Burned_Viking Bastards MC

by Christina Phillips

  “Mmm.” She stretches like a cat, rolling her shoulders and pressing herself more securely into my hand and against my rock-hard dick. “Nice.”

  “I’ll give you nice.” I nip her neck, and she squeaks in shock. “I’m horny as hell here. What you gonna do about it?”

  She wriggles around so we’re facing each other. Her eyes are smudged with makeup, her lips are bruised from my rough kisses, and a hot surge of possessiveness grips me. Back the fuck down.

  “Nothing. I need to use the bathroom.”

  “I can work with that.”

  “One track mind.” She sits up and pushes her hair back before hiking the sheet over her shoulders and straddling me. I grin up at her, since she’s obviously making as much effort as possible to drive me out of my mind.

  “Enjoying yourself, getting off on me?”

  “You wish.” She sways over me, rubbing her nipples across my chest, looking all sleepy and sexy, and it’s all I can manage to keep my hands to myself. “I’m just trying to get off the bed without kneeing you in the nuts.”

  “Sure, you are.” I give in and grasp her thighs beneath the sheet. “If I hear the shower, I’m coming in.”

  “You can come in, but you’re not getting anything. Not until we’ve bought some more condoms.”

  I cup her ass, and she lets out a breathy sigh. It’s getting hard to think straight, but one thing’s clear. “You can go down on me in the shower. Don’t need anything for that.”

  Her lips brush mine in a barely there kiss. “Back in the day, maybe. But not now.”

  I grunt, irrationally pissed that she had to remind me of what we once had and don’t anymore. “You can jack me off, then.”

  She sits up, obviously trying not to laugh, and the sheet slides down her back. “Yes, I could. Or we could get some breakfast and come back to—” She stops mid-sentence and blinks as though something’s distracted her.

  My gaze drifts down her naked body. What the fuck was I thinking, turning up last night with only four fucking rubbers? I could never get enough of Jas in the past. Nothing’s changed, and I was an asshole to think four times would be enough for either of us.

  It’s not funny, but a smile twists my lips regardless. With any other chick, twice is more than enough.

  “You didn’t get rid of it.” There’s an odd catch in her voice that manages to tear my attention from the tantalizing glimpse of her pussy.

  “Didn’t get rid of what?”

  The tip of her finger traces along my bicep. There’s a strange expression on her face, like she’s about to cry. Don’t cry, babe… “My star sign.”

  “Why would I get rid of it?” It never crossed my mind. In some masochistic way, I liked seeing it every time I looked in a mirror. It served as a reminder to never let another chick worm her way under my skin.

  Worked damn well, too.

  “I don’t know. I just thought…” Her voice trails away, and she traces the outline of the tat I had done to celebrate our one year’s anniversary. That, and the fact I’d been under the delusion we’d last forever.

  “What? You thought I’d want to fuck up my arm just to get rid of some ink?”

  She gives me a small smile and gently trails her fingers along my jaw. It’s a tender gesture, so similar to the way she used to touch me that something sharp clenches deep in my chest.

  Fuck that shit.

  “Thought you needed the bathroom?” I wrap my hand around her wrist and forcibly remove her hand from my face before I do something I’ll regret. Like kiss her as though I mean it, as though it’s not all about the damn sex after all.

  “Yes.” But she still doesn’t move. Then she leans down and kisses me, a soft, sweet kiss that shouldn’t feel half as good as it does, considering the no-sex clause in effect.

  I watch her leave the bed and feast on the sight of her naked back and gorgeous ass before she wraps herself in an ankle-length robe. At the door, she pauses and glances back at me, the faintest trace of a smile on her lips.

  “I’m glad we bumped into each other yesterday. It’s helped…a lot.”

  And then she shuts the door behind her.

  …

  I’m on my third coffee by the time she saunters into the kitchen, dressed in faded jeans and a T-shirt with her hair still damp from her shower. It went against everything I wanted to leave her bed and pull on my jeans without even jacking off, but to hell with that. I can live with a hard-on for a few hours before a willing chick at the club takes the edge off. Better that than have Jas know how easily she can still lead me by the dick.

