by Lilly Atlas
“One shot of tequila coming up.”
Tequila? She’d make a complete fool out of herself for sure.
Kenny returned quickly and placed the shot on the bar in front of her. Emily eyed it like it was a cockroach, and the handsome young bartender laughed as he ran a hand over his buzzed blond hair, ending with a scratch to the back of his neck. “You sure you want that, honey?”
“Absolutely.”
He laughed again, and a wide smile broke out across his face, which was covered with the same blond stubble his head was. “In that case I’ll join you. A girl as pretty as you should never drink alone.”
She smiled at him. Could she befriend him? Would he spill club secrets she could pass on to Snake? The thought made her feel dirty.
“Bottoms up, darlin’.”
Emily picked up the shot glass, stared at it for a split second, tilted her head back, and slammed it down in one gulp. Her eyes flooded as fire burned a path down to her stomach. When she brought her head back down and returned the glass to the bar top she wanted to pat herself on the back. By some miracle she’d managed not to cough and sputter.
“Well, there ya go, honey.” Kenny laughed. “Nice job. Want another?”
Emily shook her head. “Just a beer, please.” Two of those and she’d be dancing on the tables with the rest of the women here.
Kenny shot her a knowing grin before he reached under the bar and snagged a beer. With a quick flip of his hand he popped the metallic cap off and held the frosty bottle out to her.
“Thanks.” She smiled at him. It was now or never. “So, um, save me a dance?” Trixie’s line worked on the big guy at the door, so why not now?
“Sorry, honey. I’m a prospect.” He pointed to a patch over his heart that read Prospect. “That means no club who—uh, girls, for me.”
Emily blinked away tears. It was unrealistic to expect that the first person she talked to would spill their guts so she could save Johnny, but it’s what she’d hoped.
“Have fun tonight,” he said with a wink as he moved on down the bar.
Emily grabbed the beer and spun around, leaning her back against the bar while she surveyed the room and tried to decide her next move. How the hell was she supposed to pull this off? She stuck out like a frightened cat at the dog park.
After taking a sip of her beer, she lowered the bottle, and her eyes locked on the bronze colored ones of the guy who she’d witnessed getting a lap dance. The man was enormous, he had to be close to six and a half feet tall. Even his muscles had muscles. She couldn’t tell exactly how long his dark hair was, but it had to be fairly long because it was tied back at the nape of his neck.
He looked intense, tough, and more than a little scary, but man, was he gorgeous. The tingling she’d experienced earlier came back full force as the intimidating goliath walked in her direction.
Her insides shook, and Emily took a subtle glimpse right and left to see if he was walking toward someone on either side of her, but his attention remained trained on her as he advanced with purpose.
Showtime.
She swallowed her nerves. As soon as she was done here, Johnny was safe. No matter what it took—she’d get this man to talk to her. Problem was, she had no game and no clue how to entice a man like this.
Jester enjoyed the bounce and sway of artificially enhanced tits moving in front of his face while the stripper—Amber maybe—raised her arms above her head, thrusting them out even farther. He winked at her before she turned her back to him, and bent down, her ass replacing her tits in his line of sight.
Despite the sexy dancer, Jester’s mind drifted to the Grimm Brothers. The money grab was his project; he was fully in charge. The challenge was one he welcomed, but he wanted it to be more than just swiping Snake’s money. He wanted the bastard humiliated and well aware of who was responsible.
Acer was supposed to find him so they could toss around some ideas. He scanned the room for his brother, but all thoughts of money and enemies fled his mind when his gaze landed on a raven-haired beauty standing at the bar, giving the impression that she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.
She stood rigid, back to the bar, and even from twenty-five feet away, Jester could detect waves of tension radiating from her. Damn, was she a looker. Long, shapely legs extending from a short black leather skirt and ending in black, strappy heel encased feet caught his eye. That is until he trailed upward and zeroed in on her breasts.
Goddamn, the woman was blessed.
