by Jodi Linton
A wolfish grin played on his lips. She stumbled backward, and the edge of the workbench jabbed her in the ass. He laughed, and they exchanged a knowing look. Fuck him. It was not fun having the tables turned on her.
He smiled, pushing the cigarette to the center of his mouth. “Nah, I don’t need a set of extra hands.” He leaned into her closely and squeezed his crotch. “When I get home I’m going to picture you naked and in my bed. The way you’d squeeze me hard and scream to be handled rougher. Fucked like the bad girl I know you are. Give it some thought, Em.” He winked at her and strolled toward the garage door.
She repressed the uneasy feeling taking hold in her stomach from his “bad girl” comment and decided to hit him where it would hurt the most. “I’m sure your uncle would be proud.”
He paused with his hand on the door and stared back as if she’d actually socked him in the gut. Almost like the comment had hurt.
Then he turned and walked away.
At the sound of a purring Harley skidding out of the Sinners’ lot, Em finally allowed herself to relax.
Chapter Five
Out of all the people to have a breakfast date with, drug dealers had to be the scummiest.
Hidden under a nearby pine tree outside the Dirty Sinners’ clubhouse, Cade straddled his motorcycle and watched MC members parting ways as they started to work on various projects. He thought about walking up to them and shooting the bull, using them as cover while he tried to gain access into the office again. But he nixed the idea at the first sight of Em strutting out of her office with another dude sidled up next to her.
He needed a new plan.
When he’d offered to help fix the bike the other day, his intentions hadn’t been honorable. Cade had decided to one-up her vice president with his mechanic knowledge. It had worked until she’d smiled at him. Her smile could make bikers grovel on hands and knees—and he hadn’t been immune. So he gave his cock full control and kissed her. Now as he sat on his motorcycle, he couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d appeared hurt at his smart-ass bedroom comment about picturing her perfect body sprawled out and naked in his bed as he jacked off. Like always, he’d stuck his foot in his mouth at the worst possible moment. Always taking things a bit too far. Roland must’ve had him confused with another undercover cop, because he was having a hard time believing he’d been the best man for the job.
It seemed his goal to find that scrap of paper with Call Abby Harper and some phone number scribbled on it would be taking a backseat, because since he’d parked across the street, Cade had been watching Em and said guy do a drug deal. He shifted on his seat, dying for a quick smoke break. That would be a lot smarter than chasing down the guy and flashing his badge. Em, the woman he wanted to break a ten-month fuck hiatus over, was knowingly distributing cocaine. In light of this news, he shouldn’t be worried about what she thought of him, but he was. Not entirely the response he needed to be having if he planned to wipe his rebel slate clean—the brand he’d acquired after racking up a pretty stellar personnel report inside the HPD for not following protocol—by solving Wes’s murder.
He pinched the cigarette between his forefinger and thumb. Em Connors, Motorcycle Princess, might turn out to be more of a problem than originally planned. He couldn’t shake the feeling that she carried secrets—some dark and dangerous truths—that held the potential to take everyone, including him, down in flames. Hell, his sexual frustration was getting the best of him. After a quick adjustment, he plopped the cigarette in his mouth again and kick-started the motorcycle.
It was time to play his ace. No more fucking heart-to-hearts. He had to keep his guard up and concentrate on the case. Shake this insatiable desire to know Em as more than a person of interest. He could feel it in his gut that she was withholding information on his partner’s murder. Yet everything she’d done up to this point contradicted the image Roland had painted of her.
Who’s the sucker now? Don’t let the taste of Em Connors pull a fast one on you. It was just a kiss.
Burning rubber on a turn, Cade coasted the bike onto club property and let the engine idle. He really had to appreciate the stunned look on the pretty Sinners president’s face. Goddamn she was gorgeous.
Cade stifled a groan when Em planted both hands on her hips and cocked her eyebrow at him. “Good morning, sunshine,” he said. “Do you come with coffee as well?”
