by Atlas, Lilly
Jazz and Holly chatted with the ol’ ladies for a moment before Jazz whispered in Holly’s ear and pointed toward the bar. Holly’s eyes grew wide, and he had a perfect view of those tempting lips mouthing the words “hell yes,” before the two started for the bar.
Still scanning as she moved, Holly’s gaze eventually landed on him. He wasn’t hard to find since he stood at least a few inches above everyone except Copper. Her steps faltered, and she reached for Jazz to steady herself while her eyes grew saucer wide. Until they shifted to Carli, that is, then they narrowed, and her plum painted lips turned down.
LJ didn’t bother going to her. He’d made an offer and was rejected. No point in beating that dead horse. “Get lost, Carli,” he said, patience gone. This time he jerked his arm free and she finally got the message. The lost puppy dog look she cast his way as she walked backward from him was plain pitiful and not at all an action to make him change his mind.
Twenty minutes and another two shots later, LJ was done with this bullshit. He’d watched Holly and Jazz down a few drinks in the short time as man after man approached Holly and stared at her exposed cleavage. He hadn’t been able to tear his gaze from it himself, but wasn’t there some sort of finders keepers rule? He’d seen her first and was getting damn tired of watching his brothers drool over what somehow felt like his.
So, enough was enough. She was either going to cover those tits or leave. Simple drunken logic.
The trek to the opposite end of the bar took a solid five minutes since no less than three people interrupted him along the way. As he drew up behind Jazz, Holly’s shiny mouth dropped open and she sputtered.
“What’s wrong?” Jazz asked as she turned then looked up to him. “Oh, hey, LJ! I haven’t seen you since your patch-in party. Congrats by the way. This is Hol—”
“Hey, Jazz, need to borrow your girl for a few minutes,” he broke in as he wrapped his hand around Holly’s wrist.
“What? No, I don’t think so,” Holly said, but she didn’t fight him as he tugged her away from Jazz, who now wore a smirk.
“I’ll find you later, girl.” Laughing, Jazz wiggled her fingers at Holly who tossed her friend a scowl. “Or maybe I won’t. If you’re lucky.” Jazz winked then turned, completely ignoring the desperate S.O.S. look Holly sent her.
Whatever Holly might think of him, Jazz was well aware her new friend would be perfectly safe in his company.
Without another word, LJ towed Holly down a darkened and deserted hallway leading to the exec member’s offices. The rooms were strictly off-limits to anyone but their owners during a party. Holly put up a moderate amount of resistance. Not enough to make a scene, but enough for LJ to get the hint she wasn’t thrilled by his caveman haul-off routine. Though it did her no good. He could lift her and toss her over his shoulder with one pinkie if he wanted and not a single soul in the place would rescue her, no matter how big a fit she threw. Hell, they’d whistle and cheer him on. Slap his back as he passed by.
The hallway was free of chatter since the rest of the club preferred to be out near the bar, but it wasn’t quiet by any means. The heavy beat blaring from the speakers seemed to rattle the walls of the entire clubhouse. At some point, an eager couple would end up banging against one of the walls—probably Mav and Stephanie—but for now, he and Holly were the only two around.
The music drowned out the sound of Holly’s ragged breathing, but as LJ stopped walking and caged her against the wall, he caught sight of her chest rising and falling much too fast. A dark part of him felt a small amount of pleasure at her unease. It’d heighten her senses, keep her on the edge.
“Your daddy know you’re here?” he asked, forearms braced on the wall above her head. She had no choice but to crane her neck to see him in the dimly lit hallway. Being so much taller than her not only gave him a power advantage, it gave him a fucking spectacular birds-eye view of her plump cleavage. And man was it on display tonight.
Some of the fear evaporated from her gaze, replaced by the fire of annoyance. LJ hummed his approval. Anger was even sexier on her than the fear. “I didn’t know where Jazz was taking me,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Hmm. Yet you didn’t leave when she showed up at the biker’s den of sin, huh? You came strutting in here wearing jeans so fucking tight they look painted on that sexy ass, and a tiny top showing off your tits to every man in the room.” Goddamn, she smelled incredible. Some kind of citrusy soap combined with something sweet. LJ would bet his life savings she’d spent the day baking.
