“You’ve always had a thing for Fae guys.”
Sloane had smelled of Fae, too, which was practically unheard of, for a wolf. I looked at the floor and told him, “I’m sorry about Sloane, Bash. You know I am.” The whole evening came back to me, and grief threatened to engulf me. Maybe having Bash around wasn’t a good idea, after all.
He stepped forward, pulled me into his arms. “You never did anything like that again, and I never regretted taking care of him for you. The rest of the night was out of a horror show, though. I know how close you were to your mom, and it tore my heart out, not being able to fix that for you, too.”
I relaxed into him, let him hold me. Bash had never been one to say much, especially when it came to feelings, and I was shocked by his words. It felt like I needed to share, too, so I told him, “I had such a huge crush on you back then. I managed to hide it, so no one smelled my arousal when you were around, but when I lost you afterwards, it killed another part of me.”
“I volunteered to keep helping you with your car, but your dad wanted to spend more time with you, and he took over the whole thing. It hurt me, too, Princess.”
I wanted to ask why he hadn’t come to my graduation, but I didn’t want him to see any more emotion from me. He’d been there for me when I needed him, and then he’d been gone. It hadn’t been his fault, or mine, it’s just the way it’d been.
“I really should get a good night’s sleep before my first day, tomorrow.”
“Okay, but we’re doing lunch Saturday, and we’re going to ride there on my bike. It’s about an hour outside of town. Wear your leathers — I’ll pick you up at noon. He isn’t the only one who gets to show you around town.”
The fist I hadn’t realized was squeezing my heart relaxed, and I let out a sigh. “Deal, Bash. I’ll see you Saturday.”
“We’ll talk before then. Call me when you can tomorrow night. Want to hear about your first day.” We exchanged phone numbers, he told me if he hadn’t heard from me by nine he’d call me, and he left with another hug.
* * * *
Bash and I talked about five minutes Monday night, because I needed to do tons of research to familiarize myself with every angle of my new project. The dams on the Tennessee River and its tributaries are decades past their end-of-life dates, and they’ve been patched and retrofitted about as far as possible. This is a government-run company, though, so common sense doesn’t really come into play, and the powers-that-be had decided it was time to retrofit some of them once again. I was expected to design a method to overhaul them, so the facilities would pull in even more energy per gallon of water than the current models gave us. This wouldn’t be a problem for new construction, but retrofitting dams already nearly a century old, and in at least one case older? Well, I’d always liked a challenge but this was a tall order.
Bash called again Thursday night and we talked nearly an hour. Nothing specific at first, just about some of the cool parts of Chattanooga, things around town he thought I’d enjoy. Then, he told me some of the story of how Gen and Duke had come together. I asked about Brain and Harmony, but he said there was a lot of club business wrapped up in that story, and it was probably something Brain and Harmony should tell me.
I wasn’t sure what to say, and his voice softened as he said, “I trust you, Princess. Know you won’t tell the DA anything about us he doesn’t need to know. This isn’t about that. It’s a long, sordid, ugly story, and thankfully it has a beautiful ending, but it isn’t my story to tell.”
“Harmony invited me out to their place, said she’d teach me to ride a horse. I told her it wasn’t a good idea, but couldn’t tell her it’s because I’m a wolf and I’ll terrify her horses.”
“Brain has worked with them, and they’re good with most of us — as long as we approach slowly and feed them, it doesn’t take long to get them to chill out. Since you’re Bud’s daughter, she’s probably already figured out you’re a werewolf but she won’t say anything to you about it.”
“She knows about us? What about Gen?”
“Yeah, they both know. Brain shares a lot with Harmony as far as club shit. Duke doesn’t share much with Gen, so watch what you say around her.”
“First, I don’t know about any club shit. Second, even if I did, I learned as a child not to talk to anyone about it — even the ol’ladies. I could talk to my mom or dad, and some things, I couldn’t even talk to Mom about.”
