Vipers Rule

by Stephanie Tyler

  “What’s up?” she asked.

  “Not sure which one I want to use.” He sat next to her and motioned for her to come closer. “Gonna need a taste test.”

  She stared at him as he tugged the T-shirt she wore—his—off her shoulder. Then he grabbed the whipped cream and drew a line of it across her shoulder . . . and promptly licked it off.

  And looked way too pleased with himself. “Good?” she asked.

  “You tell me.” He kissed her, and she tasted Tals mixed with the sweet cream.

  “That’s nice.”

  “Now the syrup.” He poured it lightly, licking before it could drip down her shoulder. And then he kissed her again.

  Before she could say anything, he was yanking the T-shirt up, covering one of her nipples with the syrup and sucking it off, the delicious friction of his tongue against her nipple causing her to shiver. “We’re never getting to those pancakes, are we?”

  “Not anytime soon,” he agreed, already covering her nipple again with whipped cream and licking it off, teasing her nipple. She twined her hand through his hair and hissed his name.

  He stopped, then casually tugged her shirt down. “I’m going to use both,” he said decisively.

  “Now that I’m sticky.” She mock pouted.

  He sighed, shook his head. “I guess I’ll have to take care of that.” With that, he picked her up, forcing her to wrap herself around him. He didn’t let her down until he reached the bathroom, and even then he kept her close, her body between him and the wall while he turned the water on.

  While they waited for the steam of the shower to float around them, she wrapped a leg around his waist and pulled him down for a kiss. She wasn’t thinking about anything but Tals and orgasms, and that felt so good. She couldn’t remember the last time she was this relaxed, and she planned on stretching it out as long as possible before real life dropped in on them again.

  When the bathroom was sufficiently steamy, he made quick work of the sticky T-shirt and his jeans, and he carried her into the shower. It was a large glass enclosure and Tals fiddled with the handles so water was spouting from all directions. Under the main rain shower, he turned her around, and she grabbed the towel bar, leaning forward slightly. His cock brushed against her ass cheeks, his fingers brushed her belly, then moved between her legs to tease her clit. He bit her shoulder lightly, then licked, then nipped again, and just when she felt his hardness between her legs, it disappeared, only to be replaced by his tongue.

  He’d gotten on his knees, burying his face between her legs while she stood, helpless, grabbing the towel bar while he took her. She was aware she was crying out, moaning—rocking her hips as much as she could, but he held her pretty well in place, tugging at her hips, forcing her to lean forward farther.

  He exposed her in a way she’d never been, and he made it feel so right, so natural. It would never be like this with anyone else, and she’d known that well before she’d ever made love to him for the first time.

  That time had been so tame compared to this, and it had still been amazing. But this . . . they were older. Wiser.

  She was still in love with him. She’d never stopped.

  With that thought in mind, she came with a hard jolt, and she probably would’ve slid to the tile floor if he hadn’t been holding her. But he was, even as he got off his knees, pressed his chest to her back and entered her.

  She went up on her toes as he filled her, his mouth wet against the side of her neck. He sucked hard, and it would leave a mark.

  She wanted it to.

  From there it was a blur of orgasms, soapy-smelling suds as he gently washed her . . . and then proceeded to get her dirty all over again.

  * * *

  Tals couldn’t get enough of her. They could stay in this shower, this room for days and months, and he could remain inside of her like he never wanted to let her go.

  Because he didn’t. Had no idea what would happen when they left the shower and the room, no clue especially what she’d do when she was out of the clubhouse. Because that would mean she was safe. Free to go—back to her family, her ex, her old life. Free to run.

  Right now he didn’t care. Couldn’t. He’d take his fill, the way he should’ve all those years ago. He should’ve gone with her to her house, taken her out of there.

  At the very least, he could’ve visited her when she left Skulls. Fought for what he wanted.

