“Jase,” she scolded, laughing. She leaned her head against his shoulder, reveling in the feel of the warm body behind her and the strength of the arms wrapped around her. It was so good to be held again. She hadn’t realized how much she missed this simple intimacy and interaction.
***
Hoss watched her all afternoon. He saw the fear that flashed across DeeDee’s face as Tug forced her to abandon the island of safety Winger’s bike presented. He watched her expression change again as she two-stepped and twirled between the group of Rebels, loving the bright smile that curved her lips just for him when she reached out for his hand. He watched her features soften as she thanked them with a hug and a kiss for each, her affection evident in her gaze.
He watched for the things she didn’t want them to see, too. He saw her cataloging things that her dead daughter hadn’t done, things she never got to experience. Saw her face close down when approached by a member of whom she wasn’t certain, and saw that same face lighten and open for one she trusted.
He saw as she affectionately greeted groups of men, inviting herself to discussions with a kiss and a touch. Saw her mount the steps to the back porch of Mica’s place, watching as first Slate and then Tug pulled her into a close embrace, feeling a possessive twist in his gut when Tug touched her with casual familiarity. Then he watched as Tug directed her gaze across the heads of the partygoers. Hoss saw the moment she transformed from the strikingly attractive woman he had known for years into an exquisite thing of beauty, the change driven by whatever it was she had seen.
She grew still, focused, taking in deep, rapid breaths through slightly parted lips. Her cheeks flushed hotly and her face held a look he had never seen before, not even when she was married to Winger. Anticipation, longing, desire, and fear all were a puzzle of emotions playing across her features as Tug caged her chin, keeping her face pointed towards whatever it was he wanted her to see.
Twisting half around, he saw a dark head moving amongst the crowd towards Mica’s house, catching only fleeting glimpses of a man’s face as he single-mindedly wove through the bodies in the crowd that stood between them. He turned back in time to see Slate lifting DeeDee over the railing of the porch, gently setting her on the ground. Taking a dozen steps her direction, he abruptly halted when he saw the dark head moving like a flung arrow towards DeeDee belonged to Spencer.
Too far away to get there in time to intervene, he was still close enough to witness the reverence with which Spencer touched her face, how he cupped her cheeks as if she were the most precious thing he had ever encountered. Then, when he covered her mouth with his own and kissed her like she was everything he ever wanted, as if she were already his, Hoss read her eager reaction. Her back arched instinctively, her body pressing closer to Spencer as the kiss slowed and they separated. Her face turned upward and Hoss saw her eyes flutter open, a look of such deep longing on her features that he felt that twist in his gut again.
He had long cherished her friendship and was proud of the way the club had supported her when Winger died. Then, for a long time, he had hoped for something more between them, but he knew he would never see that look directed at him. And, if he was honest, he had never ached for her as it appeared Spencer did. He now knew what Bingo meant, because having seen it, even as it was bittersweet, Hoss would be lying if he tried to say he didn’t want that for her again. All of that.
Now he would just have to help convince her.
***
“Hey,” Jase said softly, arms reaching out to capture her and pull her against him again, letting her lean against his side, smiling as she wrapped her arms around his waist. She kept leaving him to go talk to people. While she eventually circled back around, he missed her while she was gone and kept a close eye on her progress, anticipating having her in his arms again.
He said, “I have a feeling this party is winding down. Mason walked by a minute ago and told people to keep the noise down. It looks like Road Runner is packing up his grilling kit, too. You want anything else before it’s all gone?”
She shook her head, hair rustling against his shoulder. Her breath fluttered feather-light against his neck; she had curved into him as if she were exhausted. He realized she probably was, because she had been up since early morning and had ridden for hours to get here, and then spent her time here at the party on her feet. “You tired?”
He heard a muffled sound of agreement and grinned, turning her to wrap his arms around her shoulders and belly, supporting her body and securing it against his own. Her hand rose to his arm and she patted gently before shifting and moving again, pulling away and standing on her own.
