by Sassie Lewis
The sound of rustling sheets and a feminine whine echoed down the line before Zane spoke again. “Fine, you’ve got my attention for as long as it takes me to have a piss. That is one hot piece of ass I just left warming my bed. Now what’s eating you? ‘Cause you know I’d call the moment I had anything to report.”
Zane was Blake’s polar opposite. Where Blake was a moody bastard, Zane was always the cheerful cowboy, until it came to killing. Something the ex-sniper was good at. The bastard also knew Blake better than anyone else.
Blake closed his eyes and leaned against the railing, ignoring the pain that shot down his arm when he pressed his shoulder against the solid surface. He’d pulled the fucker who’d pointed the gun at him last night aside and taught him a few lessons. The bastard had gotten one good punch in, almost dislocating Blake’s shoulder. “Yeah, I know. I’m just tired, man. With all this shit going down, I’ve hardly slept. I’m horny as fuck and I’m stuck here in Reno.”
“Shit, man. What the fuck did I miss?”
Running a hand over his face, Blake filled Zane in on what had gone down after the other man left Chase’s house. Silence greeted him when he’d finished . . . “Zane?”
“Look, Blake, I know you man, you’re loyal to the club. So why the fuck did you never tell Quin, who has been worried sick about Becca’s whereabouts, that you knew where she was all along? I’ll tell you why you were being a pansy ass, otherwise you would have headed out to Reno months ago. You know I’m right.”
Blake tightened his hand around the phone at Zane’s words. Fuck! He hated the fact Zane was right. He’d been too chicken to tell Quin where the princess was because he didn’t want to deal with any of it. Already Boris was trying to pull Blake back into the brotherhood, and Becca was tempting at every turn. Pushing off the ledge, he paced across the deserted rooftop. “You know why I avoid the place.”
“Yeah, man, I do.” Blake could hear the weariness in the other man’s voice. Just like him, Zane had been burning the candle at both ends for months, trying to find the fuckers screwing with them. Making sure the North shipment ran without a hitch. “Okay, I’ve got something I gotta look into later tonight, about what went down at Chase’s, and I gotta meet up with Horse and Grange, but I can be there tomorrow?”
“Nah, you’ve got the North run to handle.” Besides, Blake didn’t need Zane to hold his fucking hand while he dealt with his family.
“I can get Stone to deal with Grange.” Blake snorted at that, Stone was more antisocial than Blake was. “So, you gonna tell me what’s really going on with you and the princess? Because I don’t think you’ve been fuckin’ around getting her just because of ya family.”
Zane’s question had him missing a step. Didn’t matter that they were on opposite sides of the state, Zane could read him like an open damn book, even over the phone.
Blake stayed silent; he’d barely admitted to wanting Becca to himself, he sure as shit wasn’t going to tell Zane that the princess consumed his every thought.
“Yeah, just what I figured. You know what Quin will do if he finds out how you feel about his kid, right?” Yeah, Blake did: Quin would kill him. “Don’t worry, man, I’ll make sure they put on a nice funeral for ya. But seriously, I think you should go for it, she has a thing for you too. And I like Becca. She’s not the brat she makes out to be.”
Blake knew that, too. It didn’t change a damn thing. And Zane’s encouragement only served to piss him off. “I’m going to kill you if you don’t give it a rest.” Blake snarled at the cocky cowboy. Zane’s answering laugh as he hung up the phone had Blake closing his eyes and drawing in the deep humid air.
No sooner had he slipped his phone away did it ring again. Jesus, the man’s ears must be burning. “Hey Quin . . .”
“Stop it,” Becca snapped. Once again, pushing Rod’s wandering fingers from where they rested. Which happened to be where her dress ended and bare skin began. And that was damn close to her pussy. The fact Blake had pretty much manhandled her earlier and she hadn’t minded, didn’t go unnoticed by her. Neither did the fact that she hadn’t seen her giant for the entire afternoon and was missing him. And when the hell had she started thinking of him as her anything?
