Tarnished Lies and Dead Ends Page 19

  “I did. I caught wind of the shit earlier. Honestly surprised to still see your skanky ass here, Wild. Figured you’d have taken the lady home already.” Pony dipped his chin at her. “Justine, glad to see you in one piece.” He’d been very helpful with the rescued women during the original rescue, and she gave him a friendly nod in response. “Wrench, who’s the guy movin’ into your old apartment?”

  “Tale for another night, brother.” Wrench grinned as he shook his head. “Always got your nose in somebody else’s business, man.”

  “It’s how I find out the best stank.” Pony pointed at Mason, then Gunny and Hoss. “Y’all dry yet? Got a prospect primed for my yodel, you need another drink.”

  All three men demurred, and Justine noted the high levels in their beer bottles. Staying sober, but why?

  Pony continued with a quiet, “Just let me know,” and she suspected the intent of the entire exercise had been to bring it to their attention how their behaviors had been noticed and noted by the hosting club.

  Politics, everywhere I go.

  Wildman bent, and with his mouth at her ear, breathed, “Baby, gotta keep your ass still, you don’t want to put on a show here.”

  She twisted and glared up at him. “What?”

  “You, dancin’ to the music, Jussie. Rubbin’ that aforementioned sweet, sweet ass right over my dick. I don’t like ridin’ with a hard-on, which means we’ll have to go back upstairs if you don’t stop it now. I wanna take you home and fuck you there, in my personal bed.” One hand dropped, and the sting of a hard swat registered before she heard the impact of his hand against her ass. “So be fuckin’ still, woman.”

  Her breath had caught in her throat, and she didn’t fight the feeling sweeping over her as she angled her chin down, lowering her shoulders as she widened her stance. Service, ownership, rightness—it was all mixed up in her mind, but her heart was singing one word. His. Her arms might be trapped by his hold, so she couldn’t assume the pose properly, but she cupped her fingers around his wrists with a squeeze. “Yes, Sir.” Her murmured words couldn’t have traveled far, but she knew Wildman had caught them when his cock stiffened more and he thrust against her ass.

  “Minx.” Cheek stroking against hers, he gave her affirmation she’d gotten it right. She’d gotten everything right. “That’s my good girl, Jussie.”

  Boots stepped into view, and a hand curled around her chin, lifting her gaze to meet one as grey as her own. Mason studied her for the space of two breaths, then nodded. He still questioned, and she understood the need to put a line under it, given how she’d come to be here. “You want this, Justine?”

  She looked deep into his eyes, trying to project the positive from all the confusing emotions swirling through her as she nodded slowly, a deliberate down and up and back to center, his hand never losing contact with her skin. “More than anything.”

  Mason stepped back between his two men and flicked his gaze up, over her shoulder, nailing Wildman with a hard look. “She’s my blood.”

  “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Pain and suffering if anything happens to her. Chance of maiming up to and including death. We get it. It’s a family thang.” Twisted’s voice was light but carried a thread of anger. “Woman is here of her own volition, man. She’s choosing this, every moment she stands right fuckin’ there. So you go ahead and do your yada, yada, yada, get it outta your system now, so my man can take his woman home.” She didn’t miss the extension of his ownership to her through Wildman, and knew Mason caught it when his features tightened. “Go ahead.” In the periphery of her vision, Twisted’s hand flapped in a circle. “Yada, yada, yada yourself to where you needa be.”

  “No, man.” Wildman’s voice had dropped to a low rumble, one that rattled through her whole body. “That’s Jussie’s blood standin’ there, askin’ if I’m gonna do the right thing by her. I get it. If I had a sister, I wouldn’t want her with an outlaw like me.” The grating chuckle should have shaken the rafters, it was so powerful. “But me bein’ who I am, I like this woman the way she is. Ain’t gonna try and change her. Why would I when I’ve already found we’re compatible in so many fuckin’ ways.” Another chuckle, this lighter, as she silently took in the meaning of his words. “Take that how you want it, but the reality is she’s hooked me, and I’m the one left tryin’ to reel her in. You can bet your ass I’ll work hard to land her, catch her, and tie her tight to me. Part of that is respect to her family, and this is me givin’ it.”