  “I thought you were going to join me in the shower.” She pours a coffee, and I shift my ass along the counter to give her more room, but not so much that I can’t inhale the addictive scent of her perfume.

  It’s helped…a lot.

  I don’t even know what she means by that. Hell, I don’t even know why I give a damn as to what she means. It doesn’t fucking matter. I need to get away from her so I can think straight again.

  “No point if we couldn’t fuck.” Not true. Not that I’m telling her that.

  Her smile fades, and I feel like a total prick. She takes a sip of coffee, and I finish mine, and it’s like we’re two strangers again.

  She clears her throat. “So, what’re your plans for today? Anything exciting?” Her gaze lingers on my naked chest before slowly traveling down my torso. Generally, I like it when hot girls check me out, but this time something just feels…off.

  It doesn’t help when it’s obvious she notices my erection.

  “Work. You got a better offer for me?” Jesus Christ, could I sound more desperate to spend more time with her?

  “I don’t know.” She looks me in the eyes again, and there’s a blush on her cheeks that slays me. “I’m leaving on Friday. We could see each other a couple of times again before then.”

  She sounds so casual, as though my answer doesn’t matter to her one way or the other. I shouldn’t care, but it stings.

  Just say no. How fucking hard is that? She’s not the only girl on the damn planet.

  “I’d have to check my diary.” I’m not a fucking pushover. Except, when it comes to Jas, I obviously am.

  “Of course.” Her response is smooth as silk, but she wasn’t fast enough to hide the flicker of surprise at my reply. “I’m quite flexible, so just let me know.”

  This conversation is the craziest I’ve ever had. And while I’m still chewed up over the whole thing, a part of me is laughing inside.

  “Flexibility is good.”

  “I’ve always found it helpful,” she says without missing a beat. “So, do I need to clear any dates with your P.A.?”

  “We can work this out between ourselves.” Have I just agreed to see her again? Did I ever doubt I would? “A couple of times? What if I want more?”

  Fucking kill me now.

  “Every night is good for me.”

  It’s a bad idea. I know it, but it’s just too damn tempting to pass up. “You’re offering me a week of no-strings-attached sex?”

  “Only if you’re offering me the same.”

  Only for a week. That’ll be plenty long enough to get her fully out of my system.

  One night was supposed to be enough.

  I need to get this back on track, on my terms. Let her know I won’t change my life for one week with her. “I’m not exclusive.” Not anymore. Been there, still got the scars.

  “I wouldn’t expect you to be.” She still has a small smile on her face but there’s a faint touch of ice in her voice, as though my comment rankled. “I’m not looking for a relationship. Just closure.”

  It’s like she sucker punches me. Closure. What else did I expect her to say? What the fuck else is there to say? That’s all I want, as well.

  I guess a part of me wanted to hear her say it. I want more. Don’t know why. It won’t change anything. But how would I respond?

  I don’t know. I can’t deal with this. Move on.

/>   “Okay. You want to shake on it?”

  “Sure.” She offers her hand, and there’s no trace of ice in her voice anymore. “Same time tonight?”

  I’m not used to women calling the shots. Even when Jas and I were together, it was always me who made all the decisions. But since I can’t find any fault in her suggestion, I shrug.

  “Sounds good.” I stroll from the room, aware she’s watching me, and when I’m back in her bedroom I lean against the wall and close my eyes. What the hell am I doing?

  Chapter Six

  Ty

  It’s late afternoon when Zach turns up at the Hammer. Although I haven’t finished work, I shut down the laptop as he prowls the length of my office, looking as though he wants to smash his fist through the walls. While we’ve trashed plenty of rooms in the past, I draw the line when it comes to my club.

  “Trouble?”

  He stops pacing, grabs a chair, and straddles it. “This dating shit’s hard work.”

  I smirk—can’t help myself. “You’re not dating, man. You’re pussy-whipped, and you love it.”

