The Dirty Dozen: MC Edition

by Kay Maree

My breath becomes short from the sight, then grows shallower when the sparrow makes its re-appearance. Slade’s watching it the entire time and I’m drowning in a full-on eye smorgasbord as he prowls around the living space, waving his arms while uttering a string of curses. My racing heart doesn’t get a break after he shoos the bird outside then slams the window shut; he turns to me with a glower that makes my pulse spike further. I slip from my hiding place and inch towards him, cautious of how unpredictable he looks. His smooth chest is rising and falling and his abs contract with each of his heaving breaths. The shampoo suds and water have all but dried, leaving soapy residue over his muscular shoulders.

  “All that screaming over a fucking bird? I didn’t peg you for a girly shrieker.” Slade swipes the suds from his forehead and flicks them at me.

  I bite my tongue as he closes the space between us. Warmth radiates off his chest and onto mine. Every sense I possess is acute and honed into his movements, and the invisible pull is increasing the more we’re together. My eyes skip over his chest again on their own accord, taking in every piece of art that adorns his torso and arms. The only part I can’t see is where it disappears beneath the towel.

  “I didn’t shriek.”

  He chuckles deeply. “Yeah, Tove, you did.”

  The tension between us amplifies as we both fall silent; the only sound is our elevated breathing. My eyelids flutter when his fingertips graze ever so lightly over the curve of my hip. My body instinctively leans towards his, lured in by his nearness and a gentler side of him I was yet to know. We both know we’re playing with fire, but often the most forbidden fruit is the sweetest.

  His head drops and I wait on bated breath for his lips to land on mine. He’s so close I can feel each of his exhales breeze across my skin. My fingers itch to make contact with his exposed torso, and the moment they touch down, Slade snags my wrist away.

  “You don’t have to be tough all the time, little bird. I like seeing you with your guard down.”

  My guard snaps right back into place as my eyes cut to his. “I can look after myself,” I snap, putting two lopsided steps between us.

  Slade runs a hand through his hair then looks surprised when he finds the suds that still need to be washed out. I’m bending to slip my second stiletto on when Slade’s lower half fills my vision.

  “Tove, I don’t know what the fuck this is between us, but I know you feel it too. We gotta cut the shit and focus on the bigger picture of why I’m here. Let me finish showering then I’ll come out with you.”

  I’m spitting daggers at him when I stand. He’s just confirmed that I’m the job, nothing more. My phone alarm halts my scathing retort. I reach for it then grin at Slade with as much malice as I can conjure.

  “Oh, I’m afraid time’s up and you’re not ready. See ya round.”

  He reaches for the fabric of my dress and tugs, only to recoil when I give him a don’t fucking touch me look.

  “Wait. You can hardly count that as five minutes. I was saving your arse from the fire breathing sparrow.”

  “Deal’s a deal, and I answer to no one.”

  With that, I grab my bag then flick his towel so it drops to the floor. While he’s scrambling to cover himself, I power to the door as fast as I can in stilettos. I don’t stop to take a second look at his goods—if I did there’s no way I’d be leaving this apartment right now. It’s for the best.

  My defiant laugh combines with his curses and the sound of his footsteps rushing after me.

  I hit the staircase and don’t look back. He’ll find me if he really wants to—and I already know there’ll be hell to pay when he does.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Tova

  Frankie meets me at a different club tonight rather than our usual one. I made the change at last minute just to throw Slade off my scent. This one’s door charge is just as high, but we don’t need to pay a single dime; I’m recognisable wherever I go and that has its perks.

  As soon as Crow sees us approaching, he halts the line and lifts the VIP rope for us. I walk tall on the way past, knowing full well his eyes are roaming wherever they please.

  Frankie is a little less confident, but still she’s at my side riding the wave that we create together. When we reach the private bar at the back of the club, a tray of drinks is already waiting. They know how we roll, and in return they get the reputation they gag for; the place to be seen.

