Jigsaw (Hell's Handlers MC Book 3)

by Lilly Atlas

  Bringing herself back into the moment, Izzy hopped off the treadmill and headed straight for a matted area. Sitting with her legs outstretched, she bent forward and wrapped her hands around the soles of her feet. Damn, that felt amazing. She’d give Jig a few minutes to deal with whatever poison was invading his mind then go over and see if she could coax another one of those almost-smiles out of him.

  Just as she was about to move into another stretch, Zach barreled out of his office, cell pressed to his ear. “Motherfucker!” he shouted. “Tell me exactly what the fuck happened.”

  He quieted for about fifteen seconds, then picked up a spray bottle and hurled it across the room. When it crashed against the wall mirror, the top flew off, exploding cleaning solution all over the mirror. Thankfully, the glass didn’t crack.

  “Why the fuck are you the one calling me and not Toni? She okay? Yeah, thanks.” Zach paced back and forth.

  Izzy rose and glanced at Jig then Screw. Both men had abandoned what they were doing the second they heard the distress in Zach’s voice. They crowded around their brother, waiting for news.

  “Hey, baby,” Zach said, rubbing at his bowed forehead. Whoever’d been on the phone must have passed it off to Toni.

  Izzy’s gut twisted. She hadn’t known the other woman long, but the thought of something happening to her was sickening. She was already too attached to this group.

  “You okay?” Zach asked into the phone, his voice taking on a softer quality she’d only ever heard him use with Toni. “No, babe, don’t worry about the diner. The guys will have it fixed up in no time. I want to know if you are okay. Any motherfuckers lay a hand on you?”

  Izzy took a few steps closer but remained out of their personal space. Head still bent forward, Zach massaged the back of his neck. “All right, baby, I’ll be there in ten minutes. Some of the other guys might start showing up before me. Don’t leave LJ’s sight. You hear me?” Then he turned and took two steps away from his brothers and lowered his volume. “Fuckin’ scared me, baby. Yeah, okay. Love you too, Toni.”

  He ended the call and turned back to his brothers. Before he spoke, his gaze flicked to Izzy. “I can go,” she said, motioning her thumb toward the exit. She probably should have left already, but curiosity and worry for her friend had gotten the best of her.

  “No, it’s fine. Stick around.” Zach sighed, though it was more of a half growl, half hiss. “Diner was vandalized. Toni swung by to grab something she’d forgotten. Entire front of the place is covered in red spray paint. Says shit like “biker whore” and some threats against her. Godfuckingdamnit.” Zach violently kicked a weight bench, upending the thing with a tremendous clatter.

  Izzy jumped but remained quiet. His brothers would take care of him. For now, it seemed he needed to rant and get it out.

  “She coulda shown up while they were there. You have any idea what would have happened if these assholes walked in on Toni alone in the diner?” He stalked over to the mirror and rested his palms against it, staring at his own murderous expression.

  Jig froze, and Izzy held her breath. For a second, you could have heard a pin drop, and she sent a quick prayer out into the universe, hoping Jig would keep his cool. Zach and Toni were in love in a way Izzy had never experienced, but Jig had. Zach’s fear for his woman had to be resonating with Jig in a soul-crushing way. She wished there was something she could offer besides moral support. Something bigger. Something that would actually help distract Jig from his memories and ease the worry for his brother.

  “Shit. Fuck.” Zach ran a hand down his face. “I’m sorry, brother,” he said to Jig. “That was a dick thing to say.”

  “Ain’t a thing,” Jig replied, but the words sounded forced, as though someone had to reach down and drag them out from inside him.

  “I gotta get to her.”

  “Right behind you, brother,” Screw said as he dashed into the locker room. He returned less than five seconds later, cut on and ready to roll.

  “Shit,” Zach said, running a hand down his face. “I have to close the place up. And I made a fucking mess.”

  Jig jogged into Zach’s office, emerging with Zach’s cut. “Forget that, Z. Iz and I got it. Just get to Toni.” With one hand, he tossed the cut to Zach.

  “You sure?” Zach asked as he snagged the cut out of the air and shrugged into it.

