“I called your mom’s doctor and asked if it was okay if I took you away for the night. He said everything is good at the hospital if you’d be okay leaving for the night.”
“You want to take me on a trip?” she asked. Her voice was bubbly and excited.
“Yes. You deserve it,” I answered. “I just have a couple things to take care of before we go. Can I pick you up at your house around five?”
I was out behind Industrial, where it was quiet. It was always quiet out here. I think that was my favorite part about having my business in an industrial neighborhood. There were a few trucks here and there, lumbering down the street and kicking up dust, but for the most part, it was calm and quiet. That didn’t make it ideal for a business, but for a club? There was nothing better. And anyway, the club’s members drew in enough business to keep my employees busy almost constantly.
“I’ll make sure I get home and have a shower beforehand,” she said, chuckling. “I’m a mess.”
“I’m sure you look beautiful. I’ll see you tonight.”
“See you then.”
I hung up the phone and leaned against the brick wall, feeling the rough texture catch on my jeans. In between then and now, all I had to deal with was a possible traitor in my midst. Easy. I laughed to myself and rolled my eyes, pushing off the wall and re-entering the shop through the back door.
Niles, a long-time friend and trusted advisor when it came to shit like this, eyed me warily from the couch. Since the building that housed Industrial Tattoo was so large, there was room enough for a huge back area reserved for members of The Sick only. We had a pool table, of course, but I rarely used it. I liked to keep my work and pleasure separate as much as possible. It was a hard task now that I owned the business and managed the club that I used to ride in for fun, but I tried whenever I could. And I could play pool elsewhere.
The ceiling soared a good twenty feet above us. My dad had lowered the ceiling for the tattoo parlor but had left it at its original height for the clubhouse section of the building. That had always been my favorite thing about this place. Even in the constraints of club hierarchy, there was a sense of freedom that took over when I was in this back room.
Besides the pool table, the clubhouse was also furnished with a couple couches by a big flat screen TV, two lounge chairs, a long conference table used for meetings, and a kitchen area. That was where I found Grant, making what was likely not his first—or even second—sandwich of the day.
About a dozen other guys were lounging around, who I nodded at as I passed. Grant smiled when he saw me approach. “Is she excited? I gotta be honest boss, I can’t picture any girl being thrilled about being taken to that place.”
I smiled wryly. “I didn’t tell her where we’re going. She’ll find out soon enough.” I shrugged. “Besides, she’s different than most girls we know. I think she’ll like it.”
Grant quirked an eyebrow at me but said no more, taking a huge bite out of his sandwich.
I gave him a camaraderie-like pat on the back and grinned. When I spoke next, my voice was much quieter. “How did it go?”
He glanced around at the room. Nobody was paying us any attention. It was better for us to have a quick chat here than arrange to meet somewhere in private. In this case, that would arouse more suspicion that a quick, hushed conversation in the corner.
He chewed and swallowed. I watched the Adam’s apple bob on his throat. “They’re worried. All of them. Some of them are worried for you, some of them are worried about you.”
I sighed. “What kind of split are we looking at?”
He took another bit. “Sixty-forty is my best guess.”
I ran a hand over my face as if I could erase the tension from it with a quick swipe of pressure. Grant was one of the longest-running members of The Sick. He’d been a good friend of my dad’s, but had kept his distance from the hierarchy of power. He was a simple man; he didn’t want prestige or power. He just wanted to ride bikes and love his family.
Christ, how I wished I could be him.
I asked him to have conversations with the members of the club throughout the week, see how the climate favored the future of The Sick. So far, things weren’t looking good for me. Sixty-forty in my favor wasn’t horrible, unless you factored in my father having had full compliance. The club hadn’t done too many illegal things while Dad was around, but I’d still put at end to all of it. I had thought seeing their president in jail would set some of them straight, but apparently, I was wrong.
I didn’t have someone to pass the business on to like my dad had. If the club were implicated in something illegal, I’d go to jail and the business would be gone. We’d already spent so much in legal fees trying to keep my dad out of prison. There wasn’t any more room for error.
But apparently, forty percent of the guys didn’t understand that.
“And do you think any of them are conspiring? Or is it a matter of grumbling without acting?” I asked.
Grant was halfway through the damn sandwich by now. There were crumbs in his mustache. “I’d say there are maybe one or two people you need to keep an eye out for.” He flicked his gaze quickly to the couch then back to me. At first, I thought he was referring to both Niles and David, who were watching the game with beers in their hands. Niles had been a good friend to me for a long time; I doubted he would turn against me now.
“Not both?” I asked.
Grant gave a silent shake of his head. “But one’s enough. I worry about Brent too, but he’s more likely to join up with someone else than to actively gun for your job.”