  Except you were in the military to avoid getting into more trouble, he reminded himself, and then he shut down the thinking part of his brain in favor of simply feeling . . . her smooth skin against his, the beat of her heart against his chest when he brought her to the bed, toweled them off and lay next to her. He ran his hands through her long, damp hair, untangling it, watching it dry wild, making her look sexy as hell. Like a real MC chick.

  His MC old lady.

  He wouldn’t make the same mistakes. He’d protect her—and himself.

  * * *

  The knocks interrupted them . . . right after Maddie had come. And she hadn’t been quiet. “Oh my God,” she whispered against his shoulder. “Did they hear?”

  “No, I’m sure they didn’t,” Tals reassured her, even though she felt him fighting to hold in a laugh. “What’s up? I’m busy.”

  The door cracked. “Dude, I realize that. But Detective Flores is here,” Bear said in a mock whisper. “She’s saying you’ve kidnapped Maddie.”

  At that Maddie turned to look at Bear, who continued. “Obviously, she doesn’t know what those moans mean.”

  Maddie’s cheeks flushed hot, but Bear was grinning conspiratorially at her. He even winked, as if to say, You go, girl.

  Sex was nothing to be ashamed of here.

  Sex was nothing to be ashamed of at all.

  “Tell her Maddie will be right out,” Tals said, and Bear nodded and shut the door.

  With that she straightened up, grabbed Tals’s discarded T-shirt, which went to her thighs—and slid off her shoulder—and prepared to go talk to Detective Flores. “Is this bad?”

  “It’s never good when the police show, Maddie,” Tals said as he tugged his jeans on and grabbed a flannel shirt that he buttoned a few times over his bare chest.

  It was painfully obvious what they’d been doing, which, as Bear said, eliminated the whole kidnapping charge. “How do the police know I’m here? Do you think they went to Grams’s house and saw your guys or something?”

  Tals sighed. “No. I don’t think that’s what happened.”

  “Then what? You didn’t tell them about the bomb in my car, right?” She looked into his serious eyes. “You really think this car bomb is about me, don’t you?”

  “I think it’s all connected to your soon-to-be ex. You might not want to hear what I’m going to say, but I think he’s a selfish prick. Whoever’s threatening you has to promise blowback on Hugh, or else he wouldn’t give a shit enough to try to make sure you were safe.”

  She snorted softly at his assessment. “That’s why you wanted me here and not home, because it would be even more dangerous for her to be close to me.” She paused. “Which means I’m dropping the danger right here on Vipers’ doorstep.”

  “Trust me—we can more than deal with it. And we made sure your ex knows it.”

  “When did all this happen?” she asked, but he shook his head. “Okay, probably better I don’t know. But that’s how Detective Flores knew where to find me. Through Hugh?”

  “He’s probably the one who sent her here, yeah,” Tals agreed. “We definitely got his attention. Let’s get out there before she gets more suspicious.”

  She followed him out the door and down the hall, but she went into the kitchen first, where Detective Flores sat right at the table where Maddie had sat watching Tals cook pancakes only an hour ago.

  “This is Maddie,” Rocco said. He was standing by the fridge, wearing just a towel around his waist, his hair wet.

  The detective shot him a look before turning her attention to Maddi
e. “You’re Maddie Wells?” She was a pretty woman, even with the severe suit and the even more severe way she slicked her hair back into a bun.

  Maddie smiled a little. “Yes, and I’m here willingly, of my own volition. Sound mind and body and everything.”

  “Miss Wells, I’d like you to come with me so we can talk alone. Preferably down to the station so I can be sure you’re not under any undue influences.”

  Tals snorted. “Like me?”

  “I don’t understand—what makes you think I’ve been kidnapped? Did someone call you? Is Grams okay?” Maddie wasn’t the greatest liar, but she was excellent at playing the game. It was a skill she’d learned quickly in the business world, not giving away too much and throwing out red herrings. Acting innocent.

  “As far as I know, your grandmother is fine. She’s not the one who contacted us,” Flores said. “It was your husband.”

  “I don’t have a husband,” Maddie shot back.

  “Tell that to the courts, because you’re still legally married,” Flores told her calmly.

