by Marie James
The three guys sitting at our table get up and move without a word as we approach. We aren’t bullies, at least I don’t think the guys were before I came along, but the townies seem to scatter when we arrive. They know we prefer these tables back here and shuffle around quickly to get out of our way.
The guys nod at them as they stand and tell them thanks.
“Impressive,” Bishop whispers so close I feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek.
Eight months ago, before I got out of the Corps, his nearness wouldn’t bother me, but so many things have changed. Bahrain happened, and Cannon happened. Two totally different things that make me want to put a little literal space between my best friend and me.
We end up sitting side by side because it would be weird for him to be here to visit and us not interact casually. There was nothing casual about the way he hugged me at the airport or the way he buried his nose in my neck and breathed me in. He looked down on me like I slapped him when I pressed my hands against his chest and took a step back. At the time, I wondered if he could smell Cannon on my skin.
“Ladies,” Grinch teases as he walks back with a tray of beer bottles and a row of shots.
“Tequila?” I ask as I lift a shot glass to my nose.
“Yeah,” Grinch answers. “Bishop told me how much you like it.”
My blood runs cold, and when I glance over at my friend, he simply winks at me.
The last time we drank tequila together he ended up inside of me. From the hopeful expression in his eyes as he lifts his own shot glass to his lips, he wouldn’t be opposed to it happening again. Then he winks at me, confirming that is exactly how he hopes his night is going to end. He’s mistaken.
I know where I’ll be tonight. I know who will be holding me and if I’m lucky, making me moan and shake.
I throw back my shot and drop the empty glass on the tray, making sure to keep my eyes off of him. Scanning the room doesn’t have the same pull that the bar has, and before long, my eyes sweep the long counter on the opposite side of the building.
Jesus, how does the man look better standing in a t-shirt and jeans than he did climbing out of my bed naked this morning.
Okay, so he doesn’t look better. It’s a different look, a different effect he has on me with the way his shirt stretches across his muscled biceps.
The look in his eyes when he catches me staring is however similar to the way he looked at me this morning. Only right now, considering we’re in the middle of a crowded bar, he can’t do that thing with his tongue that I’m obsessed with.
Reluctantly, I pull my eyes from him as he takes another order from a pair of women who are making it clear they have high hopes of landing on top of him tonight. He proved last night he doesn’t want anyone but me. He did that while we were alone in my room, but he also didn’t flirt with women like crazy when I was at the bar with him.
I’m only feeling a mild sense of jealousy right now, and it has more to do with them being closer than me. I trust him, and I’m not worried about other women.
The guys laugh, pulling my eyes back to our table. Bishop is regaling them with stories, and they’re all sponges for the change of pace. They’ve all heard and shared all of their own stories with the team, so fresh ones are highly sought after.
Bishop tells the story about the goat, and even though all the guys belt out laughter, I can’t help but roll my eyes. The story gets more ridiculous each time I hear him tell it.
“What?” my friend says with a wide smile and a quick nudge to my shoulder.
“That is not what happened.”
He grins even wider and shrugs. “Close enough.”
This makes the guys laugh even harder. We’re all expert bullshitters. It’s a Marine requirement.
As the night goes on, and Bishop drinks like he hasn’t been exposed to alcohol in years, he gets closer, to the point that his thigh is pressed against mine and his arm is around the back of my chair.
He doesn’t seem very happy when I pull away when his finger trails up the side of my arm while he carries on with the guys. Thankfully, Jinx is talking about something he almost got arrested for and all the attention is on him. It means none of them see my discomfort or the way I move away from him.
Even drunk he notices, but much to my surprise, he doesn’t open his mouth to bitch about it. Bishop never has a problem speaking his mind, and it’s even worse when he’s drunk.
We settle back in, talking more about Cerberus and how it works without giving too much away. Bishop is my closest friend, but he’s still not a member of the team, and that means there’s a lot we can’t say.
Before long, I grow too comfortable and his hand is right back where it was, tracing circles on my arm. The action is natural for him, an absent-minded touch, one I never had a problem with until he made his intentions clear in Bahrain. I begin to move away and lift my eyes to the bar once again.
Cannon is looking over at us, but instead of fire and anger filling his eyes, he simply raises an eyebrow as if to say, really?
I lean forward again, but this time Bishop doesn’t pull his hand back. Thankfully, it doesn’t track me nor remain in contact with my skin.
“You got a little crush on the bartender or something?”
I freeze. It’s not the question that bothers me but the fact that he can’t control the volume of his voice sober. Since it’s an impossibility when he’s drunk, he just all but yelled the question even though we’re less than a foot from each other.
All the chatter at the table halts, and I know all the guys are staring at the two of us after realizing the bartender in question is Cannon.
“No,” I say, and it really isn’t a lie. Crushing doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel about the man slinging drinks behind the bar.
Like a shit-stirring asshole, Cannon winks at me when every guy at the table stares at him.
“Really?” Jinx asks, and I can tell by the tone of his drunken voice that the shit is about to hit the fan in an epic way. “Because I caught him sneaking out of your room this morning.”
