by Lexy Timms
“I’ll please you, baby. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
As though his hands dominating her core weren’t enough, he sucked a nipple into his mouth, hard and without mercy.
The taste and scent of him filled her senses, and what he was doing to her body overwhelmed her. With a sharp gasp she burst apart, bucking against his hand, fire spreading through her, pleasure firing through every nerve ending she had. “Saks!”
He didn’t stop his assault until her body slumped against his.
Her ragged breathing was the first thing she noticed when she was able to think again. Chrissy was plastered against Saks, unable to move. Not wanting to move. No man had ever so thoroughly stolen her senses from her. She liked it. She liked being in this back yard of the bar, the chance of being caught, the smell of beer and leather. It all felt incredible. Damn the stupid Rocco she was supposed to meet. She didn’t give a shit at this moment. Saks could do things to her all night.
He commanded her body like she was the instrument he was meant to play, a virtuoso with his mouth and fingers, a god of desire. If he asked it, she would lay on the hood of her car and let him take her then and there, in a public place, regardless of who might watch.
Then reality settled in as her breathing slowed. She was in a public place, her family nearby, the man she was supposed to meet somewhere in the buildling and... she straightened and pulled her skirt down, then fixed her top.
“What’re you doing,” he asked huskily.
Chrissy was damned. She would go to hell and roast. She deserved it. Shamelessly, she was leading this man on, this incredible, delicious man, for her own selfish pleasure. While, right now, inside the Red Bull, the man her family wanted her to marry waited for her.
Yet, with whatever neurons that were left whole in her brain, the thought flashed through her that if Saks asked her to leave with him to go to his apartment, she’d do it. Not just because she didn’t want Saks to see the man waiting for her. That would be a disaster, especially since Saks acted crazy over Gloria’s boyfriend. No. Because of the electric spark that shot through her when he took her hand. Her body followed him willingly out of the bar when her brain said it was the most stupid idea ever. It was if his touch lit up every cell of her body, awakening her to possibilities that did not exist before she met him.
Like indescribable pleasure.
Saks caressed her upper arms, and she moaned as fire spread all through her again. How could he do this? Why did this man, someone she barely knew, and one so different from all the men she’d met, make her want to give everything she had without question?
“Oh, baby,” he murmured. “You are so hot. And tasty. I want to lick you from your neck to the tips of your toes, and then go back up your delicious body.”
Chrissy swallowed hard. She mustn’t do this. Getting involved with Saks was absolutely the wrong thing to do. Whether she would marry this man her family picked out or not, the repercussions for Saks were huge. They were possibly life-threatening.
One did not mess with the Serafina family.
“Whoa, hold up there,” she said, pulling herself away.
“What?” Confusion washed over his handsome face, and Chrissy bit her lip.
“I’m so sorry. But this...this is a bad idea.”
“I don’t care,” Saks said. “It doesn’t seem like a bad idea to me. Give me your car keys.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
“Look, Mr. Anthony Parks, this isn’t going to be a thing.”
“What isn’t?” he said, a teasing smile on his lips.
“You and me. Meeting up in a bar and running off to your apartment.”
“We seem like a good thing. You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever met and, yeah, if I can get you into my bed, I will.”
“Let me go,” she said, straining against his strong arms. But he wouldn’t release her. Instead, he gave her that damnable smirk, as if he knew every racy thought she had about him.
“Chrissy?” a masculine voice called. Damn. Marcus.
“Saks, you’ve got to let me go,” she whispered, panicking.
“Why? So, you can go running to big, tall, and dimwitted?”
Marcus absolutely would go ape-shit if he found Saks holding Chrissy. Or knew what they’d been doing. If there was one reliable thing about her sister’s boyfriend it was that he loved the enforcing part of his job a little too much. And with the shots Saks took at him in the bar, Marcus would take special delight in pounding Saks into the pavement.
“Chrissy? Are you okay?” Marcus called in the dark. His voice was closer, though she couldn’t see him yet. He was probably coming around the building any minute.
“Come on, Saks. You don’t understand,” Chrissy whispered urgently. “He’ll hurt you.”
