Capone

by Lynn Burke

  “Goddamn,” I growled against her mouth and slid a leg between her jean-clad thighs. She rubbed against me like a cat in heat, hot-as-fuck mewling noises rising from her throat as I leaned in to lick every inch of her delicious mouth.

  My cock leaked inside my leathers, creating a sticky mess, and Helina’s hands shoving up under my tight shirt and mapping my abs didn’t help. The heat of her pussy pressed against my thigh seeped through the clothing separating us, drawing another growl from my chest.

  I forced myself to step back. Either that or fuck her right there in broad daylight for the world’s enjoyment. God knows I would stop to check out the show. Watching turned me on.

  She slapped me. Again.

  “The fuck?” A feminine voice gasped, whipping my head toward the right. Shelly, one of the club whores I’d had dozens of times, strode toward us, hands on hips, purse dangling from one wrist. “The fuck you do that for?” she asked again, her ruby-red lips scowling while her gaze slid down and back up Helina’s body. She stopped a few feet away from us. “You need to tell that bitch to back the fuck off,” Shelly spouted at me, unable to keep her goddamn trap shut.

  “Shut up, Shelly.”

  She glared at me. “You going to let that cunt touch you like that?”

  I fisted my hands to keep from clobbering the whore.

  “Any other brother would give that bitch a good slap in return!” she continued, eyes glinting like a knife.

  Arguing her wrong assumption wouldn’t do anything but piss her off. “How about you back the fuck off?” I glared at her, wondering how the fuck I’d ever found her pretty enough to stick my dick into. “I can handle this woman on my own.”

  Shelly snorted. “Handle it, my ass.” She turned away, and I swear to fucking God I heard her mutter something about me being a pussy while passing through the club’s front door.

  Jaw clenched, I turned back to Helina, surprised as fuck she hadn’t gotten involved in my little discussion with Shelly.

  Eyes narrowed, she once more spit fire from her gaze at Shelly’s back. “How many times have you had that club whore bitch?” she asked, settling her glare on me.

  “None of your fucking business.”

  “Let me guess … you’re the club pretty boy who loves pussy no matter the age or shape. The player who takes whoever he can, whenever he can. I’ll bet your dick has sampled half of this town’s—”

  “You’ve got me pegged,” I said, holding my arms wide, but not backing out of her personal space.

  Pink tinged her cheeks, her green eyes sparkling with a wrath like Kahn’s. “Handle it… You’re just like all the other alpha assholes hoping for a chance to take down an independent woman and show her who’s boss.”

  “You have no idea, darlin’,” I shot back her own words with the same emphasis. Close enough to ravish … we both heaved for breath. More pre-cum leaked from my straining dick as I tried like hell to fight off my need to fuck the little spitfire.

  She shoved at my chest. “Leave me alone!”

  “Gladly!” I stepped back even though her dilated pupils and hard nipples disagreed with her words. I had enough of a headache with my brother’s issues…

  Helina stormed off, her swaying ass snagging my attention.

  I sure as shit didn’t need woman problems. Even if said woman got under my skin like a fucking tick intent on sucking me dry.

  Groaning at the thought of her mouth on my cock, I shoved the club’s door in, adding the swagger to my walk that made me appear like the badass I’d always wanted to be. Fucking woman had me by the balls whether I wanted her to or not, but I couldn’t let my brothers know—if loudmouth Shelly hadn’t already told them.

  Helina

  Fucking player. Asshole.

  I slammed my car door and tore out of the Fallen Glider club’s parking lot, so frustrated I couldn’t see straight. The damn man had my head fucking spinning—and not in a good way. My pussy ached. Clit throbbed. And all I had was a damn vibrator that just wouldn’t cut it.

  “Asshole,” I mumbled out loud, pulling up in front of the old brick building I’d signed a lease on earlier in the week. My firm. My fucking life.

  He didn’t know the first thing about me. How dare he call me a spoiled brat as though my daddy had handed me everything? I worked my ass off for everything I owned. No help—zero spoiling from anyone.

