Rebel Love

by Jodi Linton

She heaved a sigh toward the ceiling. Bad move, Connors. You need to keep that head on straight and stop allowing Cade Jackson to wiggle underneath your skin.

  She’d given another guy in blue a window into her life. Perfect. Cade was a man with a badge, and even knowing he’d been sent in probably to sniff out what she knew about Wes’s death, Em couldn’t shake the ache to have him hold her again. Talk about an animalistic need if there ever was one. Hell, it wasn’t as if she knew much about that fateful night she lost Wes. She’d been blindfolded and left unconscious¸ and all she had to go on was the monotone voice laced with a lisp of the guy who tried to rape her and pulled the trigger. Until now, trying to find Wes’s murderer by just going on the guy’s voice was her biggest problem. Not anymore. She could toss one deceitful, sexy cop onto the pile.

  Taking slow sips of the whiskey, she circled the packed bar. Throttle was rolling in sweaty leather this fine evening. A little too damn packed for her taste. Unease stabbed at the back of her neck when an elbow bumped her and a stubble-lined jaw rasped near her earlobe. “Looking for a nightcap, I hope.” Logan’s deep baritone vibrated in her ear. “I told you I’d keep an eye on Cyrus.”

  She startled, whiskey spilling down her forearm. “Thanks for spilling my damn drink.”

  “Want to explain to me why you’re here, Em? Clearly I missed the mark on how our little plan was going to go down.”

  On the one hand, she loved how much Logan kept tabs on her. Yes, Logan had liked Wes, too. He was a good guy, a brother. Logan had wanted revenge, also, closure to this chapter in her life. Most importantly, he wanted to move on and actually pay the Sinners’ bills through profits from their classic bike shop and not from criminal activity. Still, Em had a job to do. If that meant keeping Logan out of the loop on her deal with the DEA, so be it. He’d sacrificed enough for the club. She wouldn’t let him lose his good name, the loyalty he’d built in the brotherhood, because of a pact she made to herself. He should get to walk away, clean hands, patch proud, and brotherhood intact.

  She traded a glance with her vice president. “What? A girl can’t want a change of scenery?”

  He stood very still, obviously not caring that he was questioning his president’s motives. “If you need me to say it again, I will. I hate that the Sinners are acquiring a reputation for dope dealing again. Even though they’re fake buys, it still paints the club in a bad light.” Logan sighed. “I know shit happens, but you really believe this path you’re so hell-bent on riding down is the best choice? We both agreed to change things after your father died. And now look at us.”

  The back of her throat suddenly went dry. Em took another drink, sending a cool, crisp burn channeling into her gut. “When did you decide to become my conscience, Logan Black?”

  “When I made the conscious decision to call you my best friend… Or would it be better if I said I cared about you like a sister? Would that make you have a change of heart?” he asked. “I just have a bad feeling about this sting operation we concocted. Something feels off, like we’re missing something.”

  Her bottom lip trembled. “Are you saying you don’t believe he’s our guy? If so, it’s best you step aside now before the shit hits the fan.”

  A gentle hand fell on her arm. “No. I’ve never doubted you for a minute, Connors. I know how much you loved Wes, but”—the muscle in his jaw worked on a swallow—“revenge isn’t going to bring him back. Hell, Em. You of all people should understand that, after what I went through with my sister.”

  Her eyes widened in disbelief. “So you’re telling me you’ve moved on. I’ll believe such horseshit the day you go back to college and shed the Sinners patch.” She took a hard drink. “Survivor’s guilt, baby. We both have it. And hell if I know how to outrun it.”

  He leaned his head back against the wall. “Yeah, survivor’s guilt.” His wide shoulders slumped as he stared back at her. “I wanted you to be happy, still do, and if walking away from the club life does that, I’m here to help. Maybe you should make a clean start and leave Cyrus and his men to me. I’m good at taking out the trash. It might be my most endearing quality.”

  The glass in her hand slipped against her palm. “Sometimes I think you’re a better friend than I’ll ever be.”

  He patted her on the shoulder. “Like I said before, I have your back until the end. Always. Never doubt that.”

