“Like that would have helped,” Troy shot back. He turned to Pa. “Lizzie left because she couldn’t deal with the violence. She doesn’t want Snake beaten. Don’t order a hit on Animal or hurt his sister, or Lizzie will hate you forever.”
Pa looked uncertainly at Hawg. “What do you think? I want my daughter home. She doesn’t have to marry Snake, since the fool can’t keep his dick to himself. We have other good men in the club.”
Right. Because Lizzie would really want another Slayer after this.
“Like I said,” Hawg said, picking the grenade back up off the desk and throwing it from hand to hand, “how about I pay the little sister a visit, since lover boy, here, couldn’t get anything out of her except pussy.”
“Won’t do any good,” Troy said, trying to keep his cool and not jump up and flatten the ass-wipe.
“Wrong. She can get Lizzie on the phone,” Pa said. “That would do a lot of good.”
“Leave. The girl. Out of this,” Troy said, his temper about to boil over.
“You living with her?” Hawg asked smugly. “She your woman? Because if you’re not shacking up, club rules don’t apply.”
All right, fine. If that was how it had to be played, so be it.
“Stacey is mine. You fuck with her, you fuck with me.” Troy moved so fast Pa and Hawg didn’t see it coming.
He grabbed the grenade out of Hawg’s hand, spun so his back was to them, and lightning fast unscrewed the top, removed the fuse, and screwed the top on again so it looked intact. By the time he’d turned back to them, holding up the grenade, Pa was just reaching for his gun.
Troy loomed over Hawg. “See this? You touch my woman, you go near her or threaten her, you’ll be eating this.”
Pa had gone fifty shades of pale. “Put it down, son.”
Troy ignored Pa because it was Hawg who had taken the notion to visit Stacey, and he could be a cruel bastard. “Do I make myself clear, Hawg?”
Hawg was quivering, but it didn’t stop him being a smart-ass. “You won’t detonate that thing.”
“Want to test me?” He pulled the pin and dropped the grenade in Hawg’s lap. “Touch Stacey and I will kill you.”
“Holy shit!” Hawg tried to jump out of his chair, but Hawg’s jumping days were over. The chair broke, and he crapped his pants.
Pa dived under his desk.
Troy walked out with a grim smile, listening to them scream like little girls.
The gratification was short-lived. Now he’d gone and done it. After that, there was no way he could leave Stacey alone in her house.
Looked like the princess was about to see him again…whether she liked it or not.
Chapter Sixteen
Sleep was evasive. Stacey pulled the covers up to her chin, feeling like a small child. She’d left a light on in the hallway next to her bedroom, but it didn’t chase the fear away. She was totally exhausted from the terror of the day, but was still wide-eyed and jittery, listening for every creak, every groan, as the wind whipped around the house. Even wedging the chest of drawers against the front door hadn’t made her feel safe.
In her rational mind, she understood the motivation for Troy’s actions, but she didn’t agree with his caveman methods. Instead of diplomacy or negotiation, he’d moved straight to terror tactics. Yes, she’d seen contrition in his eyes afterward, but she still didn’t trust him.
Worse. The threat of his other motorcycle club brothers worried her. He’d warned they might come after her. He’d told her to leave town. But New Orleans was her home now. She was determined not to run away scared just because Troy wanted her to go back to New York.
She tried deep breathing for what seemed like hours, and finally, her eyelids drifted shut, and she started to fall into a dream. In it, Troy walked into her bedroom as if he belonged there and put down a backpack.
“You need a bodyguard,” he said, his dream voice softer than its normal blunt cadence.
“As if I’d choose you if I did,” she murmured.
“I’m your best choice. I’m a professional.”
She let out a sleepy snort. “Yeah, a professional jerk.”
“Not nice, princess. No one understands what you need better than I do.”
He got that right. When it came to sex, he knew what he was doing. She’d give him that much.
She tried to awaken, to tell him to get lost because she knew he wasn’t real. It was just her mind sorting out her hideous day.