From where he sat, her hair shone black and glossy, cascading down and ending just at the top of those mouthwatering mounds. He couldn’t make out all her facial features from this distance, but he could clearly see she had a body made for sin.
Beautiful women were certainly not a novelty around the clubhouse. At some point, someone must have sent out a memo letting the unattractive ones know not to bother coming around. The difference was, however, that the chicks looking to bang a biker typically knew they had it going on. They oozed overconfidence and were aggressive in the use of their physical features as a way to get what they wanted, whereas this nervous creature didn’t even seem to notice she had tits, let alone understand how to use them to her advantage. She chewed on her bottom lip and scratched at the label on her bottle.
Intrigued, Jester gave his entertainment a light pat on her hip. “Thanks, darlin’. I gotta check on something for a bit.”
Amber turned and straddled his lap, plopping her tight ass down on his thighs with a pout of her painted lips. “You sure, big guy? I was just getting warmed up.” Her voice was whiny, and he ground his teeth together to keep from telling her off.
“I said up,” Jester reiterated, a bit more forcefully this time, rising as he spoke, which caused Amber to stumble when her spiked heels met the ground. He didn’t like having to repeat himself.
Pissed off, she flounced away only to be snagged up by one of his brothers, and begin dancing all over again.
Easy come, easy go.
Jester turned his attention back to the curious little number at the bar. His focus remained trained on her as he lengthened his stride, moving in her direction. He chuckled inwardly the moment she noticed him, at the wide-eyed deer-in-the-headlights expression that crossed her pretty face.
When he reached the bar, Jester wedged himself in sideways next to her, facing her. “Excuse me, darlin’,” he said, smiling as her eyes grew even wider. Eyes that he now saw were a spellbinding shade of very fair, almost baby blue. “Did you wash that skirt with Windex?”
Her eyebrows drew down and she shook her head slightly, as though trying to solve a puzzle. She glanced down at her skirt then turned to face him. “I’m sorry? What are you asking me?” She seemed completely baffled by both his attention and his question.
With his height advantage, Jester had an excellent view of her two mounds of creamy flesh as they swelled above a shirt that appeared to be a size or two too small. Not that he was complaining. “I asked if you washed your skirt with Windex?”
“Um, no I didn’t. Why would you ever think I washed my skirt with Windex?”
“Well, I can see myself in it.” Jester paused and waited for the corny line to sink in.
She blinked and she stared at him for a heartbeat, obviously letting his odd statement rattle around in her brain. Then, she took him completely by surprise when she threw back her head and let out a genuine laugh. The husky sound combined with the view of the milky skin of her exposed throat had Jester’s blood pooling in parts south, and he had to shift his hips to avoid brushing his stiffening cock against her. That would send her running for the hills for sure. She had an air of purity about her, so opposite every other woman at the party.
“Well, that’s better,” he told her. Unable to stop himself, he reached out and brushed a lock of silken hair from her shoulder.
“What’s better?”
“You laughing. You were standing so straight and stiff over here I thought you might snap in half if
someone bumped you. Figured I could use my smooth way with words and my irresistible charm to get you to loosen up.”
She chuckled again. “So you decided to go with the most awful pickup line ever?”
He clutched a hand to his chest in a dramatic fashion. Despite her uncomfortable appearance, she had some sass to her, a fact he found alluring. “Girl, you wound me. I’ll have you know that line has earned me a blowjob or two in the past.”
She faltered for a second, seeming surprised by his blatant language before she snickered. “You’re kidding, right?”
Each time the woman laughed her breasts jiggled, and Jester was helpless to do anything but stare at them. He was a tit man through and through. The bigger the better, and this woman had a rack on her that had him salivating to taste. As opposed to Amber’s, whose were obviously full of silicone, this woman’s were natural, and would mold perfectly in his hands. “Okay, maybe it was just once.” He winked at her. “You got a name, darlin’?”
“Emily.”
