Wicked

by KB Winters

  Hazel would have to wait.

  ***

  “These pricks are escalating.” Gunnar stood at the head of the table, back erect and shoulders so broad they seemed to stretch from wall to wall or maybe that was just the breadth of his anger. He gripped the back of his chair so tight his knuckles turned white. “They didn’t just put Edna Mae in the hospital and trash Hazel’s apartment. No, this time, those motherfuckers committed arson, burning Terrie’s Urban Boutique to the ground. This shit is unacceptable. Terrie’s a single mom and I know that means something to a lot of us in here. Thankfully she wasn’t hurt, but her means of supporting her kids has been fuckin’ decimated. Get me?”

  Heads nodded all around the table, agreement wafted in the air along with something darker, more intense. Bloodthirst and vengeance. This time I understood perfectly. “Gotcha, Gunnar.”

  He tilted his head in my direction. “You get it now?”

  “I get it, man.” I did. This wasn’t just about making money, even though the MC would make money providing additional protection to the businesses in town. This was about a way of life. Preserving that way of life for the people who chose to live in our town, because that’s what Opey was now. Ours.

  “Good. Holden has already set up a donation for Terrie, routed through one of our holding companies so it’ll just appear as an anonymous donation. The town already set up one for Big Mac and Edna Mae so we just added a lump sum to help out.”

  Gunnar was all hell fired up about protecting the town and the more he paced and the more he talked, the more my respect for him grew.

  “You don’t waste a minute, man.” Cruz shook his head, eyes shining with disbelief and admiration.

  “None to waste. I had a long talk with the mayor last night at the club. He’s a big fucking fan by the way.” Gunnar flashed a shit-eating grin as he dropped down into his chair at the head of the table.

  “Him and the wifey love our little club, and he wanted us to know that he appreciated the campaign contribution and our efforts to look out for Opey.”

  Gunnar’s plans were coming to life just the way he’d envisioned them. That combined with having a woman to love and the sweetest little girl in the world, no wonder he was walking around with his dick swinging like King Kong.

  It all sounded good, but it wasn’t the most important part of the equation. “Anybody seen anything on the nightly patrols?”

  “No, goddammit.” Gunnar flung a pen across the table, anger rolling off of him in waves. “These pricks are slippery as hell. We know they’ve been around, but we’ve seen fuck all from them.” He pounded a fist into his hand. “I can’t wait to get my hands on these motherfuckers.”

  “Me, too,” Slayer said, pounding the table with his fist, angry and ready for vengeance. “Fucking with those businesses and good folks who don’t deserve this shit. That’s unacceptable.”

  “Maybe we need to double the patrols,” Holden suggested, his deep voice booming throughout the small room. “Cover both sides of town so they can’t slip away as easy as they have been.”

  “As much as we can,” I agreed with a shrug of my shoulders. “We need more of a presence in town so we can see who they might be. Take your women out for dinner or dancing, have a drink with some of the guys at the bar. Shit like that.”

  Gunnar and Holden nodded, the wheels spinning in their heads as plans began to form. It wasn’t unlike watching Jank come up with an alternative plan on the fly because nothing ever went how you thought it would in the desert. Apparently, war never fucking ended.

  Ever.

  “We’ll get a plan in place right away. Any volunteers for tonight?”

  Gunnar looked around the room, and I knew just what he saw: a bunch of sad sack veterans with no love lives to speak of. Slayer sometimes had overnight visitors of the female variety, but the rest of us were as lonely as the day we set foot on Hardtail Ranch.

  “Come on guys, none of you has a woman who’ll tolerate your ugly mug in exchange for a free dinner?”

  Slayer laughed. “Usually it’s the women who buys me dinner, but I guess I can see who wants to ride the pole tonight.”

  Arms spread wide; he rolled his hips in a lewd gesture that was so typical Slayer that even I laughed.

  “I’ll go.”

