Indecent Lies (Renegade Souls MC #7)

by V. Theia

  Not all men were equal.

  “I saw you, the other night in the bar. You were arguing with Rider.”

  Though his smile didn’t drop, an inch of coldness entered his eyes. Coldness Poppy shivered at. “I don’t think … I don’t think Tait or myself want to have dinner with you, if you don’t mind. He’s trying to have a good life.”

  Half turning, the man made to walk to his car, but glanced at her, a predatory smile cut over his mouth and once again she got the impression he was not being friendly at all.

  More likely calculating with the veneer of normalcy. “This is what I wish too. But let me tell you, Miss. Astor.” How the frick did he know her name? That wasn’t creepy at all. “Leave business to men, your time is much better spent making yourself pretty for your man, da?”

  Wow. This guy and his outdated misogyny would probably get on famously with her parents.

  After she’d staggered up the flights of stairs, she stormed into the apartment and found Tait closing up the fridge.

  He eyed her; he eyed the millions of bags.

  “Did you leave anything behind at the stores?”

  Poppy was too frantic to realize what he’d said at first, she was busy dumping the loot at her feet and shaking out of her puffy coat.

  “Oh? I got my bank account back. But never mind that, Tait, you’ll never guess…”

  “Did you know there’s 15 candy bars in the fridge drawer?” Walking toward her, he hauled all her bags in two hands, easy as that, and dropped them onto the couch for her, she trailed behind him, intent on telling him what just happened. But he was distracting.

  “What? Yeah, I needed chocolate last night while you were in the apartments downstairs so I went to that little store on the corner. I used that twenty dollars you left on the side; I owe you.”

  He laughed lightly, looking like a runway model with rugged man like features.

  “Little girl, let’s just assume my money is yours at this point, okay?”

  She nodded, stressed and swooning a tiny bit seeing him dressed in what she called his biker clothes. Dark distressed jeans, the wallet chain hanging around his hips and a long-sleeved black undershirt. The sleeves pushed to his elbows; he was showing his arm veins like an attention seeking manslut.

  Before she could get a word in, he went on. “Does anyone need that many candy bars?”

  Of all the…. She blinked and gaped up at him towering over her, every other thought fled the building because of the blasphemous thing he’d just said with a straight face.

  “Says the man who dislikes chocolate.” He shrugged. It was the one thing about his teen self that she wasn’t enamored by. Tait was crazy. “What kind of person hates chocolate? It’s insane, you’re not normal, Tait. You might have something internally wrong with you.”

  He smirked and made things so much worse by adding. “I like fruit.”

  “You are crazy. Fruit and chocolate are not the same thing. I can’t believe I’ve had sex with a chocolate hater.”

  This made Tait laugh.

  It brought her back to normal and she tried to shush him with her hands on his chest when he grabbed. “Listen, Tait.”

  “No one was complaining about what I ate last night.”

  A pulse of heat went right through her.

  He spoke the truth.

  He’d crawled beneath the comforter and stayed there until Poppy screamed with her legs shaking.

  She playfully batted his chest and buried her burning face.

  “More chocolate for you, little girl. I’ll stick to gorging on your beautiful pussy.” His shirt was the softest thing she’d ever felt and thank God, it hid her gleeful embarrassment.

  He called her vagina beautiful. She’d worn diamonds and designer dresses and that was maybe the best compliment she’d ever received.

  But yet again, the gorgeous smelling man was distracting her.

  Especially his ass grabbing hands, so she blurted.

  “That Russian guy was just outside.”

  Every inch of humor on Tait’s face fell away.

  “What the fuck.”

  “He talked to me.”

  “What the actual fuck? He was here? Outside? And he fucking talked to you?”

  She quickly went through it.

  And that’s when, no word of a lie, she felt the air turn cold surrounding his big body. Standing unnaturally still, with his head hanging low and his eyes darkly hooded, she felt the air turn frigid.

  “He fucking touched you?”

  She stumbled over her words because even though it was a serious situation, the gruff voice tumbled her belly over.

  “Well, he sort of caught me before I slipped on the ice.”

  “He fucking touched you, Poppy.”

  “Just my forearms.”

  More growls fell out of him and a cavalcade of shivers assaulted the surface of her skin. Not from fear. Never from fear. “He fucking touched you.”

  Rounding her, he set her aside and prowled over to look out of the windows and then he grabbed a set of keys he kept in a bowl on a console table by the entryway, next was his leather jacket he swung into.

  “Tait, where…?”

  “Wait right here, lock this door behind me, Pop, and don’t open it for anyone but me, got it?”

  “Tait, what?”

  “Got it?” He growled, eyes flaring.

  She bobbed her head nervously, chewing on her lip. “I got it, but where are you going?”

  “Lock this behind me.”

  He slammed out and seconds later she heard him stomp down the stairs and then a few seconds after that the roar of his bike. The bike he shouldn’t even be riding in this weather, he was likely to break his damn neck.

  She rushed over to the windows in time to watch him roar off down the street.

  See, if he were a chocolate eater, he probably would have a calmer temper, she thought. She went to unpack and start dinner.