If there was ever a time for a record player to screech to a halt, this would be it.
Rocker covers a laugh behind his hand with a cough, and when I turn my head to assess the damage, I find Grinch looking at me with pure shock in his eyes.
“Really?” Bishop snaps like he has a right. “That kid?”
“He isn’t a kid,” I mutter, sweeping my eyes back to the bar only to find Cannon on the end I can’t see from this vantage point.
“Not a kid?” Bishop laughs incredulously. “He’s wearing a shirt that says MAY I SUGGEST THE SAUSAGE with an arrow pointing at his dick.”
I can’t help the smile on my face. His shirts are ridiculous. “The shirts are funny.”
“He’s Shadow’s son,” Jinx supplies helpfully, and I put him on my shitlist immediately.
“The boss’s boy?” Bishop leans back like I’ve burned him. “Fuck, Rivet.”
I shrug. I mean what else can I do? I’m not going to deny my time with him even if I’m not willing to go into details about a situation that isn’t any of his damn business.
Rocker laughs again, but before long a few new girls from town catch their eye from the dance floor and Bishop is the only one left with his attention on me.
“Really?” Bishops says again, apparently still stuck on the news about Cannon.
“It’s new,” I finally offer, but that’s all that he’s going to get from me.
“I never took you for the type of chick to climb the ladder on your back.”
I. See. Red.
I’m certain I could breathe fire right now with how pissed I am.
If we weren’t in public, I’d pop him in his damn nose, but since my best friend of years just said something I never would’ve imagined he’d utter, I don’t know how he’d react to that type of violence. Do I even know this guy anymore?
Without a word, I place my beer bottle on the table and sta
nd, walking away from him, and at this point not sure I ever want to speak with him again.
My hands are trembling, and tears of anger burn my eyes, but I refuse to lose my shit in this damn bar. I focus on the door and arrow myself in that direction. Bishop must sense how pissed I am because he doesn’t bother to come after me.
“Hey.” I spin around, ready to burn down the world when someone grabs my arm.
Instead of some idiot getting fresh and hoping for a good time, I see Cannon peering down at me. My adrenaline is running to the max, and I’m too pissed to speak, but he touches me again when I turn back toward the door.
“Rivet,” he breathes.
“I’m leaving,” I tell him once we step outside of the bar.
It’s hotter inside with everyone talking and having a good time, so the cool evening air feels amazing on my skin even though it does nothing to stop the fire raging inside of me right now.
“Did you even drive?”
That question stops me in my tracks.
“Fuck,” I mumble. “No. I rode with the guys.”
“Hey.” He turns me around, his big hand cupping my jaw, and somehow, someway, that simple touch does more to calm me down than five rounds in the ring with Bishop would. “Are you alright? What did he say to piss you off?”
“It doesn’t matter.” I shake my head, refusing to answer. I’ll tell him later if he asks again, but now isn’t the time for that shit.
His eyes search mine but he drops it.
When I blink up at him again, he lowers his mouth to mine. The kiss isn’t passionate or remotely sexual, but it somehow sinks inside of me, calming my soul with so many promises, and it’s then that I realize I’m so fucked where he’s concerned. Thank fuck he didn’t walk out on me last night. I don’t know that my heart would’ve been able to handle it.
“Take my truck,” he offers against my mouth. “I can catch a ride home after my shift.”
I take the proffered keys when he steps away and holds them out, but before I can turn to leave, he pulls me against his chest again.
“How much did you drink?”
I grin up at him for his concern. It’s been a long time since someone checked in with me, and even though the question has the potential to piss me off, I know he isn’t going to let me go until he’s satisfied with my answer.
“One shot and half a beer.”
His thumb skates over my lower lip. “Ok, baby. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
He presses his lips to mine one more time. I can feel his eyes on me until I climb in his truck and leave.
Baby.
Why do I love it so much when he calls me that? He said it the first night we met, but since then he doesn’t even say it with the same connotation as he did that night. The same word spoken now means so much more, has so much power behind it. I almost forget how big of an asshole my best friend is by the time I get back to the empty clubhouse.
Chapter 36
Cannon
It seems like a million years have passed since I sent Rivet off in my truck, and now that I’m back at the clubhouse, I’m anxious to see her.
Bishop said or did something to piss her off, and I know it had to be about me. There was no mistaking the way he touched her like he owned her. Just like there was no way I was going to let it happen without responding. I’m not an asshole. I’m not the guy that rushes to his woman’s side at the first sign of threat from another man. Not only do I trust her more than that but getting angry and flexing up on Bishop wasn’t going to be the right response. So I winked, and I know everyone, including her douche of a best friend saw me do it.
The guys are used to my antics, used to me flirting relentlessly with women at the bar, but I’ve toned that shit down recently with Rivet. She didn’t seem to want anyone to know about us, and since that didn’t diminish what we have, I didn’t have a problem with it. But not reacting to his fingers on her was impossible.