“I d-didn’t drive,” she whispered. “I had no way to leave.”
“Coulda called daddy.”
Holly shook her head.
LJ knew shit about what went on when women gooped up their faces, but whatever Holly did to her eyes gave them this sultry, smoky dark look that could only be described as bedroom eyes. Naked-faced, she was downright gorgeous, but he’d be lying if he said this sexed-up version wasn’t making his dick hard as well.
“Want to know what I think?” LJ asked as he traced one finger down the column of her neck.
She swallowed, as though her throat was following the trail of his hand. “W-what?”
“I think you wanted to come here. I think you wanted to get a little drunk. Get a little wild. See how the filthy half lives.” Light as a feather, he stroked a fingertip over the swell of one partially exposed breast.
Holly let out a little gasp. The puff of air wasn’t audible over the thrum of the music, but her glossy lips parted, and a small shudder ran through her. Though the lack of light made it difficult to see, LJ swore he could make out the pointed tips of her puckered nipples through the fabric of her dark tank. Helpless to do anything but find out if his suspicion was accurate, he brushed the back of his hand over one tit then the other.
Like little diamonds. “Tell me I’m wrong,” he whispered as he bent so close, he could smell the tequila on her breath. Same drink preference as him. Why that made him even harder, he had no clue, but he was beginning to think Holly could sneeze and it’d turn him the fuck on. “Tell me you didn’t want to come here and get dirtied up by a raunchy biker.”
“Y-you’re wrong.” The protest was so weak, LJ chuckled.
“Liar,” he said, one second before his mouth claimed hers.
For a moment, Holly remained stiff, forcing him to tease her sealed lips. He ran his tongue over the top one, then the bottom before nipping it with a sharp pressure. Apparently, little-miss-sugary-sweet liked a prick of pain because she let out a soft moan the second his teeth sank into that lip. LJ didn’t waste one second plunging his tongue into her open mouth.
Tequila. Definitely tequila. And something sweet. Fuck, the woman tasted better than the most expensive liquor money could buy.
The stroke of his tongue against hers set her off. She let out a whimper and melted into him. Strong feminine arms came around his neck as Holly plastered those pillowy tits against him and dove into the kiss.
He’d been prepared to plunder, to steal her breath and make her suffer a little with a punishing kiss. The feelings of inadequacy she’d evoked in him combined with the rejection then the nightmare all came to a powerful head when she walked into his clubhouse looking like some kind of erotic goddess. But instead of a ferocious meeting of lips, tongue, and teeth, the kiss turned languid and exploratory.
They stroked against each other, testing angles and pressure, and repeating the moves which caused whimpers and moans. Holly parted her legs, allowing him to slip one of his between her thighs and damn if she didn’t press that hot little denim-covered pussy right into the thick length of his quadricep.
LJ groaned as she rocked against him. The kiss remained slow, drugging, but the intensity increased until Holly ripped her mouth away and let out a long mewl. That sound, sexy as it was, shocked LJ out of his lust-filled stupor and back into the world where Holly thought he was scum of the earth and her father was on a mission to lock his ass up. And those he loved. The idea of
Chloe or Toni or any of the ol’ ladies watching as their men were carted off to prison was enough to shoot LJ’s lust out of the sky until it crashed dead on the ground.
Even as her hungry mouth sought his again, he pried her arms from around his neck and anchored them to the wall at her sides. “I’m not going to be your little act of rebellion, sugar. Come find me when you figure your shit out.”
With that, he pushed off the wall and stormed back down the hallway. As he made his way back to the party, his head pounded in time with the music. The tips of his fingers began to tingle and an invisible vise squeezed his chest tight.
Fuck.
Not now. This couldn’t be happening.
Vision growing hazy, LJ paused at the bar and called out. “Thunder, give me the fucking bottle.”
