by Joanna Wylde
“Yeah,” he told her. “I’ll take an IPA, whatever you have on tap. You want another?”
I shook my head and the waitress moved on to the next table.
“This is really awkward,” I said, giving a nervous laugh.
He held a hand up to his ear. Great. He couldn’t hear me.
“This is really awkward,” I yelled. “I mean, I know we know each other, but meeting in person is weird.”
Liam’s mouth cracked in a panty-wetting grin.
“It’s different,” he said back, voice pitched to carry. “But I like it. It’s good to finally be in the same room. Are your friends here?”
“They’re dancing,” I told him, my voice faltering. Jesus, at this rate I’d end up with a sore throat from trying to talk so loud. “They want to inspect you.”
He grimaced.
“Of course they do,” he answered. “Sophie and Kimber, right?”
I nodded, impressed that he remembered their names.
“How do you know them?”
“Um, Sophie is … hmm, hard to explain,” I said, thinking about the Reapers, her weird nonrelationship with Ruger and all the reasons I hadn’t told Liam my full situation earlier. I took another sip of my drink, trying to decide what to say. Dad didn’t like me talking about the club, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that we were in one. Not really …
Fuck it. If the club was going to scare Liam off, might as well get it over with.
“You know, there’s something I’ve never told you,” I said loudly across the table.
He raised a brow.
“Is this the part where you confess you’re actually a man?” he shouted right as the music died. Heads turned and it was just like high school again. Everyone was looking at me. Liam glanced around at our audience, then winked at me. “’Cause if you are, I’m totally into that. Whoever did your boob job is a fuckin’ artist.”
I burst out laughing as the next song started.
“No,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “But there’s a reason I haven’t dated very much. My dad’s part of a motorcycle club. The local president, actually. Anyway, one of the guys in the club has a nephew, and Sophie’s the kid’s mom.”
Liam straightened, his face turning blank. I don’t know what I expected … Concern, maybe? A snide remark? Somehow the total lack of expression in his eyes was worse.
“What’s the matter?” I asked. Damn it, carrying on a conversation in this place was nearly impossible. Had I made a huge mistake? Shit. Would Liam be like all the other guys, too scared of Dad to make a move?
He shook his head.
“Sorry,” he said. “Just remembered something I forgot to do earlier. Hey, you want to get out of here?”
“Um, I’m not sure—”
“That came out wrong,” he told me, smiling again. Had I been imagining things? “I meant, do you want to go to another bar? Public place, lots of witnesses, but maybe a little quieter? I want to really talk to you and it’s kind of hard in here. There’s a place down the street I like. Owner is an old friend of mine.”
I frowned.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I don’t want to leave Sophie and Kimber.”
“We don’t have to,” he yelled. “No worries.”
I smiled, thankful he wasn’t going to push me. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I dug it out to find a text. Several of them, actually, including one from Liam telling me he would be early. It’d come in at the same time Sophie sent the picture. Oops.
KIMBER: He hre yet? I want to check out his ass. See if its worthy … think he’ll let me touch? I think we shud make him dance with us!!!!!
I frowned.
“Everything okay?” Liam shouted. I studied his handsome, concerned face and pictured his reaction when Kimber Davis, Sexual Bloodhound, started groping him on the dance floor. I wasn’t sure what would be worse—if it bothered him or if he liked it. Either way, it would embarrass the shit out of me.
“Let’s hit the other place,” I hollered. “You’re right, it’s too loud in here.”
“Text your friends and finish your drink,” he said. “Let’s go talk for real.”
Liam’s choice surprised me.
I don’t know what I expected, but not some grotty little hole in the wall my dad would’ve loved. The sign outside said Mick’s, and the guy behind the bar looked like a giant pit bull. I’d never been here before, and for good reason.
It wasn’t the kind of place you went with your girlfriends.
