, Izzy said, “How would he ever know?”

  “You’ve got a guard dog waiting outside for you to go home, remember? Half these guys gossip worse than high-school cheerleaders. Guarantee he’s already been on the line with Zach, telling him we’re still here. Hell, the perv probably peeked in the window and got off watching us fuck.”

  Izzy’s eyes popped open, and her mouth formed a surprised O. Then she burst out laughing. He should have known embarrassment wouldn’t be her first reaction. She was a sexual woman and owned it.

  “Well, shit,” she said. “I forgot all about him. I hope he’s not pissed.”

  Jig rolled to his side and faced her. “You better have forgotten all about every other man in the universe while my dick was inside you. If he’s pissed, who gives a shit? And if he watched, I guarantee he’s satisfied, not pissed.”

  With another laugh, Izzy slapped his leg. “You’re terrible.”

  “You were singing a different tune five minutes ago, sweetheart.” He stroked a hand down the curve of her spine, smoothing over her ass which was dotted with his fingerprints.

  “All right, Casanova, I’ll give you that one. You sure can fuck.”

  A swell of pride rose in him as he stared at the marks he’d left on her body. It looked like she belonged to him. His woman.

  A pit formed low in his gut. No woman would be his. Not ever again. But if he were to have one, he’d sure be proud for it to be Izzy.

  Shit. Those thoughts needed to go before he did something stupid like ask her on a real date.

  “Let’s get moving,” he said, sitting up and grabbing her clothes for her. As he held them out to her, he didn’t miss the flash of disappointment in her eyes.

  That was fine. Minor disappointment was a million times better than an obliterated heart any day.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “SEE YA TOMORROW, Rip!” Izzy
yelled out as she left work on a rare early day. She’d had her last appointment at noon, and Rip told her to take off when finished, he’d handle the walk-ins for the rest of the day. So at two, she had a free afternoon. And she knew just how to spend it. Hanging the valences over her front windows.

  Not exactly a wild adventure, but she’d been too busy to get it done and couldn’t wait to see how her favorite part of the house looked all dressed up.

  “Bye, babe!” Rip called over the hum of his tattoo machine.

  The fifteen-minute drive home passed quickly, and she only spent about seven of those minutes thinking about Jig.

  Progress. At least twelve minutes of the drive into work that morning had been devoted to him.

  They hadn’t spoken in the three days since they’d fucked like crazed maniacs in Zach’s gym. Jig clearly needed time and space to process what went down, and to be honest, so did she. The radio silence hadn’t actually bothered her.

  Too much.

  But she was annoyed by the small part of her that was disturbed by the cold shoulder treatment. Because she shouldn’t care. And never had in the past. One and done. Get hers and get out. No messiness, no insincere promises, no potential for hurt.

  This was exactly why she should be glad they hadn’t spoken. He screwed with her mind as well as her body, and only one of those was acceptable. “You’re pathetic,” she mumbled as she turned into her long driveway. “What the…?”

  As Izzy coasted closer to the house, she leaned forward, and her heart dropped straight out of her chest. “No!” She slammed the car in park and flew out the door, not bothering to shut it. “No, no, no.”

  Her house, her pride and joy, had been vandalized in the worst way. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she slumped to her knees in the grass. All six of her gorgeous windows had been smashed to smithereens. Sharp shards of glass glittered everywhere she could see, inside the house, on her porch, scattered throughout the bushes and grass.

  Her heart stung with an ache similar to what she experienced when her mother died. It was dumb. A house was a house, a thing, but it was hers. One hundred percent hers. Something she’d worked and saved for all her adult life. She’d achieved it all on her own. The house was so much more to her than wood, nails, and drywall. It was a symbol of her independence. A validation of her choice to remain single, unattached, and trudging through life without help.

  Now, it was a huge fucking mess that would take all weekend to clean up. Not to mention the expense of replacing six large windows. Did homeowner’s insurance cover that sort of thing?

  Of course, if it did, she’d have to report it to the insurance company. And they’d probably demand a police report. Which would no doubt be a problem for the Handlers. First the diner, now her place. This reeked of Lefty, and her involvement with the MC would come to light if she called the cops.

  Shit.

  This was a crotch kick to the bank account for sure.

  Anger burned in her gut, hot and lethal, chasing away the unshed tears. Who were these pieces of shit to think they could mess with her sanctuary and get away with it? They could do their fucking worst, and she’d bounce back every time. Some broken glass was nothing compared to what she’d battled in her life. With that thought, she tried to ignore the heartache caused by the loss of her beautiful windows.

  “Well, fuck them.”

  First, she’d get some lumber to board up the house, then once she’d simmered enough to have a reasonable conversation, she’d call Copper and ask him what the fuck he planned to do to stop these assholes. Izzy rose just as the rumble of a motorcycle came cruising up her driveway.

  Great, her watchdog. How could she have forgotten?

  As she stormed back to her car, LJ hopped off his bike, his face a picture of disbelief. He’d backed off on the flirting—she had a sneaking suspicion Jig had said something—but was still very protective and sweet toward her. “What the ever-lovin' fuck? Izzy, you okay? What the hell happened?”

  “How the fuck should I know? How about you find Lefty and ask him?” She jammed her hands on her hips. “Actually, that’s a great idea. I’d like about five minutes alone with that guy to ask him myself.” Shaking her head, she back-walked toward her car.