  His hand lifted to her jaw, trailed a touch down her throat and body until he latched onto her hand and threaded their fingers together. She gave him a squeeze, hiding how her hands trembled.

  “She’s your blood.” His thumb thrust upwards until her bare ring finger stood above the rest. The inference lodged a lump in her throat. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her. Happy to do anything from the least, to the most complicated. Her job’s not a problem, because me and Jussie are gonna deal with both sides. I’d like for her family to not be a problem too. And I guess that’s partly up to you, Mason.” He disappeared from Justine’s back, his arm draping over her shoulder, hands still joined. She leaned into him, giving him her weight as she tried to come to terms with everything he’d declared. “More’n halfway, you wanna meet me. This ain’t no game to me. Ain’t a scene, done and over in hours. This is—she’s something I’ve been lookin’ my whole fuckin’ life to find.” The idea that he valued her enough to worry about how Davy would take them being together shouldn’t have been surprising. Everything about this exchange fueled her joy, validating the strong feelings swooping through her chest. The core of this man was filled to the brim with good faith and loyalty. And love. Those attributes, along with so much else, were what had brought her here tonight. Wildman fairly vibrated next to her, the intensity of his voice carrying a ring of truth through it. “Patience by the bucketful. Won’t win her overnight. Spend the rest of my life makin’ my pitch, seein’ if she’ll have me.”

  His arm squeezed her shoulders, and she rested against him, memorizing his every word.

  “Fuck, brother, how in the hell are the rest of us supposed to give you any shit after you come through with a goddamned declaration like that.” Gunny’s sigh burst from him, and he swung his head side to side, looking down. “Boss, need to see about gettin’ goddamned Wildman on the payroll as a speechwriter. That’s some powerful shit.”

  And with that, the heavy atmosphere was broken, grins around the circle of men, and as Justine glanced up at Wildman, she saw the broadest smile of them all.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Wildman

  “You got a bag or something in your car you need for tonight?” Wildman didn’t wait for Justine’s response as he paused in their path to the door and bumped shoulders with Busk, a member he was friends with. “Hey, man, you still keep a spare lid here? I need one for my lady. Mine’d fuckin’ swallow her.”

  “Wild, yeah, man. Hang on, I’ll grab it.” He looked around Wildman, and the instant his gaze fell on Justine, all humor fled his face. “You can keep it when you’re done. I won’t want it back.”

  Busk turned to walk away, and Wildman tongued the inside of his cheek, taking a moment to decide how to handle the subtle disrespect he’d just been handed.

  Justine tugged on his hand, and he angled his gaze at her, his “Yeah, baby?” not giving away his rising anger towards Busk. Justine was shaking her head, a tiny movement he would have missed if he weren’t looking directly at her. “What?”

  “I’m not going to tell you how to manage your brothers”—the easy way the word rolled off her tongue reminded him this wasn’t her first rodeo around a club and the men who filled the ranks under the patch—“because that will never be my place.” She took a breath, and the unsteady nature of it revealed how uncertain she was in his acceptance of whatever she was about to deliver. “But parties mean booze, and booze means emotions are closer to the surface. I’ve got a mighty thick skin, Wild. Little dig here or there won’
t bleed me, won’t even welt me. So you do whatever you need to do for you, but don’t assume I need defending.”

  Her eyes never wavered, didn’t drop or slide away. She held his gaze like a champ, and he was reminded the woman she was for him in bed would never be the one she was on the floor of a clubhouse, unless she gave that to him. Chin high and shoulders back, she was strength and poise, holding confidence he knew wove through her core. That made her submission to him even sweeter, because it was a part of her nature she wouldn’t show just anyone.

  “Fuck me, you’re so gorgeous, Jussie.” He gave her hand a tug. “Come on, he’ll find us on the lot. Lemme introduce you to my other girl.” From the way she rolled her eyes, he suspected she already knew what he was talking about, and sure enough, she didn’t question him as they walked through the door and outside to stand next to his bike. “This is the only other girl in my life. Tempest, call her Tempe for short.”

  “Tempest, the wind.” Justine’s fingers squeezed his. “She’s very pretty.”

