by Kay Maree
Unsurprisingly, Griz’s office door is closed. There’s a lot my brother tolerates from me, but barging into his closed office without warning does not fall into that category. As soon as Tiny steps across the door space and completely blocks it, I take the hint. There’s no fucking way I’m getting in there. The guy is literally like a mountain—tall, wide, imposing, and scary as hell. Well, for those that don’t know him, he is.
“Heya, Tiny.”
He inclines his head. “Sweetness.”
“I’ve got a bone to pick with Griz.”
Tiny’s face remains unchanged as he chuckles long and deep. Tiny is a hard man to read, only allowing his tone to convey his true emotions.
“Must be the boss’ lucky day. Best get in line, Tova, Slade beat you to the punch.”
My eyes narrow. “You’d better not be fucking with me, big man.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetness. You’re one scary-arse bird, and wouldn’t put it past you to fuck me up using only your little finger,” he teases, wagging his pinky at me.
“What the fuck is with all the bird comments?”
Tiny eyes me, having no idea what I’m referring to. I’m still giving him sass when the door at his back opens, and I don’t see Slade coming out until Tiny steps aside.
The instant my eyes connect with Slade’s my heart gallops, only to stutter when he pegs me with a heated glare. My skin prickles as he strides towards me while maintaining his glower. As his arm brushes mine, he growls close to my ear, “I’ll be waiting at the bar.”
My eyes close for the briefest of moments as his scent fills my senses; leather, boot nugget and cologne that’s masking the hint of smoke. His receding footsteps are in time with my own as I stride into my brother’s office. I don’t get a word in before Tiny shuts the door and Griz speaks.
“If you’re here asking the same shit as Slade, the answer is also a fucking no.”
CHAPTER TEN
Slade
The conversation with Griz went about as well as expected; it went shit. I’m never one to bitch to our Pres about trivial bullshit, but there’s a first time for everything.
As soon as the words, “You need to find someone else to watch Tova,” pass my lips, his casual to-and-fro chair swivelling halts immediately.
“You can’t handle this job, brother?”
I clench my jaw, hating the way his question sounds—like I’m a fucking pussy. Speaking of pussy, it’s Tove’s pussy that’s the problem.
“Or you fucked her already?” he adds with a darkening scowl.
I don’t know if he’s messing with me or not, so I simply cross my arms and raise my brows at him. Yeah, he knows I haven’t—that I wouldn’t.
“So, what’s the problem, Slade?”
“What the fuck do you think?” It’s rhetorical and he knows it.
His casual swivelling resumes after he downs the rest of his whisky. “What the fuck do I think? I think that you’re as hot for her as she is for you.”
I tense and squeeze the shit out of my smoke. My voice is dead fucking steady when I retort, “The fuck is that meant to mean?”
“Come off it, Slade, she’s been wet for you since you prospected.”
“Bullshit,” I growl then shove the cancer stick between my lips and inhale hard.
“I’d stake my life on it.”
I’m blindsided. Griz has never hit me up over personal shit, so I know he’s coming at me as a brother and closest mate, not my Pres.
“If that’s what you think, why’d you send me?”
His green eyes hit mine as he leans forward and rests his meaty forearms on the desk.
“Because you’re the only motherfucker in the club that I trust to respect her. When there’s feelings involved it guarantees that you’ll protect her with your life if it came to that.”
“I’d lay down my life regardless. And while we’re talking about trust and respect, how about you explain why the fuck you didn’t tell me about all that shit in her spare room.”
He sniggers. “She made you sleep on the couch?”
“Fucken oath she did,” I grumble around my cig.
“You’re lucky. Any other brother she would have made sleep on the floor. And as for the intel room…” He shrugs. “May as well make the most of your time at Tove’s by studying that shit.”
“So that’s it then?”
“That’s it.”
I’m up and moving as soon as he grins like a smug arsehole. I’m pissed, and even more pissed when I find Tova waiting outside his office. The predator in me wants to test Griz’s assumption by pressing Tove against the wall and sliding my fingers through her pussy to see how wet she is for me. Instead, I settle for stalking towards her and barely holding it together while speaking into her ear. I don’t miss the way her breath stills or how thickly she swallows when I’m near. I stalk to the bar where I cop ribbing from my brothers about being Tova’s bitch. I couldn’t care less; I have bigger problems to figure out, like how the fuck Tova and I can reside together without crossing the huge motherfucking don’t go there line.
~*~
I’ve barely brought the beer to my lips when Tova strides from the corridor looking as pissed as I was mere minutes ago. Knowing she’s calling bullshit on this entire situation has me smirking as she approaches with fire blazing in her eyes.
“I’m off.”
I snag her by the loop of her jeans when she doesn’t stop, causing her to hop for balance then savagely slap my hand away.
“Not yet. I need your help with something first.”
She huffs and crosses her arms beneath her tits. A low whistle comes from the other end of the bar then a few sniggers. I’m aware that we’re the centre of attention, and I’m trying to figure out just how far Tova will go to prove that she’s no man’s bitch.
Knocking back my beer in one long skull, I nod a thank you to Kandi behind the bar then stand to face Tove. She’s still glaring, waiting for me to speak.
