by Wynne Roman
More laughter lightens the mood, and Joker’s smiling when he looks at me. Even so, there’s an edge to his tone when he speaks. “You claimed her.”
“What?” I ask, but only because I wasn’t expecting the remark.
“You went after those fuckers and claimed her in front of witnesses. Claimed her business, too.”
Well, fuck. I close my eyes in a slow blink. “Yeah. Yeah, I did.”
“You sticking by it?”
That pisses me off. “I don’t give my word if I don’t mean it.”
Joker nods. I can feel the interest of the others around us, but I can’t look anywhere but at my prez. He stares back.
“That means Hell’s Creed claims them, too.”
Yeah, it fucking does.
“She got enough of a business left to bid the job that started this fuckin’ mess?” demands Nyet.
“I don’t know.” I’ll never tell my brothers anything but the absolute truth. “She’s over there now, cleaning shit up.”
“She alone?” asks Bear.
“No. Keg and the new prospect went with her.”
Joker nods. “Told her we’d vote on letting her bid. We can do that right this fucking second, but it don’t matter either way. You claiming her the way you did attached her and her business to the club. Anything happens now, it reflects on us.”
He’s right. I knew it the second it was too late, when the words were already out of my mouth. Should have done something about it right away, but I let the importance of it slip past me in the chaos of everything else.
I also should have known Joker and Nyet were too fucking smart for that.
“Well, fuck,” I mutter, more to myself than for any other reason.
“What?” demands Nyet, his voice a harsh crack. “You think her company isn’t a good risk?”
I grunt. “I’m not worried about that. I’m thinking about telling Ainsley that the club’s gonna step in and help her.”
Nyet snorts, and then he’s laughing his ass off. So is everyone else.
“That chick ain’t gonna want anybody’s help,” Bear hoots, and no way can I argue.
“She sure as hell ain’t gonna turn it over to us,” agrees Joker.
I stiffen. “You thinking about that?”
He lifts a shoulder. “Wouldn’t hurt to have another legit business. Think she’d take us on as partners?”
I shake my head warily. “No fucking clue. Don’t even want to think about asking her.”
“C’mon, pussy,” laughs Shiner with a grin.
“You got some charms, brother,” says Bear. “Break it to her real nice.”
“In bed,” adds Tex.
“Fuck off,” I snap. “This business means something to Ainsley. Her father’s legacy or some shit. Look what she went through to fucking prove herself to us, that she’s worthy of just bidding our fucking project. Now you want me to try to fuck it out of her?” The more I talk, the more pissed I get.
“Cool it.” Joker holds up a hand. “This is getting us nowhere, especially when we don’t have enough information to decide.”
“Agreed,” says Nyet.
“Then let’s keep it simple. We vote on adding her to the bidder’s list for the project we got lined up. Gonna table the rest of it until we know more.”
With a murmur of agreement, Joker takes up the vote. Shocks the shit out of me when it’s unanimous.
“Carried.” Joker pounds his gavel on the table. “Burton Construction gets to bid.”
Eleven
AINSLEY
I sit cross-legged on the floor of my office, surrounded by chaos. At least, that’s how it feels to me. Papers are strewn all around me, file folders are torn and mangled, and the contents of the drawers from my desk — my father’s desk — are thrown everywhere.
I sigh. It will take me days to get this mess straightened up, but it has to be done — and I’m the one who has to do it. If I want to have any chance of salvaging my father’s business, I need everything orderly and in good condition.
I can take care of the office itself well enough, but I know I’ll need help restoring the workshop to good working condition. I may even need to call in one of our suppliers to help identify any missing tools or equipment that is damaged beyond repair.
Another resigned sigh slips past my better judgment. The good news is that this one sounds more weary than self-pitying. I reach for another spread of dog-eared papers and start to flip through them. At this point, I’m merely separating them by subject; more detailed organization will have to come later. Knowing that makes me want to sigh again, but I swallow it back.
Something soft and moist suddenly presses against the back of my neck, and I jerk myself around. “Argh!” The sound comes on its own, torn from me. Were those lips?
“You okay, sweet thing?”
My heart is hammering painfully in my chest. I gasp, searching for a deep, calming breath that seems too damn slow in coming.
I glare at Talon. “You scared me!”
“Sorry.” He looks more amused than apologetic. “Thought you heard me come in.”
“No.” I give my head a good shake, still scowling. “I was all caught up in this.” I gesture around me.
He nods once, kneels next to me, takes the sheaf of papers from my hands, and drops them to the floor. “You doing okay with it?”
I refuse to let myself sigh again, so I merely answer. “Yeah. Sort of.”
Talon doesn’t hide his skepticism, and I can’t help it. I let loose a small laugh.
“Okay, not really,” I admit with a quick shake of my head. “But I will be. It’s just a little overwhelming right now.”
“You got a plan?”
“Not yet,” I concede. “But I will. Just need to get some of this in order —” I sweep my hand out to indicate the room “— and figure where I stand. After that . . .” The sigh gets the better of me this time.
“After that, what?”
“Then it’s the workshop.”
“You gonna need help for that?”
