by Lilly Atlas
“Mind your own fucking business. Let’s move.” Hook wanted the other man back in the garage bay before Marcie appeared. If Jester witnessed her slink from the restroom, the shit he’d give Hook would be fierce and endless.
“You put your panties on backward in there or something? Give me a minute, I need to look up a fax number.” His size fourteen feet tromped to the now-vacant reception desk.
Shit. As Jester moved behind the wooden desk to the computer, Hook’s mind raced to come up with a fast way to get him out of there. Unfortunately, Marcie chose that moment to emerge from the hallway, stopping short when she noticed the two men lingering around the reception desk.
“Oh, um…I—” she stammered, gaze darting in every direction but at Hook.
He watched, amused as her gaze landed on Jester and those gorgeous green eyes widened in shock. Jester tended to have that effect on initial impression. A hulk of a man, he was nearly six and a half feet tall, with an overabundance of muscles. Hook was one of the few people who knew Jester was an avid weight lifter. For some reason, the man was shy about that piece of information. His left arm had a sleeve of tattoos, and he’d recently started on the right. Typically, he wore his long dark hair tied back at the nape of his neck.
The bodybuilder physique combined with the extreme height and yards of ink made for one intimidating picture. His constant joking and sarcasm always surprised people, both of which were how his name came about.
If Marcie’s reaction to Jester was predictable, his reaction to her was cliché. She was undeniably a knockout and Jester loved women, particularly gorgeous ones. He pushed back the rolling office chair that groaned under his substantial weight and smiled a toothy grin full of mirth. “Ohh, now I get it.” He jumped up and made his way toward Marcie.
“Jester.” Hook’s voice held a note of warning.
“Hello, beautiful. You must be the Marcie this one hasn’t shut up about since last night,” Jester said, motioning a thumb in Hook’s direction.
A delightful shade of pink rose from her neck to her cheeks. “Oh, um, well yes, I’m Marcie.” As she spoke, her eyes darted toward the exit. There was a good chance she’d disappear if he blinked too long.
The shit-eating grin returned to Jester’s face and he slid his thumbs through the belt loops on his pants, rocking back on his heels. “Sooo, Hook’s zipper get stuck?”
Marcie gasped and sputtered. “I-I’m sorry, what?”
“That’s why you were in the bathroom, right? I assume he was taking a leak and must have gotten his zipper stuck, so he called for help. You happened to be walking by and came to his rescue. What other explanation could there be?”
Hook couldn’t keep the growl of frustration inside. On a normal day, he tried not to let Jester’s ribbing get under his skin, but he’d be taking his brother out back for an ass beating if he kept flustering her, Jester’s size be damned. But, as usual with Jester’s teasing nature, he charmed a chuckle out of Marcie.
“Actually, no. Somehow, he locked himself in the stall and needed someone to help him climb out.”
Jester threw back his head and laughed, a booming sound that had Marcie’s eyes widening once again. “Not bad, girlie. And might I add, you are every bit as gorgeous as Hook told me you were.”
The grin that had graced Hook’s face at Marcie’s wit faded with Jester’s comment. Teasing was bad enough. No way he’d tolerate full frontal flirting. “Okay, asshole, don’t you have some shit to do?” Hook served as manager for the garage and was in charge of all the men during working hours.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m getting there, boss. FYI the part we need for your boyfriend’s Audi won’t get here until tomorrow.” He stressed the word boyfriend and glanced toward Marcie. “Looks like you’re stuck in Crystal Rock for one more night.”
Hook couldn’t discern whether Marcie was horrified or elated by that news. Her gaze darted between them as though searching for something to say when Jester jumped to her rescue. “I think Tanner called you guys a cab and his buddy is here with some food. Said you were pretty hungry.”
Marcie’s eyes lit up at the mention of breakfast. “Yes! I’m famished, thank you…”
“Jester, darlin’.” He held out a massive mitt and engulfed Marcie’s smaller hand. He brought it up toward his mouth for a polite kiss.
