by Jodi Linton
“What if I told you he kidnapped me? And I came to you seeking help?”
Benedict barked a laugh. “Bullshit, Connors. I’d be more worried for him than I would be for you.”
It sort of made her proud he saw her as a threat. After all, she planned on using a fake drug drop to lure the guy into a private meeting—two MC presidents working together—so she could put a bullet in his head. Benedict always put money before loyalty, and after she was able to convince him she had something he wanted, like dope, he’d happily signed up to do business together.
Smiling, she plucked up his shot glass and downed what was left of his bourbon.
“Just wanted to let you know my friend and I are here to have a few drinks, that’s all.”
Benedict slung both arms around the girls at his side and tugged them in close. “We still good to make our deal?”
She nodded, but stalled on her answer when a familiar voice interrupted, making the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand tall as goose bumps rose on her skin.
“There a problem here? Got you a whiskey, Em.” Cade sidled up next to her and wrapped a protective arm around her waist.
Damn. The move alone made the Vipers’ president suspicious. The hard biker knew her down to the mole on the back of her left calf, and he knew she never sought protection from a man unless it was Logan. She watched her biker pull his beer to his lips and take a drink as he cast a glare at Benedict over the bottle.
“Someone going to speak up?” Cade asked, his curt tone hinting at some kind of authority.
This hotheaded biker could get me in a lot of trouble. Reel him in, Em. She tugged on Cade’s elbow and shot him a warning look.
Laughter sounded from inside the booth, dragging their attention.
“No.” The Vipers’ president scooted out of the booth and stood. “Your girlfriend here was just telling me the two of y’all were going to have a few drinks. Put the tab on Cyrus Benedict.” He tapped her on the cheek. “Be a good girl, Em. We’ll talk soon.” Then the man she’d once called uncle, before he left the Sinners and started the Vipers, vanished into the shadows along with his biker sluts.
Put the sexy biker in the friend zone. That’ll do the trick. It’ll help ease the insatiable ache between your thighs. How’s that working out for you, Connors?
With that thought in mind, Em stretched her body across the pool table and looked over her shoulder at Cade. “Plan on joining in on the game, or are you just going to watch my ass? If that’s the case, this game is going to be pretty damn boring.”
The biker arched an eyebrow. “What? You don’t trust me to watch your back?”
Em twisted the pool stick in her hands. “The only person I trust in this world is myself, and even that’s getting pretty shaky.”
His wide shoulders moved as he let out a rich and incredibly sexy laugh. “Pinkie swear not to shatter your asshole fantasy of me.”
There was no denying Cade had smooth moves, but she kept her gaze on the pool table and gave nothing away. Like her own reaction to his closeness. “You do know I’m not the princess type, don’t you?”
He tugged at his white T-shirt. “Thank fuck. I’m not much into prudes, anyways.”
Ah, shit. This guy actually had her enjoying herself. She turned away, determined to focus on the game.
“Guessing you and Benedict aren’t exactly cozy.”
The pool stick slipped, and her elbow rolled against the wooden edge. “Sometimes the family you’re stuck with isn’t all that it’s cut out to be.”
Cade strode to the other side of the pool table and rested a hip against the wall. “Family, huh?” He lifted his beer, taking a sip. “When did the Vipers and Sinners enjoy each other’s company so much?”
Her head jerked at his quick response. “When did outsiders become so aware of the local biker-gang scene?”
He fiddled with the label on his beer. “Couldn’t just trust any club to lie low in, now could I?” The muscle in his jaw flexed. “Good thing I chose right,” he said. The playful sexiness in his rough voice mowed through her and lifted goose bumps on her bare arms. “If Benedict’s family, then why the beef?”
The mere fact she was about to spill deep-rooted secrets to a stranger alarmed her on many levels, though she couldn’t seem to stop herself. “My father and Benedict started the Dirty Sinners together.” Her hands squeezed the pool stick tighter. “Before my old man screwed Benedict’s sister and knocked her up with me. Now let’s just say things aren’t that smooth sailing in my world.”