Em snapped her spine straight. “You know the early bird doesn’t always get the worm, don’t you? That means coffee, too.” The sound of her husky voice was his own damn personal Kryptonite to his usual levelheadedness. “How about instead of trying to pull my imaginary pigtails, you find Logan and see what work he’s cooked up for you today.”
Lowering the sunglasses down his nose, he smiled at the woman making him want to say, I’ll pull your hair. But I’ll do it while I fuck you senseless. Instead he kept quiet on the dirty fantasies that occupied his dreams last night. “I’ve got a better idea. I promise it’s way more enticing than pulling your hair. Maybe?” He patted the motorcycle seat. “Hop on.”
“I’m nobody’s bitch. Especially some outlaw arrogant biker I just hired,” she warned. “What makes you so special that you can skip out on work?”
He chuckled despite himself. “Between you and me, I think the boss lady is sort of sweet on me.”
She stared at the bike seat, not even attempting to make a move.
Waving his ignorance flag, Cade hunched over the handlebars. “You want me to say I’m sorry? That I shouldn’t have kissed you yesterday? Not going to happen, Em. I’m not that good of a man.” He smiled. “One ride, and then I might consider kissing you again.”
“Clingy much?” she ground out.
“Got a rebellious streak, babe.” He slowly slid a glance down her body, knowing his needy feelings to own the heartbreaker biker chick were entirely stupid. But, shit, they were so damn powerful. Risky, even. “When I see something I want, nothing stops me from getting it.”
“You’re awfully confident for a mechanic, aren’t you? Let me remind you about something. Mechanics are a dime a dozen, so if you want to hit the road, you’d be doing us both a favor.” She shifted her weight, hip cocked in a prissy stance. “Hell, I’ll even buy your gas if that means you’ll ride off into the sunset. Like right now.”
She knew exactly the right buttons to push to piss him off. That kiss yesterday had been anything but forced. Yet if he called her bluff, went all Hulk on her, Em would run. Turn her cute button-shaped nose up at him and haul her sexy ass back inside. It probably made sense to apologize and try to get in her good graces, but Cade had never taken the easy route. And gaining Em Connors’s trust would be no different, since he wasn’t about to burn the man code and turn into some Hallmark greeting card guy. Instead he winked and revved the throttle on his bike. “Princess, I can tell you’re dying to know if I can handle this horsepower between my legs.”
Her eyes lit up in amusement. “Well, a man showing off his toys always makes me want to take the bait.” She slung a leg over the back end of his bike and slid their bodies together. “I’m damn interested to see if you can drive this motorcycle as well as you can fix them.”
He heaved a breath toward the sky and handed Em his extra helmet. “Keep the hands above belt level.”
She wiggled against him.
“Damn, I was just kidding.”
Soft lips pressed against his ear. “Like this, Cade?” And then those perfect hands wrapped around his waist, and she let out a light giggle. Fingers casually touched the waistline of his jeans. “Is this where you enjoyed putting your hands on me yesterday?”
Cade stiffened, briefly taken aback by her playful attitude. How the hell had Em Connors turned the tables so fast? Right. This lighthearted personality she was parading about was going to be more detrimental to his rational thought process than that smoking hot body of hers. The feel of her warm breath as she kept giggling on his neck made him insane. Em Connors made him insane.
“If you want a replay, I’m more than happy to oblige.”
She straightened, and her hands moved back around his waist. “Let’s beat it. Unlike you, I don’t have the luxury to ride the open road whenever I feel like it. I actually have a garage to run. And that reminds me, you have a damn job to keep.” Lips touched his neck. “You’re on the fast track to earning yourself a pink slip, Cade.”
“At your command,” he said and kick-started the bike.
“Such a prince.” Em brushed her mouth at his earlobe and sent his pulse roaring. “Do you know how to drive this thing or not?”
“It’s in my blood, babe.” He revved the throttle, and the engine purred sweet as a kitten. “The real question is how bad of a backseat driver you’re going to be.”
Her familiar laughter caused him to smile against his will.
“This should be entertaining.”
“Tell me about it, Connors,” he said, reaching down to secure her hold on his waist. “You and that goddamn sexy laugh are going to test my sanity.”
He smelled good. Like leather and chrome.