He bent to unzip his boots and toed his way out of them, then unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time to reveal his sculpted, rock-hard abdomen. And her traitorous body remembered the sensation of him moving over her.
She didn’t want to crave him, not even in her dreams. But as the mattress dipped beside her and his strong arms pulled her close, she wanted to sink into the fantasy of him. The way he fucked was a gift.
Already his hand was sliding between her legs, and she opened them, adoring him playing with her clit. He made a little thrumming noise of pleasure as he kissed along her collarbone…which somehow didn’t fit with the dream.
Her eyes snapped open.
Crap. He was in her bed. For real. All six feet of his hard, toned, male body.
She opened her mouth to scream, and his hand clamped over it. “Don’t, princess. You’ll wake the neighbors.”
Heart in her throat, she tried to scramble out of the bed, but he wrapped his thigh over her hips, pinning her to the bed.
“I’m going to take my hand off your mouth. Think you can contain your excitement over being with me, and not make a sound?”
Was he kidding?
She thrashed and cried out, and he wrapped his arm around her torso, his grip viselike, until finally, exhausted, she stopped.
“Calm down, princess. I’m not here to hurt you.”
She’d heard that line before. At least there were no alligators around. Cautiously, he took his hand from her mouth.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded. “You’re like a recurring nightmare.”
“Now, that’s not a very nice welcome. Especially as I’m moving in with you.”
She glared at him incredulously. “Are you insane? You are not moving in with me. Get off.”
He did as she asked, and she scrambled to a sitting position and turned on the light. She reached into her nightstand drawer, grabbed her asthma puffer, and sucked in deeply. Then she gulped down her bedside glass of water. Her heart was still hammering, and she felt alarmed from the shock of finding him next to her.
“Why are you really here?” she gritted out.
“Call me crazy for you.” He gave her that enigmatic smile that made her want to smash his face in.
“Crazy, yes. For me? No way. You don’t have feelings.” She banded her arms over her chest.
“Seems like you’re wrong. I couldn’t stand spending one night away from you. The fact is, I’m worried about you being here all alone.”
“If you think I’m going to fuck you to ease your concern, think again. It won’t work. I know what a cruel asshole you are.”
He smiled. “But you’ve been tossing and turning. You need help getting to sleep.”
“You’ve been watching me?”
That did it. She punched him. Right in the mouth. Not hard enough to split his lip. She wished it had been, but she’d never hit anyone before, not even Brian when they were younger and he was teasing her. Her knuckles cracked, and she cried out.
“Is that foreplay?” Troy asked, not even rubbing his mouth.
Her knuckles hurt so much she had to work not to cry. Maybe she’d broken a bone.
He reached over and massaged her hand, paying special attention to the two knuckles that ached the most. “You really need to learn to punch properly,” he said evenly. “For starters, don’t tuck your thumb inside your fingers. It cushions the blow.”
He gave her a solicitous look that made him appear incredibly handsome and charming.
She na
rrowed her eyes. “You have no intention of keeping your promise, do you? I want to attack you. I want to shred your face with my nails. I’ve never hated anyone as much as you.”
He flopped onto the bed and opened his arms wide. “Go ahead.”
She blinked. “What? You want me to hit you?”
“Anything goes except eye-gouging. And my cock and balls are off-limits for rough play. Well, unless I’m about to come. Then you’d be surprised what punishment you can mete out on me. Pain heightens my pleasure.” He smiled. “I still have a lot to teach you.”
“Enough!”
His smile widened. His look was devastating, mostly to her willpower.
She gathered her wits.
“Answer. My. Question. Why are you here?” she asked through gritted teeth.
He turned on his side, and she didn’t miss the way his arm muscles bulged as he supported his weight, or how his abdomen tensed, exposing his six-pack, or the fact that he was already semi-erect.
Something in her rippled with pleasure. She ignored it.
“It seems we have a problem,” he said calmly. “Pa is still blaming Animal for Lizzie’s desertion.”