  The room fell silent as soon as the words left my mouth, all eyes looking at me like I’d grown a third fucking head.

  “What? I’m not the biggest motherfucker around, which means people won’t notice.”

  Of all the guys at Hardtail, I was the smallest. Cruz was shorter than me but that fucker was built like a refrigerator, stocky as hell with too many muscles.

  “Yeah? And who you gonna take, Saint?”

  I knew Wheeler was joking, but it was still goddamn offensive. “Tell us about the woman keeping you distracted these days.”

  Distracted was a good damn word for it because thoughts of Hazel had distracted me for weeks. Sometimes, at night when I was about to have the nightmare about losing my friends, I welcomed the distraction she brought. Other times, like now, when the scent of her lingered on my skin and my clothes, I cursed her existence.

  “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I said I’d go.”

  “Bullshit.” Of course Slayer was the one to call me out, because he was far more perceptive than anybody realized. “Not only have you been distracted in the way that could only be from a woman, but right now you smell like you’ve been buried in pussy for the last few hours.”

  His lips curved up and spread into a shit-eating grin because the fucker knew he was right.

  At least it wasn’t just me. The scent of Hazel was everywhere. All over me and every time I sucked in a breath, she was right there.

  “Am I doing this or not?”

  Gunnar’s lips twitched, the fucker. “I don’t know, Saint, are you?”

  He cocked a brow my way, daring me to challenge him.

  “Damn right, I am. I’ll let you know if I see anything worth reporting.”

  “Anything,” Gunnar clarified. “Let me know if you see anything or anyone you don’t know or who looks like they don’t belong in Opey. I don’t want to take no fucking chances. None.”

  “Got it.”

  “Good.”

  His shoulders fell again, proof that this was weighing heavily on him and my respect for Gunnar notched up again. My first impression was that he wanted the cops in his pocket so we could do what the fuck we wanted with no consequences. But I could see now, just how each crime affected him deeply. Especially the one against Terrie.

  “All right then. Next we need to talk about what else, fuckin’ cattle.”

  I zoned out at Gunnar’s words because though it brought in a shit ton of money for the ranch and the club, I had no interest in cows, cow shit, or how cows became burgers. Holden did just fine with that end of the business, and I had my fill of learning just how a fucking steak was made.

  By the time the meeting was over, I was another ball of nerves and half considering another session with Mitch instead of the thing I knew had to be done. And it definitely had to be done.

  I had to find a way to convince Hazel to go out with me. Tonight.

  For real.

  With a hidden agenda she didn’t need to know about.

  Not yet, anyway.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Hazel

  “You want me to do what?”

  Running into my boss and part time lover while I was dressed in nothing but a light blue towel was not my idea of a good time. Sure, my legs trembled at the sight of him in a pair of dark wash jeans and a long sleeve grey shirt that showed off his impressive chest, his thick arms and that tight stomach decorated with a delicious six pack. But that didn’t help me understand what the fuck he was talking about.

  “You heard me. Go out with me tonight.” It wasn’t exactly how I expected a guy to act or sound when he asked me out, then again Saint was like no man I’d ever known.

&
nbsp; For one thing he didn’t bother to even act like he liked me, not even when he wanted to fuck me. If I didn’t respect the honesty so much, I might find it loathsome, right along with that deceptively boyish grin he was wearing while my clit throbbed and tried to reach out to him. I was half a second away from jumping on him and riding his face to orgasm, but I couldn’t. Not yet.

  “Why?”

  He scoffed. “What the hell kind of question is that?”

  “A good one, I’d say. You barely tolerate me at work and you’ve already fucked me in every hole imaginable. Why would you ask me out now?”

  It didn’t make sense, and I learned at an early age to trust my instincts. They were probably the only reason I was still alive.

  “I’d like to get to know you, Hazel. I’m not sure I’ve ever met a woman like you before.”

  Flattery. Even I wasn’t immune to it. “I’m not so special, Saint. I can promise you that.”