I resisted the urge to go over and smack David upside the head. He had been a good friend of my dad’s as well. The fact that he was gearing up to wrest the club out of my hands—or at least could be—was enough to make my blood boil. My dad had taken that asshole in when he was just a kid, younger than I was now. He’d fed him and given him work. And look how David was repaying him?
I sighed and thanked Grant for his work. “But that’s enough now,” I added. “I don’t want you getting hurt because I can’t do my own damn reconnaissance.”
Grant’s laughter bellowed through the room, causing heads to turn. I gave him a flat look, but he waved it off. “Oh, as if that could happen, old friend.” He walked away from me, chuckling still, and I began to make my rounds of the room.
I was always conscious of the fact that most of these men were both older than me and had been closer to my dad than me. Whenever guys came to hang out at the clubhouse, I liked to go around and see how they were all doing. I considered it a part of my job, just like how customer service was a factor in the running of my business. The club’s members were customers of a very particular brand, and that brand had changed. It was my responsibility to make sure everyone got on board with that change.
I made sure to get to David and Niles neither first nor last—though David was my prime target. When I came up next to the couch they sat on, neither even looked at me. Both David and Niles shared a passion for hockey, something I had never enjoyed more than the fighting aspects of it.
“How’s it going?” I asked, passing each of them a beer.
“Aw, thanks, boss!” said Niles, cracking his open. He grinned at me. He always looked like a teenager when he did that.
David simply inclined his head in my direction. It was all I could do not to clench my fists at my side. No, scratch that—it was all I could do not to knock his fucking teeth in.
“Hey,” I said to David, firmer this time.
He leaned his head on the couch to look up at me. His hair was still brown, but it would start to turn gray soon. His wide jaw and narrow eyes always made him look like he was angry. Maybe he always was.
“Hey,” he replied gruffly. “Thanks for the beer.”
“How’s the shop been?” David was a tattoo artist by trade. He and four other members were the main artists in the shop.
He shrugged, looking back at the TV. “Don’t you do the books?
You should know.”
Fury gripped its claws in me, and all thoughts of reconciliation went out the window. “Do not fucking talk to me like that,” I snarled.
All at once, it seemed like every eye in the room snapped to the tableau unfolding in this corner. Niles looked over in shock, slowly standing from the couch and walking toward the bathroom. I gave him kudos for trying to make it look casual.
David stood and squared up with me, setting his beer on the side table as he did. “What are you going to do about it, huh? Are we going to work out our differences through non-violent protest?”
He was a big guy, but he wasn’t as big as me. One second he was taunting me, and the next he was pinned to the wall by my hand on his throat, like that pathetic stalker of Sasha’s had been.
“You might not like that I’m in charge, dickhead, but I am,” I spat. “It’s time for you to fucking get with the program or get out.”
He struggled against me, but I knocked him back until he stopped. Then I knocked him again for good measure, before releasing him to fall, sputtering, to the floor.
I turned to my audience. “That goes for the rest of you as well!” I announced.
I thought about making more a speech, but I was too goddamn angry to even think straight. It was either leave now or kick David’s rat face in. I chose the former.
Sasha’s face looked like pure sunshine when I picked her up. It cut through any and all of the unpleasantness of my day, filling me with something else. Something happier. And something more primal.
“When you say five o’clock, you mean five o’clock, huh?” she asked, chuckling as she walked down the front steps.
I looked at my watch. Five on the dot. Just as I’d said.
“Just because I’m a big, tough biker doesn’t mean I can’t be punctual,” I countered.
She came straight for me, planting a big kiss on my lips. I pulled her in tight, supporting the bike with both legs. Truth be told, it was going to take tremendous self-control not to just take her right now over the back of it. God, I wanted to. But we were in her driveway. She had neighbors. And we had quite the ride ahead of us.
“So what’s the plan?” she asked, parting from me. “Where are you taking me?”
I handed her my helmet and smacked the seat behind me, urging her to jump on. “I’m taking you to my favorite place in the world,” I said. “I hope you like frogs.”
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Sasha
“I hope you like frogs.”
He didn’t say anything more than that. What was that supposed to mean? Were we going down to the bayou? Were we going to be eating frogs? What? I didn’t know, but the more I thought about it, the less I cared. He could take me to heaven or hell. It didn’t matter. As long as I was with him, I was exactly where I needed to be.
I jumped onto the bike, and we took off. The sun wouldn’t set for a few more hours, so I had the best seat in the house. We cruised through forest and swamp, up highways and down side roads, until we passed a sign that said “Welcome to Rayne. Frog Capital of the World.”
I had an inkling, after that, where we’d be stopping for the night.