Cade scrubbed his chin, and like so many before, Em waited to hear the so-where’s-your-mother question she knew was dancing on his full lips. Looking at her, he let his hand fall, and finally brought the ghost of her past to their conversation. “If Benedict’s your uncle, that means your mother…”
“My mother skipped town on my first birthday.” Along with Daddy’s cash and his Sergeant at Arms. She swallowed the frown. “I haven’t heard from her since, and I don’t plan on seeking out a happy reunion anytime soon.”
“Oh, I see. Sorry, Em.”
“Don’t say you’re sorry.” She huffed. “It’s all I’ve known, so what’s there to feel bad about?”
He paused. “But if you and the Vipers aren’t sweet on each other, why make nice? They’re dealing dope. You said yourself the Sinners aren’t into bringing any heat to the club.”
“Damn you’re just full of questions, aren’t you?” She lifted her head and stared mindlessly at the sexy man, working up the courage to ask her next question. “If you’re so sweet on the Vipers, Cade, you should’ve thought about looking for a job with them. They pull in the money around this neck of the woods.”
He didn’t say a word.
If that ain’t a red flag, Connors, nothing is. You do not need any heat brought to your doorstep. But she couldn’t help herself. Screw instinct. She had to hear him out.
“Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to leave a woman hanging?” She impatiently tapped her boot. “I know I’m not the most pleasant gal to be around. But if you keep staring at me like I just ran over your dog, I’ll scream.”
He snorted into his beer. “Rap sheet. The next arrest, and I’m toast.”
Right, not like she hadn’t heard that excuse before.
With a shaky breath, she lined up her next shot and bent over the table. “The Sinners aren’t in the business of trashing up the streets.”
Cade raised an eyebrow, his gaze stayed steady on her as if he was almost searching for a different answer. Like he could see right through that poorly devised lie. His lips twisted, and when he chuckled, the deep, manly sound floored her. “Good to know, since I’m not really in the mood to acquire any new shower buddies.”
The familiar laugh mowed through her body, the rawness in his voice taking hold of her stomach and making her shake at the knees.
She looked up at him and said, “Worried the boys in the pen won’t play nice? I swear I’m much better company than a group of very bad boys.”
Cade placed his hands on the pool table and leaned in close to her. “Why don’t you take a shot, Em?”
“I do believe I will.”
She slid her pool stick forward right as a heavy hand fell on her back. As if her thighs had a mind of their own, they clenched together from the controlling touch of his hand against her flesh, and in the end she was helpless to the way he made her pulse hammer. Shifting in her stance only caused him to drop the same hand lower, resting the warmth of his palm against the top of her ass.
“Sure you want to take that shot?” His thumb massaged soft, slow circles into the small of her back, and when he leaned over her to calculate her shot, all the oxygen rushed from her lungs.
The way he was driving her crazy with light touches, touches that made her hurt, Em couldn’t think straight, let alone make a decent shot.
He dipped his head and took a sharp, tortured breath. “This has trouble written all over it. You and me insi
de a seedy dive bar, and alcohol involved.” The nip of his teeth at the underside of her jaw caused a wave of excitement to tremble through every nerve ending. Anticipation. “If I could bend you over this pool table and prove to all these pricks that you’re mine, I would.”
She tossed a curious look over her shoulder at him. “But I’m not yours.”
Working a harsh swallow in his throat, he stepped in so close she could almost ride that substantial erection beneath his faded, worn denim jeans. “And ain’t that a damn shame.”
She sighed. “Right now I’m pretty sure getting wrapped up with you would be a bad decision.”
He rested his hands on either side of her body and laughed, the deep, rough sound throwing her off balance. “Bad? But I have a feeling you’d be fucking worth it.”
With her heart thumping, hot air rushed out past her lips at the slew of naughty fantasies he inspired. She was trapped, and yet she craved to have him suffocate her even more. “Sadly you’ll never find out. That kiss was a one-shot deal.”