  She hadn’t forgotten she had seducing in mind.

  * * *

  The asshole on the door was no match for Texas when he shoved himself inside and took the stairs.

  If the man himself was surprised at Texas slamming open the office door loud enough that it crashed against the wall, he didn’t show it.

  Mainly because when Texas burst in, Grigori was banging a chick over his desk.

  Texas was far too deeply into his own fury to give a rats ass what the guy was doing, or the fact that Grigori didn’t appear fazed by it because he gave one last thrust and pushed the girl away, he buttoned his pants before speaking to her in Russian.

  If Texas had been a little calmer, he would have noticed the lack of enjoyment on the woman’s face and the cold fear in her eyes. As it was, he didn’t watch as she pulled down her thigh hugging skirt and looked back at the Russian. “Go, Marianna,” he issued and the dark haired woman glanced at Texas but speed walked out of the room.

  Grigori paid no mind to Texas while he fixed himself a drink, smirking from behind his desk.

  “My friend, how good to see you. I would have offered you a complimentary turn with Marianna, but she is shy.”

  Charming fucking man. “Not your fucking friend. Not interested in your whore. Why were you outside my house?”

  Rather than answer, he glanced at Texas with a smirk on his lips before he sipped his drink and placed the glass on the table. “She is lovely, comrade. I suggested we share a meal. Cement our business, da?”

  Acid rushed up into Texas’ throat with just the thought of this evil piece of shit around his sweet Poppy.

  Over. His. Dead. Fucking. Body.

  They’d looked into Penelope.

  Probably had all the info on her family and their influence.

  Not altogether a surprise.

  Texas assumed they’d have him watched to test if he went back to the MC.

  He should have been better prepared, kept her out of sight.

  “You don’t share her air.” He had more to add.
“My girl doesn’t exist to you, are you understanding me? What the fuck ever game you want to play, you put her in it, I’m not happy.”

  “You have many years with MC and yet you do not learn it is not advantageous to wear heart on your sleeve, comrade. It makes a man like you weak.” Grigori delivered the speech in his somewhat stilted English like he was giving life advice to a son and Texas about saw red as he stormed forward, leaning over the desk with his fingers holding him up.

  His eyes flared as he bared his teeth and issued his own warning with quiet bullets. “Whatever is on my sleeve is my business, Russian. You stay away from my woman, you don’t pull her up in the fucking street, you don’t come to my house, ever.”

  “Protection, da. The lovely one needs it in a place like this,” Grigori simpered slyly. “As you are a part of my conglomerate now, I could have a man watch her for you.”

  “Fuck you. And hear what I am saying, stay away.”

  “Therein lies your weaknesses, my friend. If I were a lesser man I would take advantage of such show of care. But we are friends, da?”

  Fuck you, friend, Texas thought, with his rage bubbling his stomach.

  “I respect your wishes, and I did not mean to scare the woman, you give her my apologies,” when Texas turned on his boots, Grigori stopped him. “But while you are here. Perhaps we talk for a moment. I wish for you to put me into contact with your brother.”

  The penny dropped like a clanging symbol and when Texas spun around it was with clarity of just how Grigori had played him and Texas had delivered himself up on a fucking platter.

  The other man grinned with his hands clasped on his desk.

  Give a veiled threat to Poppy’s safety and then offer a solution in which Texas wouldn’t have any other choice but to accept.

  “Who?” He asked.

  “Ah, come now, my friend, let us not build a relationship on lies. Your brother, twin in fact, is he not? Malachai Hunt, decorated agent of the ATF department with many commendations from the mayor of New York City.”

  This guy was good.

  Texas buried the fact he was related to Mal for a long time, he didn’t care how Grigori uncovered the truth because he wasn’t playing his game.

  “I said I’d make you money, that’s the beginning and end of this.”

  “A pity then.” Grigori shrugged.

  The threat clear, contaminating the air between them.

  If Texas didn’t introduce his twin to the bratva underboss, then something would happen to Poppy.

  “I think we could have a happy accord with your blood relative, da?”

  Texas smirked. “The biggest mistake you’ve made… and you’ve made a lot… is showing me your plate, because I’m hungry and you want to know something? I have nothing to lose.”

  Only he did. Poppy, if the implied threat was to be taken seriously.

  As he’d said earlier, over his dead fucking body.

  He wasn’t a violent man, but he’d gladly push a blade in his eye socket.

  “This is not happening,” he turned and walked out, and luck was on his side when he took the stairs, a room on the third floor was wide open and inside were rows and rows of liquor from floor to ceiling. He snapped off a picture and emailed it to the sheriff with the location.

  Let the fuckers keep busy with a raid.

  When he got back to his place, it smelled delicious, gravy and wine in the air, but all Texas saw was the beauty at the counter.

  She’d changed into little shorts and put her hair up on top of her head.

  She was flushed from cooking and she gave him the biggest smile.

  Three seconds to reach her.

  Two seconds for his gut to tighten.

  One second to smash her lips under his and force her mouth open to get at her taste.