“You picked up on more than you should’ve over the years, working in the shop.”
I chuckled. “First time Dad forgot to send me home early enough at a party, I think I was in maybe fourth or fifth grade. Talk about having all your questions answered at once.”
He chuckled and I suddenly had the nerve to ask something I’d wanted to know since I’d first seen it. Maybe it was because we were on the phone where he couldn’t see me, maybe it was just because it was Bash, and I’d once been able to talk to him about anything. “When you, ummm….” Fuck, I needed to just ask it and not stutter. Dad and Mom had both always hammered in how you never show anyone your weaknesses. I steadied my breath and sounded much stronger and totally normal as I asked, “Do you enjoy it, when you discipline the girls?”
He was quiet a few seconds, and suddenly I wished I’d asked in person, so I could see his expression. His voice was soft, almost a little dangerous, as he asked, “What did you see, Princess?”
“I saw Dad do it a few times, other guys do it, too. Mom usually got me out of the room before it happened, but I saw the girls standing in the corner ahead of time with their ass on display plenty, even if I only saw the actual discipline maybe a dozen times. If you’re asking if I ever saw you, personally, then yeah — I saw you taking a belt to them more than once, and once I saw you using your hand on someone when it looked like it was just the two of you, so I don’t think it was a club thing.”
He sighed. “Yeah, sometimes I enjoy it, but you never should’ve seen it. You have to know I’d never lift a hand to you like that, right?”
I said, “Of course,” but what I was really thinking was, “But what if I wanted you to?”
Chapter Eight
Angelica
Thomas picked me up at seven and took me out to a nice restaurant. I hadn’t been sure about what to wear, so I’d gone for dressy casual with a hint of sexy. My mom had dressed like a typical biker’s ol’lady, in tank tops and tight blue jean shorts in the summer, and low cut shirts with tight jeans in the winter.
I’d experimented with fashion in high school, and then landed on my style in Massachusetts, where no one knew I’d grown up in a motorcycle club. My closest friend up north was one of the guys at the shop, my second closest friend was one of the guys I had a lot of classes with. Both of them thought my dad owned a classic car shop in Georgia, and neither knew anything about the MC.
So, I’d had two basic styles — loose-ish jeans and fashionable but not-too-tight tees to work in the shop, and upper-class snobby fashion-forward clothes at school and around campus. I had a few skin tight slut outfits I wore into Boston when I just wanted to get laid, but I wore a coat over them while in Cambridge, so no one saw.
So, tonight I wore fancy black pants. The kind that zip on the side so there are no seams in the front or back. I wore a flowing silk shirt, slightly low cut so a touch of cleavage showed, but not much. This shirt teased as it showed my figure, moving and shifting so you could see parts of it at a time, but not all of it. My jewelry was understated, and my hair was down and had actually done what I wanted it to.
We had dinner at an upscale, super expensive restaurant — the kind without dollar amounts on the menu, because if you need to know, you shouldn’t be there. Afterwards, he took me to an appropriately snobby bar for drinks.
We’d flirted and danced around the possibilities of sex at dinner, and then upped the conversational banter at the bar. We stayed completely away from the subject of my father and the club, and I almost forgot why I wasn’t supposed to like
him.
Because I really did like him. He was smart, funny, sexy, and his kisses had the promise of so much fucking more.
So, I was probably pushing for more myself when I asked, “How do I know you don’t keep separate residences so you can keep a girlfriend at your house on the mountain, and then bring random pieces-of-ass to your apartment for a quick screw?”
Thomas hadn’t cussed around me the first time, so I was keeping my language mostly clean as well. Like my mama taught me — there’s a time and place for everything, and you have to know when cussing isn’t appropriate.
“So, maybe I should take you to my home on the mountain, let you see for yourself?” His voice was low, deep, and once again gave me the promise of all he could do to me.
“Maybe you should.” I held his gaze, let him see what I was offering.
