Blood & Bones: Deacon (Blood Fury MC Book 4)

by Jeanne St. James

  Thank fuck that wasn’t meant for him.

  “Okay, Tom, let me deal with this... Yes... I have it under control, Tom... Okay... I understand. I’ll let you know once I talk to them and see what the counteroffer is...” She dropped her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Yes... Sure, Tom...” Her knuckles were turning white while holding the cell. “I understand. We’re on the same page... Okay. Talk to you tomorrow. Bye.”

  She pulled the phone from her ear, jabbed at the End button more times, and with more force, than necessary and slapped it face down on the desk. She dropped her head into her folded arms and growled.

  Oh yeah, she was all worked up. Her blood was pumping and now all Deke had to do was get her to focus that frustrated energy into a frenzied quickie. He stopped himself from rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

  He should’ve told Judge to put in some earplugs or something.

  She lifted her head, a few strands of her hair falling loose from her bun and framing her now bruise-free face. “They hire me to represent them. To make the best deal for their company without going to court. They should let me do what I do best and stop fucking trying to mansplain what I need to do. I know what the fuck I need to do, that’s why they pay me three hundred an hour.”

  Deacon’s step stuttered as he moved closer. “What?”

  Her green eyes hit his again, quickly changing from annoyance to confusion. “What?”

  “What was the last thing you said?”

  She frowned. “My billable rate?”

  “You charge three hundred fuckin’ bucks an hour?”

  “That’s not much.”

  “Are you shittin’ me?”

  “Deacon, that’s not much for an experienced civil litigator.”

  “It ain’t?”

  “Well, up here, it’s on the high side. But down in Philly or Pittsburgh, it would be a basement rate. Even though my rate’s at the top of the chart for this area and the area of law I concentrate on...” The breath hissed out of her and she did a slight shrug. “I’m worth it.”

  He stared at the woman behind his desk. She stared back. Neither blinked.

  Finally, she asked, “Did you lock the door?”

  “Did you want me to?”

  “Isn’t that why you’re in here?”

  “Maybe I just want to ask you to lunch.”

  She made a yeah, right face. “No, you don’t.”

  He wasn’t done talking about the bomb she just dropped. “How much did your ex make?”

  “Why?”

  “Just curious.”

  “I don’t know... He was salaried. What does this have to do with anything?”

  “You made more than him, right?”

  “Didn’t I tell you that?” She released an impatient sigh. “The harder I work, the more I make. His salary was what it was. Why does this matter, Deke? Are women not allowed to make more than their spouse?”

  “For some, probably not. It emasculates them.”

  Her lips quirked at his use of a word she didn’t expect him to know. “Would you feel emasculated if your woman made more than you?”

  “Fuck no. Truth? That shit makes me hard. Powerful women like you turn me the fuck on.”

  “Would it drive you to work harder and make more?”

  “No. Know why?”

  Her lips twitched again. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

  “Because there’s more to life than work, Reese. A lot fuckin’ more. Our life starts the day we’re born, it ends the day we die. We’re supposed to live life in between those two major moments.”

  “I love what I do.”

  “Because you like control and power. But it ain’t everything. We had that discussion about sometimes lettin’ go. Lettin’ someone else worry about the other shit. Takin’ a break. Havin’ fun. Why are you workin’ so hard if you ain’t gonna enjoy the result of your success?”

  Reese sat back in his office chair and stared at him. “Why did you come in here?”

  “You know why.”

  She stood up. “Then let’s get to it. I have work to do.” She shimmied up her just-above-the-knee, narrow black skirt—which was hot as fuck—and reached under it to yank down her panties. The red silky fabric fell around her high heels and she stepped out of them. “Over the desk again?”

  “Reese...”

  “Or, I know...” She turned, planted her palms against the wall and glanced over her shoulder. “How about this, instead?” She tipped her bare ass to the point he could see everything she was offering. And even what she wasn’t.