I know what I’m going to find before I open the front door of the clubhouse. The guys are so loud, their laughs and ribbing of each other meet me on the front steps. My only concern is how I’m going to get Rivet away from the group and to her room so we can talk about what went down tonight at the bar. I can always go straight to her room and wait for her, but these guys are perceptive. The second she stands to follow me, even if it’s several hours later, they’re going to know.
I could go to my house but sleeping alone in my own bed doesn’t appeal to me at all.
I straighten my spine and walk through the front door. The laughing and joking doesn’t stop, and it doesn’t surprise me. Every one of these guys is drunk by now, most of them having felt a decent buzz by the time they left Jake’s an hour ago. This may work in my favor.
Not only are the Cerberus guys in the living room, but Lawson and Griffin are also there with their girls by their sides.
I raise an eyebrow as I approach. “Why did you guys even move out if you’re always going to be here?”
I’m waiting for an answer but a steady thump draws my attention. My eyes light up when I look down and see Raider.
“Hey, buddy!” I exclaim as I drop to my knees in front of Lawson’s dog. “What are you doing here?”
He laps at my hand but doesn’t release the stuffed monkey pinned beneath his huge paws.
“Drew started the police academy,” Lawson explains. “It was time to bring him home.”
Raider always stayed with Drew when Lawson and Delilah came home to visit, and he’s been with his younger brother until they got settled back here in Farmington.
I press my lips to the top of Raider’s head and scratch under his chin.
“Finally old enough, huh?”
Lawson is grinning when I look up at him. “Yep. He’ll graduate the academy shortly after his twenty-first birthday.”
I laugh, just remembering that Drew and I aren’t too far apart in age. I saw the guy at Delilah’s graduation, and he’s nothing like the young kid that came rocking up to the clubhouse with Lawson all those years ago looking for Snatch. We were all surprised when we found out that Snatch had a long-lost son older than most of us.
“Glad he’s home, dude.” I clap Lawson’s hand before doing the same with my brother.
They both growl at me when I lean over and press my lips to Delilah and Ivy’s temple.
“Get your own,” my brother snaps, but there’s no real anger in his voice.
I look around the room, finding it absent of Rivet before looking back at them. “That’s the plan.”
I leave them wondering as I walk away and head down the hallway.
I don’t even bother knocking on Rivet’s door before entering, but the sight of her naked thigh wrapped up and over her bedsheet makes me clamp my jaw shut. She should’ve at least locked the damn door if she was going to sleep naked, especially with her horny friend visiting.
I wouldn’t put it past that dick to walk in here drunk and expect a repeat of something he’s never ever going to get again.
I lock the door and think about spanking her ass for forgetting as I strip to my skin, but when I climb under the covers and feel the warmth of her body, all is forgotten but her.
“Mmm,” she purrs, soft and sweet. I only get this side of her when she’s tired, and I have to say I love this time in the darkness we get to share. “You smell like a dog.”
I cough a laugh and climb out of the bed. After grabbing the fastest shower in the world, I rejoin her, smiling against her neck when she wiggles back against me.
“Better?” I whisper with my lips pressed against her warm skin.
“Mmhmm.”
See? Soft and sweet, and for the most part out of character for her.
She’s nearly naked, a small scrap of lace covering her pussy the only clothing she’s wearing, and even that makes me smile. She’s a rough and tumble Marine, but she’s always wearing lacy panties and matching bras. It fucking gets me hard every single time. Just like I am right now, but
it’s clear she’s sleepy, and there’s always time for that sort of thing.
So, I keep my mouth pressed to her skin, breathing in her alluring scent and fall asleep.
***
Sex dreams are common for men. I’ve had numerous conversations with guys from school and even with the guys around here. They don’t seem to wain with age either.
But how many of them can say they had a sex dream and woke up with their cock being sucked off by their girl?
I don’t know if the dream started before her or because of her, but I’m in no position to argue semantics right now.
I groan as I open my eyes to the sight of Rivet’s mouth wrapped around me, and she hums her response, the vibrations traveling through my nuts until it makes my stomach bottom out.
“Good morning to you too, baby.”
I brush her hair away from her face and smile down at her. She winks up at me but never stops moving her mouth. Fuck, she’s amazing.
“Jesus,” I grunt. “You’re making me come.”
I barely get the words out before my cock jerks in her mouth. My back arches, my head thrown back as she milks me dry.
“That’s the best fucking wake-up I’ve ever gotten,” I praise when I’m finally able to form words as she straddles me and climbs up my chest. “What did I do to deserv—”
My words are smothered when, without warning, she pulls her panties to the side and settles her perfect pussy against my mouth. I fucking love it when she asserts a little power, and if I hadn’t just come down her throat, my cock would be standing at attention.
“Enough talking,” she says, but the last syllable comes out on a hiss when I lean in and devour her like I’m starving.
I guess, in a way, I am. I want her every second of the day, but spending the night smelling her and feeling her rub against me was the perfect kind of torture, and clearly, the last however many hours served as prolonged foreplay because she’s as close to the edge after a few swipes as I was when I woke up.