It was quite obvious Jester was trying to get under his skin, trying to get him to show his cards and act like a possessive ape. He didn’t give a shit that he was playing right into his brother’s hand. “When you’re done drooling over our client, get your ass back to work.”
Jester just laughed and shot Marcie a wink as he exited through the door leading directly into the garage.
“Come on, babe, let’s get you outside before someone puts an APB out on you.” Hook moved toward the door and pulled it toward him, allowing Marcie to precede him through the exit. Four sets of male eyes trained on them when they strolled through the parking lot. Striker was in the lot talking with an unimpressed looking Tanner and his two buddies who seemed mildly embarrassed by Tanner’s moody attitude. One of the men tossed a foil wrapped breakfast sandwich to Marcie and she unwrapped it and dug right in with a moan of pleasure.
The small sound had Hook rising to half-mast once again. The idea of her driving out of town caused an uncomfortable ache on the left side of his chest. He needed an excuse to see her again. Hell, maybe he’d just show up at her motel room and demand she go out with him. Her impending departure loomed ahead like a ticking time bomb. Who was he kidding? One date wouldn’t be nearly enough. Now that she was back in his life, he wanted time with her. Wanted to see what could develop between them. Wanted to spend days on end in bed with her.
Striker slung an arm around her shoulders and drew her to his side. Tanner tensed and his nostrils flared like a pissed off bull. “Hey, Marce, I was planning to go to Hook’s this evening to grill some steaks. You should join us since you’re stuck here another night. It will give us more time to catch up.”
God, sometimes he really loved Striker.
Marcie’s face lit with pleasure at the suggestion. “Oh, I would love to.” The light in her eyes dimmed a fraction. “Do you guys care if I abandon you?”
Tanner let out a snort and rolled his eyes, but one of his buddies shook his head. “Nah, we can entertain ourselves. Have fun catching up with your friends.” The guy cast a sideways look at Tanner as though uncertain of his friend’s response, but Tanner managed to control himself beyond a ticking jaw and narrowed glare.
“Let me give you my address. Take your phone out, Marce.” The nickname slipped out, but he couldn’t deny how much he enjoyed Tanner’s clenched teeth when he heard it. When she had the phone in her hands, he rattled off where he lived.
“Great.” Marcie’s smile returned, and she keyed the address in her phone. “Umm, Hook? Can you cook?” She asked, eyes sparkling.
“Excuse me,” he scoffed.
Striker shook his head and mouthed, “No fucking way.”
“Baby, I can grill one hell of a steak and that’s all you need to worry about.” He enjoyed the pretty pink blush that flushed her face.
Tanner, as usual, looked like he’d sucked a lemon, but Hook didn’t give a flying fuck what the other man thought. Hadn’t Marcie said she ended it with him? Guess the guy wasn’t too happy about her decision. Not that Hook could blame him. She was a prize and he sure as hell wouldn’t give her up without a fight.
“Ok then. I’ll bring something sweet for desert.” Marcie winked, unseen by Tanner as she’d turned away from him.
Her flirty comment wasn’t lost on Tanner, though, and his face twisted into even more of a grimace.
Hook had a fleeting moment of worry for Marcie who would be spending the rest of the afternoon with the pissed off man, but surely Tanner wouldn’t be stupid enough to pull something when Hook and Striker would be seeing her soon.
Striker had presented him with the perfect opportunity to have some alone time with Marcie. Now
he just had to use the gift wisely. He was on it like grease on an engine.
Chapter Seven
At six forty-five, Marcie stood outside her motel room in the sweltering evening heat waiting for the cab to arrive, a bakery box tucked under one arm. She hadn’t spoken to Tanner since the taxi dropped them off at the motel hours earlier and he’d stormed off. Hook had the presence of mind to ask if she needed anything from the car before she left the garage, which prompted her to remember her suitcase in the trunk. She’d wheeled the bag straight to the front office of the motel. Thankfully, they had a few vacancies and she was able to procure a room of her own. The unintended expense would suck, but she also looked into purchasing a last-minute plane ticket. No way was she spending the next few days trapped in a car with Tanner.
