Jester

by Lilly Atlas

  Oh God. Snake would hurt them. He was a sadistic sociopath, of course he would use the information for some sort of retaliation. Emily would be responsible for whatever happened to these people who made her smile, made her laugh, and—for one of them—made her feel desirable.

  But Johnny would be alive.

  The thought didn’t give her as much comfort as it had every other time she chanted it through her head.

  She glanced at Jester where he interacted with his friends. The entire afternoon had been an extended form of foreplay. Jester touched her in some fashion every chance he got. Whether it was a hand that caressed her thigh under the table, an arm across her shoulders while they stood chatting, or fingers trailing up and down her spine when they sat next to each other on a chaise lounge, he was in constant physical contact with her.

  Emily loved it. She loved his attentiveness, she loved his friends, she loved this entire day, and sometime during the afternoon her attraction to Jester blossomed into a full-blown crush. She was beyond screwed. Falling for him in any way was not allowed. Feelings already clouded her judgment and distracted her from the end goal. Save Johnny. The No Prisoners were a tough group of badass men. They could take care of themselves.

  As the day wore on, and Emily observed Jester interact with his family, she learned a lot about the man beneath the muscles. Countless stories were told about his penchant for jokes and pranks, and how it had gotten him into trouble on more than one occasion. She also learned that everyone knew he used that jovial exterior to hide a core of intensity, and one did not want to cross him.

  Wise advice. Advice she needed to keep in the forefront of her mind. If the truth of her presence was revealed, he would probably hurt her just as bad as Snake would.

  “How you holding up, Em? You about ready to go?” Jester’s whispered words made her shiver as his warm breath tickled her skin.

  Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded. She worried she’d beg him to touch her, or worse, sleep with her if she opened her mouth.

  Jester stood and linked his much larger hand with hers, seeming to be in a bit of a rush. “We’re gonna take off. Thanks guys. Lila, amazing as usual.” He tugged Emily along as he bent to give Lila a quick peck on the cheek.

  Emily hugged Marcie and Lila as she passed, feeling like she could be friends with these women. That was, if she wasn’t here to screw their men over on her quest to protect her brother. A sense of sadness overtook her. By handing over the No Prisoners to Snake, she’d also be hurting these women. They knew who their husbands were. They knew the risks of being with men like Striker and Hook, right? Why didn’t that thought ease any of her guilt? “Yes, Lila, thank you for everything. I really had a great time getting to know you all.”

  “I’m so glad you came, Emily. I really enjoyed getting to know you as well. We’ll do this again really soon!”

  “Definitely. Thank you again, you have an exquisite home.”

  Emily and Jester walked out hand in hand. Neither spoke. The air between them crackled with awareness. Her body felt primed, ready for whatever was going to happen, and she had a feeling something would happen. Jester was too sexual a man to have spent the entire afternoon teasing her into a state of arousal to let the opportunity slip by.

  Would she allow something to happen? She had to. For Johnny. It was the easiest way to get close to the club. And easier to think along those lines than admit she just plain wanted Jester.

  When they arrived at his bike, Jester lifted her, and set her down sideways on the seat, facing him. “I have to taste of you.” The words left his mouth as it descended on hers, touching down with an explosion of heat.

  The man could kiss. He made love to her mouth, using his lips and tongue to drive her crazy. He was highly skilled, and if he could make her feel so out of control with just a kiss, she imagined she’d lose her mind if he ever got that mouth on parts lower.

  Emily was lost in the consuming heat of the kiss when a loud voice startled her so badly she nearly fell off the bike. “You better keep your clothes on in my damn driveway, Jester! This is a respectable neighborhood.” Striker’s laughter roared before he disappeared back into the house.

  “Fuck off, asshole!” Jester called back.

  Emily giggled and covered her face with her hands.

  Jester sighed and rested his forehead against hers, stroking a hand up and down her spine. “Well, I suppose I had that coming. Bastard’s probably been waiting for the opportunity all day.”