She turned to look at him and he stilled, taking in the full effect of her beauty from not two feet away, face shadowed in the uncertain light filtering through the trees. The sounds of the party muted, fading away as he focused on her. He saw fluffy bangs over eyes he knew to be a deep shade of blue. The bangs were a match in color to the dark red hair partially tamed into a side braid falling over one shoulder, the tail resting alongside one full, rounded breast.
He reached out a hand to cup her face and gave her a quick smile. Their conversation had been enjoyable, and even more than that, he had loved holding her, touching her all night, and wasn’t ready for things to end yet. He found himself wanting more than these few hours with her, and impulsively told her, “You need to come home with me,” not couching it as a question, but she still shook her head in response.
For the first time all night, there was no smile on her face or in her voice, and he thought she looked sad as she spoke. “I was assigned a hotel suite. They’ll check to make sure I’m where I’m supposed to be…make sure I’m okay, so I need to go there tonight. Thanks, though, it’s a…kind offer.”
Kind offer, he thought with a snort. She wasn’t getting away that easily. He knew he had affected her tonight; her responses to his kisses and touch were real, without artifice. She wanted…him. “Then I’ll go with you,” he countered, slipping his hand around the back of her head, pulling her towards him. “I’d like to spend the night with you, DeeDee. I want to be with you. Are you going to tell me I’m alone in this? Because I think I’ll have to call you a liar if you try.”
He moved closer, pausing briefly when his mouth was a fraction of an inch from hers, the heat of her breath gusting against his lips. “I want you,” he said and kissed her. Slanting his mouth over hers, he saw her eyes flutter closed just before his did and drew in a harsh breath through their joined lips when her hand wove into his hair, tugging gently. The kiss waxed and waned, beginning again with every gasp and moan. “I want you,” he repeated in a strained voice, breaking away to rest his forehead against hers, desperately trying to control his breathing. He didn’t mean to make too big a fool out of himself if he had completely misread her reactions. “God, DeeDee. Let me be with you.”
Her fingers dipped into his back pocket and he heard her whisper, “Admiral. Room seven-twelve, if you’re interested.” She stepped back, dropping her hands, and he immediately missed her touch, wanted his hands on her again. “Seven-twelve,” she repeated, and he reached back with his hand, tracing and recognizing the rectangle shape in his pocket as a hotel door key.
“Try and keep me away,” he told her hoarsely, his words drawing an uncertain look to her face. He watched as she smoothed it away, lifting her chin and reclaiming the confidence and courage that so intrigued him when he first met her. He had never seen a woman as willing to make her own way as this one seemed determined to do.
She walked away, slim hips swaying as her leather-clad thighs brushed and rubbed against each other, the sound of the soft caress of leather fading slowly into the night. Her departure was noted by a half-dozen men standing around, who, with various expressions of relief and disbelief, looked from him to her then back again. He pulled the room key out and flashed it at Hoss, one of the men from Fort Wayne, and the Rebel member gave him a brilliant grin accompanied by a thumbs-up. The rest of th
e men spread out behind her, not pursuing but escorting, ensuring she was safe as she made her way over to the bike.
Jase watched as she paused and spoke to dozens of people on her way, watching greedily as she greeted each with a smile and a touch, settling into a hug or rising on her toes to kiss a cheek. He would have liked to be able to walk beside her, shown them all she was with him, that she wasn’t walking away from him. It wasn’t what it looked like. Hoss came over to him, hand out for a forearm grip. “Spencer. You should park in the hotel garage; she’ll put the bike up near the elevator. Maybe you can meet her there, keep her from getting cold feet?” He wasn’t sure he heard correctly at first, but then it dawned on him this tryst had just been officially approved.
“Okay. Will do,” he said, nodding at the big man. He made to release his grip on Hoss’ arm, but the man tightened down painfully, holding on and staring Jase in the face with a hard look.
“Do not fuck her over,” he growled, scowling. “She deserves to be treated like a lady, deserves to see sweet coming her way. Do not fuck her over, man.”
“No way,” Jase was quick to respond, shaking his head. “No way, Hoss. She’s something special.” Hoss tightened his grip again, nodding before finally releasing his hold. Jase looked up to see Birdy watching them, a guarded look on his face. He nodded at the biker and Hoss twisted to see who he was interacting with, then frowned as he turned back to Jase.
