“Oh, Greta, I’m so—”
“Don’t touch her,” Cutter commanded in a cold tone.
Sage’s hand hovered in midair before returning to her lap. Stiffly, Greta focused on a spot in a far corner of the bustling shop. What the hell was happening to her? She hated bikers. Wanted nothing to do with them, but, here she was, trembling. This is dangerous. This I have to fight. A hand seized the back of her neck and pulled her sideways until she smashed against a massive chest. She jerked slightly and rubbed her cheek against the leather of his vest, better known as a cut, in a subtle movement.
He held her still until she got ahold of herself and indicated that she wanted to sit up. He slid his hand down her spine before releasing her. Mortified, she was about to leap up and run screaming from the coffee shop, but another—stronger—part of her kept her glued to her seat. A shiver went through her. The struggle between her body and mind was beginning to overwhelm her when he slipped his hand beneath her hair and massaged her nape. His calloused fingers left a trail of electricity crackling on her skin.
“Apologize.” Cutter’s baritone shuddered down Greta’s spine, and she cringed inwardly. She’d butted in and snapped at Sage.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
“Good girl,” he praised. She flushed at his compliment, and pleasure surged inside her. Sage’s eyes bugged out in shock. Oh, fuck. She’d outed herself. Not that Sage doesn’t know, but still. Shoving her chair backward with a screech, Greta stood up with her spine straight as a javelin. Cutter held her wrist for a moment before deciding to let her go. Smart move.
“Excuse me.”
At the counter, she requested a glass of ice water and emptied it in one go. She was desperate for something stronger than water, preferably a shot of vodka. Her head spun, but she’d be damned before she ran away. Stomping back to the table, she heard Sage giving him a piece of her mind.
“You can’t just grab people! Especially women. Grab, grab, grabby. You’re like a caveman.”
Greta placed a hand on Sage’s shoulder. “Relax, it’s no big deal.”
Ignoring Sage’s reprimand, Cutter kicked Greta’s chair out to make space for her. He slanted his eyes toward her and then over to her seat. When she hesitated, he raised one eyebrow. Growling under her breath, she threw her shoulders back and swept into her chair.
Cutter’s open arm settled on the back of her seat. Again. Blood rushed to her head at the weight of his stare. His blue eyes were at half-mast, praise for heeding him. A frisson ran down the length of her spine, because, asshole or not, he was devastating. A satisfied grin curved his full lips, his upper lip plumper than his lower. Like a pretty boy, only nothing else about him was pretty. Certainly not his square jaw, sporting a scruff of hair so blond it was almost imperceptible, but she noticed every detail about him. Like the curls on his fair head that she wanted to weave between her fingers and tug on as it moved between her legs.
What the fuck? Ugh, he’s a biker, and not the weekend type either. Pure, unadulterated alpha biker.
She schooled her features and settled for a scathing look that ordinarily froze men as if they’d looked into the eyes of Medusa. Unfortunately, he wasn’t cowed in the least. Was “subbie” emblazoned on her forehead? Changing tactics, Greta graced him with a fake, bright smile. Although he’d won this round, she’d be ready for him next time.
And there would be a next time, because she planned to fight him for Sage’s soul. At all costs.
Chapter Four
Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack.
The cover of Cutter’s Zippo snapped up and down, the percussion of metal on metal sounding through the twilight air. Cutter leaned against the brick wall of the back of the clubhouse, lighting the cigarette he’d pulled from his pack. Taking a long drag, the burning tobacco created a perfect circle of red light. Kingdom waved his arm and the motion-sensitive porch lights flashed. Placing his coffee mug on the ground beside him, Kingdom coughed and hit his chest with his fist, complaining, “Are you going to quit that lung cancer shit?”
Ignoring the complaint, Cutter turned toward Kingdom, his shoulder scrapping the brick wall.
“Prez can’t keep up anymore. Since the second round, he hasn’t been the same. If you want what’s best for him, talk to him about stepping down. You’ve been skirting the issue for over a year.”
Kingdom scowled and noted, “Don’t you lecture me. I’ll start talking to Prez.”
