Vipers Rule

by Stephanie Tyler

  It made her even more aroused to know that she was helpless, her mouth around him while she was fully clothed, pleasing him without him touching her . . . at least not where she wanted—needed—him to.

  And yet she was getting so much pleasure from this. Her nipples pulled taut, brushed almost painfully against the cotton of her T-shirt. She wanted to wrap her legs around one of his thighs and just grind against him.

  When she glanced up, the heated look he gave her seared through her body, telling her that he wanted her as badly as she wanted him.

  She wanted more, willed him to come. His expression pulled taut, and then he growled and tugged her away from him and to her feet.

  Before she knew what was happening, she was in the bed, her sweats dragged down. By the time she got her bearings, Tals was grinning wickedly, his face between her legs. And then he dipped his head down and began to lick her.

  The room spun as he licked and laved her. His hands slid up her wrists, then found her nipples. It was the perfect storm. She arched up simultaneously into his palms and his mouth, and he seemed to encourage her quickening orgasm. It slammed her. Her muscles locked as her body thrashed against the mattress, although firmly held in place by him.

  She heard the crinkle of a condom wrapper, and when he slid inside of her, she instinctively wrapped around him, pulling him deeper, locking him in. Melding him to her.

  “I’m back, Tals,” she murmured. “I’m here with you.”

  * * *

  He wanted to believe her, and it was his choice to accept her words or remain skeptical. At that moment he accepted them, sank into her warmth and let her lull him into a post-orgasmic haze and out the other end as she revved him right back up.

  “You’re insatiable.”

  “Yes,” he agreed seriously.

  “Incorrigible.”

  “And it turned you the fuck on.”

  It was her turn to say, “Yes.”

  He smiled, then got serious. “Are you all right?”

  She gave him a warm, lazy smile. “How could I not be?” Then she paused. “Right. My life outside that door is falling to shit.”

  Thankfully, she laughed a little, and he shook his head. “It’ll work out, Maddie. It always does.”

  “Tenn seems pretty immovable.”

  “Honestly, I’m more worried about your ex.”

  “Yeah.” She gnawed on her bottom lip. “He can be unpredictable. A little out of control sometimes, but—”

  “Did he hit you?” Tals demanded.

  “God no. He never laid a hand on me.” She paused. “But his hands were all over other women.”

  “When did you find that out?”

  “A while ago,” she admitted, locking her gaze to his. “I knew we were falling out of love. Maybe he was never really in love with me. But I was focused on work. So focused, I made it my everything because I don’t have anything else.”

  Her whole explanation was a challenge—and her chin jutted, eyes defiant.

  If she’d been a man, no one would give a second thought to her work ethic. But she wasn’t a man. Emotions got the best of her, and really, Tals always admired women and their emotions and how easily they could express themselves.

  But Maddie was more like him—circumspect. A loner, despite all the girls and guys who crowded around her most days in high school. She was always surrounded, and she’d never appeared to like it.

  She admitted as much to him the night he’d rescued her from Earl, the star quarterback who was currently on his fourth wife, thanks to a combination of family money and alcohol. Following in his family’s tradition of all fucked-up.

  “Do you want me to call any of your friends? Let them know where you are?”

  She frowned, like he was speaking a different language. “These people aren’t my friends. I knew it then, but . . . geography. High school seems to be all about geography.”

  She was referring to the two distinct sides of Skulls Creek, but she was right. “Life is all about geography.”

  “You’re right. And I can’t help but think . . . what we had, it was so innocent and perfect.”

  “I was never innocent, Maddie. Trust me. If you could’ve read my mind . . .”

  “Don’t think I couldn’t.” She smiled. “But it was innocent. I don’t care what you say. It was romantic. You were romantic.”

  “Past tense?”

  She shook her head. “You’ve still got it. You set the bar high. You were always a gentleman to me, when the other guys who were supposed to be gentlemen weren’t.”

