by Joanna Wylde
“I’ve got room,” said a tall, lanky guy with dark hair and tattoos up and around his neck. I smiled at him, figuring I’d take him up on the offer, but Taz dropped his arm across my shoulders again.
“She’s with me,” he said. Em and Kit exchanged looks, and Jessica managed to hide her disappointment, running a hand up and along Mr. Tattoo’s shoulder.
“I’d love to ride with you,” she said, turning on the full charm. It was almost creepy, how quickly she dropped the good-girl facade. I’d forgotten how fast she worked.
Jess might be older and smarter, but she was still Jess.
It only took about five minutes to reach the fairgrounds, although it was enough time for me to establish that Taz had very nice abs. Volunteers on horseback had us park in a big, empty field back behind the horse barns. There were already at least thirty bikes there, guarded by prospects from the Reapers, the Silver Bastards, and the Devil’s Jacks. Taz caught my hand as we walked toward the gate, casually possessive in a way that both thrilled and scared me. Ultimately he wasn’t the guy I wanted, and I didn’t want to lead him on . . . but what kind of woman doesn’t enjoy a hot guy holding her hand in public? Could you be more superficial? Doubtful. Crap. I should probably end this before it turned into anything, I decided. I tugged on his hand.
“Can we talk for a minute?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said, stepping to the side so the others could pass. Jess cocked a brow at me but I ignored her.
“What’s up?” Taz asked. I looked up at him, taking in his nearly perfect features, that sexy hair still pulled back, and the way his eyes all but oozed sex. Had I lost my mind, turning this guy down?
Probably.
“Um . . . I guess there’s no easy way to say this, but I was really drunk last night,” I started. He gave me a gentle smile.
“Picked up on that.”
I felt myself blushing—I should never drink like that again. I knew that compared to some people, it hadn’t been very bad, but I hated feeling so out of control. My dad was always doing stupid shit when he was drunk.
I was better than that . . . at least, I wanted to be better than that. Right after I made it through this trip to the fair.
“So I’m not really looking for a relationship,” I started. Taz’s smile grew wider.
“Works for me. I’m just trying to get laid,” he said bluntly, and while you’d think his words would’ve been offensive, somehow—from him—it just felt like he was shooting straight with me. “And I already know I’m not getting anywhere with you. But your little roommate is hot for it, and it’s driving her crazy that I’m with you. Painter’ll probably be out here later, so you can piss him off by hanging on me. Right about the time he loses his shit and hauls you off, she’ll be ready and willing to comfort me in my sorrow. It’s win-win, really.”
I gaped at him.
“I can’t believe you just told me that,” I said finally. “That’s pretty shameless.”
“Shame isn’t really my thing,” he said, radiating cocky confidence. “Just roll with it, babe. We’ll have a good time, and then you’ll go home with Painter while I nail your roomie.”
I blinked.
“You realize I’m totally going to warn her about you,” I finally managed to say. He smiled, pure sin on a stick. Or would that be sin with a stick? Heh.
“I’m counting on it,” he said. “She likes trouble—I can tell. It’ll turn her on, challenge her. The more you warn her, the easier it’ll be.”
I frowned, trying to decide how that made me feel.
“Let’s go,” he said. “I’m hungry, and Em says the BBQ out here is incredible. I’ll even buy you dinner. Sound good?”
I nodded, still confused. I wasn’t sure how to deal with this, but he was right about one thing . . . fair BBQ was the shit, and damned if I wasn’t hungry.
CHAPTER SIX
PAINTER
The fair sucked.
Taz had shown up with Melanie at his side, and I’d spent the last two hours wandering the exhibit tents, watching them and festering, because he was doing everything he could to fuck with me.
Cockwad.
Whenever she turned away, he’d thrust his hips toward her or pretend to grab her ass. Flick his tongue. Squeeze his dick. Nothing but a damned pervert. Hunter was in on it, too, taunting me quietly whenever he had the chance. My own brothers were fucking useless. Horse just rolled his eyes, and when we finally headed into the BBQ tent for dinner, Ruger pointed out that if I didn’t have the balls to claim her, I should let it go.