  “Yes, totally sure,” Izzy piped in. “Go be with Toni.”

  “Thanks, brother,” Zach said, holding a hand out to Jig who ignored it and pulled him into a man-hug. “Want these fuckers’ blood, Jig.”

  “I hear ya,” Jig said.

  “It’s gonna end in war. You know that, right?”

  With a nod, Jig shoved Zach toward the door. “Go to your woman. We’ll figure it out.”

  As he passed her, Zach dropped a kiss on Izzy’s cheek. “You’re the best, Iz.” Then he whispered, “This’ll fuck his head up. Take care of my boy tonight.”

  The request went beyond simple friendship. It brought her into the family and firmed her connection to the club. Despite knowing she was setting herself up for disaster, there was only one answer in her head. She nodded. “I’ll check in on Toni tomorrow.”

  Without even an ounce of hesitation, no thought necessary, Zach’s brothers did what needed to be done. Rushed right to his side with unconditional support and love. It was a novel thing for Izzy to witness, and something she didn’t trust. But it wasn’t the first time she’d seen it. They’d done the same when she was injured. That kind of support scared the shit out of her because it was the kind people came to rely on. The kind that drew a person in. And the kind that would leave a person shattered and broken once it disappeared.

  Once Zach and Screw were gone, the gym fell into an uncomfortable silence. Jig’s expression had hardened and an iciness reflected in his eyes. Posture stiff, he stood staring off into space, probably lost in the horrors of the past. Did he want her ass gone so he could deal with his shit on his own? Probably. But if he was anything like her, and she was starting to think he was, at least in this regard, he needed something else to release the pressure. And the one thing that opened the valve for her was fighting. Learning to read his moods and expressions was frightening on an emotional level, but valuable if she was going to help him.

  “Come on,” she said, grabbing him by the sleeve as she headed for the boxing ring in the far corner of the gym.

  “What the fuck? What are you doing Izzy?” Jig resisted, but she tugged harder, and he relented. When they reached the ring, she climbed in and motioned for him to follow.

  “This isn’t the time for this, Izzy. We gotta clean and shut the place down for Zach.”

  Planting her hands on her hips, she gave him her best don’t-fuck-with-me look. “Get your ass in the ring, Jigsaw. You need to work this shit out of your head so you can be there for your brothers.” Witnessing how they supported each other, she had a feeling that would get to him.

  Sure enough…

  He bent his head side to side, cracking his neck. “Fuck it,” he muttered and climbed into the ring. “What exactly are we doing here?”

  Izzy shot him a grin and bounced on the balls of her feet. “Let’s see if you can take me on. For real. No boxing, just grappling.” It was stupid. He had six inches and sixty pounds of muscle on her, but she wanted, no needed, to go all out.

  His hands landed on his hips, and he gave her a glare that would make a lesser woman run screaming. By now, he should know it took a fuckuva lot more than a little eye-murder to scare her.

  Biting her lip to hide the evil grin, she charged. Jig was taken completely off guard, probably the only reason she’d been able to take him to the ground so effortlessly. They hit the mat with a thud, and she moved fast, straddling his waist and pinning his arms above his head.

  With a raised eyebrow, she laughed. “That was pretty damn easy, Jig. Maybe you need to think about upping your training.”

  She almost fell off him when he burst out laughing.
It was the biggest, most unfiltered response she’d seen from the man yet, and it transformed him from a brooding, sexy, biker to a playful, still-sexy, potential lover.

  “You fucking cheat,” he said, still chuckling.

  “Not hardly. I warned you what was about to happen.”

  “All right,” he said. “Have it your way.” Then, with a lightning-fast move, he bucked his hips and sent her flying to her back, reversing their positions.

  “All right,” Jig said. He was on his knees, hands laced behind his head. “You win. I need this.”

  “Well, we haven’t known each other that long, so I guess I can’t expect you to realize I’m always right just yet. It’ll come with time.”

  He rolled his eyes and placed his hands on her knees. “You’re such a smartass.”

  “My special gift to humanity.” Izzy snorted out a laugh and kicked into gear. They grappled for about ten minutes, going at it hard and reversing positions again and again until they were both panting and exhausted. Neither was fully trying to get the other to submit, but that didn’t mean they held back.