  “Earl had been on me for a while. He found out we were hanging out,” Tals admitted. “I told him to fuck off, that we were just friends, that if you wanted to date him, you would.”

  God, it was making so much sense now, Earl’s anger at her that night. His taunts of, “You’re already giving it away to trash, so why not to me?” rang in her ears. She hadn’t thought anyone knew, but she supposed that was naive. It’s not like she spoke with her friends much beyond the superficial, who’s dating who, what are you wearing to prom . . . and now she knew they were gossiping behind her back about a time in her life that was probably the most special.

  She’d been in a vacuum. Her own little world, leaving Tals to deal with the fallout. “I had no idea . . .”

  “I know. I didn’t want you to deal with it.” His face was grim. “You weren’t the first girl Earl pulled this on. It’s just that most of them didn’t make him wait and wait before going out on a date.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut as she swore she could still hear the sound of Tals’s fist hitting Earl’s cheek, the snap of Earl’s cheekbone, the swift curse of Tals as he ever so gently got her out of Earl’s grasp and into his truck. “The morning I went home, you went to Earl’s.”

  “Damn straight.” The anger in his voice was still apparent. “I didn’t tell anyone. Didn’t ask for help. Didn’t think to wait before I beat the shit out of him.”

  “You blame yourself for what happened? Tals, that’s on me.”

  “No, it’s not. You have no idea, but it’s not.”

  And then she stared at him, pressed her lips together like she was deciding whether or not to say something. Finally, she did. “If you hadn’t stopped Earl, we both know what would’ve happened. I shouldn’t have put myself in that situation. I’d heard rumors, but . . .”

  Tals broke in. “It wasn’t just you, Maddie. There were others, and they weren’t so lucky.”

  She shuddered, like she was just realizing that there were so many predators in the world. They were all so vulnerable. “So you took care of it.”

  * * *

  Tals gazed at her with clear eyes and, she guessed, a clear conscience. He had a code, and he lived and died by it. He had his line in the sand, had drawn it early and refused to step over it. And he’d hooked himself up with a group of men who held to the same standards. “I’ve lived a lot, Maddie. MC, military, not counting the early years. And I’ve seen too many things not to take a stand, no matter the cost. And trust me, there’s always a cost.”

  “And you bear that burden because of me.”

  “It’s not that part of it that bothers me,” he told her.

  “I should’ve said something sooner. I wanted to go to the police after you brought me home. But I told my father and Grams, and they both said—”

  “That Earl was from an old Southern family. That no one would believe you. That you shouldn’t have been alone with him, that I was trash and who would believe me,” he told her, and she couldn’t deny that all of those things had come out of her father’s mouth. “I can’t believe you told them.”

  “I wanted them to know how I felt about you. Grams loved Earl, and I wanted her to know what a bastard he was. And even if they told me not to say anything, I was still old enough. I could’ve spoken up to the police the very first time they came to me and asked me about your supposed obsession with me—they talked to me alone,” she admitted.

&n
bsp; His gaze was steady, his eyes taking on that haunted look again. “I don’t know what you want me to say. I think you want me to excuse you and tell you it was okay to run. And I’ve done that. You did it before the Earl incident and after, and I know you were scared as fuck. But you had a phone—my phone number. And if you’d stuck with me . . .” He cleared his throat. “Forget it. I’m probably expecting too much from a seventeen-year-old.”

  “But I expected the same thing, and I got it,” she admitted, then practically whispered, “You knew he wasn’t a good guy.”

  “I have radar for that shit.”

  “I wish I did. Wish I could spot the good.”

  “You do.”

  They’d had almost the exact same conversation that night after Earl. At the time, she hadn’t realized he was talking about him.

  “Why did you come back here?” he asked.

  I had nowhere else to go.

  But the truth was, no matter how hard she tried to forget Tals, the more he invaded her mind.

  When you love someone, you lose control. Love makes you powerless.

  Chapter 15

  In the end the meeting hadn’t fully rectified the issues Preacher had with some of the younger Vipers members. But the very next night, he got a call that he knew would drive the point home to his MC.