Spending time with Hook and Striker this evening would be great; even better if some of that time ended up as Hook-only time. All afternoon, she’d replayed the stolen moments in the bathroom with him until she was so turned on she’d had no choice but to do something about it. She’d lain on the cheap motel linens and fingered herself until she came, hard, Hook’s name flying from her mouth. Unfortunately, instead of being sated, all she could think about was how much better it would feel if it were Hook’s fingers inside her, or his tongue, or his cock.
Jesus, she needed to get her libido under control. Technically, she was now single, but she wasn’t the type to hop from one bed to another. Although, Hook might be a temptation far too delicious to resist.
While she was still waiting on her cab, Tanner stumbled around the side of the building, with the bleary-eyed look of someone who’d had one—or six—too many drinks. Well, shit. This was not going to be good.
He seemed to be staggering his way straight toward her, so she steeled herself for an unpleasant encounter. The taxi would arrive any second. At least that gave her a quick out.
“Hey, hon,” he greeted her as he sidled up to her. Bending down, Tanner landed an open-mouth kiss on her shoulder.
“What the hell? Get off me.” She gently pushed him off and took three sizable steps back.
“I missed you all afternoon,” he said as he moved closer. “I thought maybe you’d like it if I came with you to your friend’s house.”
She shook her head. Just how many personalities did the man have? “No, Tanner. I wouldn’t like that. You crossed way over the line this morning into abusive. And I told you we were finished. You need to go sleep it off in your room for a few hours.”
He advanced on her until he was close enough she could count the bloodshot lines in his eyes.
“Come on, honey, don’t be like that.” An arm snaked around her and he nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck. His other hand slid up her stomach and cupped a breast.
Every cell in her body stiffened. She was about two seconds away from grabbing his balls and twisting with all her might. “Tanner, if you ever want the option of having children, you’ll get your fucking hands off me, right now. I told you this morning we were finished, and I meant it.”
“Don’t think I can’t see what you’re doing.” Tanner snarled and plastered himself against her. “You want to end this so you can fuck those dirty bikers.”
Well, he was partially right. She sure as hell wanted Hook, but that fact had nothing to do with the end of their disastrous relationship.
She tried to nudge him back, but his hold was surprisingly strong. “No, Tanner, I don’t want it to end. I ended it already. This morning. There isn’t anything left to end. Now back the hell off. I have no idea what you think you’re going to accomplish here. There is no way you’re coming with me. I don’t want you there, and Striker and Hook will not tolerate your presence.” As the words left her mouth, a huge sense of peace and relief wrapped around her like a soft blanket.
Dammit. There she went, throwing their names around like they were her personal bodyguards. Using them to solve problems she needed to handle on her own. And there was the problem with spending any time with Hook. It was just far too easy to forget the importance of independence. Against all her self-reliant instincts, the idea of Striker and Hook waiting for her, supporting her, provided a sense of calm that was immediate and strong.
It lasted all of about twenty seconds.
With a too-firm stroke, Tanner slid his hand up her back and fisted it in her hair. He gripped the short strands tight and twisted his wrist until the taut wrench brought tears to her eyes. Marcie’s heart leaped to her throat and the bakery box dropped to the ground. She might be independent, but she had zero skills as far as self-defense. A mistake. She’d be enrolling in a class the second she returned home.
“Tanner, please,” she said, fear ratcheting up her anxiety with each passing second. She was completely immobile. Any movement only increased the pain of his grip on her hair. She felt the pop as strands were uprooted from her scalp.
“There’s something you need to understand, bitch,” he whispered against her ear. “This is over when I say it’s over. You think I’m going to walk away so you can go fuck one of those grease monkeys from the garage?” He snorted. “Think again, honey. Here’s what’s gonna happen.”
His hot breath reeked of stale liquor and Marcie breathed through her mouth to avoid the nauseating stench.
