by Lilly Atlas
Lila took pity on her and changed the subject. “We were all just talking about what we have planned for the summer months. Besides hiding from the outrageous heat that is.”
Grateful for her sensitivity, Emily mouthed a thank-you to Lila. Pretending to be a smitten women hanging with the girls was a struggle when her mind was still inside that meeting room. She had one more chance before drastic measures would be taken. Wednesday night the boys had a meeting, then they all went out partying afterward. Now that she knew the doors weren’t locked, she could use the time they’d all be away to go snooping.
Emily grabbed a beer from a cooler, pasted a smile on her face, and tried to act normal. God help her if she didn’t find anything Wednesday night.
Chapter Sixteen
Jester stood across the asphalt lot, his back against the exterior wall of the clubhouse, drinking in the sight of Emily. She blipped on his radar as soon as she exited the building, but he didn’t go to her, letting her have some time to connect with the women.
She fit in well. For someone who seemed so skittish and apprehensive when he first met her, she adapted to his world like a natural. People were drawn to her kind and genuinely warm, accepting personality.
Emily had no clue how gorgeous she was, standing there in a pair of white denim cutoffs with a fitted purple tank top. Brown cowboy boots topped off the outfit, and did amazing things for her legs. The clothes were typical desert attire, but she wore it well, and looked insanely sexy. He intended to have those booted legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her later tonight.
Taking a drink of his beer, he watched as she laughed at something Marcie said. Her head was thrown back, exposing the creamy expanse of her neck and his dick twitched in his pants. Jesus, he was like a horny teenager who’d just discovered sex. He could have her three times a day, and still want her like a man starving.
This was an entirely new situation for him. Sure, his sexual appetite had always been on the excessive side, but he usually lost interest in a woman five minutes after he came. It was crass, and probably made him an asshole, but it was what it was.
With Emily, however, he not only continued to want her body again and again, but he genuinely enjoyed every second of time he spent with her, fucking or not.
“You’ve got that look.” Striker ambled up next to Jester, handing him another beer.
Jester tossed his empty bottle in a nearby trashcan as he took a pull from the fresh one. He snorted in response to Striker. “Go ahead. I’m sure you’re dying to tell me exactly what look it is.”
He smirked. “I sure am. It’s the look of an animal who found its mate.”
Christ. Is that what this was? Was Emily his mate? Jester wasn’t sure he could handle that. He wasn’t finished with her, but did he want something permanent?
Striker laughed. “It’s also the look of a man who knows he’s fucked.”
“Yeah, that sounds more like it.”
“She sure is pretty. It’s those light eyes, they pull you in something fierce. Tits ain’t bad either.”
Jester turned and scowled down at Striker who stood just three inches shorter than he did, still over six feet, but Jester had the height advantage. “I’m sorry, VP, Lila ain’t enough for you?”
Striker laughed, and Jester knew he’d fallen right into his trap. “Brother, Lila is more than enough for me, but that don’t mean my eyes are busted. Emily’s a gorgeous woman. Every man here can see that. But you sure did react like a male animal protecting his mate.”
Jester grunted, somewhat pacified by Striker’s words. “Christ, I feel like a wild animal half the time I’m around her.”
Striker shrugged. “We all are, man. At least until a good woman comes along and tries to domesticate us.” He lifted his beer in a toast toward Jester. “To being domesticated. I’m living proof that it can be a damn good thing, bro.”
Jester lifted his own beer toward Striker, taking a long drink while he thought about his VP’s words. At some point they’d have to figure out what they were doing with each other, but it could wait until after the club was just about one million dollars richer. Emily didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get away from him, a few more days wouldn’t matter.
“What’s that about?” Striker pointed at Emily.
She had her phone to her ear and was walking away from the group of women, but what caught Jester’s attention was how her entire demeanor changed. Her posture was rigid, gait jerky and the light had gone out of her eyes. Fear was written all over her face. The conversation didn’t last more than a few seconds, but Emily was affected by it.