  “I’ve heard you have a nasty habit of catching them in the act,” she agreed.

  “Yeah, I’ve had the unfortunate pleasure of seeing way more of Striker than I’d ever wanted.”

  “Hmm,” she said, feeling a bit mischievous. “Doesn’t seem like that would be a bad thing.”

  Jester growled at her. “You checking out my friends, babe?”

  “Who me?” She made her eyes wide with exaggerated innocence.

  “You keep those gorgeous eyes trained in my direction so I don’t have to kill one of my brothers.” He laughed when she sent him a sassy wink, then his face grew serious. “You want to come home with me, Em?”

  Her neglected body screamed at her to say yes, but her mind won out. Unable to meet his gaze, she stared at his muscular chest, which didn’t help her resolve any. “I can’t, Jester,” she whispered. “This isn’t me. I don’t move this fast, and I can’t have any complications right now.”

  Jester placed his fist under her chin and forced her eyes up to him. “I’m not a complicated guy, Emily. I want you and I can tell you want me. And I don’t do anything beyond one night, ever.” He shrugged. “I like you, which is new for me. Who gives a shit that it’s fast? We can hang out and fuck our brains out until this burns itself out. Simple, uncomplicated.”

  It was the most unromantic proposition she’d ever heard, but Emily appreciated Jester’s honesty. Their relationship had a shelf life; he may not realize it was only a two-week shelf life, but still, his suggestion alleviated some of the guilt she felt knowing she’d disappear from his life forever in a few weeks.

  There was no doubt she’d experience things with Jester that she’d only read about late at night alone in her bed. The physical desire building for him all day had nothing to do with getting close to him for Johnny’s sake, or did it? Which sin was worse? Whoring herself out to gain information, or taking the time for selfish pleasures when Johnny was in danger?

  “What’s it gonna be, Em?”

  Two days ago in her living room, another biker asked her the same question. This time around, the question had an entirely different effect on her. She looked in his eyes, into a heat that promised ecstasy. Could she live with herself? She would have to. She’d get what she needed—an in with the MC, time to find the intel to save Johnny. Jester would get what he obviously wanted, and she would get what her body wanted as well. “Your house.”

  In two weeks, after Johnny was safe and they left Arizona, she’d have plenty of time for guilt and self-recriminations. Now, she’d take what was offered and worry about the consequences later.

  Five minutes later they were at his house, and he guided her off the bike, to the front door. Darkness from the desert night enveloped them, making the exterior details of the house difficult to take in, but the main shape was visible, and Jester’s home was surprisingly large.

  With speed and efficiency, Jester opened the door and ushered her into his house. She stepped into a large den with a plush, dark brown leather sectional and giant television.

  The kitchen could be seen through a large window cutout in a wall that separated the two rooms. Tall cherry cabinets ran around the room with pristine granite countertops below them.

  “That’s the most unused room in the house. I think the oven’s been turned on once in the five years I lived here, and that was two months ago when Lila brought me dinner.”

  Emily chuckled and stepped into the den. His home was warm, masculine, eclectic, and seemed to fit
him well, at least what she’d learned of him so far. “Jester, this is really nice.”

  “Thanks. Glad you like it.”

  Emily trailed her hand across the top of the buttery soft couch and wandered around the spacious living area. Her attention was drawn to a framed print of a motorcycle with a vibrant, stunning paint job. It was true work of art, a showpiece that probably wasn’t ridden on the road. “Wow, this picture is striking.”

  His smile was a bit sheepish. “Thanks.”

  “Did you take the picture?”

  “No, but I did the paint job on that bike about three years ago. It’s still my favorite.”

  Emily’s jaw dropped. She stepped closer to examine the print. He painted that motorcycle? There was more to this man than she’d realized.

  He turned and started up the stairs before she could tell him how impressed she was. “Follow me.”