  Astride him in the upper-hand position once again, Izzy glanced down at Jig. “Ready to give up?” she asked.

  “Never.”

  Izzy froze to a statue above him as the rumble of his laughter vibrated through her pussy which was intimately pressed against his abdomen. Arousal hit her, hard and fast, drenching her panties and stealing her focus.

  Jig bucked his hips, sending her careening forward. On autopilot, her hands splayed on his chest, an action that had happened at least three times since they started grappling. But this time, she wasn’t focused on wrestling him, but absorbed the sensation of his hard pecs beneath her fingertips. Those fingertips flexed of their own accord, probing the hard muscles and sending a delicious thrill of need through her.

  Jig took advantage of her distracted state and flipped her once again until she landed flat on her back with him between her legs, which were wrapped around his hips, ankles locked across his lower spine. The weight of him pressed into her sensitized sex ripped a low groan from her.

  “Shit, did I hurt you?” Almost as if he wasn’t aware of his actions, Jig slid his hands over her skin-tight leggings and up her inner thighs. Halfway between her knees and her pussy, he froze, his large hands gripping her legs tight.

  Her body reacted, letting both of them know how much she wanted those hands to continue their journey. Her nipples tightened until she could feel both of them beneath her sports bra, and the need to touch them became almost unbearable.

  He got with the program then, eyes zeroing in on the twin points popping out on her chest. Against her ass, the hard ridge of his growing erection nudged her. More wetness flooded her pussy at the feel of his desire, and Jig’s nostril’s flared. Fuck, could he smell her arousal?

  The thought was damn hot.

  Immobilized in time, they locked gazes and panted as the brewing storm between them grew to hurricane strength.

  Without a word, Jig skimmed his hands forward until his thumbs met at the apex of her thighs. He swiped one, then the other, over her mound and her hips jerked as a lightning bolt of sensation shot through her core.

  He met her gaze, and she nodded. “I want you, Jig,” she said.

  He brushed her again and shook his head, withdrawing his hands. “Not tonight, Izzy. I’m no good tonight. My head’s too fucked. No way I could be anything close to gentle.”

  With a huffed laugh, Izzy propped herself on her elbows. “Jig, anything about me give you the impression that I’m down with gentle?”

  That earned her a ghost of a smile. “Not what I mean. I’m angry. Fucking pissed. About the diner, about our enemies, about…other things. Can’t promise I can control myself.”

  Little did he know those words only fanned her flames. Her pussy wept for him, and if he kept talking, she just might beg him to fuck her. It’d be easy to flip him in his distracted state, and part of her was tempted to do it. Just a quick twist of her hips and a squeeze of her thighs and he’d be under her. At her mercy. Once he felt the heat of her damp pussy grinding on his dick, he’d never refuse her. Then she could fuck him. Her usual style. Submission wasn’t her thing.

  But he needed this, and he’d been there for her when she needed help, so she’d give him what she sensed he needed and let him have control. She stayed where she was, determined to get him to let loose of that control. They’d both benefit from it in the most pleasurable of ways.

  “I’m game for a little rage-fucking, Jig. Trust me, I can handle you. Whatever you want to dish out.” She’d never spoken words like this to a man she wanted sex from, and a small niggle of unease teased the base of her brain. Not having control was a dangerous position to be in. Someone could slip past the defenses she’d set up if she let them control her.

  That wouldn’t happen tonight, though. Jig wanted no part of emotion, connection, or a relationship. She didn’t have to worry that he’d want a date or romance. He’d want to fuck, train, and hang at the occasional party. So she could hand him this very unprecedented gift and let him have the reigns.

  “Iz—”

  “Shut up, Jig.” She laughed at the surprised look on his face. Okay, maybe she’d hold onto one of those reigns. With a little wiggle, she shimmied her tank top over her head, then grasped the band of her sports bra and gave it the same treatment. Both landed in a pile over her head.

  Jig sucked in a breath, his pupils widened, and his cock pressed into the V of her thighs.

