by Lilly Atlas
“No worries. Bleach ought to take care of it. Hey, LJ,” he called to the prospect emerging from the van. “You and Fox wanna load him up? I’ll get started on clean up.”
“On it.” LJ, short for Little Jack, who was not little in the least, hopped in the driver’s seat and backed the van close to Bones who was ashen and whose chest was rising and falling in a shallow but rapid pattern.
“Need me to stick around?” Zach only asked because he knew they’d say no. No prospect worth his salt would make a patched member help with the shit detail. They’d appear lazy. Unwilling to pull their weight. Not brother material. Because if they weren’t willing to take on a menial job, how could they be trusted when shit got real?
“Nah, we got this. You did the hard part.” Screw stuck his head in the back of the van and pulled out a bucket and a gallon of bleach.
Zach snorted. “I had the fun part.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Screw barked out a laugh. “We need to be gentle with this guy or is it okay for him to get a bump or two on the way?”
“Treat him however you’d like. If he’d been more willing to talk, you could be at the bar drinking instead of cleaning his DNA off the ground. Told him I’d get him to a hospital. As long as he can speak well enough to give Shark my well wishes, I don’t care what condition he arrives in.”
Prospects had to be able to have a little fun sometimes.
“Sounds good. See you tonight at the lodge?” There was a big club bonfire that evening. Viper’s ol’ lady was turning twenty-five for about the thirtieth time.
“I’ll be there.” And if the stars aligned, he’d be able to talk Toni into coming with him.
He left Bones in the prospects’ capable, though not tender, hands.
With each mile that brought him closer to home, Zach’s excitement grew. Toni would still be out on her wraparound porch, wineglass in hand, enjoying the sunset. It had become her ritual. And while Zach had been too busy to pop over in the last week, he’d found some excuse to run to his house or past his house almost every evening.
Just for a glimpse of her. The woman who turned his head. The woman who accepted him and his brothers by allowing them in her family business without knowing a damn thing about them.
After making the twenty-minute trip, he slowed and turned into his long driveway. The house he’d grown up in was set about a hundred feet back from the road. Toni’s was even farther, another fifteen or so feet, so though they were next door neighbors, the houses weren’t side-by-side. His bedroom, however, lined up with a window in Toni’s living room.
Any excitement he’d been feeling died out when he realized she wasn’t in her usual spot. She wasn’t outside at all. Damn shame. The air was warm and the sky clear. Good day for sunset gazing.
“You’ve gotta be shitting me,” Zach muttered. Toni may not be outside, but she was in the house, visible through the window. And she had a visitor. A suit-wearing, douche bag of a man who wasn’t worth a smile from Toni.
Under her reserved exterior, Toni burned hot. Zach could sense it. For some reason, she was denying that part of herself, to him at least, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. And it didn’t mean it could be ignored forever. A man like the suit wouldn’t know what the hell to do with a woman like Toni. Wouldn’t know how to coax out the passion and fire she’d buried under a layer of seriousness.
Zach did.
Zach knew just how to tease a response out of Toni that would shatter her defenses and have her screaming his name.
And that’s exactly what he planned to do.
She just had to agree to let him touch her.
Chapter Ten
He’d actually done it.
Chris had shown up on her doorstep like he’d promised, both when he’d left and when he’d called a few days ago while she was working. While she was waiting on Zach’s table, to be exact.
Damn him.
“Chris,” she said, holding the door open and blocking the doorway. Half convinced it was going to be Zach paying an unexpected visit with a lame excuse like he needed some sugar, but really wanted to flirt, she’d flung the door open with far too much enthusiasm.
Zach had been on her mind each and every day. More specifically, his mouth had been on her mind. After he’d issued that challenge about kissing her, it was all she could do to keep her wits about her. And her vibrator in its drawer.
Yeah, she’d failed at that one.
“What are you doing here?” She kept her body in the doorway.
A frown marred Chris’s otherwise perfect face. He was handsome, she had to give him that. But in a refined, snobbish, moneyed kind of way. Not like Zach, who was…well, Zach was straight up hot. Rugged. Muscled. A little dangerous. The kind of man who would know exactly what to do with a woman. Whether that was to throw her down on the bed, or slam her against the wall…
And she was fantasizing about Zach again. Why?
Whatever the reason, her body reacted to her wayward thoughts and she had to resist the urge to stick her head in the freezer.
“I told you I was coming. Remember? I told you we had some space and it was time to discuss our relationship and future. Hit the reset button. Any of this ringing a bell?” Chris stepped closer, as though he expected her to move back and let him into the house.
She didn’t. He wasn’t welcome.
“And I told you, as I told you before you left here, that it wasn’t a break. It was a break up. I specifically asked you not to come.” This was the last thing she wanted to deal with. He was making her miss the sunset. “We broke up, Chris. I’m sorry if you’re hurt or upset, but my decision is final. There isn’t anything for us to discuss.”
He scoffed and had the gall to remove her arm from the door frame so he could push his way inside. “We didn’t break up, honey. You were upset about your parents and it made you emotional. Irrational. Not to mention the unwanted interruption by your thug neighbor. Now that you’ve had some time to get your head on straight, we can talk about it like adults.”