Stacey pushed out a breath of annoyance. “How thick is he? Why doesn’t your damn sister call your father and tell him what’s going on? Tell him about that revolting ex-boyfriend of hers.”
“Not news. Turns out a lot of the men are fucking Gabriella’s whores, so it’s not only a Snake problem.”
Why was she not surprised? “Do you?” she asked, disgusted. She hoped his answer was yes, so she could hate him even more…even as a small part of her fervently prayed he’d deny it.
He lifted the fingers that he had been stroking to his lips and sucked them. “Nah. I like fresh, sweet pussy that I can lick all day and fuck all night.”
“You’re repulsive.”
Despite her words, her sex clenched at the thought of his clever tongue and the orgasms that would follow, leaving her high and not thinking of anything but him.
“You don’t know the half of it.” He raised winged eyebrows.
The moment he became flirty, he was thinking sex. She wasn’t falling for it. Not again. “Leave. I don’t want you here.”
“Actually you do. Since Lizzie’s still not answering Pa’s calls, you need me. You see, bikers have a kind of code of honor.”
She snorted. “I know all about that.”
He reached over, grasped her chin, and forced her to look at him. His expression was serious. “Actually, you don’t. They don’t harm family, wives, or partners.”
She swallowed. “So?”
“Pa and Hawg, the club’s VP, both think I was too soft on you. They believe you know where Animal is hiding Lizzie. Hawg is certain he could do a better job of getting information out of you. He likes using a knife to make his victims talk.”
“That’s insane.” Her chest tightened, and she grabbed her puffer from the bedside table, clutching it tightly. “What am I supposed to do?”
Her mind raced with alternatives. She needed to stay in New Orleans. She’d inherited a potentially profitable business, and she didn’t want to blow this opportunity. Sure, she had money in a trust fund coming from her grandparents, but that wouldn’t be until she was twenty-five.
She desperately wanted to give running Dad’s business a go. When he’d shown her the books, she’d realized she could make a good living. She wanted to be financially independent. She might never get another chance.
But someone was stealing from the business, and if she left town, it would go under and she’d lose her whole inheritance, seeing as Brian clearly didn’t give a damn.
Troy rested his head on his hand, watching her with those dark eyes of his. “You can let me share your bed until Lizzie comes back. That’ll keep you safe.”
“By pretending to be your girlfriend?” She pressed her hand over her forehead. She couldn’t believe she was even considering his outrageous proposition.
But did she have a choice? She didn’t want to die. Or worse.
“Oh, I’ll be fucking you, so it’ll be real.” He shrugged. “It’s not as if we haven’t done it before.”
Somehow, this bad boy bastard was worming his way into her life again. Annoying as he was, his confidence appealed to her. He was great in bed, and he damn well knew it.
“Like hell, you will.” Even as she rejected him, a tremor of desire spread through her body. “I didn’t start this mess. I shouldn’t have to pay the price.”
He winked. “Don’t worry. I won’t be charging you for the pleasure. Don’t look so sorry for yourself. I promise you’ll want every orgasm I give you.”
She ignored Troy’s blatant sexual comments. “Why do you even care? Why don’t you go live your life and forget all about me?”
He couldn’t seem to leave her alone. A part of her wanted to hear that he had feelings for her, even if she didn’t want him.
He moved closer so his body was touching hers. She could feel the heat of him through her nightgown.
“I’ve seen enough killing,” he said, his bedroom eyes turning somber. “I don’t like collateral damage.”
Wow.
“That’s it? That’s the best you can do? You expect to invade my life and have sex with me, and all you can talk about is collateral damage? You have the emotional IQ of a gnat.” She shoved at his chest. “Move to the other bedroom and stay out of my way. I want nothing to do with you and that freak biker gang you belong to.”
He rolled on top of her, grasped both her hands, and pressed them above her head. Her silk nightgown had crept up around her hips, and she could feel his erection pressing into her.