“Probably. I might ask Jack or Kyle. Thought about checking in with the supplier Dad used to work with.”
“Good idea.” Talon takes my hand, links our fingers, pulls me close to his side. “I’ll help. Maybe Bear and Crow, too.”
I blink, stare for a second at our joined hands, and then look up to probe Talon’s expression curiously. “I . . . well, thanks, but why would you do that?”
“Why wouldn’t I? You’re my woman.” His eyes go heavy lidded, like he’s thinking about more — such as all the things that being his woman might mean. Most of them sexual, I’m sure.
My nipples go tight, my core dampens, and I realize I’m thinking the same damn things. His woman, my man, us coming together in explosive passion that drains us both. My fingers tighten around his, giving away the depth of my reaction to him and his claim.
Don’t be an idiot, a sharp voice of reason announces suddenly. All he has to do is look at the expression on your freaking face or check out your peaked nipples, and he knows damn well what you’re thinking.
I know it’s true when he drags a slow, lazy gaze over me and grins. He doesn’t take me up on my unspoken offer, however.
“Besides,” he adds a second later, “we have a vested interest in getting you back on your feet.”
I frown as the words echo in my head. We have a vested interest in getting you back on your feet.
“We?” I repeat slowly. “Who the hell are we? And what kind of vested interest?”
His grin is equal parts generous and naughty. “Club voted to add Burton Construction to our bidder’s list.”
I stare at Talon’s handsome face, the long messy hair and the twinkle that dances in his chocolate-colored eyes. His smile teases me with wicked satisfaction.
“You —” The word dies before I can say anything more. I clear my throat and try again. “You mean it?”
“I do.” He leans forward until his mouth to
uches mine lightly. “It was unanimous, sweet thing.”
I search for some kind of breath to clear my head. The one I take goes deep enough to fill my lungs to bursting. My chest heaves, and Talon’s gaze goes immediately to my breasts. I choke and find myself laughing at his very predictable reaction.
“Unanimous?” I repeat, almost overwhelmed by the idea.
“Yep.” He drops a quick, hard kiss on my lips, then another, but when he pulls back, his expression has settled into something more on the serious side. “It isn’t a guarantee of anything, baby, just the chance to bid with the others.”
I lean forward, give him my own rough kiss, and laugh again. “I don’t give a damn! It’s a chance, Talon, and that’s all I ever wanted. Just the chance.”
TALON
The chance. The excitement makes her voice rough and squeaky at the same time. My girl — my woman — is getting exactly what she wished for.
It may not be everything, but it’s the most we could do.
“Then you got it, sweet thing. H.C. Enterprises is inviting you to play with us.”
She snorts as she wrinkles her nose. “You make it sound like you’re summoning me to an orgy.”
I laugh, but a sharp “Fuck no!” whips out of me at the same time. “None of those fuckers are ever getting a chance to touch you.”
Her smile is sweet, even affectionate. I like it.
“I can’t believe it. Finally. But . . .” She pauses for a second. “Are you sure? No conditions?”
I hesitate, undecided about the best way to explain things to her. I never falter when I need to be an asshole, but my girl has been through a lot. Don’t really have an interest in making things worse than they already are.
“Talon?”
“No.” I shake my head. “No conditions. Not like you’re thinking, but I need to know. Can you do it, sweet thing?”
Her gaze flickers around the room, like she doesn’t want to meet mine. I understand, but I can’t allow it.
“Ainsley?”
“I don’t know.”
Finally, she looks at me with her answer. I don’t miss the awkward uneasiness she tries to disguise, but I ignore it and maintain the eye contact without judgment. That isn’t the point here.
“We — the club — will help you out if you need it.”
Or will allow it. I don’t say those last words, but I know she hears them echo between us. I can tell when she can’t completely disguise the small flinch of her shoulders.
“Help me how?”
“However you need.” I shrug negligently, mostly because I think that will reassure her of our intensions. “Advice, manpower, even a low-interest loan.”
“A loan?” She jerks back. “What . . . ? Why . . . ?” The questions don’t seem to want to form.
Been kneeling next to her long enough, and this conversation needs a different position. I sit, resting my back against the front of the desk, and drag Ainsley with me. She comes willingly enough, even takes a place on my lap, straddling my hips so she can face me. That’s good, because I know her, and I fully expect her reaction to my explanation.
“Your affiliation with the MC means what you do reflects on us. We —”
“Wait! What?” She throws her head back and narrows those beautiful baby blues. “How am I affiliated with Hell’s Creed?”
I give her that same innocent shrug. “I claimed you. Claimed responsibility for you and the business. That means —”
“Responsibility for the business? What the fuck does that mean?”
I harden my gaze and my tone of voice. “Stop interrupting me, and I’ll tell you what you need to know.”
“I . . .” Her cheeks flush pink, and she glances away. “Sorry. I get a little carried away when I’m emotional.”
I acknowledge her apology with a brief nod and continue. “As I was saying, you’re affiliated with us now, and that makes us responsible. Doesn’t mean we’re takin’ over or anything, just that what you do reflects on us.”