  His bedroom fit the rest of the house, masculine without being macho. The room was quite expansive with an immense bed dominating the center of the space. The bed had to be custom made; it looked both longer and wider than a king size, and the mattress rested at least three-and-a-half feet off the ground. Not surprising, given the size of the man who slept in it. She had to be careful or she’d look like a fool climbing up onto it. Assuming of course, that she’d be in it at all.

  All the furniture was dark and smooth, a modern style that complemented the rest of the décor. Stunning black and white framed photographs of desert scenes and motorcycles adorned the walls.

  “Does it pass muster?” Jester’s deep voice broke her out of her musings.

  “Sorry, I don’t mean to be so nosy.” She shrugged.

  “You’re not. I want you to like it. Aside from Marcie and Lila, who helped me decorate, you’re the first woman who’s seen this room.”

  Emily’s jaw dropped for the second time in as many minutes, and she felt slightly bad for not even trying to hide her shock, but she couldn’t help it. “For real?” Butterflies flitted through her stomach, followed immediately by a herd of angry elephants. She couldn’t find him sweet. Couldn’t be touched by the fact he’d probably slept with hundreds of women but never brought one to his home. She was allowed two things: sex and information.

  He laughed. “Yes for real. Why would I make that up?”

  “Well, it’s just…Marcie and Lila…well, they said,” she stammered, and almost rolled her eyes at herself for sounding like a fifteen-year-old talking to the cool boy in school.

  Jester stepped closer and brushed an errant hair off her shoulder, skimming her neck in the process, a look of amusement on his face. “What did they tell you?”

  Emily shivered. Everywhere his fingertips grazed, goose bumps erupted. Like a cat, greedy for attention, she leaned into his petting. “Just that you’ve had your share of…female admirers.”

  He laughed, long and loud.

  Emily scowled. It wasn’t that funny.

  “There is no way either of them said female admirers. I guarantee they said something more like skanky hoes.”

  Her face grew warm. “Okay, no, that was my phrase, but you obviously know what I mean.”

  He stared at her, and she got the distinct impression he was deciding how much he was willing reveal to her.

  She chose not to wait for him, and forged on with her own admission. “Look, I don’t want to be presumptuous in my guess as to where this evening is going, but I’m not the most, um, experienced person when it comes to certain things.” Jester remained quiet so she continued. “I’m not a virgin, but…oh fuck it. I’ve only slept with one man, and only three times at that. Lila and Marcie alluded to the fact that you were on the other end of the spectrum. I’m just telling you this in case you want to back out. I’d rather you call this off now than be disappointed later.”

  She played with the edge of one of the patches on his cut as she chewed her lip, unable to lift her eyes to meet his. Could this be any less sexy? “Oh my God, I can’t believe I’m saying all this. I want to die.”

  Jester scooped her up, and sat her on the edge of his mountainous bed. With a hand on each knee he nudged her thighs open wide, and stepped into the cradle of her body, before he yanked her forward so her still clothed sex rested right against the impressive bulge of his erection.

  “What did I tell you about torturing that lip?” he asked as he flicked it with his finger. “Does this feel like I want to back out, Em?” His voice sounded gravelly, tense, like he was working to keep himself in check.

  She shook her head and she stared up at him, trying to hold her hips still when what she really wanted to do was grind against him until the need was fulfilled.

  “Thank you for being straight with me, babe. I’m gonna be straight with you as well. There’s not much I haven’t done when it comes to sex. Yes, I have slept with more than my fair share of women. What can I say? I like sex, a lot of it, and frequently. I’m pretty damn sure I’ve never been with a woman who’s only had sex three times or only been with one man. Hell, you saw the women at the club the other night. Most of them have slept with so many guys they’re one fuck away from professionals. That’s what I typically go for, someone who knows the score, and can get the job done without expecting anything more. I’ve never had any interest in a woman who wasn’t, let’s say, well-practiced.”