The room was long and narrow, with a bar along the left wall and rows of high-backed wooden booths with battered tables down the right. Liam held my hand, gently tugging me toward the back. The place wasn’t exactly busy, mostly guys who looked rougher than your typical Saturday night club boy. A lot rougher, actually. Hell, they could’ve been Reapers. Fortunately, I grew up around tough guys and they didn’t scare me. I wouldn’t want to come in here alone, but I felt safe with Liam.
“Here we go,” he said, stopping at the last booth. I slid in, and then he sat down next to me, his long thigh pressing against mine. I could smell his scent, too. Clean and fresh, with just a hint of strong soap.
“Lots of witnesses, but privacy, too,” he added.
Sitting so close felt like being a little drunk. My hormones were all happy and I wanted to reach down and grab his leg. Instead I forced myself to make small talk.
“So how long are you in town?” I asked, appreciating the fact that I didn’t have to shout.
“Depends,” he replied, smiling at me.
“On what?”
“Whether there’s a reason to stay.”
Oh, I hoped there would be a reason. Despite how nervous he made me, Liam made Painter look like a Ken doll.
“What about work?” I asked, realizing I didn’t know what he did for a living. How had we never talked about that?
“It’s flexible,” he replied. “I guess you’d call me a freelancer. I take on jobs as needed, and it seems to balance out in the end. Have you heard back yet on that aesthetician’s program you applied to down in Portland?”
“Not yet,” I said, feeling sheepish. I’d been planning on sending my application for two weeks now but kept putting it off because I didn’t know how to tell Dad I was considering a move. “I only sent in the paperwork a few days ago. I kept losing different parts of it, and …”
My voice trailed off as he reached up to touch my cheek, running the back of his big finger across my skin. Pure fire. I couldn’t think. I didn’t want to think.
And I really, really didn’t want to talk about getting my aesthetician’s license.
“I’m gonna kiss you,” he said. I nodded, and then his lips covered mine.
Fuck small talk.
The kiss started out softly. Liam threaded his fingers into my hair, tracing his tongue over my lips, parting them gently, almost worshipfully. I opened for him, my eyes falling closed as he moved in. I’d been kissed lots of times, despite Dad’s reputation for shooting my boyfriends (which was totally unfair—he’d only shot one, and he swore it was an accident). This was a whole different world of kissing.
I lost myself in Liam’s lips, drifting along on a wave of sensation that grew as I forgot the room around us. Then his fingers clutched my hair and the kiss hardened. His head slanted across mine, taking instead of asking. My nipples tightened, desperate for more. I reached down and found his thigh. It felt like solid rock. My fingers dug deep into the muscle and he groaned, hips shifting.
Seconds later, he broke free of my mouth and shoved the table across the booth floor, creating more space for us. Then he lifted me to straddle his lap.
“Liam, we can’t do this!” I hissed, eyes wide. Sure, people were pretty open around the Armory, but this was a public bar. “We’ll get thrown out.”
“Mick’s a friend,” he told me, eyes dark and intent. “Don’t worry about it.”
He leaned forward and nuzzled my breasts, which were conveniently located i
n front of his face. The corset served them up like a fucking buffet. Shit, were people watching us?
“Jesus, you got good tits,” he said, not sounding quite like himself. Rougher somehow. Then he slid a hand down my back and grabbed my ass, crushing me into his hips. I think my womb clenched. Or something did. If it wasn’t my womb, I had a very confused appendix. Liam grabbed my hair with his other hand and pulled me in for another kiss.
This one went straight past gentle, all hard and deep and full of desperate hunger. I shifted my hips, unconsciously rocking over the rapidly stiffening length of his cock. He responded by pushing up at me, grasping my hips. Eyes closed, I gave in to sensation. Even with all the fabric between us, my clit felt everything and was begging for more. I rocked harder, my desire for him blowing up like a match striking pavement.
Liam’s mouth tore away from me.
“Look at me,” he commanded, and I did. His eyes were dark pools of hunger, so intense my insides twisted. “Unhook the front of this corset thing you’re wearing. I want to see you.”
I shook my head, but his fingers dug into my hips, dragging me back and forth across his now-solid cock. Holy shit, that felt good.