  Hello, fly, welcome to my web.

  While he gawked, she started at her stomach and ran her hands up over her ribs. Finally, she settled them on her tits.

  Jig’s chest rose and fell, and his hands returned to her thighs, squeezing hard. With a grin she hoped was as sexy as it felt, she pinched her nipples and arched her back, letting a moan out.

  “Christ, Iz, you are the sexiest fucking thing.”

  She winked as she played with her nipples. Each tug and pinch sent shocks straight to her clit. “I hear I’m not your usual type with my dark hair, height, and run-a-way mouth. Your cock seems to like what I’ve got to offer, though.”

  His eyes narrowed. Was she crazy for baiting an already pissed-off man? One who had warned her it’d be hard and rough if he gave it to her?

  Yeah, crazy, but oh-so good.

  “Come on, Jig,” she said. “Do your worst.” She moaned again and rubbed her heated pussy against his hard-as-stone cock.

  He sprung to his feet and rushed to Zach’s office. Izzy’s heart sank. She’d pushed too far. Just as she was about to reach for her shirt, he reappeared, foil packet in hand.

  He stalked over and stood between her spread legs, looming over her. And the look on his face.

  Holy shit. The animal had been let loose.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  JIG STARED DOWN at the sensual, willing woman spread out on the mat waiting for him to take her. She still toyed with her nipples, and the attention was working because she writhed against the mat.

  As she pleasured herself and stared at him, he toed off his shoes, stripped out of his shirt, then lost his shorts and boxer briefs in one quick yank. Izzy’s eyes widened, and her hands fell from her plump tits.

  “Jesus, Jig, that’s some heavy artillery you’re packing there.” Pushing up onto her elbows, she licked her lips, and he groaned. With a firm touch, he wrapped a hand around his shaft and stroked, giving a twist over the tip.

  She cocked her head. “You gonna share or am I just here for a show?”

  “Oh, I’m gonna give it to you. When I’m ready.” When a drop of precum beaded at the tip, he swiped it away with his thumb.

  “Looks like you’re ready to me.” Izzy’s voice had lowered to a rasping, almost whisper that had his cock leaking even more. She wanted this. Maybe as much as he did.

  “Lie back down.”

  She did.

  “Bend your knees. Spread further.”

  She
did.

  “Hands over your head.”

  That one had her hesitating, but to his surprise, she did it. He kept waiting for her to tell him to fuck off and start barking orders of her own, but it seemed like she was playing this his way. She was right about two things. She was not his typical lay. And if anyone could take what he had to dish out, he had a feeling it was her.

  Never had he hurt a woman, but he rage-fucked, to steal her phrase. It was the truth. Rough, raw, intense, punishing. And most women, at least the delicate little flowers he fucked, couldn’t handle him and never came back for more. He heard the gossip, how all his brothers assumed he was punishing his dead wife for leaving him. And maybe there was some truth to that, but it also ensured they’d never want more from him. No hearts, flowers, or I love yous.

  Nothing but down and dirty fucking.

  Kneeling between Izzy’s legs, he shoved her knees wider to accommodate his bulk. Then he planted his hands next to her head and hovered inches above her face. “Give me that smart mouth that likes to bust my balls so much.”

  She flaunted a sassy grin and tilted her chin up. Bracing on one hand, he grabbed her jaw with the other. Just before his mouth descended, he saw a quick flash of uncertainty in her eyes, and he fucking loved it. Call him sick, but it’s exactly what he wanted from her. He wanted to take everything she had to give and, even more, wanted her to give it willingly despite her unease. He wanted to conquer her. To get this strong as hell woman to submit to his every desire.

  His mouth crushed hers. No soft lead-in, but a hard, bruising clash of lips that claimed her. She gave as good as she got, eating at his mouth and making his cock leak even more. God damn, even when he had her at his mercy, she had control over him. She was just that sexy.

  Her tongue explored his mouth with bold, confident strokes, and he swore he could feel each one swiping over his dick. In the very near future, he had to get that tongue on him. It was bound to shoot his head straight off his body. He captured her lower lip between his teeth and tugged, loving the gasp that escaped her.