God help me, if these fuckers were supposed to be my backup, I’d do better on my own. The night was fucking endless. I could give two shits about rodeo—thought it was decent entertainment, but I wouldn’t be out here if it wasn’t for Melanie. I kept trying to catch her eye, but she wouldn’t look at me. I knew she was aware, though, because she kept blushing. Probably embarrassed about last night. Fair enough . . . But the longer I watched her with Taz, the harder it was to keep my distance.
She deserved a man who was perfect, and that fucker didn’t qualify.
At least the food was good. There were a hundred different places to eat around the fairgrounds, but the BBQ had to be the best. If I needed proof I was fucked in the head, it came when I reached the line. There was a pretty little thing ahead of me who kept bumping into me “accidentally.” I’d be all over that if I weren’t completely focused on Mel, and the fact that Taz couldn’t keep his fucking hands off her.
Ten minutes later I headed toward the long tables set up outside the tent carrying a plate of ribs, potato salad, and corn bread. I found a spot at one end, where Horse sat down next to me, flanked by Marie. Ruger and his old lady, Sophie, sat across from us, leaving plenty of room for the others farther down. Soon Kit, Em, and Hunter joined us, and then Taz and Melanie sat next to them. The girls started laughing and giggling together as Jessica joined them.
She seemed to have hooked up with Hunter’s best friend, Skid. She might not be my favorite, but she deserved better than that fuckwad. Better keep an eye on her. Looking away, I caught Horse checking out Jess and Skid, too. Then he caught my gaze and we shared a wordless conversation—Jess was young. We’d both be looking out for her. Taz stood up.
“Anyone want a drink?” he asked, staring right at me. “The ladies look thirsty—thought maybe I’d buy a round.”
Oh, that asshole. He was trying to get Mel drunk again.
“I’m fine with water,” she insisted, and I bit back a smile. Suck it, cockwad. She’s onto you.
• • •
Dinner lasted way too long. Between Kit’s nonstop mouth and Taz’s little digs, I wasn’t entirely sure I’d make it through. Then everyone scattered to hit the bathrooms after we cleared our plates.
Taz stood next to me—whistling happily—while we took a piss, and that’s when I decided I’d had enough of his shit. As we walked out, I nodded at him to follow me behind the nearest display tent for a private word. Too bad it was the Kootenai County Sheriff’s booth—not an ideal spot to murder a man. Shitty to be me.
“What kind of game are you playing?” I asked him, forcing my tone to stay steady and relaxed.
“Having fun, Brooks? I’m likin’ that Mel girl. She’s got a real nice pussy.” Taz cracked his knuckles thoughtfully. “Later—you know, when I’m fuckin’ her while you’re making sweet love to your hand? I’ll be sure to take a few notes, let you know how it goes.”
A year ago I would’ve taken him down, regardless of the fact that only a canvas wall separated us from six cops. Prison had taught me self-control, though. Puck and I had been almost completely alone down in Cali—we couldn’t afford luxuries like acting on our anger. Not if we wanted to live.
Now I used that hard-won self-control to hold my shit together.
“This ends now,” I told him flatly, refusing to play his game. Taz raised a brow.
“This?”
“Don’t be stupid, you know what I m
ean,” I replied, tired of all the bullshit. “She’s nothing to you, so when she comes back out, she’s with me.”
“How do you figure?”
I smiled slowly, reaching a hand down to touch the survival knife I always kept sheathed on my hip. “You touch her, I’ll gut you here and now, in front of witnesses. You’ll be dead and the peace between our clubs will end—all because you wouldn’t drop a girl you don’t give two shits about. That really how you want this to play out?”
His face sobered.
“You’re bluffing. I know you’re on probation—they’ll send you back to jail, and we’d get you on the inside,” he said slowly. I shrugged, almost hoping he’d call me on it. Not that I wanted to end my life rotting in a cell, but killing this fucker might be worth it.
“Maybe,” I replied, offering him a sweet smile. “Guess there’s really only one way for you to find out.”
“You’d really start a war over this girl?”