“He’s not one you wanna piss off. Might want to walk softly there.” Clapping a hand on Jase’s shoulder, he said, “Don’t forget she’s ours, man. Treat her right, and there’ll be no problem.” Watching him walk away, he saw Hoss jerk his head at Birdy, and the men faded into the darkness at the edges of the yard.
***
At the hotel, he stood near the elevator, shifting impatiently from foot to foot. Why isn’t she here yet? Remembering what happened to her husband, he had a sudden, near paralyzing fear that something had occurred along the way. Then he heard a muted roar quickly increasing in volume, and recognized it as the sound of bikes approaching. Bikes, plural…as in more than one. He frowned and then caught his breath as DeeDee rode into view around a corner of the parking garage. She sat the big bike with confidence and skill, hands and feet working in coordination to control the machine. God, she looks amazing, he thought.
She pulled in near him, walking the idling bike backwards into a parking space before she put down the kickstand and killed the engine. Three other bikes pulled up, but only one moved to park beside her. A couple rode that one, and the women hugged tightly before separating, promises of dinner passing between them. Standing beside the bike, DeeDee turned to him with a quizzical look. He said, “Hey. Hi. Thought we could walk up together.” Feeling unexpectedly insecure, he stood there looking at her, watching as she retrieved a small bag from the bike, cinching the saddlebags tightly closed.
The other bikers offered him the signature chin lift so many used in place of a verbal greeting, and then took off, pipes roaring as they headed to the exit. He found the sudden stillness in their absence as startling as the initial noise had been. She was quiet as he reached to push the button for the elevator, then silent for their solitary ride to the seventh floor. The door of her room opened into a plush suite complete with a living area and a separate bedroom and bath. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, thumbs in his pockets, looking around. “Nice digs, DeeDee,” he said.
She dropped her jacket in a chair and carried her small bag into the bedroom, beginning to unnerve him with her silence. She had held his hand in the elevator, had readily submitted to his arm around her shoulders, but hadn’t spoken to him since giving him the room information at the party. Was she regretting the invitation? What if she was too tired, but was being polite and not turning him out? He eyed the big bed, deciding he would be okay if that were the case, as long as he got to spoon with her. Hold her. Soak up how good she felt in his arms.
As she came out of the bedroom in a t-shirt and jeans, he saw she had removed her boots, socks, and leather chaps. Her bare feet were slim and petite, and her toenails were painted a shocking green. For some reason, the color made him laugh aloud and she looked up, asking, “What?” as she walked across the room to him. Slipping her arms around his waist, she leaned into his embrace and took a deep breath as they touched. I think she wants this after all, he thought.
The cuddle helped him begin to relax, and now that his hands were back on her, he was more confident. “Love the pedi,” he quipped, dipping his head down for a kiss. It was good…sensual, soft, and slow, her mouth moving under his, but she ended it too quickly and tucked her head underneath his chin, cheek resting on his chest.
“My daughter did it,” she said quietly, amusement evident in her voice. “She liked the color and wanted to try it, but not on her own nails.”
“Did she?” He didn’t care, but now that she started, he wanted to keep her talking.
“Did she what?” She tilted her head up, meeting his eyes with her question.
“Did she like the color?” He traced her cheek with the tip of his nose, drawing her earlobe between his lips and nipping softly at it then pulling back to study her face.
She drew in a sigh, her lips tipping up into a smile. “Yeah, she liked it.”
“Do you like this?” he asked, leaning in to nibble her earlobe again.
Her head moved and nodded as she said, “Yeah, I like this a lot.”
“Mmmm,” he hummed against the side of her head. “I like it a lot, too.” He drew his nose along her jaw, softly kissing the side of her neck. “How about this? Do you like this?”
“Yeah, I like that, too.” This was murmured into his shirt as her neck arched towards him, which had the effect of keeping her lips from his. That wasn’t going to work for him, and he nibbled down and across her collarbone, whispering, “I want your lips.”