Cutter shot his brother a look of shock. “All those behind-the-door sessions and dinners at his house, and neither one of you spoke about it? Not once? Is that what you’re telling me?”
Dead silence hung between them. Kingdom wasn’t a pain in the ass on purpose. Although both their moms died of cancer, Cutter had never had a brother die on him. Chopper may have technically been Kingdom’s surrogate brother, but when he self-destructed, Kingdom had fallen apart. Luckily, he’d found Sage. The brothers groused about Sage not being from their world, but Cutter had recognized her potential from day one. His instinct had been right; she was one strong bitch and she’d pulled Kingdom out of the rubble.
“Yeah, that’s what I’m telling you. It ain’t your fucking business how we conduct ourselves.”
“Christ, you’re both in denial.”
If Kingdom hadn’t spoken to Prez about it, then it was worse than he thought. Didn’t faze him, though. Nothing stopped him from a mission. He took care of his moms. Check. Took care of Tommy. Check. Finished his tour in Iraq. Check. Finished his associate’s degree, like his moms insisted. Check. Never mind that he didn’t do fuck-all with it. The one thing he’d done against her will was join the Squad. She’d rejected him for it until she needed him to take care of Tommy.
“What’s up with Sage’s guard dog, Greta? She had the gall to dictate club business to me.” Fuck, he sounded like a pussy.
Kingdom gave Cutter a sidelong glance. “What in the fuck are you babbling about?”
“She tried to shut me down when I talked to Sage about you bein’ the new president.”
Kingdom’s fingers paused in the middle of poking at his cell. “You talkin’ club business? More importantly, you bothering my woman?”
“I’m not bothering her. I was discussing her new role.”
“What role would that be, exactly?” Kingdom asked in a careful tone.
“Why are you actin’ thickheaded? Old lady of the president.”
“Not sure I want that for her.”
“Why the fuck not? Sage is more than up for the job.”
Kingdom’s gaze skittered around the backyard. “If it’s not good for my woman, then I will not become president.”
The floor underneath him bottomed out. “Are you saying we’re not good enough for Sage? Because the Sage I know would disagree. She loves the club.”
“It’s not about what she wants, it’s about what’s best for her. My woman comes first. Period. The end.”
“Both can happen at the same time.”
“Maybe, maybe not. The verdict’s still out. She’s a criminal attorney and we’re not exactly clean. Sage’s legal career is important to her, and I’m not going to place it in jeopardy.”
“We’re cleaning ourselves up. Besides the bar, Puck and I checked out another boxing club. This one’s promising. We’re getting a proposal ready. After that’s up and running, we’ll be in the clear.”
“Cutter, we’ve got a few big jobs left, during an internal shift of power. We need the money more than ever with Prez’s medical bills. That’s a whole lot to chew off in one bite.”
“You can do anything you put your mind to, Kingdom,” he argued.
“It would put her in a vulnerable position, and I can’t have that.”
“We’ll protect her.”
“I’m not putting a target on the backs of my woman and kid.”
Shock reverberated through him, leaving his blood drumming in his temples. He was at Kingdom’s side, clapping him
on the back, but Kingdom put a hand up to stop him.
“She miscarried.”
His hand fell away. “Fuck.”
“I’m working on putting another one in her belly. Went to the OBGYN, and the doctor explained that shit happens. She’s healthy, I’m healthy. No blank bullets on my part. No problem on hers. But, I’m not putting my old lady and a kid in a potentially explosive situation. Ever.”
Cutter backed away. “Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that I can guarantee her safety. Sage would do it in a heartbeat.”
“Even if I said yes, Greta’s gonna fuck up that plan of yours.”
His jaw locked, but Kingdom continued, “Sage won’t do it if Greta says it’s a bad idea. She trusts Greta, and Greta’s not a fan, to say the least. Bad enough she hates bikers, but she hates bikers who do illegal shit more. In the beginning, she tried scaring Sage off me with tales of violence. Or, best case scenario, that I’ll be locked away for years.”
“I’ll take care of Greta.”
Kingdom pocketed his cell phone and bent down to pick up his mug of coffee. He gulped down a mouthful and muttered, “You don’t know her if you think that’s easy.”
“I know something you don’t know about that little submissive.”