I paused, considering. “Yup.”
Taz shook his head slowly, holding up his hands in surrender. “Fuckin’ have her. I’m after her roommate anyway. Just messin’ with you, that’s all.”
I felt my shoulders relax, because I’d actually been ready to do it—I’d have killed him if he touched her again. Jesus.
“You should seek some professional help,” Taz said, sounding almost concerned.
“Like a shrink?” I asked, biting back a laugh. “Yeah, I met one of those on the inside. We didn’t get along all that well.”
“I was thinkin’ a good whore,” he replied, smiling reluctantly. “You do get that a pussy’s a pussy, right? Hot, wet, and tight’s all that matters.”
Fuck. Why’d he have to say that? Now I was thinking about her pussy, which I was 100 percent certain was primo in every way. My phone buzzed. I grabbed it, finding a text from Horse.
HORSE: All good? Everyones back by the food tables
ME: Be there in a sec
I looked at Taz again. “We good?”
He nodded.
“Sure, whatever,” he said. “But seriously—you might want to go ahead and claim that girl. This kind of crazy can get dangerous, you pull it on the wrong guy. Only fair to let the rest of us know exactly where things stand ahead of time.”
I frowned, because I wasn’t ready to do that. I still wanted better for her. Someone nice, who’d work a steady job, maybe take her to Hawaii every other year. Wash her car on Saturday mornings. Unfortunately, every time I tried to picture that guy, he was dead at my feet.
Maybe I did have a complex.
• • •
By the time we reached the group, the rodeo was about to start. While I wasn’t a huge fan, I couldn’t deny there was something about seeing a guy go the full eight seconds on top of one of those big bulls. The rodeo queens weren’t half bad in their tight jeans, either. I walked over toward Melanie, offering her a grim smile.
“Taz is busy,” I told her, blatantly ignoring the fact that Taz was standing less than six feet from us, doing exactly jack shit. “You’re with me the rest of the night.”
She coughed, choking a little, and I gave her back a thump while the rest of the group watched, obviously enjoying our little drama.
“Don’t you have your own lives to entertain you?” I asked, annoyed.
“Nope,” Kit said, eyes wide. “Carry on.”
Fucking devil girl.
Mel glared at her, flipping her off. Damn, that was sexy. Speakers crackled to life on a pole raised high above the fairgrounds.
“Folks, we’ll be starting our rodeo in another fifteen minutes or so. That means now’s the time to grab a drink or a snack and make your way to your seats.”
Everyone turned toward the grandstands, thankfully losing interest in us. Taz was drifting toward Jessica, and I noted that Mel didn’t seem particularly surprised by this development. Interesting. And if Taz hooked up with Jess, that was one less thing to worry about—Taz might be a dick, but he wasn’t a fucking sociopath like Skid was.
We were too late to get really good seats, but there was still plenty of room toward the top of the covered bleachers. Ignoring her frowns, I deliberately herded Mel toward the end, then sat between her and the rest of the group, staring at her ass the entire time.
“I’m grabbing some beer,” Horse announced. “Anyone?”
I nodded, lifting my hips enough to pull out my wallet, which I wore attached to a chain. I pulled out a couple bills and handed them over. Then Horse and Marie started back down the stairs toward the bar, along with Kit, who approached bringing booze to the masses with near religious zeal. That left a sizable gap between us and the rest of the group, which worked just fine for me.
“You know Taz is a player, right?” I told Mel, eyes on the arena where the rodeo queens and princesses rode around in circles, warming up their horses. She blushed, refusing to look at me. Yup, definitely still embarrassed about last night.
“It’s really none of your business . . . but yes, I’m aware,” she whispered. “I’ll admit—I was drunk and stupid out at the Armory, but I’m sober now and normally I’m not a total idiot.”
“I don’t think you’re an idiot,” I said. “I just wanted to warn you.”
“I think I got enough warning last night. I’m only here because Kit dragged me. She’s evil.”
My cock jumped at the memory of that “warning,” and I took a deep breath, reminding myself that jumping a girl in public was probably a parole violation.