  He was an animal tearing her shorts down, kissing hell out of her. He swallowed her gasp, her sigh and her dreamy moans when she cottoned on to what he wanted and she started doing her own tearing of his clothes. He had her against the kitchen wall, dick lined up when he breathed against her lips. “Tell me you’re ready.”

  “Oh, my God. Yes, Tait.”

  Good enough for him.

  She said she liked it when he fucked her like an animal. That’s all he had in him at that moment.

  He shoved forward and buried all his rage and terror inside the hottest heat of all. Wetness slid around his cock and made pleasure fire through him. Ah, God. It felt good.

  She cried out, dug her nails into his shoulders and wrapped her legs.

  She didn’t deserve this, but he couldn’t stop.

  Needed to fuck himself sane.

  Needed her.

  Needed to keep her safe.

  She meant something to him.

  Too much.

  And he showed her with his body.

  He’d never had sex like it.

  The fucking best ever.

  “Do you need me on your clit, baby?” He rasped, going hard.

  “N-no,” she moaned and showed she didn’t by buckling on the next deep thrust.

  She came and then he came on a roar, staying planted in her with her mouth against his throat. She was sweet and soft and he’d regret later just how hard he’d taken her. But Poppy didn’t seem to care. She giggled and played with his hair. “Well I was going to seduce you tonight.”

  He groaned and glided up once more, just to feel her pussy shatter pulses around his dick. “Just you breathing seduces me.”

  He might have told too many lies in the past.

  But that was one of the truest things he’d said.

  And he made sure to tell her over and over for the next few hours.

  Dinner was burned, but it tasted delicious when he eventually let her out of his bed so they could eat.

  And hours later, when Poppy was curled up warm on his chest sound asleep, Tait flipped through the local channels and watched a news report of a liquor raid downtown on Grigori’s building.

  Texas went to sleep smiling.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  “The biker with many faces.” - Texas

  The smartest way to get one over on a Russian underboss was to take it slow.

  Lay the foundation for deceit and betrayal.

  Over the following week, Texas went in sly and hard.

  He didn’t have to play nice with Grigori, not now the man knew where he stood, but he did show up at his building and once at a restaurant when he was “summoned” he made like he was talking to Malachai and that his brother was heading to town very soon for this meeting.

  It pleased Grigori.

  Like Texas could give a fuck for making that man happy.

  But he fed him ways to make fast and easy money.

  Nothing that would clash with Rider or the club.

  He made that abundantly clear.

  And while he did this, he supplied what information he could get from drunken goons, so easily bribed with booze and cigars, to the sheriff.

  In total that week, there were several raids for illegal imported liquor and cigarettes caught at the docks.

  It was petty and small and probably didn’t cost Grigori anything other than it irritated the man and that was enough to have Texas grinning.

  The big fish though was that porn warehouse and it was next on his agenda.

  As yet, Grigori hadn’t mentioned the endeavor to Texas, but he could smell the money laundering from a mile away, and he was eager as a rottweiler to get his teeth into it. He considered a few times taking what he knew to Lawless, but though some of the boys were friendly with him, it didn’t mean they’d trust his word.

  On this he was alone.

  The opportunity came a few days later.

  He made sure his girl was staying home that day and he went to meet the Russian.

  He felt it in his bones, today was the day.

  Slipping his phone away after alerting the sheriff not to be eating donuts any time soon, he stepped down off his bike and strode ove
r to the warehouse where Grigori in his expensive threads and attitude waited.

  He offered Texas a smirk and a handshake.

  Texas ignored both.

  “What’s this about? I thought my investment tips would have satisfied you for a while.”

  “Problems this week kept me occupied. I want you to take a look at my latest venture and see where I can capitalize on it.”

  The degenerate wanted to sell sex.

  Texas nearly regurgitated the maple bacon pancakes Poppy made this morning.

  He kept his face blank and followed him inside.

  It was busy. Busier than he’d seen it on his reconnaissance

  It was seedy as seedy could get. There was nothing arousing about the many set ups in each corner, the beds and couches all doctored for fucking and there was a weird smell in the air. Weed mixed with something else, like they were pumping stuff into the atmosphere. The noises, people moving around, mostly men shifting furniture, leading chicks onto different sets. Some were already naked, others in thin robes. He felt nothing but sympathy for these women. Whatever their circumstances, even if they loved fucking every hour of the day, there were better industries than a pimped out warehouse to do it.

  And he realized he was a fucking hypocrite because he’d watched and enjoyed porn many times.

  But this felt different.

  This wasn’t amateur shit you see nowadays where you know the couple are into fucking each other. It’s not Hollywood.

  Instead, it was a dank warehouse in Colorado, run by an unprincipled man who would sell every piece of pussy in there and not care at all if he ruined those women.

  Texas locked his jaw and kept in step.

  He hadn’t heard a word Grigori spouted in about ten minutes.

  Too busy checking out his men on the outskirts standing centurion with guns.

  Now, Texas was not familiar with porn sets, but he’d bet his left nut that there usually was not men holding guns anywhere.

  What a charming boss this motherfucker was. Bet he didn’t offer them dental insurance either.

  And he was gliding around like king of the roost.

  Talking Russian to his men, leering at the chicks getting railed while being filmed and choreographed.