  Hands to her waist, he lifted her onto the queen seat behind where his ass would ride. “You’re prettier,” he whispered against her lips, brushing a kiss from one side of her mouth to the other. “No competition there.”

  The front door opened and closed, and footsteps headed their way. He looked up, expecting to see Busk, but instead found Pony, helmet in hand. He took it from him without a word and fit it to Justine’s head, fiddling with the strap until he could snap it into place. “Thanks, man.” There was a jingle of metal, and he looked up to see Pony dangling keys from his fingers. Wildman accepted them with a wince. “Oh, shit. Man, I’d already forgotten the car. Thanks.”

  “It’s what brothers do. Make sure our friends don’t fuck things up.” Pony took a step back and then hesitated, reclaiming that space with a wry expression on his face. “I know you know this, but just don’t get sideways with folks before you have a chance to talk with them. I saw Busk, heard him, and the man will be pissed at himself tomorrow. It’s just—” He cut his gaze to Justine, then back to Wildman as he huffed out a sigh. “—not everyone got a chance to meet her yet. Between club affiliations and other things, you both are gonna have some swamp to wade through.”

  “I know.” He gripped Pony’s shoulder, then pulled him in for a hard embrace, the familiar thudding of a fist directly over the patch on his back settling his anger. “I get it, I do, but brothers need to believe I’d never do anything to risk the club.”

  “Memories run long. Gonna be an uphill road for a while.” Pony pushed away and ran a hand over his hair, smoothing it back. “I’ve got your back, brother.”

  “Back atcha, brother. Much appreciated. Later, man.” He clasped Pony’s wrist and gave it a squeeze, then turned to Justine, Pony’s “See ya” trailing off as he walked away. “What do you need from the car, baby?”

  “There’s a little bag on the front passenger seat. That has everything I need for tonight. Phone and all. I knew better than to bring it inside.” She smiled at him, the edge of the helmet shadowing her eyes, so her expression was unreadable, but her tone was open and tender, backing up the sweetness of her smile. “Thanks, baby.”

  “Mmhmm.” Wildman pursed his lips in a request she easily read, leaning forwards to press her mouth to his in a soft kiss. “Be back.” He glanced around the lot, seeing an unfamiliar car parked near the end of the building. “Be right back.”

  “I’ll be here.”

  Her declaration aside, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her, glancing over his shoulder every few steps to see her smiling at him, hand lifted in a wave she renewed each time with a sweet waggle of her fingers. The lights of the car flashed when he clicked the fob Pony had given him, and it was the work of only a moment to gather her bag and make it back to the bike, locking the car as he walked away. Crowding into her space, he murmured in faux surprise, “You’re still here,” rewarding them both with a kiss that was hot, and wet, and deep.

  Breathing like he’d run a mile, aware of how uncomfortable his hardening cock already was behind the folds of denim, he slowed down, smiling against her lips when she gave a little whine of disappointment. “Let’s go home, baby.”

  Bag strapped on top of the back fender, he lifted his leg across the tank, settling into place in front of Justine. Her fingers fumbled with the dangling straps of his helmet as he started the bike, and he felt the click as she locked the quick-snap into place for him. Her hands came to rest at his waist, then threaded around his belly, and he didn’t wait, took her position as readiness to roll, easing out the clutch until they weaved their way through the remaining bikes on the lot, to the end of the drive, and with more care than he’d ever left the clubhouse, out onto the highway.

  She rode bitch like a champ, thighs tight to his hips, arms steady around his middle, head resting against his spine, and Wildman gave himself a breath to take in the knowledge that Justine, the woman he’d wanted since setting eyes on her, was with him. She talked her way past Twisted to get into the clubhouse. No matter how the evening had started—including her trepidation at being on display for people who might have reason to hate her—Justine had persevered, stayed the course. Like a motherfuckin’ lioness, saw what she wanted and went for it. Then she’d given herself to him, completely, so naturally, exactly what he needed and wanted—he still couldn’t believe his luck. Fate, more likely. They needed to do some serious talking when they got home, but he believed she, like him, was already deep into this thing between them.