The prospect’s eyes grew wide at the sight of him near losing his shit, but did as asked and handed the bottle of tequila across the bar. LJ grabbed it and continued straight on toward the stairs leading to the bedrooms. He had a small room he rarely made use of. Having his brothers and their women be privy to his screaming nightmares didn’t top his list of fun times to be had.
Only two things worked to stave off an impending panic attack, or worse a dissociative episode as his shrink called it. First was the breathing and coping exercises the Navy appointed therapist gave him. Second was the bottle. One of those practices took time and so much mental effort, the struggle left him fatigued for hours. The other was too fucking easy and never failed, which was why LJ never, ever allowed himself to drink to cure the pain.
But tonight? Tonight was different. Tonight, he planned to polish off the tequlia and pass the fuck out. Consequences be damned.
As he motored toward the stairs, Carli stepped into his path. Her form wavered a bit in front of his eyes. “Get the fuck outta my way,” he growled. With a yip, she hopped back a second before he’d have rammed into her.
Next to tequila-block him was Jazz. Hands on her slim hips, she raised an eyebrow. “Where the fuck is Holly?”
“Hallway,” he barked. “Take her the fuck home, Jazz. She doesn’t belong here.” With that, he side-stepped around a gaping Jazz and took the stairs two at a time. Halfway up to the second floor, unable to draw in a full breath, he ripped the cap off the tequila and tossed it over his shoulder before taking a long, calming drink.
Fuck this day.
CHAPTER TEN
EYES CLOSED, HOLLY slumped against the wall and worked to get her erratic breathing under control. She held a hand over her heart as if she could manually slow the beat from a gallop to a steady trot.
What an asshole LJ turned out to be.
Twice. Twice in the last twenty-four hours, he’d crowded her against a wall and got her all worked up, only to drop some grenade of a comment then leave her all hot and bothered. And she’d fallen for it hook, line, and sinker both times.
She must seem like some kind of sex-starved bimbo to him.
Humiliation aside, Holly was just plain pissed to be left in a state of want yet again. Hell, maybe she was a sex-starved bimbo.
LJ was punishing her for everything that had happened since her father showed up last night.
Colossal asshole.
How had she thought him so kind those first few days?
“Holly?” Jazz’s concerned voice floated down the hallway. “You okay?”
As she blew all the air out of her lungs, Holly nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”
Jazz’s laugh was more of a grunt. “You’re a shit liar, sweetie. Here.”
Holly popped her eyes open to find her new friend holding out a tall shot glass. “You look like you could use this and then some. It’s a double, so go easy.”
Yes, a good drunk was exactly what Holly needed to forget the man who made her body sing and her mind scream. “Thank you,” she said as she grabbed the shot glass and downed the entire content as though it was water instead of two mouthfuls of tequila.
“Damn,” Jazz said with a chuckle. “I’m impressed. Shooting that much tequila at once takes commitment.” She leaned against the wall next to Holly and took her hand. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Had I known there was bad blood between the two of you, I’d never have let him cart you off like that. I just thought it was some kind of foreplay. Don’t worry though, I’m fully prepared to kick his giant ass into next week. Just say the word.”
The image of Jazz trying to take on LJ, who could probably snap her in half with one twist of his wrist, finally dragged a smile out of Holly.
“That’s better,” Jazz said as she bumped Holly’s shoulder with her own. “Wanna talk about it, or you want me to just take you home?”
Since Jazz had practically shoved her at LJ earlier and seemed right at home here in an outlaw MC’s clubhouse, Holly assumed her loyalty ran deep and she’d side with the club as soon as she found out who Holly’s father was. But as of now, Jazz remained the only friend Holly had in Townsend, and she desperately needed a girlfriend to confide all these swirling emotions to, so she took a chance. “LJ lives in the apartment next to me. We’ve only spent a little time together, but there seems to be a powerful…um…attraction between us.”
Her cheeks heated. More than likely, she was the only person in the building who’d blush over the mention of sexual chemistry. Earlier, as she and Jazz had made their way from the entrance to the bar, Holly noticed no less than three couples going at it hot and heavy in various corners of the room, not to mention some seriously dirty dancing all around the place. Not quite the drunken orgy she’d expected, but certainly more than she’d witnessed in public anywhere else.