The snort that left her made his frown deepen. He was now standing in her living room, of course, wearing a perfectly pressed suit that seemed to defy the fact that he’d been on a plane only a short time ago. With no other choice but to deal with him, she released the door and let the screen slam shut. But she didn’t have to be happy about it.
Toni jammed her hands on her hips. “That’s rich coming from someone who not only wasn’t invited but isn’t wanted. And Zach may have interrupted us, but I’d already told you we were through and I repeated it to you on the phone the other day. So you can’t blame Zach for your actions.”
Chris advanced on her, and even though he wasn’t an intimidating figure, the hair on the back of Toni’s neck stood on end. Something about the look in his eyes screamed of desperation. Desperate people were unpredictable. “Seems like you and Zach got pretty friendly. You fucking him now?”
She gasped. “What? Geez, Chris. No, I’m not fucking him. Or anyone, for that matter. But you know what? If I wanted to fuck the whole damn MC, it wouldn’t be any of your business.”
Where on earth was this coming from? Wasn’t Chris the one who always said swearing was the mark of an uneducated person? Not that she agreed with the comment, since she could swear like a sailor when riled and quite enjoyed it, but to hear him ask if she was fucking someone was so unlike him. The unease she’d felt seconds before morphed into anger as she stood on her toes in an attempt to get in his face.
Instead of firing another insulting question at her, he threw his head back and laughed as though she’d told the funniest joke in the world. “That’d be just like a whore like you, wouldn’t it?”
“Excuse me?” The unease was back in full force. Unease and nausea as his comment hit a little too close to home. Could he know? Was is possible he knew about the mistakes of her past?
“Look at you,” he flung a hand in her direction. “What the hell are you wearing? You look like a
slut.”
Gazing down at herself, Toni fought for control of her tongue. And her fists. Ramming one into his arrogant mouth would feel great. “I’m wearing a halter top and cutoffs. I’m alone in my home and it’s hot out. What would you have me wear, thermals?” She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Hitting the jerk wouldn’t solve anything.
But boy, would it be satisfying.
“It gets hot in Chicago. You never dressed like that. Like you were for sale.”
For sale? Red clouded her vision. “Oh my God. Who are you? The clothing police? Do you even hear yourself?” She marched away and stared out the window. The sky was a gorgeous picture of pinks, purples, and oranges swirling as though an artist’s brush had created them. As had become custom, the sight brought an inner peace.
Something flickered in the corner of her field of vision. A squirrel or other small creature on Zach’s property drew her attention to his house. He had the habit of arriving home for a few minutes in the evenings when she was out on the porch. Probably going from his job at the gym to the clubhouse. He’d throw her a wave, run in his house, and be back on the bike before she fully had the chance to appreciate the view.
Would he do that tonight? Would he wonder why she wasn’t in her spot on the porch? Would he notice Chris’s car? She almost laughed out loud at the idea of Chris seeing the women that hung around the MC. If he thought she was a slut, his prude ass would drop dead right then and there.
“You know what I hear?” he asked after a few moments. “I hear you. Or I remember hearing you. ‘Fuck me harder, Chris. I want more, Chris.’” A look of disgust twisted his features as he spoke, mimicking her in a breathless tone.
How. Dare. He.
How dare he take what was supposed to be intimate, pleasurable, and special between them and turn it into something shameful. How dare he mock her desires. Sure, she liked sex. Liked it a little dirtier, a little rawer, a little rougher than he did. Hell, she just seemed to like it in general more than Mr. Missionary and Mr. Once-a-week did. He thought she was too much for him? If he only knew how much of her sexual self she suppressed when she was with him. How much she hid. How she squashed her own desires.
None of that really had anything to do with him. It was her own self-imposed restraint due to her past, but still. Nothing she asked of him, and nothing they shared, even bordered on kinky. It was as vanilla as it came.
If she was smart, she’d ask him to leave. Tell him the conversation was over and show him the door. But she was getting tired of always trying to do what was right. Always trying to pay penance for the way she’d lived her life as a teen. Instead of sticking with the character she’d created for herself, she said, “I’m sorry if my actually trying to find some enjoyment in having sex with you and your one boring position makes me a whore.”
Chris bent forward until his nose was millimeters away from hers. “You know what? My career is important. I’m a corporate attorney, for fuck’s sake. I can’t take you to meet clients, or to company functions like this. You’re an embarrassment, and I wouldn’t be caught dead with you on my arm.” His tone was low, threatening, but she wasn’t scared.
Fury is what she felt.
“So why the hell are you here?” she asked, throwing her hands up and taking three steps back. “Why would you claim we haven’t broken up if I’m such an embarrassment? If I’m such a whore. If you can’t stand to be seen with me.”
“Because I have no choice.” He spun and paced away from her, dropping to sit on her couch.
“No choice? This conversation is getting really tired, Chris. You have three seconds to explain yourself before I kick you out. Which is three seconds more than you deserve, considering the way you just spoke to me.”