Without a word, I set my hand on her lower back and firmly guide her to the door. The fuckers behind us are laughing their arses off, thinking I’m gonna make Tova put out and knowing she ain’t gonna let it happen.
She steps from my touch the instant we get outside, then mutely follows me down the gravel driveway towards the rear of the property where accommodation units are. One of which, is mine.
“What the fuck are we doing?”
“Wait here,” I command once we reach the small deck of my unit then stride away to get Bishop’s truck.
Tova doesn’t move even when I all but back it into her a couple of minutes later. Stubborn bitch.
I wave her inside and over to my bed. She stops a couple of feet away and eyes it like she’s gonna contract leprosy if she gets too close.
“Words, Slade, I’m not a mind reader.”
I rip off the sheets and throw them in the hamper. It’s only when I’m bending and gripping the huge-arse mattress that I reply. “Movin’ in, baby, now stop gawking and help me load this onto the truck.”
“You can’t be fucking serious. Where the hell is that meant to go in my apartment?”
“It can go on the goddamn kitchen bench for all I care. I ain’t sleepin’ another night on your couch.”
Tova stands her ground and presses her hands firmly onto her slim hips, raising her chin in defiance. “No.”
The prickle of fury ignites in my gut. Neither of us are used to being told what to do by the other, and I sure as fuck don’t like it. Dropping the mattress and rounding it, I grip her by the back of the neck and bring her body flush with mine. Her hand automatically reaches for my wrist and holds tight. Heat radiates from her skin, seeping through my clothes and instantly warming my chest where her tits press.
“Yes,” I growl.
“No,” Tova breathes, focusing on my mouth.
I not so subtly press my dick into her so she knows exactly what she’s
toying with. Motherfucking pent up fire.
“Easy way or hard way, little bird.”
She swallows, undoubtedly understanding the repercussions that are sure to follow.
A ghost of a smirk crooks her lips. “As if you need to bother asking.”
“Hard way it is.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Tova
I grunt and push hard against the heavy weight. This is utter bullshit and Slade is grinning with sick pleasure because of it. Stubborn goddamn fool.
We haven’t even made it up the first flight of stairs yet and I’m ready to stab him with one of the innerspring coils of his stupendously oversized mattress.
“I hate you,” I hiss, giving another shove to get it around the corner of the first landing.
Slade chuckles then deadpans. “According to Griz, you really don’t.”
I let the mattress go and Slade scrambles to stop it falling over the banister. “What the fuck does that mean.”
“Forget it,” he snarls back, clearly raising a subject he doesn’t intend to elaborate on.
Quick as a flash, I’m all up in his grill to meet him head on. “Oh no, you don’t say shit like that then not back it up with reasoning. What did Griz say to you?”
“I ain’t talkin’, and if you don’t shut your gob, you’ll get another taste of the hard way. I won’t stop this time either.”
I glare. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Go on, Tove, try me,” Slade challenges, his eyes darkening like an approaching thunder storm.
He’s got me there and he knows it. I spin on my heel and resume my position at the downstairs end of the mattress while ranting in my head.
I thought Slade was going to kiss me senseless in his room. My body craved his touch, his taste. As soon as he pressed his erection between my legs, I knew we were dancing the fine line between loyalties and desires. As VP, Slade’s loyalty to the club, to Griz, should always take priority. To cross firmly set boundaries with someone that Griz has ordered every member to stay away from (me) was a blatant act of punishable insubordination.
Twenty minutes ago, Slade successfully turned my blood to molten lust by tightening his grip on the back of my neck and leaning in. Against my better judgement, my lips readily parted for him. ‘Just one quick taste, then I’ll stop’ I promised myself.
I gasped when he dropped to his knees before me and ran his tongue up the zipper of my jeans. It was when he smirked up at me that I knew he was fucking with me, and he got me good. Before I could slap the goofy grin off his face, his arms were around my waist and he was standing with me flipped upside down with my head between his legs.
“Fucking put me down, Slade, or I swear to God I’ll off you in your sleep.”
His chuckle turned into a growl as I struggled in his hold. My one free arm was effectively locked down, rendering me helpless and cussing the roof down as he carried me in the bathroom.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” I screamed when I saw the toilet bowl looming.
My struggle increased, throwing him off balance in the narrow space. Slade’s arms encircled my legs and my waist as he lowered my head towards the bowl.
“You’ve got precisely five seconds before your hair goes in. Seven before your head goes in, and ten before I flush this motherfucker,” he yelled over my string of expletives.
“Fuck you,” I hissed.
“Two! Three!”
“Dammit! Fine! I’ll help.”
In the next instant, I was flipped to my feet and light-headed from the quick change of angle. Slade reached for me, but you can bet your arse I slapped away his assistance.
We drew a crowd as I helped Slade heave the mattress into the bed of Bishop’s truck. Resentment burned in my veins when Bish yelled, “How the fuck did you talk her into helping your sorry arse, brother?”
“There was no talking on my behalf, mate,” he chuckled back. “She offered.”
Everyone in attendance received my middle finger as I strode back to my car and left Slade scrambling to catch up.