  He paused and Emily looked away. She wanted to crawl under the bed. His next words would probably be, “So let me call you a cab.” She shouldn’t care. In fact, it was better this way. Nothing was supposed to happen between them anyway. This wasn’t the reason why she was here, yet after spending the day with him and his family she wanted him, plain and simple, independent of her mission to save Johnny.

  “Then I saw you standing at that bar,” he continued.

  Emily’s eyes snapped back to his. Now, all the money in the world couldn’t tear her gaze away from the captivating heat and desire reflected in his dark eyes.

  “Baby, I could tell you were innocent the first second I saw you at the party, like you’d rather be getting a root canal. Last night, I lay awake all night hard as a fuckin’ rock while I imagined all the things I could show you, teach you. All I can think about is taking you over the edge again and again. I want to watch your gorgeous baby blue eyes react when I do things to you no other man has done, and see them glaze over as you realize the capacity your body has for pleasure.” While he spoke he lifted her arms above her head, and slowly drew her top up and off her body.

  Emily’s mouth dried up at the same time her pussy flooded. She was wetter than she’d ever been, and he’d done nothing but speak to her. A war waged in her head between her rational mind screaming, “Stay detached! Ask questions!” and the endorphin flooded part of her brain. The sound of his voice, the feel of his hands sliding up her arms trumped all other thoughts and she gave herself over to sensations.

  Still on the edge of the bed, half wrapped around him, arms raised, she allowed him to remove her shirt, revealing her breasts encased in the black lace pushup bra she’d told herself she didn’t wear for him.

  “Say something, baby.”

  “I can’t think of anything to say. All I can think about is your hands, and how I want to feel them everywhere.” Her hips involuntarily moved and she rubbed against him, the movement not sufficient enough to ease the ache as she’d hoped, but perfect for enflaming the need.

  She was going straight to hell.

  Chapter Eight

  Jester stared at the sweet, innocent, first grade teacher who had him so turned on his hands nearly shook. How was it possible to want one woman as much as he wanted her right now? Why her? He should be running away. This had commitment and shackles written all over it, but nothing short of the ground opening and swallowing him whole could pry him away from the gorgeous woman staring at him like he was a king.

  Her breasts were magnificent, large and high; they sat plumped in the sexy as hell bra. He wanted to take his time, spend hours touching her and sucking he
r, showing her just what’s she’d been missing. But his dick throbbed with a demand he couldn’t ignore, and he wasn’t sure how long he’d last without burying himself in her slick heat.

  With an expert hand he flicked open the back clasp of the bra, and chuckled as her eyes widened.

  “Pretty good at that, huh?” she asked on a shaky laugh.

  “Just got lucky. You nervous, baby?”

  “A little.”

  “Don’t be.” He lowered her arms drawing the bra straps down while brushing his thumbs over the indentations they left on her shoulders. One downside to having bigger breasts. “Soon you won’t be able to think enough to be nervous.” His mouth literally watered as he bared her breasts, and removed the bra, tossing it over his shoulder. Attention drawn to the hard points of her nipples, they looked as hard as he felt, and he appreciated the visual evidence of her want. “Fuck, baby, your tits—”

  “Are way too big,” she said with another tremulous laugh.

  Jester scoffed, and traced a finger around one large areola, drawing a hiss from her. “First of all, Emily, there’s no such thing. And even if there were, yours are not too big. I have huge hands, baby, and I like them to be full, almost as much as I like my mouth to be full.”

  He cupped a hand under each mound, demonstrating the fit. With a squeeze he lifted them as he bent his head close to blow a breath of hot air across one sensitive tip. Captivated, he watched as it tightened even further. Out the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Emily as she fisted her hands in the soft comforter on the bed. Her knuckles whitened with the force of her grasp.

  Perfect.

  He wanted her needy, out of her mind with desire for him.

  “Jester.” She moaned, her pelvis rocking against his hard-on as her body sought release.