  Self-made, I didn’t need anyone else.

  The anger biting at me eased off a bit as I used the key to open the front door. Boxes sat in disarray along with the still-wrapped chairs I’d bought for the reception area I stood in. Hands on hips, I glanced around the small space. My old desk sat near the far wall, beside the door that led to my office. Another room sat on the other side, leading to a room I would use for conferences. A bathroom beyond that, and then stairs leading to the second floor, a wide-open space outfitted as a studio apartment.

  I planned on leaving my current rental, but one damn thing at a time. Needed to hire a secretary. Needed to advertise my services as a kick-ass lawyer. Needed to send out a nice letter to my old clients from the firm in the neighboring town I’d slaved in for the previous five years, letting them know I’d relocated. Screw the old firm—they’d used me like a slave and didn’t deserve my loyalty in any form whatsoever.

  Heaving a breath, I tossed my keys aside and grabbed a box off the top of the stack, before heading to my office. A little organizing and hard work would take my mind off everything I had to do … along with Capone and those crystal-blue eyes. Those lips … that tongue.

  “Focus, Helina.”

  I grumbled at myself for a few more minutes, unable to get the damn man off my mind. Hatred for the type of man he must be and need for his sexy ass warred in my head. Panties soaked and clit still throbbing, I locked myself in the tiny bathroom and took care of my needs. Sucked ass that I wasn’t satisfied afterward.

  Far from it.

  ****

  By Thursday morning, I’d gotten the office organized, sent out that letter, interviewed a couple women, and given my landlord a thirty day notice I was moving out of my rental house. I sat drinking my coffee, still in my robe, the news from the living room TV filtering through the wall of the kitchen. At the mention of the Fallen Gliders, I hopped up and hurried into the neighboring room.

  A car sat on the side of Route 95, surrounded by police vehicles, lights flashing. Drug bust … a car loaded with narcotics … suspected local motorcycle gang… Turned out someone had ratted on the Gliders, anonymously giving the police the information they needed to track down the north-bound car.

  “Damn.” Shaking my head, I reminded myself of the type of man Capone was. That “67” on his neck made him off limits in so many ways. Even though the memory of him had kept me up tossing and turning every night since Sunday, I needed to get my head and body moving in a different direction.

  I muted the TV and picked up my phone. The week before, I’d gone to a singles’ dating event at a local dig downtown and met someone decent enough for a one-night stand. He wouldn’t sleep with me. Wouldn’t even fucking touch me beneath my clothing. Respect, he’d said before asking me out a second time.

  I wasn’t interested in a budding relationship where a man assumed he had the right to tell me what to do—I only wanted to fuck and move on, take care of needs and remain my independent self.

  Time to go hunting and, I hoped, find someone to distract me from the blue eyes and easy smile haunting me every hour of the day.

  ****

  A flirty skirt for easy access, no panties, tight tank with a built-in bra, hair in waves down my back, and smoky makeup … yeah, I was so ready to get laid. The newest restaurant downtown had done up their second floor for local events—and cooking classes every Friday night that doubled as a singles’ meetup.

  Unnaturally warm spring air licked at my tingling skin as I locked up my ancient Audi and made my way through the town’s parking area. Old brick buildings lined the main road, the r
estaurant I walked toward only a few doors down from my firm. They served lunch and dinner seven days a week, and I had already sampled most of their menu with takeout.

  Knowing I needed to get on a stricter budget, I decided I needed to learn how to cook for myself. Why not combine work and pleasure? Best way to make the time pass since I couldn’t care less about roasting versus steaming.

  Diane, the restaurant’s owner, met me at the top of the stairs. “Welcome back, Helina!” How the hell she remembers my name after a single event…

  Good business mind, right there. I handed her my card, letting her know about my new firm, and made my way into the open space. The small bar to the left held court, the other patrons mingling, drinks in hand.