  Back here from behind the sheer curtains, the women on stage move seductively in time to the music. They’re sexy and classy, alluring to both the men and women that come here with money to burn.

  Frankie sits and tugs the hem of her short dress down an inch as I pick up two shots and hand one her way. She pauses with it midway to her lips.

  “So, tell me the dirty goss on that hot piece of Hades you’ve got at home.”

  “How do you know?” I hold her eye contact while downing my shot.

  Frankie winces through the burn of the tequila then sucks on a lemon slice before replying. “Small town, Tove. As if you even need to ask. So, why the secret?”

  Fuck, this night just took a turn for the worst. “Because, he’s an arrogant arsehole.”

  A grin breaks out of Frank’s lips and she raises a knowing brow at me. “A fucking hot arrogant arsehole.”

  We clink our second shots together. “Here’s to fucking hot arrogant arseholes!”

  ~*~

  Two hours on, I’m standing in front of Frankie, boozed to the eyeballs and melting to the music while she throws hundred-dollar bills at me. The last note falls to the ground at my feet at the precise moment a hard body slams against my back.

  A hand grips my hip hard while the other splays across my stomach, roughly pulling me against him. His low voice brims with anger that instantly ignites my desire, and the stinging bite to my earlobe further weakens my knees while causing heat to pool between my legs.

  “You’re in the shit, Sparrow.”

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Slade

  I’ve never wanted to fucking throttle a woman so much in my entire life than I did when I finally found Tova in the strip club.

  She grinds my goddamn gears with her blatant complacency. There’s shit going down and she’s digging her heels in purely to rile me up—and it’s fucking working!

  I took my time getting ready after she walked out leaving me arse-buck-naked in the living room. There was no point in rushing out to chase her down. If she wanted to disappear, she would. And it came as no surprise when she did exactly that.

  It took me two fucking hours of bar hopping to track her down—I should have checked the strip clubs first. When I find her out back in one of the semi-private rooms, dancing like a wet dream in that skimpy black dress, my dick is ready to break all the rules right then and there. Tova’s body has always been seductive, and with her moving in all the right ways, I’m a brother on the edge of throwing loyalties out the window.

  Her friend is rolling drunk as she flicks bank note after bank note at Tove where she provides first-class bonus entertainment for the patrons. The friend’s eyes flick to me as I stalk towards them, then she does a double take before her mouth falls open. Tova doesn’t seem to notice blondie’s reaction so I’m assuming she’s either off her face or has her eyes closed.

  My tongue runs along my lower lip at the sight of her arse swaying. The bastard in me is rising and, club princess or not, Tova Costello is gonna be taught a lesson about fucking with me. I’m not VP for no reason. I’m ruthless when needed. I will reign down motherfucking hell on any bastard who crosses me, and I sure as fuck don’t take Tova’s safety as a joke like she seems to think it is. Give me dishing out a beat down any day over this bullshit.

  When I reach Tova, I pin her against my chest and bite her earlobe hard enough for her nails to dig into my forearm.

  “You’re in the shit, Sparrow.”

  “Oh fuck, I think I just came a little,” Tova hisses to he
r friend.

  The blonde pixie gasps then dissolves into a fit of giggles.

  “Trust me, little bird, when I give an orgasm, there’s not a fucking doubt in your mind that you’ve just come like a fucking freight train.”

  She reaches up and runs her hand through my hair, tugging roughly and grinding against my crotch, and it’s testing the upper limits of my tolerance.

  “Fuck yes,” Tova breathes.

  “You’re playing with fire, Tova,” I warn.

  “Good thing I like getting hot.”

  I hear blondie snort while I manhandle Tova around to face me. “You’re coming home, but your arse isn’t touching the seat of my Hog until I know you aren’t gonna fall off the back.”

  Her eyes harden as she lifts her chin. “And why should I come home with you?”

  “It’s not an option,” I growl with my attention glued to her pouted lips. I’m already palming my phone and calling blondie a cab.