She should have kept her mouth shut, but his high-handed attitude had pissed her off, so she recovered by acting like the kiss they’d exchanged had meant nothing. Crazy notion on her part because Em knew he’d seen the lust take hold of her face as he swallowed her moans and felt her fingernails dig into his shoulder blades, begging to be consumed. That kiss sure as hell meant more than nothing. But Em wasn’t about to say such a thing out loud.
Such words held the potential to burn.
He gripped her by the belt loops of her leather pants and roughly spun her around. Their chests collided, and the small distance separating their mouths practically dared them to kiss. “Not much into playing pool anymore. Toss the stick, Em. It’s about time you and I blow this joint.”
Trying her best to feign indifference, she squared her shoulders. “I haven’t finished my drink yet. Besides, I never said I’d let you drive me back to the clubhouse.”
As she stood pinned against the pool table, captured between his tattooed arms, the muscles in his forearms flexed, and gradually she saw the carefree biker who had surprised her with a midmorning ride be replaced by a man she couldn’t read. From the moment Cade had stepped foot on Dirty Sinners’ turf, Em felt uneasy, but hell if she could put a finger on it. Why had she let down her guard and freely hopped on the back of his bike? It’d been a risk to allow the dangerous man alone time again. But hell, she’d wanted it. She opened her mouth to speak but drew a blank when he brushed his knuckles past her midriff.
Eyes locked on her, Cade reached around her body and picked up the watered-down whiskey sitting on the pool table. His smile pressed into her hypersensitive flesh as he murmured at her ear, “Bottom’s up,” and then he tossed it back in one smooth drink. “Now be a doll and step in front, since neither of us want these fine customers paying witness to just how turned on you made me.”
She schooled her features. “Thanks for the ego boost, but on second thought I’ll grab a ride back to the clubhouse with a biker who won’t need to see a doctor after spending time with me.”
Cade crossed his arms and released a tortured laugh. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“Afraid not. See you at work tomorrow,” she said, dropping him a wave as she escaped to the bar.
“Count on it, Connors.”
Chapter Six
Talk about bad blood.
With a muttered curse, Cade stepped off the Harley, smoke dangling from his bottom lip, and crossed by parked cars as he walked onto Sinners’ turf. It’d been a stupid move to push Em Connors yesterday. Even stupider to believe he had the whole undercover situation in his pocket. After standing by watching Em casually give him the bird as she strolled off to the bar, he’d driven over to the Sinners’ garage, only to find Logan manning the office phones and orders to mop the garage floor, eliminating his plan to search Em’s desk for that phone number. When the day wrapped, Cade went home, forgoing the police chief’s orders to check in on the case, and instead jerked off to images of her body pinned up against the wall, begging to be taken and stripped of her tight black leather pants.
Shit, shit, shit. Taking her on a midmorning joyride had been a mistake. A big fucking mistake. What the hell was he doing enjoying the time they’d spent together? His orders were to seduce Em Connors to get information—that was his job. It was about his partner, not about the way his cock twitched every time she cut him a glance. He should’ve known better than to hang out with her at a biker bar and act like they were friends.
The realization that she’d gotten under his skin was frightening. He had gone into this job looking to erase his rebel image on the force, but in return he found himself enjoying the role of thug a little too much. Because after spending two days with the Sinners’ president, he was starting to doubt how easy the investigation would be.
As he stepped out of the shadows, he noticed the garage door was lifted and all the nonworking bikes were on display. Sunlight streaked in rays across the pavement. Cade slid his sunglasses down and took in the club member hunched beneath a motorcycle. Great. Exactly how he wanted to spend the morning…as Logan’s bitch.
Huge shoulders greased in oil flinched on a turn. “Wasn’t sure if you had chickened out, Jackson. After yesterday, you know?” The man Cade considered a threat wiped his hands on a rag as he straightened to a sitting position. “The name’s Logan,” he said, stretching out a hand. “Although most Sinners call me Wrench.”
Cade accepted the friendly gesture and shook his hand. “I’m a man of my word, Logan.” It’d been a calculated move to address the thug by his God-given name.