“I’d like to see him try.”
“You’re a smug bastard,” she said, despite her paranoia.
“You seem to like it.”
“I. Do. Not. Let me go, you Neanderthal. Before I—”
“You’ll what? Scream?” He wouldn’t let go of her hand. He wasn’t gripping it painfully, but he held it with no intention of letting go. He grinned wickedly. Not the kind of grin to fear, but the kind that said he would love to bring her to the brink of screaming again. “I’ve heard you scream before, baby. And we both know you like it.”
She had to get back to the bar. This was only going to end up a big mess, and someone would get hurt if she stayed with Saks. Most likely him. At the hands of her family. She twisted suddenly in his arms and broke free. As she shifted her weight, she stepped on his foot accidentally...in her stiletto heels. While his thick biker boots protected his feet, she wasn’t as lucky and she stumbled. Her knee flew up to try to catch herself. It plowed into him, right in the family jewels. She caught herself as her leg came down. Saks wasn’t as lucky.
“Fuck,” he cursed. Pain punctuated his words, and he stumbled back.
“Chrissy!” Marcus rumbled. He was now just a few feet from them. “You okay?”
Saks bent over, trying to recover from the shock of Chrissy’s accidental shot to his groin.
“I’m fine,” she said as Marcus came into view. “He’s not.”
Saks shot her an angry glare. “Excuse me, princess,” he said. “Had I known you felt so strongly about the matter, I wouldn’t have bothered.”
“You keep your mouth shut, shithead,” Marcus growled.
Saks straightened, though he winced in pain, and stared at Marcus. They both stood there, though Saks’ shoulders were slightly scrunched. They squared off, taking the measure of the other.
Chrissy was terrified this would turn out to be a serious knocking of heads. A stupid pissing contest.
“Saks,” another voice said.
Chrissy watched another person emerge from the darkness, a man who had stood with Saks in the bar.
“How you doin’, buddy?” the man asked. He wore a leather jacket like Saks, only his name patch said ‘Spade’.
“Okay, Luke. Just saying goodbye to the lady here.” Saks tipped an imaginary hat. “Good night to you, princess.”
Saks limped away, and Chrissy heard Luke say, “Let me help you back to the bar.”
Marcus and Chrissy slowly followed behind.
Gloria trotted up to her the minute she spotted them. “What happened? How’d it go with tall, dark, and handsome?”
“You mean Saks? Awful.” Chrissy could feel the burn spreading across her face and down her neck. Did her hair look mussed and her lips look kissed? What had she been thinking? Or not thinking was the better way to look at it.
“Why? What happened?”
“I did something horrible.”
“What,” Gloria broke out laughing. She jabbed in the direction of Saks holding his crotch, “did you do?”
She hadn’t meant to hurt Saks. Marcus stared at both women like they were crazy. “Shut up. I kneed him in the family jewels.”
Gloria fo
und the news even more hilarious, and she shook with laughter. “Now that’s a story to tell the grandchildren.” Gloria broke out into another chorus of hiccupping laughter.
“Gloria!” Chrissy hissed. “It’s not funny. Not one bit.”
“Chrissy—” Marcus started in a warning voice, but Gloria elbowed him.
“Marcus,” Gloria said with a grin, “don’t spoil my fun now. I don’t often get juicy bits like this to use against my big sister.”
Chrissy glared at Gloria. “You’re an evil witch.”
“Hah, hah,” Gloria said, unconcerned with Chrissy’s insult. And Gloria was right. A story like this was bad. Chrissy had no business going off with a man she wasn’t there to meet. That Chrissy accidentally kneed him in the nuts might redeem her in a small manner, but the original offense was damning. Her sister’s enjoyment at having a bit of blackmail to use against her was just one more humiliation in a dreadful situation.
Marcus grabbed Gloria around the shoulders and steered her toward exit. “You go home, Chrissy,” he said over his shoulder. “I don’t know what I’m going to tell the old man. Minga, you fucked things up good.”
Chrissy watched them go. Could this day get any worse?
