“Yeah, but I’m not talking about a hookup. I’m wanting something more serious.”
Great. She kept her gaze fixed on the shiny chrome of the exhaust. “Like I said, I’ll keep it in mind.”
“Sure.” He shifted closer. “We can talk tonight if you want. I’m happy to go out on some dates. Get to know you. Whatever you like.”
Just for a minute she let herself imagine it: going out, grabbing burgers and maybe a movie. Talking about each other’s lives, connecting. Then going home and…
Sucking him off in the shower?
The thought left her cold. There was no dark little thrill of excitement, no surge of desire. No breathless, insane need to touch him or taste him, and be touched and tasted by him in return. There was nothing. The complete opposite of what she’d felt with Leon.
She straightened, irritated by the thought. Maybe it was all because after Ditch, sex had become something awful, something terrible. She’d let it get to be way too much of a big deal, a hurdle she had to get over. Maybe now that she’d done it with Leon, broken the ice so to speak, it would all be okay again.
Turning, she gave Gator another glance. Yes, he wasn’t bad-looking at all. Hot even, in a certain light, and he really did have a nice smile. He was right. She could do worse.
“Maybe,” she said, giving him a grin. “Let’s see what happens.”
And why not? This thing with Leon was only temporary, and besides, if last night had taught her one thing it was that she didn’t want to be alone anymore. Maybe it was time to explore exactly what her options were.
Gator grinned back, his gaze dropping to her neck and staying there. And she realized with a sudden start that he was looking at the mark Leon had left there. His eyes narrowed, and a little shiver of cold went down her spine. It was all she could do not to put a hand to the mark, touch it, hide it. A move that would only draw more attention to it.
“Quite a bite you got there,” he said slowly, his grin fading. “Insect must have had some big teeth.”
Keep it casual and for fuck’s sake, don’t blush.
She lifted a shoulder, turning back to the bike. “Accident with a wrench.”
“A wrench,” Gator echoed. “Right.”
“Got something to say to me, Gator?” she asked, keeping her voice entirely neutral, her gaze on what she was doing. “ ’Cause we don’t have to talk tonight about anything. We don’t have to talk at all, in fact.”
There was a silence beside her.
Eventually he said, “Nope, I guess not. Just making an observation.”
She didn’t let her relief show. “Do you have any more of these observations you want to share?”
Another silence.
“Nah.” The chains on his belt chimed softly as he shifted on his feet. “Just…you might wanna get a scarf or something in case the other brothers get the wrong idea.”
The cold grip of trepidation loosened a little further. So he wasn’t going to push her. He must really want to take her out in that case.
She picked up the wrench, raising a brow at him. “Do I look like the fucking scarf-wearing type?”
He laughed, and the atmosphere lightened. “Uh, no. I have to say you don’t.”
“Well, then. I’ll take the suggestion under advisement.”
And she would. The only reason she got left alone was because she wasn’t seeing anyone and because Blade had put the word out that no one was to touch her. But all bets would be off if it was discovered that she had a lover. In fact, she’d probably better go back to her apartment and see if she had any makeup that would hide the bruise.
Luckily no one else came into the garage the rest of that morning, and at lunchtime she was able to escape back to her apartment and apply a little concealer to the marks on her neck.
It didn’t help her temper that she wasn’t able to completely hide it, not with her pale skin. The purple showed up faintly beneath the layer of makeup.
She glared at her reflection in the mirror.
Sharing Leon’s bed was going to be a problem. Perhaps it would be better all around if they didn’t sleep together for the moment, just to be on the safe side.
Alternatively, you could just get him not to leave marks.
Her scowl deepened. That was an option, admittedly, but if she was honest with herself, it wasn’t the option she wanted.
You’re looking for excuses.