The rumble of a vehicle rolling into the lot diverted Tanner’s attention and he loosened his hold on her hair. Marcie rammed her elbow into his stomach. Thankfully, the impulsive move had him grunting and he released her.
She drew her phone from her rear pocket and held it out as though brandishing a weapon. “Stay the hell away from me. If you try to get in this cab I will call the cops and you can spend the night in the town lock-up instead of your hotel room. It’s over, Tanner. Done. This is the last we’ll talk about it.”
She retrieved the box of sweet treats and walked backward away from Tanner, reluctant to take her focus off him.
The cab pulled up to the curb and Marcie turned her attention away from Tanner. One quick peek over her shoulder as she slid into the seat proved he was smart enough to take her threat of calling the cops seriously.
Heart pounding, she rattled the address off to the pleasant, balding driver. As he hit the gas and drove onto the road, she blew out a giant breath. The eight-minute drive was spent in silence, and was just enough time to get her erratic breathing and hammering pulse under control.
“That will be ten dollars, miss,” the driver said as he coasted to a stop in front of the requested address.
She dropped a ten and a five into his open palm. “Thank you. Keep the change.”
“Thank you, miss. You have yourself a good evening.”
That was the plan. The night certainly couldn’t end worse than it began.
Marcie opened the door and stepped out into the oven-hot air. With her legs a bit unsteady, she took in the sight of Hook’s home. The boxy, modern style wasn’t one seen frequently in the desert, and was quite the step up from the trailer park all three of them grew up in. Managing the only garage in town apparently paid well, though she wasn’t naïve enough to believe that was the MC’s only source of income.
Typically, desert residences were one story; cooling a second floor in the scorching heat of summer became quite pricey. Hook, however, had two stories, and the entire roof of the home was covered in solar panels. Why every house in the desert didn’t have solar panels was something that always baffled her. Must have something to do with the large upfront expense, though the savings over the long haul were entirely worth it.
The intoxicating smell of grilling meat tickled her nose and her stomach growled in approval. Hook and Striker were just feet away. That knowledge calmed some of her nerves and comforted her. She’d missed them throughout the years. The two had been such an integral part of her childhood. Friends, protectors, and in Striker’s case, a surrogate brother. Her feelings for Hook had never been quite so benign.
A car door slammed and Marcie jumped, spinning just in time to see Tanner
emerge from a second taxi.
“What the hell?” she muttered. Reacting on instinct, she started to march toward him, but then thought the better of it. He’d have to be completely stupid, besides being an asshole, to actually try anything out here with Hook and Striker just a scream away, but she’d be the stupid one to test the theory.
Tanner’s footsteps crunched along the gravel.
“You need to call that driver back here right now. You aren’t welcome here and you’re not coming in with me. How the hell did you even know where to go?”
He smirked and her blood went from the normal ninety-eight degrees to boiling in an instant. “I remembered the address that your friend gave you.”
Marcie took a calming breath and willed her legs to cease trembling. “I’m serious, Tanner. Hook and Striker aren’t like your friends. You don’t want to mess with them.” The urge to punch that smug grin off his face was almost more than she could resist.
Fine, his funeral. “You know what? Knock yourself out, asshole. Just remember this conversation when one or both of them are kicking your ass.”
As she marched up the walkway, she attempted to absorb the quiet peace of the fading evening. It would not be ruined because of Tanner.
The door swung open before they reached it and Hook stepped out, his eyes darkening with lust the moment they landed on her.
“Hey, Hook. I brought you some brownies from Sugar Rush bakery.” She winced. Could she sound any more like a pissed off woman hoping to fool everyone with phony brightness?
Apparently not. Or at least she wasn’t fooling Hook. He shifted his focus beyond her and his gaze iced over. “Hey, gorgeous. I see you still remember the way to my heart.” Brownies had been Hook’s all-time favorite treat when they were kids. If the beaming smile he threw her, despite the murderous look he tossed Tanner, was any indication, he approved of her offering.
He took the dessert and kissed her cheek. For a friendly hello, he lingered a bit too long. “What the fuck is he doing here?” he whispered against her ear.