She was turning her head when his phone rang and he groaned, recognizing the ringtone. It was Nathan deWalt, the team’s manager. He pulled back, digging the phone out as he told her, “I gotta get this, hon. Gimme a minute.”
“Yeah?” he answered, not bothering to disguise his irritation.
“One word, Spencer. Bus. I got two no-shows: you and Daniel. You want to play tomorrow? You want ice time?” Nate didn’t bother with pleasantries. He knew Jase well enough to skip to what he needed to know.
“Shit, what time are you pulling out?” He rubbed his forehead between finger and thumb, feeling the beginnings of a headache. In his pursuit this evening, he had forgotten the team was heading down to Fort Wayne tonight to be rested for the game tomorrow. Looking up as DeeDee walked out of the room, he frowned. Why did she leave?
“We hit the Skyway ten minutes ago. I have your gear. If I trust you to drive down, will you actually show?” Nate spoke to someone in the background. “Hang on, I’ve got Daniel.” There was silence for a minute and then the line crackled. “Daniel said to meet him at Mica’s at nine in the morning, sharp. He’ll drive you both down.”
“Okay, Nate. It sounds like a solution to me. Enjoy the bus trip, old man. See you tomorrow.” Jase grinned. He wasn’t sad to be free of the sardine can that was the team bus, especially the night before a playoff game. The scent of anxiety would be almost as thick as the stench of sweat-soaked hockey equipment in the vehicle. He hung up and tossed the phone onto the countertop behind him, stalking through the suite until he found DeeDee standing in the bathroom. She was staring into the mirror, and he wasn’t sure she noticed him until he pressed up behind her.
“That was the team manager; they’re on their way to your town, because we are playing in Fort Wayne tomorrow night,” he told her, kissing the side of her neck. “Any chance of you coming to the game? I can get you tickets to the team box, or seats on the glass if you’d rather sit there.”
She shook her head. “I’ll be here in Chicago for three nights. That’s what I was told.”
He frowned at her. “You don’t get a say in
it? Can’t go back early if you wanted to?”
“There’s a reason for the request,” she assured him. “I simply don’t know everything yet. Is this your last game of the season? I’ve seen your team play a few times this year, when you guys came to the Fort to play the Tridents.”
She likes hockey? He hadn’t known that and now looked at her thoughtfully, saying, “Hopefully not the last game. If we keep winning, we keep going in the playoffs. You came to some of the games? Who’d you root for?”
She turned in his arms and tilted her head, grinning at him. “Sorry, handsome, I’m a hometown gal. Tridents got the cheers.”
He leaned into the small space separating them and slid his hands around her hips to her lower back. Pulling her tightly against him, he buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent. “You think I’m handsome? Will I get to hear you cheer for me sometime?”
“Do you need to leave soon?” She dodged his questions and asked her own, even as she tilted her head, giving him greater access for the soft kisses he was pressing to her skin.
“Not until the morning,” he murmured against her. “I’ll set an alarm so I’m up in time to head back to Mica’s by nine; Daniel’s going to drive us down. But right now, I’m with you, absolutely not going anywhere.”
She hummed, turning her head to kiss him softly. Lips only, the contact between them was soft and gentle, tender and sensual. He shifted, guiding her backwards to the bedroom. “I’m with you. I’ve thought about you so much…so often, DeeDee. I was glad to see you at the party tonight.”
Standing beside the bed, her hands went to his waist, fingers working to unfasten his jeans, her quiet demands quickly removing his clothing. Smiling, he reached out and disassembled her outfit as well, swiftly discarding her shirt and bra before the sight of his hands on her breasts distracted him.
His broad, tanned hands covered the pale skin, rough fingertips teasing her nipples into rosy peaks before he cupped and lifted one to his mouth. Working the hard bud with lips and teeth, he soothed the sting of gentle bites with soft sucking and flicks of his tongue. He asked, “You like that?” Her quiet sighs encouraged him and her hands played in his hair, fingers threading and stroking through again and again, touching and tracing the sides of his face, over his cheekbones and up into his hair.
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