  His house sat outside of town, off a small oil-topped road, where there was a mile or more between neighbors. Lights in the landscaping cast a low but welcoming glow around the periphery, and as he rolled past the sensor at the end of the driveway, the door of the detached garage began lifting. He rode inside, looped around the end of his truck parked on the right, and pulled into the bike’s parking space.

  Justine wisely stayed put, and he climbed off the bike, turning to her. “Good girl.” Hands at her waist, he lifted, bringing her off the bike before letting her feet take her weight. Taking off her helmet, he smoothed her hair, grinning as she unfastened his lid, straps dangling along his throat. “Welcome home, baby.” She hummed against his lips when he kissed her, then pulled back, looking up at him with saucy mischief in her eyes.

  “Tempest is well named.”

  That brought a grin to his face. “Liked that, didja?” She nodded. “Was good to have you with me, Jussie.” He leaned into her for another kiss as he unstrapped the bag. “Let’s get inside before the skeeters discover us. I got some kind of sonic shit, but I never trust it really.”

  “It’s too late for the worst of the bloodsuckers.”

  She placed her hand in his outstretched one, and he wondered if he’d ever get used to even that small thing, hoping not. The sense of wonder was addictive. “There’s always an outlier.”

  “Yeah.” Her voice was soft, and he slowed, gaze on her face, taking in the mix of emotions passing over her features, glad when a mix of amusement and pleasure remained. “Gotta plan for the edge cases.”

  “That what I am, woman? Am I your edge case?” He slid his thumb across the lock at the back door, pushing on the knob when it clicked. It opened into the kitchen, motion-detecting lights flicking on under the cabinets. He paused because there was an electric movement to the air, setting the fine hairs at the back of his neck on end. Scanning the room, he asked, “What all did you plan for in your campaign to get into the clubhouse?”

  Security lights are all amber. I’m imagining things. Nothing was out of place, and his suspicions were based on no more than a gut feeling. Trusted my gut enough times, though.

  Unaware of his inner dialogue, Justine continued, “I wasn’t planning on getting into the clubhouse, per se. I’d only plotted out what I wanted to say once I got to see you. Tonight,” she said with a light laugh, clearly not holding any grudges against Twisted no matter what she might have said earlier, “didn’t really go anywhere near w
hat I’d planned.”

  “Do tell?” Shuffling her, so her back was to the wall next to the door, he pressed close, head angled so he could see her face as she spoke.

  “Oh, once I got to you, it was off the charts beyond anything I’d hoped for. But before that?” She tried to bury her chuckle, but it bubbled out. “So not what I’d expected. Before or after, honestly.” Rolling her eyes, she amended her earlier statement. “I hadn’t braced for being on display in front of the whole club. Nor had I prepared to remind my brother I’m a big girl.” She shrugged lightly, lifting a hand to drag her fingertips along his jaw, a graceful touch that buzzed through him. “Everything in between was a far and away better outcome than I’d hoped for.”

  “Were you prepared to negotiate?” He leaned in and brushed a kiss along her cheek, flicking at the lobe of her ear with his tongue. He was rewarded by a soft hum and a movement to arch her neck. Only a small portion of his attention was on the rest of the house, listening, that gut feeling not entirely leaving. “We recognized each other long ago, maybe that first moment.”

  “Lightning flashing and fighting all around, and there you were, larger than life. Hard to believe it’s barely such a short time.” She hummed again and turned her face to press a kiss at the hinge of his jaw. He let out a low groan at the initiative, liking how she wanted to touch him. “Big and powerful, it was like you sucked all the air out of that trailer.”

  “Strong. Smart. Loyal.” He emphasized each word with a gentle kiss along her throat, ending with a bite he knew would sting. “Iron steel wrapped in a velvet fist.” She arched into his touch, bodies pressed together. “Topping from the bottom from the beginning. No, Jussie.” He cradled her jaw in his hand, turning her face back to his from where she’d tried to hide against his shoulder. “Nothing wrong in knowing what you want, especially if you don’t trust anyone around you to know well enough to give it to you. That night, you needed the women with you to be safe and didn’t know me from Jack. Willin’ to do whatever it took to keep them whole and healthy. There’s not a damn thing to be ashamed of there.”