He sagged like a balloon that just had its air let out. All the anger and ugliness he’d carried into her house disappeared and what remained was a defeated man. “They passed me by,” he said, in a voice so low she had to move closer to hear more. “Your uncle passed me by again for junior partner.”
A sheen of tears glistened in his eyes.
Mark never really discussed business with her. He kept his opinions about Chris’s work performance to himself. He was big on separating business from personal and thought running into Toni at firm functions and client wine-and-dines was enough line crossing. They didn’t need to talk about it afterward. She appreciated the distance, never wanting her relationship with Mark to cause Chris issues at the office.
As far Toni knew, her uncle never had any gripes about Chris’s work performance. But would he have mentioned if he did? Probably not. Though he let it be known he didn’t think Chris was the right man for Toni. Maybe that had something to do with poor performance at work and he’d never wanted to voice the concern.
With a sigh, she relaxed her posture and tried to be sympathetic to Chris’s troubles. “I’m sorry about that, Chris.” And she was. She understood spewing vile words under immense pressure. Words that would be regretted when the dust settled. But no amount of job strain gave him a pass for calling her a whore. Still, she’d try to deescalate the argument.
“I know you’ve been working yourself to the bone to make junior partner. And I can’t imagine how disappointed you feel, but if you came here hoping I’d have some insight into Uncle Mark’s thinking, you wasted your time. We don’t talk about work, especially your part in the firm. You know that.”
“Do you have any idea the pressure I’m under to make partner?”
Toni frowned and lowered herself to the couch next to him. “No, Chris. I honestly don’t. You’ve never really discussed it with me.”
“My father is displeased. He’s threatening to cut me off.” Chris dropped his head to his hands. “Everything’s a mess.”
None of this really made sense to her, but then she’d been on her own for a while. Independent and taking care of herself for years. “Chris, regardless of whether or not you made partner, you have a good career. You make good money. What does it matter if your father cuts you off at this point? You’ll survive just fine.”
Chris’s father was a jackass on a good day. He had money coming out his ears. Old money and plenty of status and prestige. He was a retired attorney himself and had worked on multiple newsworthy cases that rocketed his career to the big leagues.
“You just don’t understand.” Chris straightened. “It’s not about money. It’s about connections, status, power.”
He was right. She just didn’t get it.
“Well, Chris. I really am sorry things didn’t work out this time around, but that doesn’t mean you’ll never make partner. And I think you know we aren’t right for each other.”
“It doesn’t matter if we aren’t right for each other. We are going to be together.” There was a hardness to his voice that hadn’t been there moments ago, and the tinge of desperation was back.
“What?” She shook her head and screwed up her face. It was like he’d lost his sense in the past week.
“We are not done with each other. You will come home and we will continue to date. You’ll dress better. Classy again. You’ll accompany me when I need it. You’ll act like a lady. And you’ll put in a good word with Mark. More than that. You’ll get him to make me a junior partner. That queer would do anything for you, wouldn’t he?”
Toni clenched her teeth so hard they squeaked. She’d never experienced anger like she was feeling in that moment. White-hot fury. If there was one thing she wouldn’t stand for, it was a homophobic attitude toward her uncle and his husband. Two of the most loving, supportive, and all around incredible people she’d ever met. Anyone would be lucky to have half as wonderful a relationship as they did.
With as much calm as she could muster, she stretched her hand toward the door. “It’s time for you to leave now, Chris.”
“No, Toni. You aren’t the one calling the shots here. I hold all the cards.” This wasn’t the man she knew. Wasn’t the man she’d shared meals with, spent her weekends wit
h, shared her goals and dreams with. This was a frantic man who’d do anything to get what he wanted. He’d lost the ability to be reasonable.
“What freaking cards, Chris? Ooo, what are you going to do? Tell everyone your monogamous girlfriend is a whore because she likes to be fucked? News flash, you’d have to admit that you couldn’t give a woman an orgasm with a roadmap and a set of instructions!” She was screaming and she didn’t even care.
A rap on the door made her spin and dropped her jaw. Zach’s bulky form filled the space on the other side of the screen. The jerk wasn’t even pretending he hadn’t been eavesdropping on the conversation. A giant smirk was plastered across his face.
Great. Just great.
What had she just screamed? Something about liking sex and Chris failing to satisfy her. All true, but mortifying.
Something like a combination of a growl and a whimper came from Chris. Like he was both warning off and intimidated by Zach at the same time. The intimidation she got, Zach would probably annihilate Chris with one half-powered punch.
But the warning? Did all men have to engage in pissing contests?
“What do you want, Zach?” she asked in a bright voice, as though false cheer could somehow erase the humiliation of what he’d overheard.
The smug grin only grew. Zach braced his arms on either side of the door frame and stared at her through the screen. Damn man. He had to know what he was doing, showing of the long, firm bulge of his biceps and stretching his shirt across his fitness model shoulders.
“You weren’t in our spot. I came to see if you needed my help.” His gaze flicked to Chris before dismissing him and returning to Toni. “I’m glad I did because, from the sound of it, you really need my help.”
Our spot? Might as well wave a red flag in front of an angry bull. Ugh. Why did a grin so smug she’d want to slap it off anyone else look like a promise of sex and sin on Zach?