“Is that why they agreed —”
“No.” I know goddamn well where she’s going with that, and it’s not worth the argument. “The vote was totally about your work at the clubhouse. This is separate. Told you. And just because you’re added to the bidder’s list doesn’t mean you’ll get the job.”
She nods slowly and stays calm enough; as a businesswoman, I can tell she gets what I said. I give her a steady look and say the rest.
“That said, you deserve to know that Joker does have an interest in your business.”
“What kind of interest?”
“Partners. Maybe even buy you out someday.”
“He wants my company?” The explosion comes as expected.
“Settle, baby.” I sharpen my voice to a fine edge and tighten my grip on her hipbones. “Not like you think, and nobody’s gonna take shit from you. I told you so you know the whole truth. It’s nothing more than something for you to consider in the future. Right now, we’ll help you get back on your feet so you can put together a reasonable bid for us. That’s it.”
“But —”
“That’s it.” I keep my tone hard. “You either trust me, baby, or you don’t.”
I can practically see the thoughts rolling through her mind. Her face reveals so much, it’s like watching a damn movie. I know the instant she realizes we kept our word to her in everything we promised. The moment she remembers the way my brothers got between her and trouble. When she realizes the friendships she’s made, and then, finally, when she acknowledges the biggest truth of all.
I would never lie to her.
“Talon.” She leans in, brushes her lips over mine again and again. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I do trust you. I . . .”
“You what?”
“I don’t know what’s crazier. The way I feel or that I’m telling you this, but . . . well, I think I’m falling in love with you.”
I stare at her. “You think?”
She takes a breath, shakes her head. “No. I know it. And I’m afraid it’s too late. I’m probably already in love with you.”
“Good thing you’re my kind of crazy, then.” I grin as I take her mouth with mine. “I think I’m falling in love with you, too.”
This isn’t one of those easy, tender kisses like you see in the movies when the couple declares their love for each other. This is my tongue surging forward, parting her lips, going deep. Ainsley’s low groan tells me it’s exactly what she needs.
I go up on my knees and lean forward until she’s bent back far enough that she’s spread out on the floor. Don’t give a fuck about all the papers or files or office supplies that are in the way. Just need to get her beneath me, to fill her with my aching cock, and make her mine in a whole new way.
A way that includes the words, even tentative as they are.
I think I’m falling in love with you.
Fuck. We both know it’s more; we’re both just too goddamn scared to admit it.
I drag my mouth down over her cheek, her jaw, lick her throat, and nip at the place where her pulse beats. I know she likes what I’m doing when she shoves her hands into my hair, and I feel her nipples pebble against my chest.
“Talon,” she pants. “The others.”
“What?” I’m busy unfastening the buttons of her shirt.
“Keg and —”
“Sent ‘em away when I got here.”
“You did?”
“Fuck, yeah.”
It’s like I said the magic fucking words or something, because suddenly her hands tear at my waistband, opening my jeans and pulling my cock free. She curls her fingers around my hard length, fondles me up and down, and then she’s cupping my balls in a gentle massage.
“I want you in my mouth,” she mutters against my lips, pushing her tongue forward like she’s imitating what she wants to do to me.
“Oh, no, baby.” I flex my hips. “Not this time. I wanna come way too bad for that.”
I subdue her with
another deep, hard kiss, then rear back to take care of more immediate business. Her pants are off, the condom is on, and I’m lined up to push inside her.
“Fuck, I need to be inside you.”
“Yes.”
Her hips surge up as I push forward, and then I’m home. Buried deep inside her where I’ve needed to be my whole life. Her groan of welcome tells me she recognizes the connection just the same.
“I didn’t know,” she moans as I stroke in and out of her.
“Didn’t know what?” How can I think well enough to ask the question.
“How it would feel to be with the man I love. To be with . . .” She loses the words on a gasp, as the walls of her pussy tighten around me. She sighs. “To be with you.” Gamely, she tries again.
“I know, baby. I know.” Really, I have no other words.
And then I lose the rest of my senses to this thing between us. Her arms around me and mine around her. Her body cradling mine. Her soft femininity welcoming my hard masculinity.
I’m moving without thought, with only a small hold on consciousness — and then it all disappears as we splinter apart and are reborn together.
Epilogue
AINSLEY
Tonight, I want to get drunk. Maybe even shit-faced. I’m safe sitting at the bar in the Hell’s Creed clubhouse. If I get too far over the limit, I can sleep it off in Talon’s bed. I’ve been there almost as much as I’ve been home over the past couple of months.
Sighing, I close my eyes. Dammit all. I didn’t get the project. H.C. Enterprises awarded the contract to somebody else.
“Hey, Ainsley.” Keg approaches me with a smile. As a prospect, he doesn’t know much of what goes on with the club. I assume that includes H.C. Enterprises business, as well.
A weak, rueful smile is all I have to offer.
“You want your usual?” he asks.
“Yep.” I give an emphatic nod.
Keg walks away to get my beer and shot of Patrón, and I sit quietly, replaying the results of today’s contract award. If I’m honest with myself, I’m not surprised. I’ve always known the final decision would be Joker’s, and as much as I hate to admit it, I’m certain he made the right move.