She turned away from the mirror abruptly. No, she wasn’t. Why would she? Sure, being in Leon’s bed the night before had been intense, but maybe it was the kind of intensity she really didn’t need right now. Playing his old lady for the Deacons while she investigated the Ministry for proof that they were innocent of Priest’s murder was going to take concentration and control. Neither of which she had when Leon touched her.
Which was a pretty major damn problem, especially given his insistence on her sharing his bed.
I went without while I was away from New Orleans.
Ten years he’d been without. What the hell had he been doing out there on the bayou? Whatever it was, she couldn’t blame him for not wanting to go without now. Still, he might just have to suck it up.
It was either that or she risked making a mistake and screwing up her little intel-gathering mission.
A chiming sound came from her phone where she’d left it on the bed.
Coming out of the bathroom, she went over to the plain white cotton-covered bed and saw a text from Leon on the screen. Goddamn asshole. He must have programmed his number into her phone, because his name had popped up as a contact.
Tonight. Priory. 8 p.m. Wear something sexy.
She stared down at the text, debating whether or not telling him to go to hell would work. Probably not. Instead she texted back: I forgot I have a Ministry party. Can’t get out of it. I’ll try to leave early.
Instantly her phone rang.
Alice sighed and hit the accept button. “What?”
“Tell them you’re sick.” Leon’s deep voice was curt.
“It’s not that simple. One of the guys is getting out of jail today. Everyone’s expected to go.”
“Like I said, you’re sick.”
“Leon—”
“I told Ajax you’re mine, so he’s throwing a celebration party at The Priory. You have to be there—no argument.”
Anger rose, familiar and hot, along with the burn of frustration. Because of course she had to be there. It would hardly be convincing if she wasn’t. “And what if word gets back to the Ministry? That I’ve been seen at a Deacons party, wearing a Deacons property patch?”
“Word won’t get back. It’s a closed party. Any fucker says a word, they’ll have to deal with Ajax.”
He wasn’t going to be moved; that was clear.
She raised a hand, rubbing her forehead. “What if someone at the Ministry gets suspicious?”
“Why would they?”
“You…left a mark on my neck. Someone asked me about it today.”
There was a silence on the other end of the line. Then Leon muttered a curse. “You can’t hide it?”
“I’m at home now doing just that. The guy who noticed it…” She stopped, realizing belatedly that perhaps talking about Gator’s interest in her wasn’t the best idea.
“The guy who noticed it what?” There was a distinct edge of menace in Leon’s voice now. “I thought you said you weren’t with anyone.”
Oh, great, this was the last thing she needed—Leon getting all up in her face with jealousy. “And I’m not,” she snapped. “But that doesn’t stop the guys from looking at me, okay? They notice this kind of stuff, especially if they’re interested.”
“So you’re saying you’ve got a guy interested?” The menace grew sharper.
“You could say that, yes.” She probably shouldn’t make the situation worse, but he might as well know. “And actually, now that I think about it, it could be useful. Women don’t get told shit, so I’m going to need some way of getting in
formation.”
Another curse came down the line. “You’re not fucking sleeping with him.”
She gritted her teeth. “Did I say I was going to?”
“Just giving you a warning.”
“I’m not sleeping with you, either.”
The silence this time was deafening.
Shit. She probably should have saved that little bombshell until they were face to face.
“I’ll remind you of what you agreed to tonight,” Leon said flatly. “Text me if you run into any problems with Blade.”
Then he ended the call before she could say a word.
Chapter 6
The music was loud, rattling the glass of The Priory, advertising the presence of a major party to the crowded sidewalks outside. Plenty of people had gathered at the doors, tourists and locals alike, wanting to see what was going on inside, wanting in. But the bouncers Ajax had hired had no problems keeping back the throngs.
Blue watched them idly from his table near the packed bar. One of the bouncers picked up a drunken tourist by the seat of his pants and basically threw him into the crowd beyond, remaining impassive while both cheers and loud protests broke out. These guys were mean-ass motherfuckers, no mistake. Probably from Ajax’s mercenary days.