  “You can’t make me,” Tova sasses and pulls away to cross her arms under her tits.

  I stare at her for a beat while I wait for the call to connect. “I’ll cuff you to the bed if I have to.”

  Rebelliousness flashes through her green eyes as she glares back in a challenge I won’t back down from.

  “Bullshit,” she smirks.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Tova

  I’m splayed on my back, unable to move, and my spine is killing me from lying in the same position for what feels like hours. There’s a soft clink when I try to move my arm.

  What the?

  I jiggle my arms, and then legs, rapidly realising that I’m fucking cuffed to the bed. I lift my head and squint at my surrounds. Seeing the familiarity of my room triggers memories from last night and I look down the length of my body.

  I’m most definitely cuffed to my bed by both wrists and ankles, and am most definitely not wearing what I wore out last night. Instead, I’m clothed in one of Slade’s t-shirts that smells borderline erotic, and I’ve got underwear on now that’s all up my arse. However, the stilettos are still strapped to my feet.

  “Slade! Arse in here, now!”

  I swear I’m about to lose my shit when I hear his chuckle before he appears.

  “Mornin’, Tova,” he says dryly as he enters the room, pulling on his cut. A stubbed-out ciggy dangles from his smirking lips.

  “Uncuff me. Now.”

  He raises a brow from the end of the bed where he stands directly between my open legs. “And let all your begging last night go to waste? Not a chance.”

  “The fuck I begged. Who undressed me?”

  “That would be me. You were willing,” he adds when I struggle against the restraints. “I’m experienced with takin’ clothes off, however, gettin’ them back on is another fucking story and one I don’t care to repeat.”

  He’s in pissed-off stance now with his forearms looking lickable when he crosses them over his chest.

  “You gonna stay put today?”

  My silence is enough of an answer for him.

  “Griz has called church, and since you’re not gonna give me your word, you have two options. One,” he flicks out a finger, “is to stay exactly as you are now until I get back. Or two,” he adds a second, “come with me to the clubhouse.”

  I crane my neck to look at him. “You wouldn’t dare leave me cuffed all day.”

  “Try me, baby. We both know I follow through with threats.”

  Slade’s right; twice I’ve found that out, and I don’t intend to make it a third. Despite how much it irritates the shit out of me, I admire that part of him. His word is final, and heaven forbid if he’s crossed. I know he’s been lenient on my behaviour purely because of who I am. Any other member would have a broken nose by now.

  I study him closely while weighing my options. With his colours proudly on show and the take no bullshit scowl on his face, he looks every part of a VP that one could imagine. His light-brown hair is perfectly mussed and there’s a hint of ink showing at the base of his neck. He hasn’t bothered shaving today and the light stubble adds to his imposing presence.

  Slade raises a brow, growing impatient. “Well?”

  “Uncuff me. I’m coming.”

  “Good decision, little bird.”

  He pulls out a set of keys and tosses them up and down, taking his sweet fucking time to unchain me. I hold back the sigh of relief when my ankles are released, and as he works on my wrists, I get his attention.

  “Slade?”

  He stills and moves nothing but his gaze my way.

  “Stop calling me little bird.”

  A snigger vibrates within his chest and there’s an antagonistic glint in his grey eyes. “Never. Now get up. You’ve got five minutes exactly before we leave.”

  “You wouldn’t,” I hiss, bounding from the bed.

  He pulls out his phone. “Fucking try me, little bird.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Slade

  Tova should count herself lucky that I chuck a pair of jeans at her when she emerges from the bathroom. She’s still wearing those fuck-me heels from last night and it’s making my goddamn balls ache. The legs she possesses are incredible. I saw it all last night, every inch of her skin, ink and all, and I was hard as rock because of it. She doesn’t know that I slept on the floor in her room, worried for the first time that she might vomit in her sleep and choke. It was as I listened to her soft snores that I cursed myself for being so damn pussy-whipped.