“But, um, I’m pretty sure LJ hates my guts even if he wants me, and I’m crazy conflicted about my feelings for him at this point. He seemed insanely nice when we first met, but last night and tonight he acted just plain shitty.”
“Oh, fuck,” Jazz said on an exhale. “You’re the sheriff’s daughter.”
Holly’s eyes widened and she met Jazz’s gaze head-on. “What? How do you know that?”
She shrugged. “These dudes gossip worse than a bunch of high school chicks. They also think they’re good at keeping shit from their women when they actually suck at it. Since I’m in with all the ol’ ladies, I get the juicy gossip. And I hate to tell you girl, but the sexy baker who put LJ in a shit mood is today’s main chatter.”
“Wonderful.” Holly thunked her head against the wall. Could this situation get any more fucked up? It was time to go. Maybe even time to find a new apartment. Living next door to an outlaw biker who she happened to want more than she’d ever wanted a guy was a recipe for disaster. Especially when she was supposed to hate him on sight, or at the very least fear him, but all she could think every time he was in her presence was how good he smelled, and how hot he looked. Unfortunately, now she could add how amazing his hands felt on her body to that list. God, the simple glide of one coarse fingertip over the top of her breast made her hotter than the entire sex act with her last boyfriend. How the hell was she supposed to function knowing all that lived only a few feet and some layers of drywall away, but she could never have it?
“Holly, I feel terrible. I’ve never been to LJ’s place, so I had no idea he lived next to you. I’d never have asked you to come if I’d known what the situation was.” Jazz sounded genuinely upset.
“Because you wouldn’t have wanted to bring someone connected to the sheriff around your friends?” Holly turned her head until she met Jazz’s gaze. An unfair question for sure. Jazz had been nothing but great since Holly met her. First with the job offer, then letting Holly tag along on her Saturday night plans, and now taking the time away from her real friends to talk Holly off the ledge. Even knowing all that, Holly had to find out for sure whether Jazz would turn her back on her now that she knew the connection to local law enforcement.
“No. I’m not like that. Most of the people here aren’t. They won’t judge you based on your family. Will they be wary until they learn whether you’re a threat? Sur
e, but if you want to be here, want to be friends with the club, you won’t be judged. Especially not by me. Trust me,” she said with a self-deprecating laugh. “There is no one who understands fucked up family dynamics more than me. I’m the last one to throw stones. The glass of my house is so cheaply made, a cotton ball could shatter it.”
Seemed Jazz had a story. Holly genuinely liked the other woman. Hopefully, this tentative friendship could continue to grow, and Jazz would one day get to the point where she felt comfortable confiding in Holly. For that to happen, she’d have to earn the other woman’s trust. Best way to do that was to show vulnerability herself. “My relationship with my father is complicated. When I was a kid, he worked for years in the gang unit. Some of the shit he’s seen and dealt with…” Holly shook her head. She wasn’t ready to talk about Joy with her new friend. Too personal for such a new relationship.
After clearing her throat, Holly continued. “Anyway, his anger last night was more about me and our family’s past than this club.”
“I’ve only lived here about a year, but all the people associated with this club have become my family. If you give them a chance, LJ included, you’ll find that there are some damn good men and women here. Now, come on, enough serious shit for the night.” She grabbed Holly’s hand and tugged. “If we’re not going to leave, then it’s time for some fun.”
Twenty minutes and another shot later, Holly could admit to having a good time. Actually, a great time. Sure, about every forty-five seconds or so, she scanned the room for LJ, but other than that, she loved the women of the Hell’s Handlers MC. They were funny, tough, sweet, and badass all in varying degrees.
And then there was Izzy. An absolutely gorgeous, tall woman with her hair in a long Dutch braid. She had the most adorable baby bump that appeared in contrast with her kick-ass personality. Izzy seemed awesome. The type of independent, sassy woman Holly only wished she could be. Until she decided to turn the conversation onto Holly herself.