  I made my way toward the group, smiling and dropping pleasantries when needed. Glass of red in hand, I turned, taking in the five men in attendance. Double the number of women clustered like clucking chickens fighting for a nibble of grain to fall from the poor guys. None of the men’s looks did jack for me, and with a sigh, I headed toward the table closest to the door in case I decided to split early.

  “Let’s get started!” Diane called out from across the room a few seconds later, and I settled onto the stool in front of a stainless-steel table set up for the evening’s meal we would be preparing. The stool beside me remained empty as others took their seats, those lucky enough to nab a male partner for the night smiling like they’d found the fattest worm on the farm.

  My phone dinged, and I grabbed my purse from beneath the table.

  The door opened while I read a text reminder of my dentist appointment the following day. A waft of familiar male slid past my nose, tingling me between the thighs as I stuffed my purse beneath the table once more.

  Jean-clad legs appeared beside me, and I glanced up.

  Jeremiah Caldwell.

  Oh, fuck it all to hell and back again.

  Capone

  Helina … goddamn. My cock twitched as I slid onto the stool beside her, grinning like a fucking fool at my luck.

  Lips parted, she stared at me for a good three seconds before snapping her jaw shut, eyes narrowing. “Stalking me?” she whispered as Diane chatted from the front of the room.

  “I could ask you the same,” I shot back, keeping my voice low as my gaze settled on her plump lower lip. Her spicy perfume, like a subtle cloud, shifted around me, wrapping me up in a cocoon of lust. I’d had my fair share of women, but I’d never experienced sexual tension like the electrical currents zapping the short distance between us.

  Jaw clenched, she turned away, focusing on our teacher for the night.

  I’d been friends with Diane since high school. We had attended cooking school together until I dropped out from catching too much shit from my dad and joined the Gliders. She often asked me to fill in for her Friday night singles’ cooking classes, and on the occasion I found someone to cover the club’s kitchen, I jumped at the chance.

  Food and available women … yes, fucking please, the whole reason I’d shown up that night. Rucker, one of the Gliders who’d earned his colors two years earlier, covered the club’s grill—‘cuz I needed to fuck Helina out of my system and knew I could find an easy lay at Diane’s.

  It figured Helina would be there, keeping me from hooking up. Fuck knew I wouldn’t be able to look at another woman with her in the same damn room.

  Not the type of woman I needed. I doubted Helina had a submissive bone in her body. She would rule whatever household she lived in, and I’d catch nothing but shit from my family.

  What the fuck…

  Shaking my head at the stupid-as-shit thoughts in my head of a future with the woman I didn’t even know, let alone what my family would think of her, I tried to focus on Diane as she shared information we’d learned in the first semester at school. My attention span with Helina beside me was short as shit.

  Heaving a heavy breath, I next turned my thoughts to the issues we’d been having at the club. The police had intercepted the shipment Jonny had sent north on Wednesday. Only a handful of Gliders had known about the two cars carrying the shit our club supplied to the northern New Hampshire dealers. The ploy had arrived at its destination, without being detained. The other? Pulled over on 95, the driver, not a Glider thank fuck, knew not to say jack shit and sat in jail for possession.

  Until we figured out who the fuck had snitched, Jonny decided to lock down all outside business. The income properties his father had invested the club’s money into years earlier more than took care of the club’s overhead.

  Personally, I hoped the Gliders found a way to turn completely from their lawless ways.

  Dad would call me a pussy, and while my blood brother would agree, I expected more than half of my Fallen brothers wanted the same. Nicky had lost his only sister to the shit the club dealt, and he’d almost lost his niece as well. And, there were others known to my brothers who had unintentionally overdosed.

  We fed the fucking plague…

  The guilt ate at my stomach, same as it always did whenever I thought too long on the club’s main source of income. Better to give into the lust for the woman beside me.

  Every chance I got, I brushed my fingers against hers. Leaned close while offering encouragement on how she sliced and diced. Repositioned the knife in her hand for chopping garlic.

  “I’ll bet you’re one hell of a lawyer,” I murmured near her ear as Diane made her way from table to table, checking on everyone’s skills.