  “Why is he calling the police about me?” she pressed. “That doesn’t make sense. We’ve separated. I came back to my hometown. And I’ve known Tals longer than I’ve known Hugh Montgomery.”

  Flores’s eyebrows rose at that, but all she said was, “I think it’s better we have this conversation down at the station.”

  Maddie began to shake her head instinctively, and then Rocco’s voice broke in, asking, “Is she under arrest?”

  Maddie peered out to see Rocco leaning against the opposite wall, staring at Flores so intently, Maddie swore the detective blushed a little. But she got her composure back quickly, which Maddie gave her credit for, since Rocco wore only a towel and was basically dripping wet from a very recent shower.

  And Rocco was something to see. Tall, dark and handsome, he didn’t have as many tattoos as the other guys had, but there were enough to show off the hard planes of his body. And his intense gaze was focused only on Flores.

  Interesting.

  “Of course she’s not,” Flores said. “But cooperating would end this matter more quickly than putting up roadblocks.”

  Rocco turned to Tals, and when Tals nodded, he turned back to Flores. “We need to talk. Without her first. Then you can have some time with her, with me in the room, in this clubhouse.”

  “I’m not speaking with you until you’re properly attired, counsel or no counsel,” Flores muttered.

  Rocco smiled, and Maddie was sure it gave Flores goose bumps. Unless the detective was a robot. “There’s nothing proper about me, Detective. But you already knew that.”

  Flores turned and walked down the hall. “Kitchen. You’ve got two minutes.”

  Maddie definitely couldn’t be the only one who’d noticed that you could cut the tension between Rocco and Flores with a knife . . . It was such a raw, physical energy passing between them that she’d actually felt a little like a voyeur.

  “How can she order us around in our own clubhouse?” Bear asked.

  “She can’t,” Rocco said easily, obviously in no rush. “You all right, Maddie?”

  “I think so. Wait. You’re a lawyer?” she asked, and Rocco nodded. “Are you going to tell her about the car bomb?” she asked him.

  Tals put an arm around her as Rocco nodded. “I’m sure your ex isn’t telling her anything at all about that,” Rocco added.

  “Supposed the detective doesn’t believe you?”

  “She will. Eventually.” With that Rocco pushed off the wall and went back to his room, no doubt to dress.

  She realized it was time for her to do the same. Tals thanked Bear and closed the door so they could both do just that.

  Chapter 16

  It had been months since Rocco had been this close to Detective Lola Flores, and it hadn’t been official police business back then at all. Not when he was murmuring “Lola” in her ear and she was dragging her nails down his back while she came.

  She’d been drunk, but not as drunk as she’d like to pretend—that much he knew. She’d been reeling with guilt after Calla almost died. She’d been doubting herself . . . and she fell into Rocco’s arms. Literally.

  Although he definitely hadn’t taken advantage of her.

  Since then the closest he’d come to seeing her after Calla’s rescue from the hands of a fucking madman, who’d also been a lawman, was having her speed by in her police-issued Chrysler Cutlass, refusing to turn her head to glance at him when he knew damned well she’d spotted him.

  Not that he’d been expecting anything to come from their tryst. Hell, how could it? He’d been shocked enough when it happened, but not too shocked to enjoy the hell out of it. Or to wish it would happen again. And again . . .

  He’d put on a shirt and jeans, sauntered back into the main room to find her stalking around in full angry-detective mode.

  When she saw him, she quickly closed the distance between them, stabbing a finger in his direction. “If you’re trying to undermine me—”

  “I’m doing nothing of the sort,” he said casually. “Trust me—sleeping with you isn’t something I’d trumpet around here. I’m pretty sure it’s grounds for expulsion from the club.”

  She smirked a little at that. “I’m sure it is.”

  “You’ll be my dirty little secret.”

  “There’s nothing dirty about me.”

  He knew she meant that completely different from the way it sounded, but he couldn’t resist telling her, “Lola, you dirty talk better than any woman I’ve ever known.”