He let the gaze hold long enough I worried he might not want to take me home, but then his lips were on mine, kissing me, dominating me, daring me not to submit to him. My wolf almost sat up and argued, but then rolled over inside me, offering her belly. Thank goodness, because I wanted to roll over and spread my legs. I wanted this man to take charge, to fuck me until I couldn’t walk straight.
And, maybe even spank me, but that was just crazy talk.
He pulled me out of the bar, holding me by the hand, and put his arm around my waist when we reached the parking lot. He drove a sleek, black Lexus, and he walked me to the passenger door. His gaze held me a few seconds, and he touched my cheek, caressing his way to my lips with a light touch before dropping his hand and giving me a light peck.
“I’m an elected official, which means I’m both a politician and a lawyer, so I’m hoping you’ll take it in stride when I ask you to sign a non-disclosure agreement before we have sex?”
Well, if that wasn’t a slap in the face, reminding me why seeing him was a terrible idea. “And if I come up with one for you to sign? Saying you can’t use anything you learn about the RTMC through me, against them?”
He shook his head. “Conflict of interest. I could lose my position for signing it.”
I chuckled. “Not really a problem, because you won’t learn anything about them from me, no matter what.” I sighed, considering how I felt about his request, and finally said, “I’m wondering if this means you’re kinky. I mean, it’s kind of expected a single man is gonna have sex with the people he dates, so the legal shit shouldn’t be necessary unless you’re a freak in bed, right?”
Something in his eyes shifted, and I suddenly realized I was right. His arousal level changed, too. Not necessarily higher, but different. There was also caution, though, and he asked, “And if I do turn out to be a freak in bed, will that be a problem?”
I shook my head as my stomach turned a slow somersault and my heartbeat sped. “Depends on the kind of freak you are. If you like to wear women’s panties, you may as well take me home.” I gave him what I hoped was a sexy grin. “Somehow, I don’t think that’s the case, though.”
He chuckled, and my clit reacted as if his mouth had been around it — the vibrations traveled straight to it, and it pulsed in time to my heart. “Smart girl. If you’re sure, and if you’re good with signing, I’ll take you now.”
The ride up the mountain should’ve been awkward, but he pointed out roads and landmarks as we drove, explaining which were the main routes through town, and were important to remember. There was a crazy house that looked like a UFO about halfway up the mountain, and we laughed about it as he manipulated the hairpin turn around it, so we could see it from several angles.
I’d had wine with dinner, and then had tequila shots at the bar, but of course I was sober. He thought I should be tipsy, but I wasn’t in the mood to pretend, so I didn’t.
Turns out, it was a good call because he gave me a fucking sobriety test before he handed over the agreement, saying if I was drunk when I signed it then I could claim it wasn’t valid.
I’d expected it to be pages and pages long, but it was front and back of one legal sized sheet of paper, and while written in legal-speak, it’d been dumbed down so the average person could be expected to understand what they were agreeing to. Basically, I couldn’t talk to anyone about our sex life, or about anything I learned about his personal life that the general public wasn’t aware of.
Every couple of years throughout my life, my dad had made me talk with one of the club’s lawyers, so I could be taught how to respond should the cops ever question me.
Also, the recommendations for elective classes that went well with an engineering degree had included a full year of contract law, so I probably knew a little more than the average citizen.
So, below his text and above the signature line, I wrote in, “Both signatures below indicate both parties are bound by the terms of this agreement.”
I looked at him and said, “You sign first, then I will. This doesn’t say anything about the RTMC, it’s only about what you can say about me, personally, and that shouldn’t affect your career. I’m only asking you to be bound to the same terms you’re binding me to.”
He looked at the paper, then me, considering. “I knew you were smart, but… wow. I’m impressed, Angelica. Would you believe you’re the first to turn this around on me?” He leaned down, signed the paper, and handed the pen to me saying, “Fair is fair.”
I signed it, put the pen down, and said, “Your house is beautiful. Don’t suppose I can get the grand tour?”