  When he didn’t move, she reached back and slid her finger through her folds. He set his jaw against her tempting display.

  Because... for fuck’s sake... he had wanted to fuck her. That was his intent when he came into his office. But now...

  Fuck! Was he really thinking twice about fucking Reese? What the fuck was wrong with him?

  He closed his eyes for a second. They opened when he heard her jerk the desk drawer open, where he now kept a supply of wraps for all the sex they’d been having.

  She threw one on the desk and assumed her position again. He dropped his gaze from her to the wrap.

  “Let’s go, Deke. I don’t have all day.”

  She didn’t have all day.

  Hurry up and fuck me, Deke, so I can get back to work and you’ll stop bothering me.

  Hurry up and fuck me because I have more important things to do.

  Hurry up and fuck me because that’s all I want from you.

  While she’d never said any of those things out loud, he could hear them in his head. She didn’t have to say them, he felt those unsaid words down to his bones.

  He lunged forward with a snarl, swiped the wrap from the desk, tucked it between his bared teeth, and jerked opened his jeans enough to expose his dick. He ripped open the wrapper, rolled the latex on, and moved to where she waited.

  She gasped when he gripped a fistful of her hair—not caring that it wrecked her goddamn bun—shoved her cheek into the wall and dragged his throbbing dick down her crease, pausing for a second on the hole he hadn’t had yet. With regret, he slid the head of his dick lower until it caught where it needed to be.

  He hesitated.

  He didn’t like the feeling of being used.

  He was more than just a dick.

  The minute Warren was caught, she would leave. She’d go back to her own bubble and he’d be left behind in his.

  He loved his life, but he wasn’t sure if it would be enough without Reese in it.

  His chest tightened as he stared at the woman he held against the wall. She hadn’t fought against him being rough with her, she hadn’t voiced a complaint. In fact, she was waiting for him to continue.

  But, for fuck’s sake...

  His heart thumped heavily in his chest.

  This wasn’t what he wanted.

  Yes, he wanted to fuck Reese, but he wanted more.

  He fucking wanted a lot more.

  Christ.

  He’d lost his fucking mind. He’d never wanted more before.

  Not once.

  He’d always been the one to take what was offered and then move on. No lingering. No exchange of anything other than body fluids. Not even phone numbers.

  Sometimes not even real names.

  His chest was not only tight, it now hurt. A stabbing pain made him suck in a breath.

  “Deacon...”

  His nostrils flared when she tried to turn her head to look at him, but he kept her from doing so by forcing her face to remain where it was.

  He waited for the odd feeling to settle. For the deep need to disappear.

  He wanted to chalk it up to a case of crossed wires in his brain. A momentary misfire of neurons.

  He waited.

  One heartbeat.

  Two.

  None of it went away. On the third heartbeat, the ache moved from his chest to his gut, encompassing him. He feared it would swallow him
whole.

  Her flat, emotionless, very foreign words of, “You don’t want me,” invaded his brain.

  She was wrong. He wanted her.

  That was the fucking problem.

  His need for her was seeping into his very soul.

  Only, she didn’t want to give him what he wanted. What he hadn’t realized he needed until that exact fucking moment, when it struck him like a stun gun and took him to his knees.

  With one hand, he ripped off the wrap, dropped it to the floor and tucked his now semi-soft dick away. He yanked her skirt down far enough to cover her ass.

  “Deacon, what—” Her breath hissed from her when he used his grip in her hair to twist her around until she faced him with wide eyes. Before she could say anything else, he gripped her throat, shoved her back against the wall and took her mouth.

  Whatever she wanted to say ended up muffled by the kiss. Her fingers curled into the T-shirt under his cut. They didn’t push him away, instead pulled him closer.

  He deepened the kiss, hoping she’d understand what he wanted—hell, needed—without having to say the words. Without having to slice himself open to expose that need she might not share.