  “I’m sure you know many women, Rocco. But we’re not doing this. We’re definitely not doing this here,” she told him furiously. “It’s Detective to you.”

  But it hadn’t been when she’d been rolling her hips under him, crying out his name. He didn’t point that out, not out loud, anyway, but they both knew he was thinking about it. Hell, so was she, if she was honest with herself. “Don’t get yourself twisted, babe.”

  “I’m not your babe,” she said calmly. “If you think you can blackmail me with this . . .”

  “I know that’s the way the police think,” he answered flatly. “I don’t use sex as a weapon. So what happened that night—”

  “It was a mistake,” she interrupted quickly. Decisively.

  He didn’t take the time to examine why that cut him—and way more than he’d expected it to. “I tend to see it as a learning experience. And I learned a lot.”

  She glared at him; then her expression settled back into its serious-cop face as Maddie came back into the room. Rocco bit back a smile, because although Maddie had put pants on, she still wore Tals’s Vipers T-shirt, and she’d tied it to show the edges of a healing tattoo. With her wild-looking hair and sex flush, she definitely looked like a Vipers chick.

  At that moment, Preacher’s voice boomed across the room, demanding, “What the fuck’s going on in my house?”

  “Didn’t want to bother you, Preach. It’s handled,” Rocco said easily as Maddie tensed visibly, which, of course, Flores took note of. “This was a misunderstanding. I’m sure the detective is beginning to realize that. Once she talks to Maddie, she’ll confirm it.”

  Preacher stared steadily at Flores even as he addressed Rocco. “You stay in here during that conversation. Tape it if you have to.”

  “Guilty people think like that,” Flores told him with a smile.

  “People who don’t get caught think like that,” Preacher corrected her, with zero trace of a smile.

  “Reports referencing a brawl at Kelly’s came in tonight,” Flores said casually as she stared first at Preacher’s bruised face and then glanced down at his equally banged-up knuckles.

  Preacher shrugged. “Did you talk to Jessie?”

  “I heard he had nothing to say, but his bar’s intact. No one’s talking.” She smiled tightly. “Know anything about that, Preacher?”

  “Nope,” he answered easily. “But if I get wind of anything, law enforcement is on m
y speed dial.”

  How the guy could say that with a straight face was beyond Rocco, who had to duck his head to hide his grin.

  “Riiiight,” an equally unconvinced Flores drawled. “I’ll be on pins and needles waiting for that call. In the meantime, don’t make the mistake of thinking you’re untouchable.”

  “I don’t make mistakes that would cost my club members or my town, Detective. Skulls is my home and Vipers is my family,” Preacher told her steadily. “Got it?”

  She stared at him.

  “I’m going to assume that’s a yes. I’m also going to assume you know that at any point, I can tell you to get the fuck off my property and try to catch some real criminals, and not to come back if you don’t have a warrant.” And then he crossed his arms. “Clear?”

  “Crystal,” she said through gritted teeth.

  * * *

  When Maddie had come back in to continue her talk with Detective Flores, Rocco was dressed, but the tension in the room was thicker than it had been when he’d been nearly naked. Which was . . . odd. Maybe Preacher wasn’t noticing it—maybe it was something only another woman could pick up on.

  She had bigger things to worry about than Detective Flores’s sex life. And after Preacher marched away, still grumbling about this being his house, she settled in to answer some questions, glad Rocco was there with her.

  “Hugh Montgomery claims he was alerted to your whereabouts and was told that there was a bomb attached to your car last night,” Detective Flores began.

  Rocco nodded, and Maddie said, “I know the second part of what you said is true.”

  “Do you have enemies, Mrs. Montgomery?”

  “Not that I know of. And it’s still Wells. I kept my last name.”

  “Of course you did.” Flores’s smile was tight. “You’re hanging out with some very dangerous men.”

  “Right now it appears that my husband might be the dangerous one.”

  “Can you elaborate?”

  Maddie sighed. “We’re going through a divorce.”