He gazed down at her, his expression unreadable. “Would you have preferred it if I said I love you? That I worship the ground you walk on?” He leaned in and kissed her, pressed his firm lips to hers as if he owned her. She didn’t open her mouth, even though her traitorous body was sizzling with need.
Turning her face aside, she managed to get away from his seeking lips. “Get off me, you unfeeling bastard.”
He grinned and nipped her bottom lip. “That’s the spirit.”
“Ouch!” she cried, twisting around, trying to shove him off.
“Don’t wriggle too much, princess. It’s making me incredibly horny. I haven’t had sex since this morning.” He moved his hips from side to side and managed to wedge himself between her thighs.
“I hate you. I hate the way you play with my emotions.” She dug her fingernails into his hands, which were still relentlessly holding hers.
“No, you don’t. You’re mad at me. There’s a difference.”
“You terrorized me. Have you any idea how much that hurt me?”
“The one you should be mad at is Animal. He left you in this mess and ran off with my sister. You know I scared you because that was the only way of getting through to Lizzie. You were never in any danger. But now I know Lizzie is safe, and I’m going to make it up to you.”
“I don’t want you to. It’s just sex that binds us.” She looked into his eyes and somehow knew her bond to this man went far deeper, even though she couldn’t see the cord.
“Great sex,” he corrected. He nibbled on the base of her neck, right where it met her shoulders.
“So? Leave me alone, and I’ll forget about you.” She squirmed, wanting him despite everything screaming in her, telling her not to.
“No, you won’t, princess. I plan to give you so many awesome orgasms you’ll forgive me for introducing you to my pet alligator.”
“Not a pet. A monster.” She struggled again, but he kept her hands pinned.
He kissed her neck with slow, teasing kisses, sucking on her tender skin and sending shivers of pleasure down her spine.
“Most men would just say sorry,” she grumbled.
His cock nudged at her, his hips moving slowly, so the head was rubbing against her clit. “I’m not most men.”
She gave an involuntary gasp. Little shivers
of excitement coursed through her each time his cock slid over her clit. How was it he could do this to her? He infuriated the hell out of her with his complete lack of boundaries…but his touch was addictive.
She wanted him, and he knew it.
“You’re wet,” he said.
“It happens sometimes. Don’t assume it’s anything to do with you.”
“Don’t be grumpy. Tell you what. Seeing as we both need to get to sleep, and sex is a great way to make that happen, I’ll go down on you and promise I’ll only fuck you if you beg.”
“Get out of my room. I don’t need you to go to sleep.”
“But I need you. You’re too delicious to leave.” He ran one finger down her body, and her skin rippled like a cat being stroked. His expression softened as he moved down between her legs.
She should have stopped him.
He licked lightly at first, just over the hood of her clit, and she clenched her stomach muscles, unable to do a thing. The man was addictive, and she was already hooked.
She sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to shut him out. Impossible. Her whole body ached for his touch. She swore the man had something special about his hands and mouth because lust was completely blotting out her common sense. No amount of telling herself that this savage biker was bad for her was working.
“Thinking about my cock sliding into you yet?”
“I can do without it. I can do without you.”
His tongue slid under her hood. Her back arched and she gasped.
“Liar.”
He chuckled, then slid his tongue along her seam, lightly at first, not enough to part her inner lips, but enough to send a burst of desire shooting through her.
His erection was huge, and she wondered whether she could keep from begging for it. He’d felt so damn good last time.
He pressed his thumbs on her mons and opened her up. He put his lips to her sensitive folds and swirled his tongue over her clit. All thoughts ceased. Her hips rolled upward in response. There was simply no way she could concentrate on anything other than what the man was doing to her. He began to devour her, licking up and down her slit.
She opened her legs wide and began moving, matching his timing, as consistent as waves rolling in to shore. She moaned deeply with the pleasure of it, tossing her head from side to side. This was only the second time he’d done this to her, and she never wanted him to stop. When he speared her with his tongue, her back arched and she cried out, overcome with the eroticism of it. And the blissful pleasure.
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