“Aren’t you girls supposed to all be in this together?” I asked, pushing through the wave of lust. “And for the record, I think she’s the devil incarnate. Been making my life a living hell for years, little witch.”
Melanie gave a cute giggle, shooting me a shy look from under her eyelashes. “If that’s the case, how did she get you out to the fair?”
I cleared my throat, not wanting to get into details. Damned if I’d admit anything.
“Doesn’t matter,” I said, looking back toward the arena. Where the fuck was Horse with the beer, anyway?
“Hey, I’m really sorry about last night,” Mel said, so quietly I nearly missed it.
“What? No, don’t worry about it,” I told her, wishing I hadn’t come down on her so hard. Fuck, and now I was thinking about coming and going down on her. I’d just been so damned horny and she’d been right there, on her knees in the grass like a thousand fantasies I’d beaten off to in the darkness . . . I’d had to do something to make it end, even if it meant hurting her.
“I was really drunk. I didn’t mean to take advantage of you.”
Fucking hell, I was a douche.
“You didn’t take advantage of me,” I said. “Let’s just drop it. No harm, no foul.”
“Okay,” she whispered. Awkward silence fell between us again. I wanted to ask her about school, about how things were going with Jess and her living together . . . I also wanted to know if she’d kept dating that dickwad she’d written to me about—the one who wanted to get too serious too fast.
The same one I’d told her I thought she should give a shot, because I’m a fucking masochist.
“Beer,” Horse said, handing me two aluminum bottles of Bud. “Enjoy.”
He dropped down next to me, and I glanced over to see Marie snuggling into his side. Christ, but they were cute together. Made me want to vomit. I twisted off a cap and handed the bottle over to Mel. She looked at me, surprised.
“I was super drunk last night,” she reminded me. “I thought you were pissed about that.”
Oh, I’d been pissed, all right. Mostly pissed about Taz touching what belonged to me, except she didn’t belong to me and she never would. I opened my own drink and sucked it down.
“Suit yourself,” I said, shrugging. “I don’t care either way.”
Her face closed up and she looked away. Stop being such a dick, dumbass. I reached over, catching her hand. I’d meant to give her a reassuring little squeeze or some stupid shit. Somehow the
touch of her skin short-circuited my brain, though. She felt warm and soft. I wanted to crawl inside her, and not in the way you think, you fucking pervert.
Okay, so maybe I wanted to do that, too.
“I’m sorry,” I told her, the words soft. “I don’t give a shit either way if you drink the beer, Mel, that’s all I meant. I’m a jackass, but I’m not actively trying to make tonight bad for you.”
She gave me a faint, almost trembling smile as her fingers wrapped around mine, giving a little squeeze, which I swear I felt all the way to my cock.
The loudspeakers crackled to life.
“Please stand for Coeur d’Alene’s own Josina Bradley, who will be singing the national anthem,” the announcer said as riders started pouring into the arena at full gallop, American flags streaming from staffs braced against their stirrups. All around us cowboy hats came off as the troupe of girls on horses—young rodeo queens and princesses—came to a halt in a long line in the center, pinwheeling toward the audience with as much precision as the club did when we rode in a pack.
The music started, and I held Melanie’s hand—friends hold hands, right?—through the whole song, and then through the Canadian national anthem that followed. All around us people were cheering but we stayed quiet. I suppose I could tell you all about how hard it was not to pop a boner in front of everyone or all the different ways I was imagining fucking her. Right here, right now. Under the bleachers. In the bathroom.
In the sheriff’s tent . . . Nice.
It was all true, of course. But that’s not what stands out to me the most. More than anything, I remember standing next to her, holding her hand. Smelling her and knowing that she was safe and perfect and beautiful.
And for tonight, she was all mine.
MELANIE
It felt like a dream, just sitting next to Painter, holding his hand while we watched the rodeo. I was still embarrassed over what’d happened out at the Armory, of course. But his presence seemed to fulfill that strange craving I’d felt from the moment I’d met him—like an aching itch inside me was finally satisfied. (Well, not totally satisfied, but you know what I mean.)