  Flicking me off as she sits on the bed to remove the heels, Tova then lies on her back and shimmies her jeans on. They’re a second skin, enabling every curve and muscle she has from the waist down to be defined.

  I grunt and subtly adjust myself. Tova doesn’t miss the action; her smirk tells me she noticed. She’s reaching for the hem of my t-shirt when I halt her.

  “Leave that.” My voice is purposely low and full of possession.

  If she didn’t like it, it would have been the first item of clothing she removed. Tova knows what her wearing my clothes implies, as do I. I’m essentially staking my claim, issuing a warning to others that Tova is now off-limits. Her next actions will determine whether or not she’s receptive to my proposition. If she’s not, I’ll back off; there’s no fucking point claiming a woman who doesn’t want to be with me.

  Tova grinds my gears and always will, yet now that we’re joined at the fucking hip, we’re both aware of something more between us. For me, this isn’t just about the chase any more, nor is it about the job or how far I can push her.

  She’s only got the one chance to accept what I’m offering, and this is it. She’ll always have my protection regardless of the choice she makes—that goes without saying—but if she doesn’t want me, then I need to cut my fucking losses and be more forceful with Griz. Either way, there’s going to be a showdown between him and I.

  I see the thought process play out behind Tova’s eyes; she’s under no illusions of how pivotal her response is.

  In slow motion while maintaining my eye contact, she tightens her grip on the hem of my shirt and slowly pulls it up. With every new inch of her toned stomach that becomes exposed, the further my heart drops. I didn’t fucking realise before now how much Tova being mine meant to me, and I bite my tongue through my anger as the delusion becomes clear.

  I’m at the point of storming from the room to avoid the moment my pride takes the final blow. My arms tighten across my chest in an extreme effort to stop me reaching out to halt her, and I purse my lips to stop a protest escaping; Slade begs for no woman, end of.

  There’s a hint of breast now showing, and that’s when I tear my eyes away. I’d seen her naked last night, and fuck me it took every ounce of willpower to not fuck her hard like she demanded. Any other pussy and I would have. But not her. Not Tova. Turns out I respect her too fucking much.

  I nod once at the ground in understanding, and fucked if I didn’t admit to being dis
appointed. The decision has been made, so I turn.

  “Slade.”

  My name whispering from Tova’s lips halts me to the spot. I know I shouldn’t, but I glance over my shoulder. She stands, still clutching my shirt like she’s about to rip it off. I don’t move as she walks closer, stopping just out of arm's reach. Now that she’s barefoot again, she’s the perfect height to tuck under my chin. Her emerald eyes search mine like she doesn’t know what to do.

  “Is this what you want?” she breathes.

  I face her head on and throw my arms wide. “You’re a smart woman, Tova, work that one out for yourself.”

  “I don’t know you.” I tense at her words. “Not the real you, the person you are on the inside,” she says.

  “The inside is ugly, baby. That’s not for the world to see.”

  She fists the front of my cut in her free hand and knocks my chest lightly. “I don’t want to see what everyone else can, I want to see the parts that are only meant for me.”

  As the word ‘me’ passes her lips, her fingers release my shirt she wears and it unravels to cover her stomach again.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Slade

  Did I kiss her like I wanted? Nope. Did I fuck her like she expected? Nope again.

  That was her punishment for the little mindfuck of a game she just played. I nod in understanding, not letting on how pumped I was right now.

  Despite me staking my claim over her, Tova isn’t a possession; she’s the kind of woman that won’t tolerate being locked down and told what to do—hell, the last week has been evidence enough of that. And as much as it fucks me off, I wouldn’t have it any other way. There’s gotta be sparks and heat or it ain’t worth my time.

  The timer goes off, reminding me that I need to get my arse to church. I throw Tove’s leather jacket at her then stalk from the room, my mind already back on club business.

  I can hear her pulling on her boots, then she grabs her helmet and clomps after me as I head for the door. Feisty or not, she knows the drill; when Griz calls church, everyone had better get their arses there as soon as possible.