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
SAKS HUNG BETWEEN LUKE and Spider while his stomach clenched in pain. The beer he’d drunk suddenly didn’t sit well, and he felt like barfing. Luke and Spider hauled him inside through the back entrance.
“What the fuck happened?” Spider growled.
Damn, she got him good.
“You okay, buddy?” Luke said as Saks clenched his stomach and tried to breathe. “She kneed him in the balls.”
“The girl he walked out the door with?” Spider asked in surprise.
“Yeah,” Luke said.
“What did you do to her?” Spider asked accusatorially.
“Nothing!” Saks sucked in a sharp breath. Stupid erection and balls. What the fuck?
“This doesn’t help, Spider,” Luke admonished.
“Take him back to the storeroom. I’ll bring some ice.”
Spider dragged in a chair and they helped Saks to sit. Sheldon brought in a small bag of ice wrapped in a bar towel, and Saks clutched it between his legs.
“I feel sick.”
Sheldon kicked a waste can to him and held out a small bottle of whiskey.
“No, thanks,” Saks said, shaking his head. But he pulled the trash can closer in case the urge became a reality.
“You fucked up good,” Sheldon said. “You left the Rocco woman at the bar to chase after another woman? Nice job, Anthony.”
These harsh words didn’t make Saks feel any better. “Sorry,” he mumbled.
“Hey,” Luke said. “Lay off on Saks.”
“His name,” Sheldon spat, “is Anthony.”
“I know what his name is. I sign his paychecks.”
“Maybe that has to fucking change. It’s not like my cousin is safe in your company.”
“Excuse me?” Luke protested.
“Damn it, Sheldon,” Saks barked, wincing. “Leave him alone.” It irritated him that Sheldon didn’t let last summer’s problems drop. Yeah, the one-percenter motorcycle gang, the Rojos, kidnapped Saks to get to Luke, but that wasn’t Luke’s fault. And in the end, it was Luke who pulled him out of that hellish situation.
“You didn’t have to clean him up after that mess with you and the Rojos, Wade. Or explain his injuries to his mother.”
“Zitto, cugino. Luca non è il problema qui.” Saks rarely spoke Italian, but he wanted to make an impression on Sheldon. This, what was happening, was Saks’ fuck up, not Luke’s.
“Capisco che, stupido.”
Good. At least Sheldon was insulting him instead of Luke.
Luke’s wife, Emily, stuck her head inside the storeroom. “What happened here?” she said, her eyes wide.
“Em, go wait at the table, please. I’ll be right there.”
“Sure,” she said. “You okay, Saks?”
He waved his bag of ice. “I’m fine. My pride more than anything tonight, Em.”
“It’ll pass.” She smiled, and winked at him before disappearing behind the door.
“You okay then?” Luke asked. “Do you need anything?”
“No. The pain is settling down to a dull roar.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. I’ll let my abusive relatives take care of me if I need it.”
“Call me if you need anything. I’m taking Emily home.”
“Sure, Luke. See you on Monday.”
Luke walked out while Sheldon glared at him.
“Good thing,” Saks said when Luke cleared the hall, “that I’m incapacitated, or I’d twist your head off. What the hell was that, insulting Luke?”
“Try it, Anthony. You haven’t been able to beat the shit out of me. Ever. And I’m not saying anything the family hasn’t been saying, especially since last summer. Damn it, Anthony. The man, his uncle, the whole Hades’ Spawn thing is ready to blow up. You don’t need to be in the middle of it.”
“I’m not discussing it.”
“Oh, no. Why do you think Uncle Vits wants you to be the one to marry the Serafina girl?”
Saks scoffed, which sent a shiver of pain through him. “Well, she isn’t my type. It’s not happening.”
Sheldon stepped to Saks and lowered his face so that he was nose to nose with his cousin. “You listen to me, che cazzo, the familia is not going to put up with any more shit from the Spawn and Wade’s Mexican uncle. One more piece of trouble and we’re taking care of them, all of them. We’ve got too much to lose to let those stupidios call attention to us. Do you get it? And you damn well better get right about the idea of marrying into the Serafina family. Because that’s another bit of business we can’t afford to screw up.”