  Em glanced up at her right-hand man and mouthed, “Thanks,” to her oldest friend. She appreciated his loyalty, and even though she hadn’t told him everything, including she was using DEA money to set up the drug exchange, she still would protect him at all cost. Nothing was worth ruining the life of another man she cared about. Not even her revenge.

  The Sinners VP pulled at the collar of his leather cut. “Will wiping Houston of Cyrus actually make things better?” Their gazes locked in a heated standoff.

  She was determined to make a case as to why ridding the streets of shitheads like Cyrus Benedict was the best line of attack, but instead she found herself frowning. Shit. Lurking in a dark corner near the bathroom stood Cade Jackson. She really could have done without another controlling bastard barking orders in her face. He lied to me, and I willingly—no, actually enjoyed—opening up to the bad-boy cop. Cade had become a thorn in her side. A problem she’d need to fix rather quickly.

  “It looks like we have a gawker.”

  Logan stared across the darkened bar. “Looks like the new mechanic has a crush. You want me to get rid of him?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, be quiet.”

  He grinned. “Hey, I’m just being a good friend. That’s all.”

  The green-eyed monster can really fuck you over.

  From a dark corner inside Throttle, Cade felt his gun rub against the small of his back as he stepped out of the shadows. Hell. Not even the academy had prepared him for the image of Em Connors in skintight leather strutting around a room full of shit-faced douche bags. He pulled the Shiner to his lips and drank in the amazingly sexy woman whispering an earful to her vice president. Long curls fell in a mess over toned shoulders. Pretty, pert tits tormented him beneath a sheer blouse. He needed another beer. When he’d finally allowed the information Roland had shared sink in about Em and his partner being in love, Cade hopped on his chopper and burned rubber over to Throttle, in a rush to stall whatever was going down with the Vipers. Then, oh then, he walked into the bar and found Em, the pretty little biker president he’d made cry for more the other day, whispering in Logan’s ear. No way in hell would he stand by and watch her get cozy with another guy. It didn’t matter that the guy in question was Logan. Cade might hate himself for what he was about to do. But he hated the biker sidling up next to his girl more.

  He chugged the remainder of his beer, tossed the bottle in a nearby trash can, and began the obvious I-am-a-jealous-fool stalk across the room. Blue eyes grew stunningly wide upon his approach. That’s right, princess. Your worst nightmare. Drink your fill. On his ride over, Cade told himself he’d escort Em outside and give her three seconds to explain herself when it came to Wes. But hey, that was before he’d witnessed her getting all cozy with Logan. His mouth fitted into a hard line, and the pulse in his neck throbbed painfully.

  A pang of hot rage bubbled up inside him as he cleared his throat. “Give us a minute, Logan.”

  A cute mouth parted in objection. “Where the hell do you get off ordering one of my club members around?”

  Her beautiful, bright eyes narrowed as she edged away from Logan to level him with a glare. Cade loved every minute of angry Em. Too bad they were both in a public place, because the urge to take her up against the wall had consumed every fucking one of his thoughts. Later. Unless she clocked him in the nose after he said his piece. The evening could really go downhill depending on how Em took the news he was about to dish out.

  Logan sent them both a pointed look. “You two play nice.” Then he turned to Em. “I need to go handle a tow…but if you need me I have my cell.”

&n
bsp; When the sound of clomping boots disappeared, Cade went for broke and swept some of her hair behind an ear. Silky, dark locks flowed between his fingers. Her eyes never strayed, growing more heated with each touch of his hand. It was a cruel act of fate how easily she could cause such damage to his so-called plans. He’d known blowing into Throttle like a desperate man hell-bent on retribution wouldn’t work in his favor. So he’d opted to go about their encounter more diplomatically. The thing was, diplomacy flew out the window once he’d spotted Em in a darkened corner with another biker.

  She flinched, gaze widening as his hand slid around to cup her neck. “How about I make this easy on you?” she whispered against his neck. “That hand of yours isn’t moving any farther south than my neck.”

  He snorted. “It’s not my hand you need to be worried about, princess.”