  He stepped closer and ran a finger along the edge of the towel across my chest, making my breath hitch.

  “I’d like a chance to decide that for myself. I already know what your incredible mouth can do.” His finger traced the line of my lips and I was frozen to the spot, hooked on what he would do next. “I know just how delicious and sweet your pussy is, how juicy she gets when I lick her just so.”

  One hand slid under the towel and skated over my pussy lips until I gasped.

  “How tight she gets when I slide my cock deep into her. How you scream when I make you come.”

  His finger slid in my pussy just enough to feel that he was there without providing any real relief.

  “Now I’d like to get to know the rest of you.”

  “Why?” I looked up into dark green eyes, deep and intense in their heat as his finger slid deeper and deeper, until he was right where I needed him.

  “You can see if I’m what you obviously think I am and maybe you’ll convince me you’re not as special as you seem. Plus there will be food and booze.”

  He had me there. “You should’ve led with that. I can put up with anyone long enough to put away a steak and a beer.”

  He laughed and it was a good sound, deep and rich and so full of life it was at odds with the darkness Saint wore like a security blanket.

  “And you said you were nothing special. I’m calling bullshit.”

  I rolled my eyes and ignored that warmth that spread throughout my body at his words. I didn’t want to be flattered to feel complimented by his words, but I was only human. A weak, weak human.

  “What time are we leaving on this last minute date of ours?”

  He at least had the grace to blush. “Seven o’clock good?”

  “Should I dress like it’s a date or do I need to dress to run?”

  He hadn’t said so yet, and I had a feeling he wouldn’t, but I knew Saint was up to something. This date had ‘ulterior motives’ written all over it, but I was bored and hungry, and the idea of fucking Saint again was worth the effort of getting ready for a date.

  “It’s a date so dress like it’s a date.”

  I wanted to smack his face at his smart ass remarks, but his commanding tone hit me right between the thighs. If he wanted me to dress for a date, I would blow his fucking mind.

  Before the date, and if he was lucky, after.

  “You got it. Boss.”

  He quirked a brow but wisely kept his mouth shut as he turned and walked away. I watched him go until the sight of that denim hugging his ass and thighs was no more.

  When Saint was gone, I called the one person who knew me best for advice.

  “Jessie, I need help with a date night outfit, and I only have a few things from my house. Think I should go shopping?” I told her with a smile, pulling the phone away from my ear at her squeal of excitement.

  Apparently, this was my life now.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Saint

  “Jesus fucking Christ, Hazel. Are you trying to kill me?” The woman knew how to fill out a dress and the one she wore tonight was all white, a sharp contrast to her dark hair and eyes, nearly melting into pale porcelain flesh. The dress was pretty, way feminine with lace all over, giving glimpses of bare skin.

  Hazel’s lips spread into a slow grin as she shrugged. “Not kill you, no. Just dressing for a date. Like you said.”

  I smiled at her wording. “Wow. Okay.”

  “Hmm,” was her only response. “You want me to change?” She lifted a dark brow at me, daring me.

  I stepped in close enough that I could smell the perfume on her skin, the fruity scent of her shampoo. So I could see that little fluttering pulse in her throat, the one that gave her away every single time.

  “If you change right now, the only thing I’ll be eating for dinner is you.”

  I smiled at the way she shivered at my words, enjoying the playful banter between us.

  “As great as that sounds, I was promised steak, and I really, really can’t give it up to a man who breaks his promises.”

  Her words were playful but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a hint of truth in those words.

  I shrugged and took a step back, waving her towards the front of the bunkhouse.

  “You make a better dessert anyway.”

  “Let’s see how juicy the steak is before we start talking dessert, boss man.”

  She flashed a sexy smile over her shoulder that made my jeans so tight I had to take a long moment walking around the car to get my body under control.

  “Nice car,” she finally said when I slid behind the wheel and got the car on the road.