There was no denying she had a thing for Blake; he got her motor more than just running, the damn thing purred when he was around, but that didn’t change the fact he was an overbearing, always-telling-her-what-to-do, handsome-as-fuck biker. Gah! Even her ranting mind wouldn’t let her just be mad at him.
Shaking her thoughts away, she flicked her eyes in Bear’s direction and found him watching every move Rodriguez made, her other bodyguard for the day was nowhere in sight, seeing that person was Stephan—Benji. His disappearance was welcomed. The man was beginning to creep her out. She generally had no issues with men ogling her—or making snide comments about her weight—but there was something off in the way Stephan watched her, and it had begun to make her skin crawl.
The pair had followed her around all day, probably reporting her every move to Blake. She wondered if they’d told him about her ‘date’ with Rod? It wasn’t really a date, she’d known Rod for years. Was actually surprised when he’d called her earlier that afternoon. She was even more surprised that he had bravely walked through the casino doors. As far as Becca knew, the cartel and the mafia didn’t exactly get along. Hence the fact she’d snuck him into one of the empty bungalows surrounding the beach style pool.
Rod’s hand landed on her thigh, yet again. This time Becca jumped from her chair. “I’m hungry, it’s late, and I need some fresh air.”
“I’ll order for you. You can eat on the patio, it’s a nice evening.” Bear stood from the overstuffed sofa and placed the book he’d been reading on the coffee table. Becca blinked, it was the first time he’d spoken to her directly. Actually, it was only the second time she’d heard him speak, ever. He was Boris’s second in charge, and although she’d often seen him on the casino floor acting as security, they’d never interacted. His voice was a rich baritone, but unlike Blake’s, it didn’t send delightful tingles through her body. He was also the man she’d often found herself comparing to Blake. And how had she ended up with Boris’s head guy as a babysitter? Blake. He’d pretty much demanded that Bear stick to her like glue; and the big bastard listened.
“Umm, that wasn’t the kind of fresh air I was talking about. I haven’t left the hotel in over forty-eight hours, and I tend to go a little crazy when I feel trapped.”
“She’s not kidding.” Rod piped in. “I’ve seen it firsthand. Although, I can’t really complain about what happened when she couldn’t escape me.”
Becca spun around and kicked Rod in the shin. “Shut up,” she hissed through clenched teeth. The ass laughed and dodged her next kick.
“Just trying to help, Chica. And honestly, if trapping you in this room gets me the same results, I’m all for that. Just figured you weren’t into having an audience.” The bastard wiggled his eyebrows at her, a large grin plastered on his face, revealing his dimples.
Becca couldn’t hold her anger at the idiot and smiled back. Rodriguez’s antics always managed to get a smile out of her, even when he was being an annoying, over-sharing ass. She blamed those damned cute dimples of his.
Rod looped his arm over her shoulders and pulled her close. “But seriously, I could get out of here too. I’m not exactly welcomed here, but I needed to see you, make sure you were all right.
“There’s an awesome place just across the road that does a mean barbeque.” Becca’s tummy rumbled on cue. She’d loved the Russian cuisine Boris had been feeding her, but right then she would kill for a good slice of beef.
“I am so down with that. C’mon Bear, I’ll shout you.” Becca grinned over at him. He mumbled in Russian, too quietly for her to make out the words before following them out.
Rod hadn’t been joking when he said the best barbeque in Reno was just across the road. How she’d missed the big Brill’s Grill neon sign across from
the Kazino Royale was beyond her.
Leaning her head back against the high-topped booth, she rubbed at her now full stomach, and for a split second, wondered if she should get something to take back for Blake, then she chastised herself for once again letting the stupid man invade her mind.
Rod slid closer to her on the bench seat, pulling her focus back to him. His arm moved from the back of the chair to brush along her shoulders. The touch: familiar. “You know I meant what I asked you that day, Becca? I still want it.”