  Although the very idea of running his hand down her leather pants and giving them both what they ached for seemed nice, he knew they first needed to discuss the bad blood between them before they awarded the biker bar a show. Short, chaotic breaths puffed in and out of her adorable kiss-me lips. He had to think quickly, because his reserve, along with the willpower to keep his cock in check, was slowly dissipating.

  “I think you’ve forgotten your place, Jackson.”

  “My place?” he asked, slanting a curious look in her direction.

  She tossed her brown locks and laughed. “Thought you understood who the boss was in this relationship.”

  Seconds ticked between them, the fire in her eyes smothering into a pool of blue lust. He tangled his fingers in her hair and tenderly angled her neck to the side. She widened her stance and slithered down him, her hand running past the hard length in his pants. His cocked swelled. Relief rushed through him as her small hand molded around the strain in his pants. Damn, he needed that.

  Nudging her inner thigh with the length of his arousal, he placed his mouth at her ear. “Thought you understood that the next time you come will be when I’m fucking your tight little body. I’ll bring you to your knees and take everything. And when you beg me for my cock, I’ll start all over and take you again.”

  She moaned. “I won’t let it happen.”

  “Why, Em?” His hand rode up her backside. “Why deny what your body so desperately wants?” He nipped at her earlobe. “You want me…and I know you can feel how badly I want you.”

  Her tongue dragged along her bottom lip, and then she bit the swollen flesh. “Because I don’t get down and dirty with shitty cops.”

  “That’s not what I’ve been hearing.” Cade lowered his eyes on her face. “I thought you got your kicks out of screwing around with the boys in blue?”

  She shoved him in the chest. “Fuck off. I knew you were just some good guy scratching that bad-boy itch.”

  Two words. She’d pissed him and his cock off with only two words. No more Mr. Nice Guy.

  “Last time I checked, you claimed to not fuck around with good boys.”

  Em smacked him across the face. “Screw you.”

  For a split second the same tortured expression he saw on her face that day at Throttle reappeared, and damn did the man inside him want to soothe her pain. But then he blinked, and the bastard cop returned. He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Already have, babe, and the pleasure was all mine.”

  She stared at him, shocked.

  “And don’t even think about going for your pistol, Em,” he warned. “It won’t end pretty.”

  “You think so, Jackson?”

  His lips swept against her cheek. “I know so.” He circled his hand around her upper arm, and her breathing grew ragged as he whipped her into his side. “Princess, how about you and I find someplace a little less public to talk?”

  Chapter Twelve

  She’d been ambushed by a good-looking biker. No, make that a cop.

  Em barely remembered the walk from the bar that led them both down the narrow hallway. His hand fitted firmly into the small of her back, directing her toward the exit. She took a step, following the not so friendly gesture. Now, the idea of being in a less populated area in the presence of a man who was more than willing to show her the way to freedom through sex, made her feel small. What had she been thinking allowing Cade to manhandle her off like some cornered cat? Nothing. The motherfucking cop had blindsided her. Remembering the dangerous glint in his eyes as he spotted her across the bar only increased her desire to be the bad girl. She’d make the shitty man suffer. Then flee the scene before he saw the truth wash over her face—that he’d broken her heart. More than anything, she hated to play the “bad guy” card, but it ran in her blood. She wanted to make him pay for all the lies. Hell, the resentment she felt toward herself at fawning over the sexy biker—no, cop—churned her not so dead heart as if acid lined it. How could she have been so stupid?

  That thought alone made her heart bleed even more.

  Hadn’t she already been here before? Have you learned nothing? It’d been a poorly executed move to believe the man firmly pressing a hand into her back could be trusted. Could be her hero. Lesson learned, thank you very much. She stiffened her back and stopped, feeling the push of his hand when he tried to propel her through the doorway.

  Like hell she’d give the bastard an inch.

  “Desperate much to get me alone?” she said, hoping the tremble in her voice didn’t give away the pain slowly taking hold of her body. “It ain’t going to be hearts and roses, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “Just keep moving, princess.” The voice deepened, prickling the hair on the back of her neck. Guilt and disappointment tore through her. How low she’d fallen, allowing Cade to distract her from the path of revenge. He laughed darkly, the sound rasping at her ears. “Nervous much?”