  “Thanks. It was the first, and only, big purchase I made when I retired from the Army.” Retired. That was a fucking joke. They called it a medical discharge but that was just a term to make us feel better about no longer being useful to our government.

  Hazel slid her hands over the soft leather seats, the dust-free dashboard and the gearshift with a smile.

  “I’m guessing you earned every penny of this baby. Dream car or what?”

  My shoulders relaxed as I turned onto the dark two-lane road that went from Hardtail Ranch straight into the heart of Opey proper. I knew Hazel wouldn’t ask questions that were hard to answer because she wouldn’t want the favor returned.

  “Can’t say I ever really had a dream car. Growing up in New York isn’t the same as most of the country. We’re not all eager to get our licenses at sixteen and saving up for our dream car by eighteen.” I shrugged again. “I had enough for a significant down payment to keep the monthly payments low, and I liked the color.”

  Hazel smiled at me like I was the most amusing creature she’d ever encountered, but instead of being put off, I was amused in return.

  “Funny, I thought you would’ve gotten a green car to match your eyes.”

  I barked out a laugh at that. “Not something men do, sweetheart.”

  Who in the hell chose a car based on eye color?

  “Is that what you did?”

  She laughed again. This time it was deep and throaty and sexy as hell.

  “Hell no. I chose it because I could afford it, and it had the fewest miles of any other cars in the lot.”

  It was a practical answer from a practical woman and as much as I appreciated it, I wanted to be the one to show her how to be impractical.

  “When you were on active duty, did you just have your checks deposited into the bank?”

  I nodded, wondering where this line of questioning was headed.

  “Yeah. Direct deposit and I only needed it when I was on leave or when I came home. If nothing else, being active military is an excellent savings plan.”

  Hazel laughed again. “They should use that for the recruitment poster.”

  I put the car in park and made my way around to the passenger side. She was still chuckling when I opened her door and took her hand. “If nothing else, you’ll save a shit ton of money with Uncle Sam.”

  I couldn’t deny that her laugh was contag
ious, giving me a chance to laugh that I’d denied myself for too long.

  “Thanks for that,” I told her when her laughter died down. I guided her into Tex’s Longhorn Steak House, the best and only steakhouse in all of Opey.

  “For what?” Her dark brows pulled together in an adorable frown, and I resisted the urge to kiss the bunched up skin between her brows.

  “It’s been hard to think of my time in the military with a smile or a laugh.”

  I didn’t know why I admitted that her to except for the fact that Mitch kept insisting that sharing good memories is better than hoarding the bad ones.

  She frowned. “Did you not like the Army or was it all the bad shit you saw?”

  Again, her questions were genuine and matter of fact, there was none of the sickening desire to know all the gory details.

  “I loved the service,” I told her as we waited to be seated. “The guys in my unit were my best friends, hell they were family to me. Let’s just say it was the culmination of a lot of bad shit that ended with my whole family dead.”

  “Shit, Saint.”

  Her words were soft, quietly shocked, but instead of trying to make me feel better with trite words and disgusting platitudes, Hazel just wrapped her arms around me.

  “Losing people you love sucks donkey balls.”

  I laughed at the truth of that statement and dropped a kiss on the bottom of her forehead. It was an intimate gesture, far too intimate for our current relationship, but it felt nice. Necessary.

  “Damn right it does.”

  “Saint party for two, your table is ready.” The pretty waitress led us to our table and rattled off the specials before leaving us once again.

  “So, Saint. Tell me about your friends in the military.”

  I gave her a look to see if she was being serious, but Hazel’s gaze had already gone back to the leather bound menu.

  “What do you want to know?”

  She shrugged. “Who was the funny one? Which one made sure you guys had girls wherever you went on leave? Who was the gross one who told dirty jokes and crude hookup stories? Tell me.”

  Shit, I hadn’t thought about that in ages. “Jank was the guy in charge, though he didn’t act like it until he had to.”