“Do it,” he ordered. I nodded, forgetting why I’d protested.
I reached for the little hooks down the center of my corset, popping the top half of them open. My breasts spilled out. A small part of my brain screamed that anyone could see us, but when I glanced around, there was nobody. The high walls of the booth gave us total privacy and the tables across from us were empty.
Liam studied me carefully for a moment, then leaned forward and caught my left nipple with his teeth.
I shuddered, terrified that he’d bite me and that he wouldn’t, all at once.
No biting, though. Nope. He sucked it in deep, dropping his body lower on the bench. The hard edge of the table against my back didn’t make it easy, but somehow he managed to deepen my back-and-forth slide along the ridge of his erection. If it wasn’t for our pants, I’d have him inside me.
Stupid pants.
Liam groaned, then let me go abruptly. He lifted me by my hips and set me down on the bench next to him.
“Are we doing this?” he asked, his voice tight and tense.
I looked at him blankly. My clit wanted to know why we’d stopped, because she was not a happy camper about it. Neither were the girls up top. Liam took a deep, ragged breath, eyes intense.
“Are we having sex?” he asked bluntly. “Because if we aren’t, I need to go jerk off. Not trying to pressure you, Em, but it’s the fuckin’ truth.”
A wave of lust hit me hard, and I made my decision.
“Let me text my friends,” I said breathlessly. “Then we can go back to the hotel.”
“You sure?”
“Oh yeah,” I whispered. “I’m sure.”
I don’t know what I expected after that. Maybe a stately exchange of text messages with Sophie and Kimber, followed by all of us walking back to the hotel together. They’d meet him, we’d all laugh, and then when they quietly gave me a thumbs-up, I’d steal him away.
But Liam was a man of action.
He grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the booth, all but dragging me behind him as I clutched my corset closed in shock. To my surprise, we headed toward the back of the bar instead of the front door. Brushing past a muscular guy who slapped Liam on the back, I followed him down a darkened hallway. On our right were some dubious-looking bathrooms. On the left was a door, which Liam opened, pulling me in.
HUNTER
If I’ve learned one thing in this life, it’s that lying to yourself is a waste of time.
This hadn’t stopped me from pretending tonight was all about the club, and that Em was just a means to an end. Leverage against the Reapers.
It wouldn’t be the first time I fucked a chick for the Devil’s Jacks, and God knew taking her wouldn’t keep me up nights. I’d done far worse things, and that was a fact. But Christ, Em was gorgeous and even worse, she was funny and cute and I was pretty sure she’d taken over one whole region of my brain. About a week ago, I’d convinced her to send a picture of herself in bed. To hell with porn, that shy little pic of her wearing an old T-shirt did it for me every time.
There was a part of me that had whispered she couldn’t possibly be as hot as I remembered, or as sweet as she sounded on the phone. That’s what I wanted to believe—no, needed to believe.
But I’d taken one look at her in that bar and it was all over.
Now my dick was so hard I thought it might punch through my pants. Seriously. Complete loss of thinking power. I have never wanted to fuck a woman more in my life. And yeah, I’m a douche, but I hadn’t planned to actually screw her in Mick’s office. That was before I tasted her and realized I’d die if I didn’t get inside what I was pretty damned sure was the hottest snatch I’d ever feel clamped around my cock.
I slammed the door shut behind us, the dim glow of a single lamp lighting the little room. Thank Christ there was a couch in here. A longish leather one, and while it probably wasn’t the cleanest, it wasn’t the worst place I’d screwed a girl.
Em definitely deserved better. I didn’t care.
My mouth covered hers, my hands reaching down to grab her ass, hoisting her legs up and around my waist. Her hands dug into my hair and I felt her boobs against my chest and I shit you not—I nearly came. What the hell was it about this chick? Fuck, from the moment I’d first seen her last winter, I’d been obsessed. Talking to her on the phone was just the nail in the coffin, because the worst of it was I actually liked her. Burke would laugh his ass off if he could see me now—the coldest bastard in the club was officially pussy whipped.
At least for the moment.