~*~
“Shit, this thing is heavy,” I groan, finally able to rest it against the side of the hallway while Slade digs out his key.
I reluctantly gave him one; he would have stolen it and got a copy cut anyway, so may as well have done it on my terms.
“Need some help, angel?”
My body stiffens at his voice.
“No, Vincent. Go back to watching porn.”
He stops beside me, and I’m balling my fist ready to throat punch him when a large hand clamps down on his shoulder.
Slade’s voice is dark and brimming with warning. “She means it, fuck off.”
Vincent dances on his death bed as he flicks his eyes over Slade’s body and retorts, “I wasn’t asking you.”
“Well, I’m telling you. Fuck off now unless you want to choke on your own balls when I rip them off and shove them down your throat.”
Vincent pales and steps back two paces. Dashing one last glance at me, he practically runs back to his room and throws himself inside.
I can’t help but giggle. The guy all but shat himself. The sound of my mirth draws Slade’s attention back to me and his features instantly lighten with pleasure, the jovial smile altering his tough appearance. His hair is mussed and sticking out in all directions from the effort it took to haul the mattress up the stairs, and a light sheen of sweat beads across his forehead.
My already elevated heart beat stutters in my chest and I can’t ignore how breathless he makes me when he looks at me like this. It’s intense and alluring, and I feel myself smiling back and allowing him to witness a softer side of my harsh personality.
Without a further word, we shove the mattress into my apartment, have a small yet heated argument over where it’s going, and then I’m told to keep my arse put while Slade returns Bishop’s truck.
I listen—right up until the front door clicks closed, then I’m a woman on a mission; I’ve got a night out with Frankie to get ready for.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Tova
I’m wriggling into a skin-tight black dress when I hear the unmistakable rumble of Slade’s Harley pull up out front. Sure enough, when I peer out the window, I see him swing his leg off and immediately stalk towards the building.
Simply seeing him on his Hog makes me hot for the guy. The sound of his key in the lock is heard barely a minute later, and with a final swipe of red on my lips, I saunter out on tip toes to get his reaction.
Slade doesn’t disappoint; he chokes on his tongue then runs his hand over his jaw and coughs away the rest of whatever the fuck just happened.
“Dressed up for me, little bird?” he drawls as his eyes repetitively skip over every part of my body.
“Ha!” I flick my long dark hair and quirk a brow. “As if. I’m actually on my way out. Don’t wait up.”
Slade snags my hand and gently squeezes. His voice is low yet surprisingly soft as he murmurs, “Give me twenty. I’m coming.”
I raise my chin and look him square in the eye. “You’ve got five. Time starts now.”
To ensure he doesn’t think I won’t leave without him, I grab my phone and set the countdown timer for five minutes. Slade’s still glaring at me, not having moved a muscle.
“Best get your arse moving, Slade. Time waits for no man, VP or not.”
I swear his jaw is going to break with the force of his grinding teeth. “You’d better be in this room when I get back or there’ll be hell to pay.”
“I promise nothing, you should know that by now.”
Slade points a finger as he stalks past to the bathroom. “It’s not a request.”
I grab my handbag and chuck in my credit card, phone, lipstick and handgun for good measure, then sit on the couch to slip on my stilettos—black of course. Almost my entire wardrobe is black; the only colour I wear is the ink on my body.
I hear the shower running
as I slide the first heel on, making a mental note to close the window before I head out even though Slade will no doubt reopen it to smoke. I’m sliding my foot into the second stiletto when movement at the window catches my eye.
A sparrow hops onto the sill then has a fucking panic attack when I scream. For reasons unbeknownst to me, the little fucker flies at me instead of out of the gap it just entered through. I bloody hate birds, like, H.A.T.E birds! Their unpredictability creeps me out.
Before I know it, I’m ducking for cover while squealing at the top of my lungs, wielding the second stiletto like it’s a freaking battle axe. As the sparrow makes another frenzied pass at me, I open the pantry doors and try to cram my body as far into the tiny space as possible, all while yelling at the top of my lungs for help.
Hearing the carnage over and above the shower spray, Slade sprints into the living area, sopping wet, shampoo still in his hair, suds trailing down his chest, and clutching a towel around his waist.
“What the fuck?” he yells, darting his eyes around the room to try and pinpoint the threat.
I wave the stiletto in the general direction of wherever the hell the bird is.
“Bird! Bird! Birdbirdbirdbirdbird!”
Slade halts and gawks at me with one corner of his lip raised. “Huh?”
“There’s a fucking bird inside, Slade! Get it out, now!”
His eyes widen in disbelief. “A bird?”
“Yes,” I hiss.
He snorts and smirks, temporarily forgetting that he’s standing half-showered and dripping water on my living room carpet. “Well, whatdaya know.”
“I need it gone. Now,” I exclaim and wave my heel again.
With a cuss, he starts prowling around the room looking for the little sucker. I watch him, and the more I look, the more I get drunk from the way his body moves. The muscles on his back are defined and constantly ripple under his skin as he ties the towel more securely around his hips. Fuck me, if this is the result of letting one bird in, I would let in a whole damn flock just to get this view again.