She shoved her phone in the back pocket of her shorts and bent her head forward, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and middle finger. Then she took a deep breath and seemed to rally, making her way to the food table.
That’s it. Jester was done. Something in her life wasn’t right, and she was going to tell him was it was. This wasn’t the time or place, but he’d get it out of her soon. If there was something she was afraid of, he could sure as fuck fix it for her, no matter what their relationship was.
“Oh shit,” Striker muttered.
Jester glanced at him. His jaw had clenched and eyes narrowed.
“Food table. Look.” Striker pointed in the direction he was referring to.
Emily picked up a plate to fill with food. Colt had wandered up to her, and was saying something Jester didn’t stand a chance of hearing from his distance. Emily’s back was to him so he couldn’t see her reactions, either.
“No fucking way.” Jester stepped forward intent on showing Colt exactly what he meant when he’d ordered him to stay the fuck away from Emily. A firm hand on his arm stopped his forward progression.
“Hold on a minute, brother. I want to see what he does. He’s been a dick ever since he patched in, and Shiv is starting to get pissed. Might have to take some action soon. I just want to see what he’s going to do.”
“Striker, there is no way in hell I’m standing by and allowing him to put his hands on her.”
“I’m not asking you to, Jester. If he looks like he’s about to cross a line you can go over and beat the shit out of him.”
After glowering at Striker, Jester took a step back, but he did not relax. Fists clenched, he bounced slightly on the balls of his feet like a boxer in the ring. He was ready to spring forward and tear Colt away from Emily if need be. Wild animal indeed.
Emily turned, and set the plate she was holding down on a table to give Colt her attention as he spoke to her. She was too damn nice to tell him to fuck off. Her face was impassive, and she held herself rigid, but spoke with him and didn’t appear afraid. Then Colt said something that had her frowning and shaking her head. She shifted her body slightly, angling away from him, giving the impression that she was growing distinctly uncomfortable.
To the rest of the partiers at the barbecue, the scene might look like two people chatting, but to the man who knew her body as intimately as he knew his own, he picked up on how uneasy she was.
Just as Jester reached his limit—he wasn’t going to stand by and watch as Emily grew distressed—Colt lifted a hand, and with one finger, traced the neckline of her top, right across the hint of cleavage that peeked out. She immediately slapped his hand away, and took a step back with a firm shake of her head.
“That’s it,” Jester ground out. “I hope you got what you needed because he’s a fuckin’ dead man.”
“Right on your heels, brother.” Striker shadowed Jester’s lengthy stride.
As Jester neared the table, and could make out their conversation, he itched with the need to plow his fist into Colt’s smug face.
“Come on now, Emily. Don’t be like that. Jester already told me I could take a turn.”
Emily looked crushed, and Jester rushed to get to her.
“You don’t think you’re the only one Jester’s fuckin’, do you?” Colt laughed, a nasty sound, and Emily took another step back. “He fuc
ks any and everything with a snatch. You’re a fool if you’re loyal to him.”
Jester rammed his fist into Colt’s face with a satisfying crunch. The powerful blow knocked Colt off his feet and into the table, sending trays of food flying in all directions.
“Jester!” Emily stepped forward. She didn’t get more than one step toward the fray when Acer slid an arm across her shoulders, and pulled her back from the ensuing fight. Jester briefly met Acer’s gaze and Acer nodded once, an unspoken promise among brothers to keep his woman safe.
“Get up, Colt. You need help understanding what stay the fuck away from my woman means? I’m more than happy to educate you.”
Colt stood. He spat a mouthful of blood on the ground, and gave Jester an unrepentant smirk. A crowd had formed by now, a rowdy half-drunk group looking to egg on the fight. Jester didn’t care. A number of members had issues with Colt. Most would be more than happy to watch the little shit get pounded.