  “Bear, get everyone here ASAP.”

  Bear nodded, then frowned and asked, “Everyone?” before letting his eyes drift upward. He didn’t have to mention Tals by name—everyone knew he and Maddie had been holed up together since last night, and that they were doing more than talking.

  “Leave him. Everyone else,” Preacher reiterated.

  “Big trouble?”

  “Just a wannabe one-percenter club who likes to ride through cities and towns, making trouble.”

  Bear smiled, because Bear loved a good fight, and then he began assembling the others.

  Of course this new MC knew Vipers was in town, but they assumed that Vipers was part of the MC brotherhood that would allow another MC to fuck up their town—as long as they weren’t fucking up a Vipers-owned business.

  They assumed fucking wrong. Even though Kelly’s Pub wasn’t Vipers-owned, it was part of Skulls Creek, and what was good for Skulls was good for Vipers and vice versa. And this fly-by-night MC? They were going down.

  Less than forty minutes later, Bear had efficiently rounded everyone up—and those working the bar and the tattoo parlor were on speakerphones and Skype. Preacher informed them what was going on, how they were going up against this MC that needed a good beatdown.

  “Let’s put what we discussed at the meeting last night to the test. Like I said, you’re all drinking and fucking around, and that’s motherfucking great when everything in town is going fine.”

  But some of the younger members still didn’t get it. One of them protested, “Vipers is fine—no one fucks with us now that we took care of Heathens.”

  Preacher’s controlled wrath focused on him. “Vipers might be fine, but Skulls isn’t. And we owe Skulls.”

  “Even though they hate us,” the kid muttered.

  “Yeah, even though they hate us. We don’t shit where we eat, and we don’t let anyone else do it either. Even though Skulls might not appreciate us, we live here—that means we have a responsibility to control what others can’t.”

  “And law enforcement can’t—that’s for damned sure,” Rally added firmly, and that was a truth. Law enforcement in Skulls up against forty violent bikers? A fucking disaster.

  “Let’s roll,” Preacher told them. “Bear and Tim, you’ll stay here with the bar. I’ve got two guys at the tattoo shop and Tals is at the clubhouse.”

  Those were safeguards in case of retaliation, plus that left Vipers behind to post bail, because arrest was always a possibility.

  Next he called Holly directly. He didn’t doubt for a second she’d been listening in to the meeting with the Vipers guys who bodyguarded the shop. It was the first time he’d spoken to her directly since he’d kissed her. She hadn’t made a move to come into his room, and even though it killed him, he’d stayed in his room last night.

  He hadn’t slept alone in a year. Holly barely noticed he slid into bed with her—or so he told himself—but damned, he’d gotten used to the comforts of her scent, her soft breathing . . .

  “What’s the problem?” she asked calmly, sounding almost bored.

  His hackles were already up. He growled, “Go to the clubhouse and stay there.”

  She remained unimpressed. Slightly exasperated even. “I’ve got clients. A business to run.”

  “Cancel your appointments. The shop can stay open.” There was a pause, enough of one to know that Holly wasn’t going to follow his orders. “I swear to fuck, I’ll have the guys carry you out of there.”

  “Let them try.”

  And she hung up on him.

  Hung. Up.

  He almost threw the phone across the room, let it shatter with the anger Holly seemed to bring out in him more and more lately.

  He got why she’d fight to stay in the shop, even with the threat of violence—last time she’d been forced into that situation, she’d handled it, saved Calla and Cage’s brother and herself.

  And then she’d nearly had a breakdown. Her PTSD had gotten worse for a bit, but he had to grudgingly admit that it had receded and she seemed stronger than ever.

  Maybe that worries you?

  And maybe he should stop Dr. Phil-ing himself and go beat the shit out of some assholes.

  * * *

  Before Maddie knew it, nearly forty-eight hours had passed. Tals kept reassuring her that things were okay, that some Vipers guys had been watching Grams’s house and it was all quiet there. But they knew no more than they had last night.

