by Karen Renee
“Well, thank you. And I’m sorry to hear you were cheated on—”
She waved me away. “Enh. It was nearly a decade ago. I’ve moved on, and I’ve damn sure moved on up. If you know what I mean,” she said with an eyebrow waggle.
Roman chuckled and she sauntered off. “I bet I’d be a form of movin’ on up for you. So, which is it? One woman many times or...”
I sighed. “According to Trent’s blackmailer, there were four women —though I’m unsure if some were one time only things or if there were multiple...instances.”
Turning to look at Roman, I saw he was doing a poor job of hiding his need to quirk his lips.
“None of this is funny.”
He shook his head and cleared his expression. “Promise you, I’m not laughing at what happened. I find it hilarious that you refer to fucking as ‘instances.’”
I took a large sip of wine to keep myself from saying, “Not helping,” because I knew that wouldn’t help this conversation either.
CHAPTER 12
SOMETIMES I HAD TO wonder if I had an underdeveloped bladder. Compared to everyone else I hung with, I always had to break the seal sooner than anyone else. At twenty-nine, though, I had accepted my lot in life.
Wiping my washed hands with a paper towel, I used the half-used paper to twist the handle to the women’s room open. I wedged my foot in front of the door, and tossed the paper in the trash.
Eyes on my foot holding the door open, I moved forward two steps and ran smack into a human torso. My eyes followed that torso up to a neck, and then I noticed blond stubble on a well-defined chin. Rearing my head back, I realized Beast was standing in front of me.
“You drinkin’ with Roman?”
“Yes. Um, no. Actually, not really.”
His eyes hardened. “Which one is it, Country Club?”
That pissed me off. My hands went to my hips. “Not really is which one it is, but more importantly, it’s not your business.”
“‘Not my business?,’” he growled. “I took your back when your douchebag tried to force it with you. I schlepped your furniture to where you’re livin’, and you drinkin’ with Roman isn’t my business?”
I crossed my arms under my breasts. “I didn’t ask you to do any of that.”
“The fuck you didn’t.”
“I didn’t. I wanted to see Andrea, she was out cold. You horned in. I asked Andi if Liar would be willing to help me out. I did not ask you to schlep a damn thing for me.”
Next thing I knew, my back was to the wall, Beast’s coarse hands were cupping both my cheeks, and his lips were on mine. He took full advantage of my surprised gasp and slipped his tongue into my mouth.
Holy hell.
I managed to unfold my arms and wrap one around his solid back. The other arm was trapped, but my hand curled into his t-shirt. His head slanted, his tongue went deeper and I let my tongue delve into his mouth. Our breaths mingled, and he tasted like beer and a flavor that could only be Beast. Heat was swirling low in my belly, and my breath hitched pushing my breasts into his chest. His mouth tore away from me, but he rested his forehead on mine.
I opened my eyes, and breathed, “God damn it.”
His eyes blazed at me. “You shittin’ me?”
I was and I wasn’t. Even though I breathed out my sentiment, there was tone in it that I didn’t mean. I took too long with my answer.
“You this hard on every man’s ego?”
“No. I didn’t want you to do that. It’s wrong.”
“Just like you didn’t want me to listen to your problems? Didn’t want me to drive you to the compound after seein’ that cluster that night at your country club gate, and didn’t want me to help Liar move your shit?”
I pressed my lips together for a moment. The answer was, yeah, but I wasn’t going to say that. “I loved that, but I didn’t want you to do it because this can’t go anywhere. I’m not doing—”
“I fuckin’ know that, Janie. Been wantin’ to do that to you since you nearly tripped, but you shovin’ shit in my face just now...I couldn’t help it. I’d apologize, but I wouldn’t mean it. That kiss was great. Damn near phenomenal. Good to know you love it. I want more, but I’m not gonna do that to you. Roman would, but I would not.”
I loved it? Oh crap. I said that! Where was my damn filter when I needed it! My mind caught on what he said about Roman. “So, you’re being noble by leaving me be?”