  He didn’t want to hear her say no. He wanted to hear her say yes.

  There was no guarantee on how she’d answer. Because of that, he didn’t ask. He used his mouth, the intensity of his kiss, to show her how much he wanted her.

  And not only for sex.

  He wanted that “more” she might not be willing to give him.

  Vibrations worked their way under his palm and up her throat. Stealing her groan, he mixed it with his own.

  Once again, he was rock hard, but he wasn’t taking it there. Not now. Not this time.

  This time was a message. One he hoped she’d hear loud and clear.

  She twisted her head enough to break the seal of their kiss, their lips just a fraction apart, their intermingled breaths ragged and quick.

  When she whispered, “Deacon,” her eyes were squeezed shut.

  It was then he knew she heard his unspoken message.

  His hand on her throat slid up to cup her jaw. “Reese.” Her name came out as rough as sandpaper, but at least it didn’t sound desperate.

  Her green eyes opened. They were troubled but tinged with surprise. “I don’t...” Her words faded off on a breath.

  He pinned his forehead to hers and whispered, “You don’t gotta say anything.”

  She tried again. “I don’t...”

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  Fuck.

  “Reese, don’t...” He mentally cursed the desperation he was trying to hide.

  And failing.

  Goddamn it.

  “I’m not sure I can...”

  He hung on her words, worried how they would end.

  “I don’t—”

  Her phone rang on the desk, causing them both to start. He didn’t want her to answer it. Whoever it was could leave a message.

  This moment was about them. No one else.

  In the inner pocket of his cut, his phone beeped. A text message wasn’t as important as what was currently going on between him and Reese. Everybody else could just fuck off.

  He spat out a curse when they heard a pounding on the door .

  The shouted, “We gotta go!” caused ice to slither through his veins. “Deacon!”

  Deacon quickly stepped back and finished securing his jeans and belt while Reese hurried to shimmy her skirt back in place and tug her panties up.

  She snagged her phone when it beeped at the same time Deacon’s did.

  Her sharp inhale of breath had him snagging her phone from her grip and reading the message on the screen.

  BILLY’S HERE!

  “Yo, asshole! We gotta go!”

  He rushed to the door, unlocked it and faced an agitated Judge.

  “Rook sent out a mass text. You get it?”

  He hadn’t checked his phone yet but he was sure of what the text said now that he read what Reilly sent Reese.

  “Got my .40. Grab your cuffs, pepper spray and .40, too. We need to move.” His green eyes landed on Reese. He frowned at her disheveled appearance but didn’t mention it. “You stay here with the dogs. Gonna lock the front door and set the alarm. Don’t let anyone in.”

  Her spine snapped straight. “No.”

  Judge’s eyebrows launched into his hairline. “No?”

  Reese set her jaw. “No, I’m going with you.”

  Judge shot Deacon a look that clearly stated, “Get your woman on a leash.”

  Right. He wanted to see his cousin try that with Cassie. Judge’s deep voice would end up so high-pitched, it would shatter glass.

  “For fuck’s sake, we don’t got time for this shit,” Judge growled. “I’m takin’ my sled. You want her ridin’ shotgun with you, you deal with it.”

  Deacon knew arguing with her would just waste time. He talked as he moved. “Takin’ my truck. Leavin’ the dogs here.” He opened the small closet in his office and squatted in front of the safe, spinning the dial. “You’ll do what I say and stay out of the way, you got me?”

  The safe clicked and he jerked open the door. He popped to his feet after grabbing his loaded Ruger .40 and his single shoulder holster, which hung above the safe. He shucked his cut, slipped the holster on, secured his gun and shrugged his cut back on over it.

  “You carry a gun?”

  “Only for self-protection. Pepper spray’s usually my go-to for apprehension of skips. Not pluggin’ someone with a bullet keeps me out of prison. And to do that while capturin’ a fugitive is sometimes way too fuckin’ temptin’.”