  “Fuck you.” He gives me the finger. “Say that again, and I’ll break your neck.”

  “I don’t need to say it. You’re getting married, for chrissakes. In a fucking cathedral.”

  “It’s not a cathedral.” He grinds the words between his teeth. “And that’s not the problem.”

  “Are you going to tell me the problem, or do you just want to go out and get wasted?” Except I’m not that invested in going out tonight and getting slammed. Not when Jas is waiting for me.

  She’s not been back in my life for a day, and already I’d rather be with her than one of my brothers. It’s because she’s here for only a week. It’d be different if there wasn’t an end date on this crazy sex-only deal we made.

  I need to get some more condoms.

  “It’s about tomorrow night.” Zach digs his fingers through his hair, frustration clear on his face, and I force myself to concentrate. Brothers first, last, and always. Ten years ago, I forgot that rule, and look where it got me. “Grace convinced herself I’m running guns or some shit.”

  That gets my full attention. “Why would she think that?”

  “I told her we were doing a protection run for Hawk, and she freaked. I had to explain we’re helping out his cousin. Guess I told her more than I intended.”

  I don’t answer right away. Before Zach met Grace, it would never have occurred to him to tell a chick about anything he did for another brother. But Grace isn’t some random chick. And that’s the answer.

  “She’s your old lady. Whatever you tell her is your responsibility.”

  “She thinks it’s dangerous. Wanted to know why we couldn’t let the cops sort it out.”

  “She didn’t grow up in the life. She doesn’t have a clue. You need to work out how to deal with that.”

  Not like Jas. She knew what went down. Hell, she knew far more than anyone would’ve guessed. I won’t tell Zach he should keep his mouth shut, when I used to tell Jas everything.

  Sure, I wasn’t a full member of the Bastards back then. But I was a prospect for our last year together, and if anyone had guessed how much I spilled my guts to her, they would’ve given me hell, no matter whose son I was.

  It still wouldn’t have matched the shit that went down when I finally confronted my family about the way they treated her. Told them she was mine and if they didn’t shut the fuck up about her, I’d walk.

  It was no idle threat. I’d had it with the side-eyes every time Jas walked in a room. If they wanted me, they had to accept her.

  Don’t think about it.

  Zach grunts and some of his tension eases. “You going to Odin’s tonight?”

  I generally visit Odin’s, the bar Zach’s brother owns, for a couple of hours on a Saturday night before ending up at the Hammer to make sure none of the patrons ever forget who owns the place. Damn. Didn’t realize until now what a rut I’ve gotten into. Maybe I’ll shake things up and take Jas to the bar instead.

  “Sure.” I shove the image aside. The only place I’m ever taking her is in her apartment. “You?”

  He cracks a grin. “Yeah. With my old lady.”

  …

  Jasmine

  I stare at Mom’s bedroom door. It’s the only room I haven’t been in yet. Stupid. It should’ve been the first room I cleared out, but I couldn’t screw up the nerve to confront the ghosts.

  Not just of Mom. She’s everywhere I look.

  Of Viper. When he strolled into the apartment as though he owned it and then dragged me in there.

  Of what happened in that room later that same night.

  I exhale a measured breath and wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans. The room needs to be stripped and, since I refused my dad’s offer to fly over with me so he could help with everything, it sure as hell won’t get done if I keep avoiding it.

  The door swings open. No nebulous specter reaches for my throat, and dust motes dance in the shards of sunlight that spill between the half-closed drapes.

  Such a sad, faded room. Or maybe it’s just me seeing it through jaded eyes. Mom always seemed happy enough with her choices. I square my shoulders and march in, refusing to hear the echoes of the past that try and claim me.

  …

  It’s gone eleven, almost the same time Ty turned up last night. I take a deep breath to try and control the butterflies in my stomach, but it just makes me lightheaded. Honestly, it’s crazy to be so excited about seeing him again, but whatever. After the day I had, I’ve been looking forward to tonight far more than I should.