I should’ve dropped her and taken off running while I still could. Instead I slammed her against the door, thrusting my cock up at her as if I could penetrate her through our clothing if I just tried hard enough. She tugged up my shirt. Then her fingers dug into the muscles of my back, nails scratching me as she dragged them downward.
Lines of sharp pain followed.
Impossibly, my dick got harder. Em looked hot as hell in those tight jeans of hers, but she needed to get them the fuck off before I stroked out. I’d do her hard and fast this first time—no way I could hold out. Fortunately, she was just as worked up as me, so odds were good she’d go off like a firecracker. Then I had every intention of dragging her back to the hotel and showing her just how many different ways I could make her come.
First I needed to free up some of that blood pooled in my lower body for my brain, though. Right now I couldn’t even remember how to breathe. I carried her over to the couch, dropping her down, and then covered her, our hips rubbing together in the hottest dry hump in history.
Jesus.
I really was gonna come in my pants.
I kissed her one last time, tasting how hot and sweet her mouth was, then forced myself to pull away.
“Never wanted to be inside anyone half as much as you, Em,” I told her, the words rough. Her blue eyes opened wide and her breath caught. Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink and I wanted to wrap her up and carry her off like a caveman or something. I rolled to the side, digging in my pocket for a condom.
“Jeans off, baby,” I added. “I can’t wait any longer.”
“I have to tell you something.”
I found the condom and reached for my fly, only half following her words. Goddamn she was hot … Boobs popped out, nipples flushed, eyes bright with excitement.
“No,” she said. “Seriously, I need to tell you something.”
“What?” I asked, wondering what the hell could be higher priority than getting naked. Then it hit me—she was a girl, she needed reassurance. Damned if I knew why, but they all did. “Hey, I didn’t just bring you here to screw you, babe. You mean something to me, I swear. But I can’t think right now. Can we talk later?”
She looked away and I started to get a sinking feeling. Shit. Some
thing was really wrong. I don’t know what bothered me more, the idea of blowing my mission or not blowing my wad.
No contest—to hell with the mission. This was about her cunt squeezing my cock.
“I haven’t done this before,” she said without meeting my eye.
“Fucked on the first date?” I asked her. “This isn’t like that, babe. I don’t know what you’re thinking, but I’m not—”
“Jesus, will you just shut up and listen to me?” she snapped, sitting up and swinging her legs off the couch. “Why does everyone in my life need to be so damn bossy?”
I stared at her, dick throbbing, confused as hell.
“I haven’t had sex before,” she said abruptly. “And I really like you and I totally want to do this, but I don’t want to do it on a dirty couch in a bar. Can you understand that?”
Now that caught my attention.
“The fuck? What do you mean, you haven’t had sex?”
“I mean I’ve Never. Had. Sex,” she told me, spacing out her words carefully. “True story. You got a problem with that? Because you’re looking at me like I’ve got herpes and that’s not working for me.”
I stilled, trying to wrap my brain around what she’d said. It was hard, given the lack of circulation. Then it sank in.
Shit. Em was mine. All mine. No other asshole had been inside that pretty little cunt—this was fuckin’ beautiful. I smiled slowly, running a hand through my hair.
“That kicks ass, babe,” I said, sinking down to sit next to her.
“It does?” she asked, her voice small. I pulled her over and onto my lap, running my hands up and down her body. God, she was just tiny. A perfect little package I wanted to lick all over and then take home and hide away from the world.
“Yeah,” I said, feeling something like triumph start to build inside me. I wasn’t going to share her—not now, not ever. This body was mine. All mine. Best present ever. Fuck if I knew what I’d done to deserve it, but not a chance in hell I’d let her get away.
“I am gonna have so much fun teaching you everything I know,” I said, kissing the side of her neck. Shit, she smelled good. My cock wanted inside her now, but somehow my brain had reengaged, and I was not going to fuck this up. If I played things right, she’d fall for me so hard she’d never know what hit her. And I wanted that. I wanted it a lot. Win for me, win for the Jacks, too. Perfect.