  “Izzy, wait, where are you going?” LJ pulled his phone from his pocket. “I gotta call this in to Copper.”

  She gave him her back and waved a hand in the air. “Do what you gotta do, buddy. I’m going to the hardware store.”

  “Iz, wait!” When she didn’t stop, he roared, “Goddamnit! Isabella, get that tight ass back here.”

  She slid in the driver’s seat and called out the open door, “Don’t you Isabella me, you overgrown babysitter. Call Copper if you need to. I’ll be at the hardware store.” With that, she slammed the door and peeled out to shouts of “goddamnit!” and “woman!”

  In the ten minutes it took her to drive to the hardware store, she hadn’t cooled in the slightest. In fact, stewing in her anger had caused it to swell to epic levels. She parked like shit, shoved out of the car, and marched into the store, right past LJ who’d rolled in just behind her.

  Once inside, she beelined straight for the lumber. Since she’d recently measured for the valences, the window dimensions were fresh in her mind. She wandered the aisle, trying to determine precisely what she needed when someone called her name.

  “Hey, Izzy.” Stephanie and Mav walked over hand in hand, smiles on their faces. If LJ had reached Copper, the president hadn’t gotten the word out yet.

  “Hey, guys.” She blew out an unsteady breath and tried to still her shaking hands as she hugged Stephanie and accepted a kiss from Mav.

  “You doing some work on your house?” Mav asked.

  “Uh…” She swallowed. Lying had never been her strong suit, but she really didn’t want to talk about what happened until she had time to process it.

  “Mav, what the fuck are you doing over here? Thought you needed a drain snake.” Jig rounded the corner and walked into their aisle. “Oh, hey, Iz,” he said when his attention landed on her.

  “Yeah, I do, but Steph saw Izzy across the store and wanted to say hi.”

  Jig’s phone rang, and he frowned as he pulled it out. “Copper. Let me take it quick,” he said, walking back down the aisle.

  Well, shit. There went her reprieve.

  Jig answered the call then slowly turned around, his gaze piercing her like a burning laser. It seemed every muscle in his very buff body grew more rigid with each tick of the clock. The ever-present scowl morphed into a twisted sneer that had her biting the inside of her cheek. Oh, boy, he was not pleased. He spoke for about thirty seconds then stuffed the phone in his pocket and stormed back over to them.

  “Yikes,” Stephanie murmured. “That is not a good look. You do something bad, girl?”

  Izzy sighed. “You’re about to find out.”

  Mav shot her a curious glance as Jig got right up in her face and stared down at her. “You want to tell me why the fuck my president is calling to tell me your house was fucking vandalized?”

  Stephanie gasped. “Oh, my God, Izzy! What happened?” She shoved her way between Jig and Izzy and grabbed Izzy’s upper arms. “Were you there? Are you okay?”

  Izzy nodded and kept her comments directed to Jig. “I got out of work early and came home to find all six of my front windows completely smashed.”

  “Fuck,” Mav spat out while Stephanie sucked in a sharp breath.

  “Wait,” Stephanie said, giving Izzy a chastising look. “Why didn’t you call Jig? Why are you here?”

  “I have to get some plywood to board up my windows.”

  Stephanie laughed like Izzy’s words were hilarious. “No, you don’t.” She motioned her thumbs toward Mav and Jig. “That’s what you have these guys for.”

  “It’s my house,” Izzy said, “my responsibility. Why wouldn’t I have come here?” Did Stephanie really think she’d pawn the task off on someone else?

  “Is that f
ucking so?” Jig asked, his voice so menacing Izzy flinched.

  “Oh, boy,” Steph whispered, slinking out from between Izzy and Jig. “Uh, Mav and I are just gonna, uh, go…somewhere else. Come on,” she whispered, yanking Mav away by the shirt sleeve. The idiot had the nerve to laugh as his woman led him off.

  “Geez, Jig, simmer down. I wasn’t hurt. I’m pissed but fine.” What was he so furious about?

  “Oh, I’m so glad to hear it.” His voice was laden with sarcasm as he folded his arms across his chest like he was trying to intimidate her. Fat chance.

  “What the hell crawled up your ass?”

  “It’s just Izzy against the world, isn’t it? Didn’t even cross your mind to call the man who took you home from the hospital when you’d been beaten by the same assholes who destroyed your house? Didn’t think the man who had his cock buried in you up to your throat just a few nights ago might want to be kept in the loop?”

  “Jesus, Jig, keep it down, will you?” she said in a harsh whisper, looking up and down the aisle. Any shoppers had scattered the moment Jig raised his voice. “What? You think fucking me three days ago gives you some kind of rights to my life?” She snorted out a laugh. “You haven’t even talked to me since then.”

  Whoops. That wasn’t supposed to come out. Now she sounded like a jilted lover.

  Which she was not. She was just a pissed-off woman with a stupid biker overreacting to something that wasn’t any of his business. Okay, that wasn’t entirely true since his club’s enemies were the ones who kept coming after her.

  “Maybe you missed the memo, Jig, but I take care of myself. I don’t need a big man to hold my hand in the hardware store while I pick out lumber.”

  He threw his hands in the air. “This isn’t about fucking lumber,” he yelled. “It’s about you being too stubborn to ask for help. It’s about you thinking you can be a fucking island and do every goddamn thing by yourself.”