Kingdom spewed coffee down his own shirt. Choking and plucking at his wet T-shirt, he snapped, “I don’t want to fuckin’ know that shit.”
“Whatever. Talk with Prez. See where his head is.”
“Assuming shit goes down the way you want, there’s one more issue. Loki.”
Cutter gritted his teeth before saying his next phrase. “And I’ll take care of Loki.”
Kingdom’s eyes shot wide. Barking out a terse laugh, he said, “Un-fucking-believable. The boy’s all grown up.”
“Yeah, don’t get used to it,” he griped.
The thought of confronting Loki was about as fun as getting punched in the face by a dude with fists of granite.
Shit was about to get real.
Chapter Five
Greta bent over to tuck some papers away in one of the filing cabinets lining the wall behind her desk. Sage’s hip was perched on her desk. Swinging a leg in the air, she commented casually, “I have a few minutes before my next appointment.”
Rising, she saw Sage’s eyes twinkling with mirth. “Whistle’s appointment. Yum.”
“I take it you like the pretty boy.”
“Oh yeah! A pretty boy dressed up in biker gear is the best eye candy ever.”
“Yet you’ve sworn off bikers,” Sage hedged.
“That doesn’t mean I can’t drool.” Greta flicked through the files one by one. Whistle and she had established a routine of harmless flirting. “It’s not a secret. You’ve met my mom. I’m sure you got the general picture of my life before I went to college.”
“True, although she only gave me the bare bones. The rest was deduction on my part.”
The door swung open and Whistle sauntered in, sporting a panty-dropping grin. Although he’d settled down a bit since patching into the Demon Squad as a full member, he was always a magnet for trouble. Once Sage finished with one legal tangle, he’d be back with another, without fail.
Following close behind him came Cutter. Greta almost swallowed her tongue and crouched low to the ground. What was he doing here? He’d never accompanied Whistle before. In the week since she’d met him, Cutter had preoccupied her thoughts more than she’d admit to another soul, but if Whistle was eye candy, then Cutter was hard candy. The kind of candy that a person sucked to the roof of their mouth. The addictive kind that left a row of cavities and thousands in dental fees. Cavities, and the bittersweet taste of heartache. She caught her lower lip between her teeth and bit down hard. His aura sucked all sober thoughts out of her, but no way would she let him hijack her control like last time.
“Hey, Whistle. Hey, Cutter,” Sage greeted them. Smacking her cheek, she gasped, “Oops, I just forgot about a call I have to make. Give me about five minutes.”
“No problem, Ms. Sage.”
Sage snorted loudly at Whistle’s all-to-proper address. Cutter explained, “After he missed his last appointment, Kingdom gave him another lesson about respect. Ain’t that right, newbie?”
Damn his voice. It was sexy smooth as bourbon.
Whistle muttered, “I ain’t no newbie or prospect anymore.”
“You might’ve been voted in by the brothers, but you’re a newbie to me until you prove otherwise.”
Sage waved her hand to cut off their bickering. “Relax, it’s all in the past. We’ve turned over a new leaf, and I’m certain you won’t have to ensure that Whistle comes to his appointments on time.”
“Doubt it,” Cutter grunted.
“Since when are you Whistle’s babysitter?” Sage inquired. He gave Greta a lazy once-over, and drawled, “Since now. Take your time, sweetheart, I’ve got things under control out here.”
Greta clenched her fingers before she succumbed to the urge to slap that cocky expression off his face.
Sage’s office door closed, and Cutter took the seat closest to Greta’s desk. He stared her down with those marine-blue eyes of his. She was not going to let him rattle her this time. Swatting away a pink-tipped lock of hair that had escaped her chignon, she plunked down on her seat and stabbed away at her keyboard. Whistle propped his butt on her desk, and said, “Hey, babe, ain’t seen you for a while. You’re lookin’ prettier than last time.”
A growl rumbled from behind them before a harsh voice boomed, “Get the hell over here, boy.”