Hypnotized by his azure eyes, it wasn’t until he smiled that I realized I was leaning into him with my hand still clenched his shirt. I tried to lean back, but he wrapped an arm around my neck and the other around my waist. “Oh no you don’t. Not quite yet. Wanna feel your softness up against me a little longer.”
I sighed through my nose. “Nice as that sounds, it’s not a good idea.”
A roguish grin lit his face. “Good ideas are rarely as fun as the bad ones.”
“Always an answer for everything.”
“Far from it,” he said.
His head lowered, lips brushing mine then settling in as he angled my head where he wanted me. This kiss was gentler but no less passionate. My breasts swelled and my whole chest warmed because his actions told me he would be this good or better in bed. I yearned to drive my hand into his hair. That urge shook me out of the moment and I wrenched my lips free.
“Dammit!” I hissed.
He chuckled. “Gotta say, that’s a step up from ‘God damn it!’ Maybe if I kiss you three more times I’ll get your true response.”
“No,” I cried. “No more kissing!”
“Then no more drinking.”
“What?” I asked trying to break out of his hold.
“You had two drinks right? Time for you to go back to your palace.”
“My palace?”
“What it’s called. Big sign out front, babe.”
“Aren’t you observant,” I said and nearly stumbled backward because Beast finally loosened his grip against my trying to step back from him.
His hands shot to my shoulders. “Are you steady? Or did you sneak a shot in there with the wine?”
“No! I know better than that. I just didn’t expect you to finally let go of me.”
He gave me a strange look along with an eyebrow arch.
I steadied myself and stepped around him. “Lucky for you, I need to get to the other side of the river. I hope you have a nice evening, Beast.”
IT WAS SHORTLY AFTER twelve-thirty on Monday, and my hands were as full as they’d ever been. I had two cellophane bags dangling from my fingers on my left hand, and a four-cup drink holder perched in my right hand with my keyring snug on my index finger. Needless to say, I was on a lunch run. I put the drinks on the roof of the Versa, and set the bags next to it. I was fumbling with the key fob when a man approached me from the side. Wawa was pretty upscale for a gas station, but vagrants and panhandlers were prevalent everywhere, so I steeled myself to tell this person I didn’t have any cash on me. It was the truth, because Bobby had sent me out with the company card.
When the man stopped approaching he was in my space. His beard was unkempt and he even had stubble on the upper portion of his cheek, that needed to be plucked or kept in check but wasn’t. My attention was drawn from his cheeks to his angry-looking dark hazel eyes when he spoke.
“Tell your husband to be more successful or you’re up next.”
My eyebrows furrowed and my eyes narrowed as I gave him a questioning look.
His lips curled into a sinister smile. “Nessie tells me you’re as uptight as they come. Been a long time since I had a fighter on my hands.”
I pressed my lips together to hide my lip curl of disgust and also to keep myself from acknowledging I knew who ‘Nessie’ was.
“Who’s Nessie? And not that it’s your business, but my husband and I are separated. He’s not going to listen to–”
My vision blurred as my face shot to the side from a vicious backhand. Pain exploded in my cheek, and my nose stung
from immediate tears in my eyes.
Shit, fuck and damn. I hated crying and letting this motherfucker see me cry was the last thing I wanted to do.
The man yanked my hair so my head was tilted. He growled into my ear. “Make him listen.”
Letting go of my hair, he turned just as quick and probably never noticed my tears. I took three shaky breaths before feeling steady enough to open the door. Part of me wanted to run inside to report the incident, but then I realized Trent would be involved. I didn’t care if he was exposed for being a shady politician, but something told me keeping this quiet was better for the time being.
I loaded the food and drinks into the car so I could drive back to work. The office was quiet because Nancy, the other project manager-slash-assistant, was out to lunch, and the owner-operators were in the conference room together. I dropped my purse and one of the two bags on my desk. Bobby had told me to barge in with lunch when I got back, so I scurried into the conference room with food and three of the drinks. Bobby, James and Quinton had ordered sub sandwiches while Gavin was doing some sort of juice cleanse.