Logan wiped his hands on the seat of his jeans. “Yesterday you weren’t.”
He shrugged a shoulder. “Something came up that morning I had to take care of.”
The vice president scrubbed his hand over his face. “Next time you’re a no-show or late to the job, I’ll have Em revoke your right to step on club turf.” He paused. “I know your type, Cade. You get in close with the head man—or head woman—and slowly weasel your way to the top. I’ve seen it happen before…and it never ends pretty.”
Professional Logan didn’t settle too well. This guy was ready to spill his guts on the pavement just a few days ago. Cade liked the shit-bag VP much better than the cordial version. It made it easier to loathe the guy who Em chose to confide all her darkest secrets in. There was something about this guy that she related to, and damn it all to hell, Cade fucking hated their friendship. Not only did it make his job of getting closer to the female MC president more difficult, but as a man who was starting to enjoy her company a little too damn much, it caused his territorial pride to erupt in an explosive volcanic rage.
Cade grunted. “Point taken.”
“So, Em tells me you’re a nomad,” he said, watching intently as he strolled to the other side of the motorcycle. “The open road can be a lonely place. Cause some men to forget their loyalty.”
Without hesitation, Cade found himself trying to explain his lonely life to the Sinner. “Or give them hope; depends on how you look at it.”
The exact same bullshit was always exchanged on the first-round meeting. Names. Patch-holding club. Cock fights. Never once had Cade encountered an MC club that didn’t swing the macho stick in his face.
Logan’s lips twitched into an unpleasant smile. “You got a problem with claiming a brotherhood?” His words hit way too close to home and made Cade uneasy.
He swallowed, trying to clear his dry throat. “The open road is much more enjoyable than taking a fist to the jaw.”
“No argument from me on that one.” The biker laughed as he leaned back against the chopper that was missing a few parts. “I don’t like you much. Playing the part of the good guy ain’t my style, but Em seems to like you, so I’m willing to try.”
Maybe he’d misjudged this thing, whatever it was, with Em. Sometimes talk was cheap, and other times it made all the difference when it came to unearthing the truth.
> Cade snorted. “Good to know there’s no love lost between the two of us.”
“This club is my life, Jackson.” Logan rose to his feet and plastered a disapproving look across his face. “If you fuck anything up in this garage, you’ll be hearing from me.”
He cleared his throat. “You’re about as pleasant as that Benedict character.”
The VP went rigid. “Benedict, huh? Fucking around with another club could get your throat slit.” Logan bumped his chest into him. “Not like I wouldn’t take great pleasure in offing Em’s latest pet project. She’s always had a soft spot for strays.”
“Feeling threatened, Logan? Worried you’re being replaced?” He smirked and grabbed Logan by the collar of his leather cut. “You should be.”
All the air rushed out of his lungs when a fist collided with his side, and he stumbled back a foot, releasing his grip on the VP biker. “The last guy who threatened me, Jackson, is spending time in an unmarked grave,” he warned. “If you’re itching to meet him, I can make that happen.”
“Nah, I’m good.” Cade shook his head. “Em and that butterfly tattoo of hers will keep me company.”
With a firm pat on his shoulder, Logan scowled. “Being funny will get your ass kicked. She told me everything about the little date at the pool hall.” He grabbed an open beer off the workbench. “The toilets need cleaning. Seeing how you’re the shit-bag who pissed Em off yesterday, I only see it fitting as your first chore as the new Sinners’ mechanic.”
If hearing that the woman he’d dreamed about sucking him dry had spent her evening dreaming up ways to strike a counterattack at him with another guy didn’t make him have regrets, then nothing would. He blinked, momentarily caught off guard by images of Em and Logan sharing a beer. Friendly or not, the very thought made him so jealous he had the sudden urge to storm the clubhouse office and kiss the mother-loving hell out of her, making it known that she was his. Which was fucking crazy since he shouldn’t be having such strong feelings toward a person of interest on a case he was working.