Whistle jumped to attention and beat a hasty retreat. The command in his voice left her heart pounding, but she stamped down the flurry of butterflies in her belly. Butterflies were so overrated. Stealing a quick look, her pulse tripped as he drilled into her with those grim, deep-set eyes. A vein throbbed on his temple. Even better. Hell yeah! He was trying to ruin Sage’s life, and he was too arrogant by half.
“You’re being an asshole. To think, you have a reputation for being chill?”
His features turned hard. His eyes clashed with hers, penetrating her with perceptive eyes. One by one, he cracked his knuckles. “This here prospect,” he nudged Whistle’s boots with his own, “has to start acting like he deserves to be in the Squad. We can’t afford any weak links.”
Whistle visibly paled.
That was a low blow and he only delivered it because Whistle had dared flirt with her. She clamped her hand over her mouth before she wailed into him. Drawing in even, slow breaths, she hunkered down behind her screen. Wiggling her fingers over the keyboard until she’d released the tension, Greta then scrolled through her list of favorites and clicked open the Harley Davidson website.
Better the bike than the biker.
※※※
It was fun riling Greta up a bit. Her hair was slicked back to hide the pink in a tight bun by her nape. If she thought she had toned down her sex-kitten vibe, she was clueless as shit. The black velvet jacket that hugged her figure flapped open and revealed a bondage-like belt, with two large D rings on each side. Rings used to tie a woman down where you wanted her kept. Hot. As. Fuck. He crossed his ankle over his knee to give his swelling cock a bit of space in his tented jeans.
Glowering at the monitor Greta was hiding behind, Cutter murmured, “Damn, you’re a fine bitch.”
Greta’s head swiped left, her eyes zeroing in on him. Her mouth twisted sardonically. “You’ll never get to her. Not on my watch.”
Cutter leaned his elbows on his knees. His fingers contracted as he imagined tweaking her nipples while she squirmed, her pussy clenching on his cock. “Little girl, stop wasting your breath. Put that pretty mouth of yours to better use.”
Splashes of red colored her high cheekbones, and her eyes spit out fury. “You wish,” she replied, “but, all joking aside, I’m watching out for Sage. It’s one thing being associated with an MC, but she’s an attorney. She can’t be linked, on the highest level, with an organization involved in ques
tionable activities. Back off. Otherwise, I’ll take care of it myself.”
Christ, she was making it sound like they were career criminals. It wasn’t his job to set her straight about the level of involvement she was so worried about. Either way, if the pulse point at the base of her throat was any indication, she was enjoying their tit for tat as much as he was. And, she couldn’t keep her eyes off him for more than a few minutes at a time. He threw his head back and laughed out loud. “You’ve got sass in you, for sure.”
“You’re too stupid to live if you think I’ll let you get away with anything.”
Damn, she was begging him to dirty up her mouth. Whistle sent him an astonished look. The fucker had better turn away before he got the beating of his life. He opened his mouth to cut into Whistle when Sage stepped out of her office and sing-songed, “I’m ready now. Come on in.”
The tension in the air stopped her in her tracks, gaze swinging from Greta to the men, and back. Cutter subtly adjusted his erection, but when he stood up, he caught Sage’s smothered laugh. Irritated, he slapped the back of Whistle’s head. The kid yelped and muttered, “What the fuck?” As Cutter passed by Greta’s desk, she returned his hard stare with one of her own. Oh, he was gonna make her pay for trying to mess with him. And for being a cocktease.
Chapter Six
Cutter pointed to Whistle and then to the office door. “You. Outside. I’ve got business with Sage. I’ll get you for your appointment when I’m done.”
“Brother, it’s freezing out there. Why can’t I wait here?”
“’Cause I said so.” He narrowed his eyes. “And don’t call me brother until I give you permission.”
Sliding over to a seat farther from Greta’s desk, Whistle promised, “I won’t talk to her.”
“Did I fucking stutter? I don’t give two fucks what you say. Out!”
Without another word, Whistle flew out of the waiting room. Walking to Sage’s office, Cutter opened the door and swept his arm out for her to enter before him. Over his shoulder, he caught Greta’s bared teeth before she masked it quickly with a saccharine smile. He winked at her before clicking the door closed behind him.
Cutter's Claim: A Bad Boy Biker Romance (The Demon Squad MC Book 2) Page 3