He leaned back in his chair, taking in the rest of the party and feeling pretty damn satisfied about it.
The Priory was packed. Ajax had called back some of the older brothers from wherever the hell they’d gone after Katrina, and they were here to honor the first Deacons party in years. Rigger in his wheelchair; Jez, making a special visit from his home on the bayou; and even TC had turned up for the show. There were also a lot of other people here, people who were considered club family and had been welcomed back by Ajax. Not to mention a whole lot of younger guys all interested in knowing more about the Deacons and maybe looking to become prospects. And then there was a healthy number of women dressed in nothing much who were interested too, though their interest clearly lay in screwing Deacons and their hang-arounds.
One of them, a blonde in a tiny strapless dress that barely covered her thighs, had been sending Blue suggestive glances all evening. She was pretty enough and her body was the stuff of wet dreams, but he found himself completely uninterested. Not when he was looking for copper hair, milky pale skin, and eyes the color of the sky on a fresh summer morning. And enough attitude to make a brother think twice about crossing her.
Desire shifted inside him at the thought, a hungry beast ready to be fed. Christ, she’d been all fire the night before. Giving him as good as she got, and then some. Yet there had been a bit of vulnerability, too, as she’d knelt at his feet in the shower, uncertainty in her eyes.
I’ve only done this once.
Once. In ten years. Why? What had held her back? Had she just not found anyone special or…what?
The blonde by the bar smiled at him, but Blue shook his head. She pouted, tossing her hair as she turned her sights elsewhere. He grinned to himself as her gaze fixated on the dark-haired man holding up the wall on the opposite side of the room, a beer in his hand. The fourth Deacon. Prince. He was glowering at the scene in front of him, obviously not all that thrilled to be here. Which made it interesting that he was. Good to see he had enough loyalty left for the Deacons to come when Ajax called, even if he’d wanted nothing to do with investigating Priest’s death. Then again, the fucker had always appreciated a good party.
The crowd near the doors suddenly shifted as one of the bouncers stood aside to admit someone, and Blue found himself staring at the woman who walked into the bar. She was all in black. Black leather pants that molded to the delicious, rounded curves of her hips and thighs and a tight, black tank top, the cotton stretching over her breasts in a way clearly designed to drive a man mad. Her long, russet hair fell over her shoulders, glowing in the light like live embers. She had her shoulders back, her hands shoved in her pockets, attitude in every line of her, from her heavy, black biker boots to the jut of her determined jaw.
Just about every man in the place turned to look at her as she stood there, and no wonder. All of the other women present wore tiny skirts or little dresses, sky-high heels, and plunging necklines. But not Alice. In her simple black outfit, showing hardly any skin, she radiated a tough, sexy vibe that drew the eye like a naked flame draws a moth.
Mine.
Yeah, she fucking was. Any other guy laid a finger on her and he was going to lose that finger. Blue would make sure of it.
Alice slowly scanned the room, standing there like she owned the place, clearly looking for him. He waited, glancing over at the bar again. Ajax was there, one arm wrapped around Sophie while he stared at Alice, the look in his cold blue eyes measuring.
And no wonder. The tank she was wearing revealed the Ministry tattoo, her allegiance as loud as a shout.
Blue was on his feet almost before the thought had fully crystallized in his brain, stalking toward her to stake his claim in front of the crowd before some other dude spotted her tattoo and decided to take action.
Her gaze found his immediately and her posture stiffened, her chin coming up.
Oh yeah, attitude all right.
A heavy, dark excitement began to burn in his blood, gripping him tighter the closer to her he got. It had been hours since he’d had her. Hours and fucking hours. He wanted her again, right now even. He’d strip her completely except for the vest with his property patch on it. Turn her around and fuck her from behind, so he could see the words on her back.
Deacons of Bourbon St MC. Property of Blue.