  When Tals went to talk to Preacher, Maddie had no problem staying behind and showering. She wrapped herself in a towel after inspecting her healing tattoo and went to rifle through Tals’s drawers, since all her clothes were at Grams’s. She certainly wasn’t troubling Tals or any of the other guys to make a trip inside.

  No, there was a fragile peace happening now, especially between her and Tals. She needed to make sure they got past forty-eight hours this way.

  The door opened and Holly strutted in without knock or explanation, wordlessly dropped some clothes on the bed, smirked at Maddie and walked out.

  “Wait,” Maddie called out, but clipped British tones simply said, “I’m late for work. Make sure you’re putting lotion on that fresh ink.”

  With that, the door shut. “See you at the shop,” she murmured to the closed door, but hey, she was more than grateful for the pile of black leggings and plain V-neck tees. Casual. Chic. Comfy. She pulled on another outfit, tried on the gauzy top that floated around her. She felt like Stevie Nicks. In fact, when Tals walked in, she was humming “Gypsy” and fighting the urge to twirl in front of the mirror.

  “All dressed up and no place to go,” he mused.

  “Literally.”

  “I’ll make us some dinner. It’ll be quiet tonight. Lot of guys go to the bar. Holly’s at work next door. There are still guys guarding the building—and others are near your grandmother’s house,” he added.

  “I can help.”

  He looked doubtful. “You can’t cook, remember?”

  “Well, I don’t know if that’s technically true. I’ve never tried to cook.”

  “Honey, you’re not starting now. Not when I’m starving.” He turned and walked away, but she followed him to the kitchen, asking, “So what am I supposed to do?”

  “Stand there and look pretty?” he suggested, and when she turned around, scanning the open surface, he asked, “What are you doing?”

  “Looking for something heavy enough to throw at you.”

  “Check the cabinets,” Tals advised. “And let me know when to duck.”

  Instead she sat there while he made them breakfast for dinner. Tals was flipping pancakes expertly—with chocolate chips thread
ed through them.

  “God, these smell delicious,” she moaned, leaning in toward the pan.

  “Hey, let the cook work in peace,” he admonished. “Grab the plates.”

  “Jeez, you’re bossy.” She hip-checked him lightly, and the teasing smile he gave her made her heart flip. Those damned butterflies again. He’d always been the only one to give her butterflies.

  How could she have let that go?

  He’s here now, she reminded herself. That was the only thing that mattered for the moment. That was always the only thing that should’ve mattered. And so she reached up and kissed him, and it went from hot to scalding in about five seconds, and it had nothing to do with the stove. No, in fact, she heard the click of the gas shutting off, and then he was carrying her—although she helped by wrapping around him like she’d never let go—and then they were back in his bedroom.

  Naked. Under him. God, yes.

  He moved between her legs before she could protest. This wasn’t something she’d had done to her often—and she hadn’t realized what she’d been missing. Not until Tals’s hot mouth found her most intimate places and owned her. Completely.

  In between the next round of orgasms, Maddie’s stomach growled and he laughed softly. “After this, gotta make you new pancakes.”

  “Can we eat them in bed?”

  “I’m not sure we’ll ever get to eat them that way,” he mused.

  “That’s not the worst thing.”

  “Definitely not,” he agreed.

  “Gotta make it past forty-eight hours,” she murmured, more to herself, but the look on Tals’s face told her she’d said it out loud—and that she probably shouldn’t have. “I didn’t mean—”

  “I know what you meant, Maddie. It’s okay. I wouldn’t mind breaking that record either.”

  * * *

  And then, in the middle of that romantic moment, her stomach growled. Loudly.

  He grinned. “Hold that thought.” He tugged his jeans on and left the room, only to return fifteen minutes later with plated pancakes on a tray. He put it on the bed next to her, then picked up the syrup and whipped cream he’d also brought and stared at them like he was making the most important decision in the world.