  She froze. I could kill you, you know. But instead she said, “If I was you I’d be.”

  “Maybe I would be if I had anything left to lose.”

  “Sucks being a shit-bag, huh?”

  Goose bumps rose on her flesh when wet lips brushed her neck. “You’d make this a whole helluva lot less painful if you’d stop fighting me.” All too suddenly, the body heat vanished and was replaced with a humid, nighttime breeze. “Outside, now,” he said gruffly into her cheek. “We don’t need any witnesses.”

  Her head fell back as she looked up at him. “I forgot to mention I hate bossy assholes.”

  “Duly noted.”

  Right, I’ve got your number as well, Cade. Remember the guy’s a liar, a cop, and all-around bastard. It should be easier to close this chapter on my life, but I was enjoying it so damn much. Chin up, princess. Now, I’m using that damn nickname. Fuck, this.

  When the door slammed shut, Em jerked away. She readjusted the neckline of her top and leaned back into the wall, all in hopes of gaining some much-needed distance. He took the sign as his cue to lean forward, blocking her in a ripped, muscular forearm. His hips rocked into hers, and at the same time he claimed a spot for his legs between her thighs. She needed a breather, and it seemed he had other plans.

  Dirty. Bad. Wrong. He embodied every trait she’d been running from since birth, and now, backed up against a brick wall with his big hands on her, she wanted the hurt. She wanted him to inflict more pain, because then maybe she could rationalize that falling for Cade Jackson didn’t mean she’d turned her back on Wes.

  She schooled her features. “I didn’t expect you to be such a disappointment. But there’s always a rotten apple in the bunch, right?”

  Concern marred his bone-tired face. “Me, either. But being a disappointment seems to be a superior trait I carry. Wouldn’t you say?”

  “Y-you can’t actually be agreeing with me. That’s just crazy. No one folds that easily.”

  The pressure of his hand on her back intensified. “Who said I’m folding, babe. I’m just warming up. It’s the cop in me, you know,” he said on a wink. “I enjoy making people sweat.”

  Squaring her shoulders, she looked up and said, “So how
are we going to do this?” Her throat closed at the cold question she had to ask. “Do I even get a chance to defend myself before you take me out?”

  He didn’t say a word, but just stood there.

  “I want to hate you.” The small voice whispering in a darkened alley could barely be recognized as her own. “So badly, I can’t stand myself.”

  Maybe she deserved the anger and pain searing a hole through her heart. Cade sure seemed to be fine. Hell, she shouldn’t be this torn up inside by a guy she’d only just met. Emotions were such bullshit. Because the man standing in front of her, frowning, had helped her claw her way out of that black hole called guilt that was eating her alive. And hell, she wasn’t ready to give that up…give Cade up.

  A muscle worked in his clenched jaw, tightening the harsh line of his mouth. “ Please don’t say that, princess.” He scrubbed his hand angrily over his mouth. “Shit. This is not how I envisioned us playing out.”

  “It’s fun, right?” She smiled. “Playing the bad guy?”

  Before she registered movement, his hand circled around her neck, and she saw the look again. Good guy, Cade. The shared tortured soul she’d enjoyed spending time with. And the pain intensified, festering like a nasty stomach bug ready to lay her out.

  He hissed through his teeth. “Is that what you think I’ve been doing here, Em? Playing?”

  Maybe. She pressed her mouth at his ear. “You really think I’m dumb, Jackson? Were you just going to screw my brains out, then turn me in?”

  His brows furrowed, the fury slowly catching up with the stab in the back. Then, oh yeah, she saw it hit, and he took a few steps back and punched the wall. “No. No, never dumb.” He spun on her and smoothed some hair away from her face, then touched his mouth to her ear, sucking the lobe between his teeth. “I just think you’re way too damn beautiful, too smart, too much my equal. I couldn’t help but open up to you. It hurts. It makes me forget my honor.” His finger slid across her bottom lip. “And, babe, I’m not sure if that’s such a bad thing. To be that guy craving alone time with you.”