I set the drink container between James, Quinton, and Bobby, but before I could hand out subs, Bobby caught my eye.
“Janie. What in the hell happened to your cheek?”
I fought laughing, partly because my adrenaline was wearing off and partly because of Bobby’s calm demeanor. It was crazy for me to think this, but Liar or Roman, maybe even Beast (okay, definitely Beast) would have asked the same question but with so many differences it wasn’t even funny. Legitimately, Liar thought of me as an annoying little sister —he told me so over shots once Andi was fully moved in— but he would have hissed, growled, or used some other animalistic means to voice the very same question.
Bobby, James, Quinton, and Gavin were cool as cucumbers while looking rather concerned.
“Nothing,” I said as smoothly as I could. “Two meatball subs and–”
“Nothing, my ass,” Quinton bit out, and since I reported directly to him, I froze. He continued. “Jane Palmer, we’ve only worked together four days and four hours, but if you think you can pull the wool over my eyes, you got another think comin’. Now, tell us the truth.”
I inhaled deep, ready to rip the band-aid off, but a tinny-sounding voice came through the boomerang-shaped conference phone extension. “Janie’s there?”
I had yet to interact directly with very many clients, but the familiarity of the voice —and calling me Janie— told me it was probably the Riot MC on the line.
“Yes, sir,” I chirped.
“Answer their question,” a different voice demanded. That voice almost sounded like Liar, but I knew it was Beast.
I wasn’t going to lie to my employers, but I did not want to tell Beast the truth.
I pasted on a smile. “I’m sorry, Mr. Huntley,” I started in my smoothest political voice, “But I’m simply dropping off coffees and sandwiches. I’ll let you men–”
There was an ugly banging sound from the phone speaker. It scared me and I stiffened like a soldier.
“What. In the fuck. Happened. To. Your. Cheek, Jane Ramos?” Beast angry-growled.
It was not lost on me that he used my maiden name. I’d have to find out how he knew that little tidbit later.
“I was slapped.”
Hissing could be heard around the table, but even over the phone the silence from Riot was heavy.
“Beast, do not touch the damn phone,” I heard Cal’s gruff voice order.
At the same time, Quinton said, “No woman slaps like that.”
It was faint, but I heard Beast’s voice in the background. “Fuck this shit. Fifteen minutes, they eat — whatever — I’ll be on the other end of this call.”
What did that mean? Seriously, who was I trying to fool? I knew what that meant. Beast was hauling his ass over here because I’d been hit.
“Tell him to stay there. Or stand down, or whatever you guys say.”
“Too late for that, woman,” Cal grumbled.
Just what I needed.
James shot a hard look my way. “Quinton’s right. Who the hell hit you like that?”
I sighed audibly, and while the laid-back I.T. guys were willing to give me that time to collect my thoughts, the Riot MC guys were not.
“Yeah, Janie. This is Volt, by the way. Who hit you?” he asked.
I frowned, for all the good it did me. “I don’t know his name, but he was wearing a leather vest—”
“Cut,” someone on the phone line put in.
“Yeah, but I didn’t see his name patch. But, it’s the guy who’s been after Trent.”
“Grind,” Cal said.
I shrugged, not that anyone could see it.
“Let me get this straight,” Quinton started, “Our new project manager-slash-assistant has issues with some MC jackass you guys know?”
“No,” I said at the same time I heard Volt say it.
There was silence, and I felt obligated to fill it. “My husband is being coerced by some MC jackass to cause problems for the Riot MC. I’ve told them about it, but I guess the Riot being prepared means Trent’s failed to do what this guy wants. Now he’s insists I get Trent to be more successful.”
“And he hit you during this conversation?” Gavin asked in his scratchy smoker’s voice.
I lifted my chin at him.
“You said he slapped you, someone said he hit you. Which one is it?” Volt asked.