I’d done my own research on him, this week, and discovered he’d gone from making more than a quarter million dollars a year, to taking a job that paid eighty grand a year but gave him a lot of political clout. He’d run unopposed, and there were some rumors about other people being paid off to keep from running against him. His house was way too big for his current salary, but he’d had it a while, so it was likely he’d bought it back when he made the big bucks.
The downstairs was a big, open floorplan, obviously designed for entertaining. When we made it outside, the pool looked so inviting, I took my shirt and pants off, and dove in with only my panties and bra. I didn’t do a strip tease, didn’t take my time… just matter-of-factly disrobed with a crooked smile, as if this were a totally normal thing to do.
I came up with a scream, and proclaimed, “Holy hell the water is cold! What the fuck? Do you put ice cubes in it or something? Shit!”
He chuckled and squatted down, still six feet from the edge. “Temps are a lot cooler on the mountain than the valley. I just opened the pool a few days ago, and the heater pump didn’t start. Someone’ll be here in the next couple of days to replace it. Take your bra off for me, Angelica.”
The final sentence was an order, and heat shot through my veins, despite the cold. I reached back to obey, but then paused as I asked, “And if I don’t?”
He shook his head. “We haven’t negotiated anything yet, so nothing. Lets get you into a warm shower before you get hypothermia, and then we’ll talk. I can put your undies in the dryer, and give you a tee and some sweats to wear.”
What the fuck? He wasn’t going to push for sex now that I was nearly naked? Was fine with me not taking my bra off after he’d ordered me to? And was offering to give me clothes?
Suddenly, I was no longer interested, and I purposefully didn’t allow myself to shiver or show weakness as I came up the steps and out of the water. “No, that’s okay. If you can just give me a towel, I’ll get dried off and you can take me home.”
He sighed. “Get warm and dry, give me fifteen minutes to explain, and if you still want to go home, I’ll take you.”
I accepted the towel he offered, and dried off as I said, “I’ve survived Massachusetts winters, I don’t think I’m the average southerner anymore. No need for a hot shower.” I wrapped the towel around me, accepted a second towel, and wrapped my hair up in it. I might not need clothes, but a hair dryer would be nice, if he wasn’t going to take me home.
“I like to be in control in bed. If you were mine, the trip into the
pool would’ve netted you a spanking, the cussing would’ve added to the spanking, and then refusing to take your bra off likely would’ve resulted in either nipple clamps or a breast flogging. But, you haven’t agreed to be mine, so nothing will happen.”
In the MC, a man offering to make you ‘his’ meant something huge, and I needed clarification.
“Define what you mean by the word mine, please?”
He grinned, heat flaring in his eyes. “All of that, and the word mine is what you ask about?”
I lifted my eyebrows in answer, and he said, “For now, it’ll mean you belong to me in bed, under whatever terms we negotiate. Later, it can mean more, but for tonight, it just means you do as I say in bed.”
“No, I think you meant more, because you said there would’ve been consequences for things I did in the pool.”
He tilted his head, considering me, and said, “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Okay, when you’re in my home, or I’m in your home.”
More heat shot through me, and I was both relieved and disappointed. I wasn’t ready to be claimed by him in the way a biker would, because I didn’t think I liked him that much… and yet, the idea he’d protect and defend me out in the real world hadn’t been all bad, either. I tilted my head and asked, “So, no cussing? Really? Even during orgasm? Cause I’m not sure I can keep from it, then.”
“No cussing, even during orgasm, or you get a spanking. Do you know what a safeword is?”
A spanking? My libido perked up, my clit came to life despite the cold, and my already pebbled nipples tightened even more. I still managed to keep my voice even as I answered, “Yeah, kind of. Or, I guess I understand the concept? I’ve never needed one, so maybe you should explain, just to make sure there’s no confusion.”
Bash, Volume I (Rolling Thunder Motorcycle Club Book 3) Page 6