Right now, he wasn’t interested in Colt’s overall behavior since he’d patched, but he planned to make sure Colt knew to keep far away from Emily from here on out. As an added benefit, it wouldn’t hurt a few of these other assholes to see what happened if they poached on his property.
“What the fuck’s up with you, man?” he asked Jester with a sneer. “You used to talk shit and joke all the time. You seem to have lost your sense of humor. What’s wrong, brother? Emily not keeping your dick happy?”
“I’ve got a sense of humor. What I don’t have is patience for you touching what’s mine. Especially after I warned you what would happen if you didn’t back the hell off.” Jester was through talking to this piece of shit. He lunged and slammed his fist into Colt’s stomach before hitting him in the face again.
Queasy over the idea of Jester fighting because of her, Emily tried to break away, but an immovable arm remained locked across her chest, anchoring her to the man who looked too pretty to be an outlaw. “Please let me go.” She turned her head to Acer. “I need to stop this before someone gets hurt.”
Acer stared down at her, his eyes alight with amusement. “No can do, baby doll. Jester will have my ass next if I let you get anywhere near that fight.”
“This isn’t funny. Someone is going to get seriously hurt.”
They traded punches, Colt’s face now sporting a black eye. Visions of Johnny’s bruised face invaded her mind. Would Jester beat Colt like Snake had Johnny?
She thrashed in Acer’s hold, increasing her efforts to get free. Why didn’t anyone intervene?
With a chuckle Acer gave her a teasing squeeze, as though her efforts to loosen his grip were humorous. “Relax, honey, it’s not acceptable for a man to pee on his woman, at least not in public,” he added with a wink. “So we mark our territory in other ways.”
“So this is a male ego thing?” Colt’s fist connected with Jester’s jaw and she winced. “I don’t like this at all. Please let go of me. I need to stop this.” Her voice rose as panic started to take hold. All she could think of was Colt lying on the floor, looking exactly like Johnny.
Was Jester the kind of man who would do that to a brother?
Acer finally tuned into her distress. He bent down so his face was next to hers, watching the brawl, his mouth near her ear. “Honey, he’s fine. Trust me, your man can handle himself.”
“But I don’t want Jester to hurt someone because of me. He’s not like that. He looks so scary right now.” Her voice was nearly a sob.
It must have finally clicked for Acer. “Take a deep breath and stop fighting against me. I’ll face Jester’s wrath next if I bruise you.”
Emily gasped and stopped all her struggles.
“I was kidding, but at least it got you to stop. I was the one who was going to be bruised.”
His attempt at humor was lost on her.
“Watch him, Emily. Really watch your man. He’s not a bully. Look how he’s holding back. This ain’t all about you. Colt’s been a little shit ever since we patched him in, which is why no one’s breaking it up. He needs to be taken down a notch or ten. It will be over in just a second.”
Sure enough, Jester clocked Colt once more, and he went down face first in a heap on the ground and didn’t stir. Jester turned and marched straight toward the clubhouse without a backward glance.
The crowd hooted and hollered before dissipating, the show over now that one of them wasn’t able to fight back.
Lila pushed through the throng of bikers until she stood next to Colt’s prone form.
“Nice, Jester,” Lila muttered with a roll of her eyes. “Someone carry him into the bunk room so I can check him out. Make sure he didn’t rattle his brains around too much.”
Emily, stared down at the man on the ground, unable to make her feet move in any direction. Her insides twisted with the thought that she was the reason behind this and Jester was the man responsible for it. It was only then she realized Acer had disappeared.
“You’ll get used to it, Emily. Sometimes these guys need to beat on each other to get their points across. I think it’s in their DNA or something.” Lila laughed, and Emily hoped that meant the man on the floor wasn’t seriously injured.
Was she crazy for getting involved with a man like Jester? Maybe he was more in line with Snake than she’d originally thought.