  After hours gutting Mom’s room and hauling another dozen boxes that I need to sort through into the living room, I popped out and got some essentials. Mainly beer, although Ty seemed to enjoy the Chianti we had yesterday. Another essential I bought today was a sexy satin and lace babydoll in mistletoe green. A crazy extravagance, but I love the feel of it next to my skin, and I can’t wait to see his face when I drop my boring, ankle-length bathrobe. I’ve never bought myself expensive lingerie before, but I could definitely get used to it.

  With anyone other than Ty?

  My mood deflates, and I pour myself a second glass of wine. I’m not going to think about the end of the week, or the fact that after Friday I’ll never see him again. A week might not be long enough for me to get over him, but it’s long enough to bury the past for good, and that can only be a good thing. Even after just one night together the anger in him has faded. All I want is for us to say goodbye as friends this time around.

  If I keep telling myself that, I might even start to believe it.

  …

  I wake with a start, the pain in my neck making it impossible to move for a few seconds. It’s dark, and I blink, frowning as I try and figure out why I’m curled up on the couch.

  Alone.

  I squint at my cell. Three a.m. Obviously, he decided to stand me up. It’s stupid to be hurt, but I am, and I grip my cell until my fingers ache, but it doesn’t ease the disappointment that he isn’t here, and I can’t even call him as I don’t have his number.

  Right. And he doesn’t have mine, so if an emergency came up, there’s no way he could’ve contacted me. It’s perfectly reasonable and makes complete sense, and I don’t damn well believe it.

  He just didn’t like the way I took the initiative this morning. I always used to defer to him, and he always loved being in charge. If this is his way of asserting his fucking male privilege, then he can shove it.

  I suck in a deep breath. Calm the hell down. The main—the only—question is if he turns up here again, am I going to let him in or tell him to fuck off?

  Even though I already know the answer, I pretend to think about the pros and cons. But who am I trying to impress? I’ll let him in. And I won’t let him know he managed to upset me. For God’s sake, it’s pathetic he still has the power to upset me, so I sure as hell won’t announce that fact.

  We’re not dating, and if
he’s spending the night with another woman, then it’s only what he virtually told me he’d do. I can handle it, and when we see each other again, I certainly won’t ask him what he was doing tonight.

  If we see each other again.

  …

  A distant banging thumps through my head, and I force open one eye and check the time. It’s almost seven, which means I’ve overslept, but the banging continues, which means it’s not part of my fractured dreams.

  I stumble out of my bedroom and pull on my robe. There’s only one person I can think would be at the door at this time in the morning, and I’ve no idea how I’m supposed to greet him. With a smile? Or a smack around the head?

  I groan and rest my forehead against the front door as I try and wake up and sort out my thoughts.

  Stay cool, calm, and collected. Another essential I bought yesterday was an embarrassingly large supply of condoms, and I might as well get my money’s worth. Any other time that’d make me grin, but I have the horrible vision of Ty screwing another woman last night, and no matter how adult I intend to be about the situation, the image turns my stomach. Yes, I agreed to his terms, even though I didn’t like it, but the truth is I never thought he’d actually do it, not when we had less than a week together.

  Before I unhook the security chain, I peek through the spyhole just to be on the safe side. He has his back to me as though he’s on the point of leaving, so I tighten the belt of my bathrobe and open the door.

  He turns, and anything I might’ve said locks in my throat as I stare at the takeaway breakfast in his hands.

  “Morning.” He gives me a grin as though this is completely normal, and I shuffle back so he can come inside. “Hot chocolate and a bacon and egg roll.” He hands me the cup and paper bag, and there’s a burning sensation in my chest that threatens to overwhelm me.

  I clear my throat and kick the door shut. “Thanks.” My voice is croaky, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he strolls into the living room and makes himself at home on the couch. And because I can’t think of anything else to say right then, I take a quick sip of the hot chocolate.

  The sugar hits me, and I can’t help the wince, but I swallow and manage a game smile.