Since I knew we’d be stopping soon (unless there was a froggier place than the frog capital of the world), I reached the arms I had around his waist down slightly and began to rub him through his jeans. The vibration of the bike seat always got me horny as hell. It was something that I couldn’t hold in, even if the frog-themed restaurants, benches, and murals we passed weren’t exactly the sexiest.
It was kooky and cute, and the exact opposite of what I would have guessed as Zane’s favorite town. That made me love it even more. Anything he loved, I loved. And I imagined he had to love this place if he was willing to share it with me. Or anyone.
He took a left turn just off the main street, then rambled down a few side streets until we reached a driveway with a wood-burned sign that read “Maison de Memoire.” We crackled up the gravel drive slowly; through the heavy bulge in his pants told me just how fast he wanted to get there. And God did I want to get there too.
At the end of the lane was a small cottage. All the lights were off, but it still had a sense of brightness about it. The light blue exterior caught the last few rays of the sun and reflected them back brilliantly, making it shine like a beacon. It looked like a miniature manor house. And I think it was the one place in Rayne with no frogs.
“This is adorable,” I said, hopping off the bike. “We’re staying here?”
He grabbed me before I’d even made it to the steps. “Yes,” he growled into my ear from behind, his hands already groping at my breasts through my shirt. “And we’re alone, which is good for you since I’m going to make you scream for how much you teased me on the way here.”
I smiled wickedly, leaning back into him. “Aren’t you going to give me a tour first?”
He nipped at my neck. “Sure. Let’s start with the hot tub.”
I’d never had sex in a hot tub before. Now was as good a time as any.
Zane stepped around me and took the steps two at a time. I followed, stepping through the door as he unlocked it and opened it for me.
“I didn’t bring a bathing suit,” I said over my shoulder.
“I didn’t tell you to for a reason.”
His rough hands were on me then, stripping me without finesse or care for what I was wearing. If I had worn anything more difficult to take off, I’m sure it would have been in shreds. I turned just as he’d freed my breasts from my bra. Only wearing my panties, I kicked the pile of clothes at my feet aside and slammed into him.
His mouth found mine with ease, his tongue spearing inside and claiming me. I sighed and leaned in, the hard brush of his cock through his jeans filling me with fire. I thought about how I teased him on the drive, how he’d probably been mad with lust, just trying to keep his eyes on the road. I thought about how he had a way of leveling the board. I couldn’t wait.
Zane roughly stripped the last piece of fabric off me, gripping my small hand in his and pressing it to his bulge. “I’m so hard for you,” he hissed, biting my lip so hard I whimpered with both pain and delight.
“For me?” I said coyly, beginning to rub in slow circles. “Show me where the hot tub is and I’ll see what I can do.”
His laugh rippled through the air. “Oh no, sweetheart. You deal with this now.”
His hands gripped my shoulders and pressed down. I was on my knees before he’d even started undoing his jeans. My core clenched with pleasure. I loved when he took control like this. My mouth watered at the thought of his long, beefy cock filling it. This was the best vacation ever.
I bit my lip and looked up at him, my longing expression hastening his unzipping of his pants. He pushed them and his boxers down to his ankles, his girth springing free toward my face.
I had never seen a cock so beautiful. It was the thought I had every time I saw Zane’s. And it was mine. I nearly dove for it, but we were playing a game tonight. The restraint game. And Zane was about to lose.
When I didn’t move except to spread my legs a little wider in my stance, Zane’s dark eyes filled with unbridled lust and hot fury. It was like candy to me. HIs hand shot out and grabbed the back of my head by the hair, pulling my face to his cock. And God, that one action broke me. I opened my mouth and took him in fully. I’d been planning on teasing him, but I simply couldn’t wait. I needed all of him, all at once.
I licked at his shaft as I sucked, bobbing my head along his length, trying to get as much of it in my mouth as possible. He groaned above me, hand remaining on the back of my head but allowing me to guide the movements.
I lavished attention on him, licking and sucking and swirling my tongue. His moans filled me with joy and, encouraged, I upped my pace.
I had never felt as erotic and sexy as I did on my knees before Zane, an absolute mountain of a man who I controlled at this moment with just the touch of my lips and tongue. It was the strangest and most wonder
ful feeling I’d ever had. He was mine. I had always been his, but at this moment he was mine.
His groans grew louder, and with them, my movements grew faster. I wanted to bring him to the brink of pleasure and throw him over the other side. I wanted him to remember this moment for as long as he lived. I sucked on him harder, brushing my teeth so gently along his shaft that he might not have even noticed. The quaking of his thighs, however, told me he had.
“Sasha,” he moaned. “Sasha…”
I knew what he was trying to say. He was going to cum. With other guys, this might have been the moment where I would politely disengage and let him finish. Maybe that was just me in another life—another person. But I was sexy and confident, and I was going to finish off my man.
Wrecked by the Bad Boy: The Sick MC Page 15