  “What makes you say that?” she asked as the hairs on the nape of her sloping neck stood on end.

  Grinning, I shifted her wrist once more, my other hand settling on her lower back.

  She shied away.

  “David said you just opened your own firm. At what? Twenty-five?”

  A soft snort escaped her nose. “Hardly. I just know what I want, and nothing stops me from getting it.”

  “And how’s business?”

  “Not good.”

  “It will be.”

  Helina glanced up at me, the knife poised. “What makes you think that?”

  I studied her face, noting the golden flecks in her green eyes and trying not to drown. “You’re the most determined woman I’ve ever met. Hell.” I chuckled, glancing at Diane as she neared our table. “You showed up at the fucking club and demanded to speak to a Glider without an ounce of fear.”

  “How’s it going?” Diane asked, smiling and looking over the progress we’d made.

  “Helina’s a natural,” I said, settling back onto my stool.

  “Hardly,” Helina said with another soft snort on the word’s heels.

  “She took charge,” I said. “Attacked tonight’s tasks with tenacity.” I didn’t add said tenacity turned me the fuck on.

  “Good,” Diane murmured with another smile. “Good.” She moved off, and Helina glanced at me.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Does your bullshit get you into every pair of panties you set your mind on?”

  “Isn’t bullshit. You’ve got spunk. Resolve. And—” I grinned, my gaze dropping to her lips, “it’s sexy as fuck.”

  At least no snort left her lips. She turned back to her task, a slight frown denting the skin between her arched brows.

  We worked well together over the next half-hour, even if every subtle shift of her body made my cock leak with the need to slicken her pussy for fucking. The pulse in her neck, the way she crossed her thighs when I spoke near her ear had me wondering if she’d even need help getting wet.

  The fuck was I thinking about sex without a condom?

  She dropped one of the cherry tomatoes, and I bent to retrieve it, breathing in deeply as my nose passed a mere foot from her skirt.

  Musky and sweet, her scent teased at my memory, and clenching my jaw to keep my groan trapped inside, I stood, my mouth watering.

  Our gazes collided as I held the small tomato in my hand, palm up.

  Helina stared up at me, and my stomach bottomed out at the desire in her
eyes. My heartbeat thumped in my ears, fading the noises of the people cooking around us.

  “What I wouldn’t give to taste you again,” I said, unable to help myself.

  She fucking licked her lips, her gaze dropping to mine as she plucked the tomato from my hand, but she turned away without a word.

  Fuck it. I want her.

  I shifted closer and leaned down, my breath teasing the hair beside her ear as she sliced through the fruit with a serrated knife. “That skirt can’t hide the sweetness of your wet pussy,” I whispered. “Tell me you don’t want my tongue on you. In you.”

  She shuddered.

  “Tell me to leave you alone again—if that’s what you really want—and I’ll walk away right now.” I stepped back, giving her a few extra inches to consider my words.

  Licking her lower lip again, she put the knife down. “Goddamn you … infuriating man.” She murmured the words as though to herself, without any trace of anger. Grabbing a towel, she glanced over at me.

  The war in her eyes made my inner child want to grin, but I held back, keeping my gaze serious as shit.

  “Let’s go.” She grabbed her purse and made for the door.

  I left the table without a backward glance, following after her like the dog I was, wanting to shove my nose up her ass and breathe her in.

  Down the stairs. Out into the night. Up the sidewalk for a couple blocks, the click of her heels in front of me and the sway of her ass luring me along.

  She unlocked the door of an office, but I didn’t pay attention beyond anything but getting her alone, somewhere I could give her what I’d denied her before she’d passed out in my arms the weekend before. Through a reception area that smelled like new furniture, through an inner office door, and Helina tossed her purse aside. She turned, but I stepped close, spun her around again, pulling her back against my chest.

  I bent enough to slide my hand up beneath her skirt, my face buried in her neck.

  No fucking panties.

  I groaned in her ear while her pussy coated my hand with wetness as I cupped her. “Christ…”