  He was still moving as he talked. He grabbed her arm as he passed her and used it to propel her out of the office. “Those fuckin’ shoes are gonna slow us down. Take them off, put them back on once you’re in the truck.”

  “But—”

  “Reese. Fuckin’ A. No fuckin’ arguments right now. Just listen or stay here.”

  With a nod, she slipped off her shoes and followed quickly on his heels.

  “Call your sister, find out what the fuck’s goin’ on. Hear me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Put her on speaker. I need to know what went down. Or what’s still goin’ down.”

  He locked the front door, ignoring the whines of the dogs being left behind.

  He didn’t want to worry about them, also. Having Reese along while dealing with Warren would be more than enough. Though, the dogs listened way better than the blonde sitting shotgun in his truck.

  He got that it was her instinct to argue. It was what made her a damn good lawyer, but now was not the time.

  Not with her sister’s safety on the line.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hearing her sister’s voice through the phone’s speaker should have settled her nerves, but instead it made her more anxious, especially when Reilly was speaking so fast.

  “Dutch was out picking up pizza. Rev was out on a test drive. I don’t know where Cage disappeared to. The only ones here were Whip and Rook.”

  Deacon growled from the driver’s seat as he drove like a maniac from one end of town, where his bail bonds business was located, to the other, where Dutch’s Garage was.

  He was driving so crazily, Reese had to hold the phone in her lap with one hand to avoid it going airborne, while she gripped the handle above the passenger door, so she didn’t go airborne, either.

  His Ford’s engine was screaming as he dodged traffic. She was surprised he didn’t have cops chasing him yet.

  “Judge there?” Deacon yelled.

  “No.”

  “You okay?” Reese asked, her heart in her throat and her stomach twisted.

  If anything happened to Reilly...

  “I’m just... Yes, I’m okay.” Her sister might be in one piece but her voice shook as much as Reese’s fingers.

  “Where’s he at?” Deacon asked.

  “Who?” Reilly asked.

  “
Warren!” He shouted. “Christ!”

  “I don’t know. Whip shoved me into the office and told me to stay there.”

  “Can you see anythin’ from inside the office?”

  “No.”

  “Can you hear anythin’?”

  “No.”

  “Fuck,” he muttered.

  “Do you want me to go out and check?”

  “No!” Reese shouted before Deacon could. “You stay put. It’s important you listen.”

  Deacon shot her a side glance, then shook his head.

  She bugged out her eyes at him.

  “How do you know it was him?” Deacon asked. The tires chirped slightly as he took a corner too fast.

  “I saw him.”

  “From a distance?” he asked.

  Please say from a distance.

  “No. I got a weird phone call about some car part I never heard of. I had no idea what the guy was talking about, so I went to ask Whip, who was out back in the yard searching for a taillight or something. When I walked out...” She just stopped speaking.

  “When you walked out what?” Reese prodded, her stomach now doing flips, and not from Deacon’s driving.

  “I didn’t see him. I didn’t see it coming.”

  “See what coming?” Reese asked, panic clawing up her throat.

  “The baseball bat.”

  “What?” Reese screamed over Deacon’s searing curse. “Are you hurt?”

  “Luckily, Rook was hiding out back smoking... you know... and must have spotted him first. He tackled Billy and the bat just barely skimmed my head.”

  “It did what?” Reese shrieked. Barely skimmed her head?

  “Yeah, he tried to hit a home run, but Rook took him down before he could make solid contact.”

  “Holy shit! Do you need to go to the hospital?”

  Deacon reached over, squeezed her knee and murmured, “Reese, keep your shit together.”

  Right! Freaking out over her sister’s head almost being smashed in by a baseball bat wielded by a psycho motherfucker wouldn’t do any good.

  Got it.

  She’d keep that in mind for next time.

  “When Rook got him down to the ground, Whip grabbed me, shoved me inside and into the office. And then I don’t know what happened after that.”