The thought was such a damn turn-on he was starting to get hard. Christ, it was strange to get so possessive of a woman, when he’d never done so before. Then again, Alice had never been like any other woman. She was his friend. She was different.
He stopped right in front of her, meeting her gaze, conscious that the others were looking at them—Ajax and Prince, and Travis sitting with Billie at the back of the bar. Several others were looking too, giving curious glances to see what was happening.
“Any problems leaving the Ministry party?” he asked.
“Actually, I thought I’d come here first. They won’t mind if I’m late, and besides…” Her blue eyes flickered. “I said I’d meet up with someone there.”
Instantly he wanted to know who and why, every territorial instinct he had on high alert. “What someone?”
She glanced around the bar. “Can we not talk about this here?”
“What someone?” he repeated. If she thought she could get away with not telling him, she was shit out of luck.
“Oh Christ,” she muttered. “I knew this was going to be a bad idea.”
“You going to put on his patch or what?” Ajax’s voice was hard and cold, cutting right through the noise of the bar like a steel blade slicing through silk. “Because if you’re not, you can fuck right off again. I’ll even give you five minutes to get as far from here as you can before I come after you.”
A small area of silence rippled outward.
Blue watched Alice’s face. This wouldn’t be easy for her, especially as more and more people were starting to turn and look at her, staring at the Ministry tattoo on her arm. Last time she was in here, it had been covered. Not so much now.
Holy hell, she had balls. He had to admire them.
Alice glanced at Ajax, her shoulders back, her chin lifted, a fuck-you look on her face. “Hey, Ajax,” she said casually. “Long time, no see.”
“Red,” Ajax replied, his tone just as casual, though the look on his face was anything but. “Got a lot of nerve coming in here with that on your arm. Not sure what Pete would have to say about that.”
Any other person with a brain in their head would be quaking in their boots at the cold glitter in Ajax’s eyes. But Alice only shrugged. “I’ve had this discussion with Leon already. We’re good, okay?”
“You and Leon might be good,” Ajax said quietly, “but I’m not. In fact I’m very much not good. Be
cause as far as I’m concerned, you’re a traitor, Red.”
The rest of the bar had quieted, all of them watching what was playing out in the middle of the room.
Blue debated whether or not to step in and tell Ajax to back the fuck off. But he knew that would only make the situation worse. Besides, it would be good for Alice to see how serious this was, that Ajax meant business. That she couldn’t afford to fuck around with a man like him.
Alice had paled, but she didn’t look away from Ajax. “I had my reasons.”
“I don’t give a shit what your reasons were. The only reason you’re here and not out on your ass and running is because Blue vouched for you. Understand?”
She didn’t speak, only gave a sharp nod.
Ajax didn’t look one bit mollified. “He apparently trusts you, but I don’t. In fact, you break my trust, you don’t get a second chance.” Ajax paused, the silence around the bar deafening. “But I’m going to give you one and not because I’m a generous motherfucker, but because Blue’s a brother, straight and true.” He didn’t move from his place at the bar, the atmosphere in the room thick with tension. “You want in on the Deacons now, Red, you’re going to have to give me reason to trust you again and believe me, I’m not going to give it easy a second time.”
Alice stared back at him, face pale, back rigid. Not looking away.
She’d never been one to back away from a fight, that was for damn sure, and as irritating as that could be, in this moment, Blue felt a glow of pride at her courage. Standing up to Ajax was never easy for a brother, let alone someone else.
“Until you show me I can trust you,” Ajax went on, his voice still flat and hard, “I don’t want to see you in Deacons territory without Blue’s patch on your back. Are we clear?”
“Yes.” Her tone was just as flat and hard as Ajax’s. “We’re clear.” She turned her head, flicking Blue a glance before she moved suddenly, going over to the table where he’d been sitting and picking up the vest he’d bought and had modified earlier that day. It was made out of soft, black leather, the patch on the back embroidered in red.
Hold Me Down (The Deacons of Bourbon Street #3) Page 8