Saks stood up, wincing with the tinge of pain. But he could move, and he intended to. “I’m not a playing piece on the board, Sheldon. I did this as a courtesy to Uncle Vits, but no one is going to make me marry anyone I don’t want to. And so far, from what I’ve seen, I don’t want to. And if anyone tries for a piece of Luke or the Spawn, they’ll have to go through me.” He grunted as he moved to the door.
“Where are you going?”
“None of your fucking business.” Saks pushed his way to the back of the bar and took the back entrance out to the parking lot. He made it to his bike with only a few twinges of sharp pain, but it didn’t mean the ride home was going to be fun. He usually enjoyed night riding, but this was not going to be one of those nights. Saks pulled a reflective vest from his saddlebag. He didn’t like to wear it, but the lighting on the roads wasn’t the best, and he wasn’t feeling up to dodge cages on the road that didn’t see him.
The rumbling of the engine between his legs didn’t help matters either and by the time he made it to his apartment, he had to limp to his door. He collapsed on his bed and threw his arm over his eyes. What a fucking night!
He had to give her credit. That Chrissy sure could kick. His balls still throbbed uncomfortably, and a ghost of stomach pain fluttered through his abused stomach muscles. It wasn’t all Chrissy, though. The motorcycle ride to his apartment made things worse, just like he’d made the situation worse for his family.
Fuck! How did he screw that up so thoroughly? Not that he regretted a single stolen moment with Chrissy. That woman was so fine that he’d do it all over if he could get close to her again. Okay, maybe not get kneed in the nuts, but close. He liked that spitfire nature she hid under her calm and collected pricey clothes, makeup, and hair.
But his family wasn’t happy with him. He didn’t make the connection with the Serafina woman he was supposed to. The next conversation with Uncle Vits wouldn’t be a good one, especially when he had to tell Vits there was no way he was going to marry the woman.
There could be no other choice. Images of Chrissy burned through his body, and every stray thought turned to her. He’d never had it this bad before, and he suspected he
never would again.
Shit. Did he love her? He couldn’t. He didn’t know enough about her, hadn’t had enough time with her to be properly in love. But, he admitted, he was seriously in lust with his golden-haired goddess, even if she pushed him away.
Nope. He wasn’t going to give up on Chrissy. Even if she hung out with tall, dark, and stupid. Saks would kiss thoughts of that dimwit right out of her brain. And with thoughts of her his cock stirred, but that didn’t help the ache in his balls. With a grunt, he rolled off the bed and limped to his fridge. A half tray of ice sat in his freezer. It would have to do. As he was tossing the cubes into a plastic bag, his doorbell rang.
Chrissy? He hurried across the living room and looked through the peep hole, but it was too dark. He put the chain across the door. “Girl, you got a—”
“Open up, pendajo. It’s me, Pez.”
Saks froze, pissed it wasn’t who he thought it was. “Why the hell should I do that, man? You fucking kidnapped me.”
“I’ve got news for your boy, Wizard.”
What the hell? Then Saks remembered that Pez had hung the name ‘Wizard’ on Luke, which caused all kinds of trouble with the Spawn. Pez made it seem that Luke was defecting to the Rojos by hanging a club name on him.
“He ain’t called Wizard. It’s Spade if you’re going to use a club name.”
“Yeah, yeah, pendajo.”
“And I don’t appreciate being called an asshole, either. Now get the hell out of here. It’s late. And you’re supposed to stay away from the Spawn.”
“Correction, cabron. I’m to stay away from Luke and his lovely bride. That’s the court order. But you didn’t get a protective order, so here I am.”
Saks pushed the slightly open door to shut it, but Pez stuck the tip of his boot inside the door.
“Look,” Pez said. “I’m just warning you that the feds are about to bust your boy’s bike shop.”
“Why? Luke hasn’t done shit.”
“You know that, and I know that, cabron. But the feds seem to think the Spawn stink to high heaven.”
“And who would’ve given them that impression?” Saks asked sarcastically.