What was she supposed to do now? She couldn’t leave, Jester was her ride. She wasn’t convinced she should be around him either. Casper hit Johnny in front of her face, but aside from that she’d never witnessed violence up close and personal like this. Was he even safe to be around right now?
As she stood there feeling stupid and confused, Striker strolled over. “You okay, hon? You look like you want to puke or try to break the Olympic record for fastest female runner.”
“I’m so sorry to have caused trouble. I’ll call a cab and clear out of here right away.” There was a good chance she’d start crying and that couldn’t happen here.
“No need, hon. That’s been brewing a long time. Besides, you need to go in and see to your man.”
Emily shook her head. “He may not want me there right now, and I don’t know how to handle him like…that. He looked—” She swallowed a lump in her throat. “—dangerous.”
Striker cocked his head and leveled her with a hard stare. “I’ll say this once, Emily, since you don’t know Jester very well, but just once, so listen good. Whatever happens here.” He pointed around to the men still drinking and shoveling in food. “That’s one thing, between brothers. A very different thing than will ever happen with you. He can be as mad as a rabid dog, but he’ll never lay a hand on you. He’s a man, not a hot-headed little boy. He knows how to control himself, doesn’t pick on people weaker than he is, and he doesn’t go off the rails. Ever. It’s just not him. I promise you have nothing to be afraid of.”
She stared at him, struck dumb by his impassioned plea for his brother.
“He’ll want you. Here, take this.” He placed a silver key in her hand. “It’s a spare to my room on the second floor. Jester knows which one. I keep it locked during parties. Never know who’ll show up here looking to make trouble for us.”
Wasn’t that the truth.
“Take your time, no one will bother you in there and Jester can get cleaned up. And Emily? Don’t listen to what Colt told you. You have Jester’s loyalty. He’s not screwing around on you.”
Guilt swamped her. She didn’t deserve his loyalty. She didn’t deserve his trust.
She glanced down at the key, and thanked Striker before making her way toward the clubhouse. The metal in her hand was more than a room key. It was a possible key to information for Snake. Her heart beat an uneasy rhythm, and she wondered exactly what she’d encounter when she got in there, both with Jester and in Striker’s room.
Jester sat at the bar taking a swig directly from a bottle of amber liquid. Emily wasn’t very well versed in liquors and couldn’t begin to guess what it was. He turned when the door slammed behind her and their eyes me
t. Emily’s gait faltered at the strength of the emotion shining out toward her.
There was some sorrow in his gaze, but mostly desire, and a vulnerability so unlike him. Any other time that stare would have warmed her body and her heart, but today her attention was divided. Part of her wanted to rush to Jester, to comfort him and ease burdens, but the key was burning straight into her palm.
Walking straight to him, she gently removed the bottle from his bloodied hand and rested it on the bar. With a light tug on his arm she coaxed him off the barstool and directed him up the stairs. “Striker gave me his key.”
With a nod Jester walked down the hallway and stopped in front of a closed door. Emily slid the key in the lock, twisted the knob, and pushed the door open. “Go lie down on the bed, and I’ll grab something to clean up your hand.” She nudged him toward the bed.
“Emily,” he started.
With a shake of her head she cut off what would most likely have been him telling her he was fine.
As she walked toward the bathroom, her gaze darted around, taking in as much of the room as she could without being obvious in her search. There wasn’t much to see. Aside from the bed and a small dresser, the room was basically empty. Striker probably didn’t spend much time here, now that he had Lila.
In the Spartan bathroom, she fished around until she found a washcloth, and wet it with warm water from the sink.
When she returned to the room she found Jester lying close to the edge of the queen sized bed, one booted foot resting on the ground while the other was stretched out on top of the blankets. A pile of pillows propped his head up, and his astute eyes followed her every movement.
He showed no signs of falling asleep as part of her hoped he would. Now her chances of searching the dresser and nightstand were next to zilch. Emily sighed. This day was wrought with repeated failed attempts and frustration.