I lifted a shoulder, and realized he couldn’t see it. “He backhanded me, and seeing as Bobby noticed it right off, I presume it left a mark.”
“She presumed it left a mark,” a muffled voice said.
I turned on my heel, because I didn’t need any men, even over the phone, to give me guff about being slapped by a biker.
“No, ma’am,” Quinton said to my backside.
I turned and arched an eyebrow at him. If I lost the job because of this, it would be bad, but no way could I put up with being ordered about with simplicities like ‘No, ma’ams’ when they weren’t appropriate, let alone communicative.
Quinton smiled at me. “You stick around for a bit.”
“May I grab my food?” I asked, and I knew I was pushing it, but I was edging into hangry territory.
“Be quick,” he muttered.
I zipped over to my desk, grabbed my food, drink, and a steno pad, then I parked my tush in a chair on the opposite end of the table from the men. This wasn’t me being anti-social or anything, it was because I knew they were planning to meet alone and that meant they didn’t need me in the room. I had downed one quesadilla triangle when Beast stormed into the room.
I slid my eyes to him, and his hands settled extremely low on his hips, so they rested beneath his front pockets. It should’ve looked lame, but it was lip-bitingly sexy.
“Up,” he nearly barked.
I shook my head. “I’m sorry, are you talking to me?”
“Clumsy, this is no time to get lippy.”
“Took the words right out of my mouth,” I muttered, before wrapping my lips around the straw of my iced coffee.
“Janie. How about you take this man out to the lobby? We’ll see him in here when we’re ready,” James said.
Wouldn’t do to argue with the boss’s brother, so I stood up and faced Beast.
“Turn your cheek, Janie,” Beast demanded.
I turned my cheek to an angle in exasperation, but it was the wrong cheek.
“Woman,” he growled, and I heard snickers from the speaker phone.
I acquiesced, and then I flinched when he traced my cheek.
“Fuckin’ fucker,” Beast bit out. “Let’s go, Country Club,” he said, grabbing my hand.
I dug my feet in. “Whoa, whoa. What do you mean, let’s go? I’m at work. I got a check to earn, Beast.”
“Rest of the day off,” I heard Bobby and Quinton say at the same time.
I glared over my shoulder at them, but Beast tightened his hold on my hand and
dragged me out of the conference room.
CHAPTER 13
Beast
DEEP DOWN HE KNEW HE shouldn’t be there, but the hounds of hell wouldn’t have kept him from straddling his bike to get to Janie. Hearing Grind, or someone like him, had hit her didn’t make his blood boil. It made his blood superheated and supercharged. Never had he felt this way, and to save his life he couldn’t figure out why he did. Except, visions of Janie’s delicate porcelain skin being marked filled his mind, and the notion someone like Grind had done that enraged him.
“Hey! I haven’t even eaten half my food, mister. Let me go. I need to eat. You do not want to see me when I’m hangry.”
He wanted to chuckle, but he turned narrowed eyes to her. “I’ll feed you.”
That was true, mostly, but those were the wrong three words for him to say because his mind filled with a vision of his cock down her delicate throat. That would be the best way to feed her. Fuck! He needed to clear the X-rated thoughts. Resolving to focus on keeping Janie safe, he kept prowling forward, his hand slightly behind him since she was dragging-ass.
“Are you going to get me one of the best quesadillas I’ve had in months, and an iced skinny caramel macchiato?”
Even if he said so himself, he was a pretty sharp guy, so he had noticed everyone’s food came from Wawa.
He squinted at her briefly. “It came from a convenience store. If that’s the best damn quesadilla you’ve had in months, then I’ll be more than happy to introduce you to a better one, no matter how I have to do it. Even if I have to make you a quesadilla my damn self. Now let’s go.”
She tugged on his arm again while locking her legs. “What, pray tell, is the big hurry?”
He knew what she meant, but he felt like fucking with her. “Not sure what praying has to do with anything right now, but if Grind found your ass doing a lunch run for your bosses, then odds are, he’s got eyes on you elsewhere, too. Now, let’s go.”