“Well, Em, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Jester.” He held out a hand and waited. She stared at it for a few seconds like it might be a trap. She must have decided he was safe enough, which was a bit of a joke, because she reached out and placed her small feminine hand in his massive one.
He lifted it to his lips, and nipped the pad of her thumb, enjoying the soft gasp that escaped her sexy mouth.
He didn’t release her, though he lowered their joined hands. Her skin was smooth and had a fresh clean laundry smell. He wanted to enjoy it for a moment. “So, Em, what the fuck is someone as sexy as you doing over here all by yourself, abusing that poor bottle?”
Emily peered down at the bottle in her hand, seeming to have been unaware that she’d peeled more than half the label off. “Oh…um…this is not my typical scene. I’m new in town. I came with a…sort of friend. You know Trixie? She, um, she lives in my complex.”
She came with Trixie? Jester almost laughed out loud. The two women couldn’t be more opposite. “Everyone knows Trixie.”
Emily needed to be rescued from her solo drinking. He gave her a gentle tug, and slung his hefty arm around her shoulders. Even though she tensed under his touch her soft curves molded to him. Damn that felt nice. “A sort of friend, huh? Well, hon, let me introduce you to a few people. Make you feel more comfortable.”
He propelled her toward the opposite side of the room where Hook and Striker sat at a table drinking with their ol’ ladies. Marcie and Lila seemed more Emily’s speed, and maybe she’d loosen up a bit.
“Hey, it’s the guest of honor!” Hook yelled as Jester approached.
Emily looked up at him from under his arm with a quizzical expression.
“I’ll fill you in later, darlin’.”
“Hey, assholes,” Jester said as they reached the table. “Guys, this here is Emily. Emily, that’s Hook.” He pointed to his brother on the left side of the table. “And that’s his ol’ lady, Marcie. Next to Hook is Striker, and sitting on his lap because she’s a horny wench, is his fiancé, Dr. Lila Emerson.”
Lila cracked up. “Or just Lila because I’m a little drunk, and I’m horny, as he said, so no need for any formalities. Nice to meet you, Emily.”
Everyone laughed at Lila’s tipsy monologue, including Emily, whose wide eyes gave her a bit of a shell shocked appearance. Jester was completely charmed by her intriguing combination of innocence, an outrageously sexy body, and a voice made for bedroom talk.
“Hmmm.” Striker spoke up, “I may need to take the good doctor upstairs for a house call pretty soon.” He leaned in and nuzzled the side of Lila’s neck as she giggled.
Jester pulled out a chair for Emily and she sat, ramrod straight, but her face no longer held the terrified look it had when he’d first noticed her at the bar. He plopped down next to her and caught sight of Acer waving to him from across the room. He’d nearly forgotten about their plans to discuss the money grab.
Never in his life had he delayed club business for a woman, but the one next to him had his full attention. He held up two hands and mouthed, “Ten minutes,” to a frowning Acer.
Chapter Four
Emily sipped her beer and smiled politely as Jester bantered back and forth with the other two men. Nobody seemed to mind that she didn’t join the conversation, and for that she was grateful. In the span of twenty-four hours, her entire world had tilted on its axis and she could barely process it, let alone be expected to keep up a witty conversation.
While her brain appeared to have shut down, her body was fully alert and zinging with sensations Emily hadn’t felt in a very long time. Awareness of the huge, sexually potent man sitting just a breath away from her danced across her nerve endings, and every few seconds when his body brushed hers in some way, she gritted her teeth to keep from shivering in delight. A muscled thigh would press against her leg or his intricately tattooed arm would graze the side of her breast, causing her nipples to tighten and ache.
Emily’s panties had dampened the moment Jester’s teeth made contact with her thumb, and she now sat with wet panties and hardened nipples at a table full of strangers. What was happening to her? The stress of the situation must be wearing on her, causing her body to go haywire.
It wasn’t long before Jester’s friends left. Hook and Marcie made their way to the bar, while Striker and Lila headed upstairs. Apparently, since he was the VP, he had a room here at the clubhouse.