“I know,” she whispered, wishing she could have said yes to him. He was handsome, and only two years older than her.
He’d been one of the college students helping out at the AMC’s, and because of his family, he’d known who she was. A fact that made Becca wary at first, but by the end of the day, they bonded over their mutual love of numbers and hatred for the lives they’d been born into. At the next event he had sought her out, and their friendship had blossomed. She could talk to him about everything, things her best friend Nessa didn’t fully understand, and even though the Anderson’s and the Romero’s didn’t interact, and because their backgrounds were so similar, Rod could and did understand. They’d ended up trapped in the same cabin when a snowstorm had hit. One thing had led to another and a lot of fooling around resulted. Then he’d gone and professed his love for her and asked her to run away with him. To leave and start a new life together—far away from controlling families. She said no, maybe if she’d said yes things would be different all round. Maybe she should say yes now?
The moment the prospect of committing to Rod entered her mind, her soul screamed out for another man. One who drove her wild with want, and who pissed her off more than anyone else could. And for the one who thought of her as nothing more than a bratty princess.
Rod tilted her face toward his, and a sharp pain tore across her heart at the knowledge that although she wished she could say yes to him, tell him she loved him with all her heart, she just couldn’t. He didn’t ignite the fire she knew she’d need to make a relationship work. So far, there’d been only one man who’d been able to do that. “Ah, Chica, don’t look so sad.”
“I’m sorry, Rod, you know I care deeply for you—”
“But you don’t love me.” There was no malice in his voice, only regret. “I am like a brother. Well, a brother you can do naughty, dirty things with.” He gave her a cheeky grin and wiggled his eyebrows, but Becca could still see the hurt in his eyes.
Cupping his face, she pulled his lips to hers. The kiss wasn’t one of passion but of friendship. She had shared more of herself with Rodriguez than any other male, and for that she would always cherish him.
Blake saw red.
Pushing the server out of the way, he stormed across the restaurant. After his phone call with Quin he’d had things to take care of, then he couldn’t find the damn woman. One phone call to his brother had revealed her location. Here she sat, her face pressed against another man’s. Did she want the boy dead?
With each step closer to the cozy scene, the red wash coating his vision intensified. Fisting Becca’s hair in his hand, he pulled the lip-locked couple apart—big green eyes blinked up at him.
“B–Blake?” The way she whispered his name sent the blood filling his vision directly to his cock.
“That’s another one, princess.” Her pupils dilated, her pink tongue came out to swipe across her lips, and he couldn’t resist following the path it took. Using her hair, he dragged Becca up to meet his mouth. The need to cover the other man’s mark rode him hard.
Just like the night before, she sizzled with passion. She was a firecracker against him. It was her tongue that sought his. Her teeth that nibbled on his wet muscle. And her small hands that gripped his shoulders and tried to tug him closer. The fucking table impeded her movement.
Pulling from her mouth, Blake picked her up and flipped her over his shoulder. She squirmed and squealed; the movement sending a delicious wash of her musky scent to his nose. Slapping his hand to her ass, he held her steady while facing the boy, a little surprised as he recognized the kid.
“Touch her again and I’ll kill you.”
“You got any idea who you’re threatening?”
Blake had to give the kid credit, he didn’t cower, he looked pissed. Good.
Keeping Becca balanced on his shoulder, he leaned closer and invaded the other man’s space. “Say hello to your daddy for me, Romero. Make sure you mention my name.”
“And that would be?”
Blake held back his laugh as the kid feigned boredom. He was good, he’d do his father proud when he took over the family business, but even the elder Romero knew to give Blake a wide berth, or to have an army at his back when he came for him.
“Bold!” The kid’s eyes widened, but he held back any other sign of fear. “There was a rumor you were dead. He’ll be . . . pleased to hear you’re still live.”
Blake snorted, he was positive Samuel Romero would dance on his grave if Blake had one. “You might want to get out of town. Your kind aren’t welcomed here.”