Alone at the table with Jester, Emily turned toward him only to find his gaze locked on her chest. She resisted the urge to look down and check if her nipples were showing through the thin halter she wore. If the hungry look on his face was any indication, they were.
Jester’s lustful stare only served to intensify the ache, and made her wish she were at home alone so she could solve the problem herself. That was the only way this particular predicament had been taken care of for quite some time.
He moved his focus to her face, a smirk on his enticing mouth, but he didn’t comment on her obvious state of arousal.
Time to take her mind off her awakening libido and get it back on her mission. “So, you’re the guest of honor.”
He nodded, pride evident on his face. “I was voted in as Sergeant at Arms today. Guys decided it warranted a celebration.”
“What’s a Sergeant at Arms?”
“Means I’m in charge of security and order in the club, discipline and maintenance of our rules and bylaws.” He reached across the table and plucked the empty beer bottle out of her hand, sliding it aside so he could play with her fingers.
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Jesus, the man’s hands were masculine; big and strong with just the right amount of roughness as they rubbed over her softer skin. They would feel unbelievable running over her belly, her breasts, and dipping into her—
Shit!
Where were these thoughts coming from? Jester was the one hundred percent polar opposite of every man she’d ever dated, not that there had been a long list. She’d never even been attracted to a man like him before. For crying out loud, he was dangerous and most likely a criminal. She needed to get her head on straight and think about her brother instead of her long neglected urges.
“You ever been on a bike, gorgeous?”
“A motorcycle?” She tried to ignore the flare of delight when he called her gorgeous.
He nodded, dark eyes dancing with mischief. “I’m not much for a ten-speed.”
Emily snorted at the image of this hulk of a man pedaling a ten-speed bicycle. “No. I’ve never been on a motorcycle.”
“Want to? You free tomorrow? We can go midmorning, before it gets too hot.”
Refusal was on the tip of Emily’s tongue. She needed to distance herself from this entire situation, but then she remembered Johnny’s battered face and Snake’s threats. This could be her in. A chance to get in close to someone in the club, and get enough information to prevent Snake from murdering her brother. “Okay, that sounds like fun.”
“It’s more than fun, darlin’. There’s nothing like soaring through the wide-open desert on a bike. Closest to heaven I’ve ever been, well, at least with my clothes on.”
Emily gasped, and shook her head at his outrageous comment. He was funny, handsome, and charismatic, not at all what she’d expected to encounter here. She assumed she’d meet clones of Snake, just in a different club. She thought she’d be afraid for her personal safety the entire time. While she was uncomfortable in the unfamiliar situation, and afraid for her brother, she didn’t feel that Jester or the men he introduced her to were of any threat to her. At least not while they were ignorant to her true purpose for being there.
“You free all day? Don’t have to work or anything?”
“Nope, I’m a first grade teacher. I’m free for two months. Oh, and well, I’m new in town, so I haven’t started working in this area yet.”
Damn. She sucked at espionage. Might as well wear a flashing bullshit sign.
Jester threw back his head and let out a great bellowing laugh. “First grade teacher. Fuck, I should have been able to guess that one.”
With a frown Emily stared down at the table. Was he making fun of her?
“Hey.”
She felt a tug on the back of her head as Jester gently pulled at her hair, tilting her face to look up at him.
“No offense intended, gorgeous. You just ooze sweetness, like I imagine a first grade teacher would have to.”
Emily smiled, charmed by this gigantic tattooed biker who looked like he could kill half the men in this room without breaking a sweat. Time to get out of here. Mission accomplished for the night. Time to quit while she was still ahead.
Jester must have read her thoughts because he stood, and tugged her up toward him. He slung a heavy arm across her shoulders and started for the door. “This party is only going to get crazier as the night goes on. Judging by how uncomfortable you still look, you may want to call it a night, hon.”
He was right, and his thoughtfulness touched something in her she refused to dwell on.