With that, and his prize on his shoulder, he turned from the table and faced his brother. “I’ll stay and make sure this one makes it out of our territory.”
“You should have called me the minute he showed up. I’ll deal with you later.”
Bear smirked at his threat. “I look forward to it, brother.”
No one stopped him as he walked back to the casino. Reno was just like Vegas; they’d seen weirder shit than a large man carrying a squealing girl like a sack of potatoes. Only one brave soul attempted to halt Blake from stepping into the elevator, but one of his grandfather’s soldiers was quick to save the man from meeting the business end of Blake’s fist.
“Put me the fuck down, Blake.” Her little hand connected with his back with a sharp slap, and he added another spanking to her tally.
The elevator dinged open and he stepped out. Two of Boris’s soldiers stood guard outside their suite. Their presence doused a little of the lust riding him, replacing it once again with the rage that flared to life when he’d found Becca had not only left the casino, but was hanging out with Romero. What the fuck was she doing associating with Cartel members?
Nodding to the man holding the door open, he walked through the open portal then kicked it closed behind him.
“I said, put me the fuck down you overgrown asshole.”
Storming further into the room, Blake unceremoniously dumped Becca onto the sofa.
Chapter Eight
Becca’s stomach launched as for the second time that day Blake flipped her off his shoulder, air rushing from her lungs in a humph as she landed on the sofa.
“Do you know how much trouble you’re in, princess?” Blake loomed over her, caging her with an arm on either side of her, and his legs pressed against her knees. Tilting her head back, she prepared to give him a mouthful, instead she drew in a sharp breath. Deep lines creased his face and his dark brown eyes looked onyx. And that miss-wiring in her brain didn’t pick up the fact that she should fear him and what she could see he had planned in those black orbs. Nope, her brain didn’t have a reasonable response; it sent a wave of lust through her body to heat every inch of her skin, so hot she was sure she glowed red. Licking dry lips, she tried to remember what he’d said, but it seemed he didn’t actually want an answer when he kept talking. “Do you have any fucking clue how much danger you’re in, princess?” With the look on his face, she had to wonder if he meant from him, but she was pretty sure he was talking about what was going on with Hell’s Exiles. That thought got her hackles up.
“You showed me a picture, gave me a warning. How the fuck would I know any more than that!” It wasn’t a question, she was pointing out how little the asshole men of Hell’s Exiles shared with the women involved with their little fraternity. The only reason she knew as much as she did, was because she’d become rather sleuth— listening in when Quin thought no one was around. Oh, the man was pedantic abo
ut having clean phones and bug-free rooms, he just never accounted for his nosy daughter.
A glimmer flicked through Blake’s black eyes, and he closed the small space between their faces until she felt his words against her skin. “Don’t play that game with me, princess. I was on your ass for over a month, you knew more than half the patched members. Not only that, I told you this morning that whoever killed that girl is after you.”
She didn’t get a chance to reply. Her world once again flipped and she found herself laying across Blake’s thick, solid legs. Realization of what he planned to do floated through her muddled brain. Cool air caressed her now exposed ass. A tug at her hips and her G-string disappeared.
Wiggling, she tried to escape, but the giant placed an arm across her back, pinning her there. “Don’t even think about it, you asshole. I’m not a fucking child you can just spank.” As the last word left her mouth, a sharp retort rang through the room a moment before her left ass cheek alighted with heated pain. Becca screamed out at the sensation.
His big hand landed another two sharp swats, each one intensifying the heat that started where his hand landed, then radiated to a much more intimate part of her body. With each strike, her core throbbed, and her mind began to float. Nothing else existed. Nothing else mattered, except the heat of his touch.
A groan ripped from his chest at the glistening evidence of her arousal. He’d only planned on spanking her six times, counting them off in his head, but the way the princess responded snapped another piece off his control, and had him seeing just how far he could push her—while raining blow after blow down on her rounded ass.