Em leaned into Cade, the wind whipping up in a tunnel around them. He lowered a hand and covered hers in an embrace that brought to mind better times. Times when an old lover dragged her away from the Sinners’ clubhouse and strapped a helmet on her head, taking them on an afternoon ride to relieve the stress and pressure of running an MC. If she wasn’t careful, it’d be really easy to get lost in the moment. Open road, tough guy at her fingertips, and the feel of leather and chrome between her clenched thighs. Home. She rested her chin on his shoulder, the rough stubble of his cheeks creating a pleasurable friction against her flushed flesh. His chest rumbled in a growl, and when he tightened her hold around his toned, muscled stomach, Em couldn’t help herself and slid closer against his body. Come on, Connors, stop getting so comfortable. It was just the loneliness and the feel of a warm body that was playing tricks on her.
After the fake drug dealer strolled off this morning, making it look as if she’d agreed to push his product, Em had chalked things up to becoming another uneventful day at the club. Until she’d stumbled upon Cade straddling his Harley as he rode onto club grounds for his first day of work. His sexy, hard, and unreadable face drew her. It sucked how much she’d wanted to launch herself into his arms and beg to be consumed. Be his. Maybe she’d gone slightly crazy in the wake of her man’s death. Maybe she was lonely. Or maybe she hadn’t expected his half-ass apology. Without really putting much thought into it, she had jumped on his bike, as if she’d been anxious to escape yet another dreadfully dull day. In any case, relieving her sexual itch with Cade would mess up all the plans she’d worked so damn hard to set in motion.
The bike came to a stop, vibrating a hum through her entire system. She turned, taking in the rundown bar. An open sign flashed dismally. Something bitter swam around in her stomach. Why did Cade have to choose her old stomping ground? Last she’d checked, Throttle was frequented by the Vipers. There was no love lost between the Sinners and the Vipers, and Em had no desire to bring up their rivalry. Well, not until the time was right. She had every intention to go after Cyrus Benedict—the Vipers’ president, who she suspected placed the hit on her fiancé. Benedict happened to be the reason she was going to all the trouble of setting up fake drug buys, shaking on deals with the DEA office, and telling half-truths to her oldest friend, Logan Black. Cyrus had killed Wes, even if he hadn’t pulled the trigger, and he would pay. Soon.
Cade pulled off his helmet and shook his head, the playful smile across his devastatingly handsome face making him seem harmless. “You up for a beer, Em?”
Damn, the man should smile more. It was pure perfection—slightly crooked, punctuated by a single dimple. She couldn’t help but grin, even though she knew such a friendly gesture would come back and bite her in the ass.
Shrugging, Em gave the bar one more wary glance. “Not much acquainted with the local gang scene, I guess.” She dropped her hand in his and slung a boot on the sidewalk. Her heel caught on the curb, and she fell forward. Before she landed, big, strong hands gripped her at the waist and pulled, slamming her into the solid wall of his chest.
He grunted, his brown gaze narrowed as he slowly gave her body a once-over. “Maybe you should rethink your choice in shoes. Although they do look stunning on you.” The megawatt smile reappeared, and her heart thumped against her rib cage. “That being said, if your sweet ass needs protection, I’m more than willing to give it extra attention.”
She laughed, heat blazing her cheeks. “It’s not my ass that needs to be guarded.”
On that note, Em weaved through broken patio furniture with Cade practically glued to her side. She reached for the door but instantly encountered his warm touch. He hauled her back against his hard chest and whispered in her ear, “Let me get that.”
When he reached an arm around her to push open the door, every freaking inch of her skin brushed by his touch flamed as if her body had been used to strike a match. Good-guy Cade was making her head spin. It was as if such gentlemanly ways were ingrained in him, and she could’ve easily given in to them, but suddenly he moved, gesturing for her to step inside the dank establishment. For a moment, a single beat in time, Em believed she was witnessing the real Cade Jackson. Caring, protective, and demanding. Exactly the type of man she had trouble saying no to. She’d have to keep her wits in check, because the man standing before her with a casual, friendly, I-just-want-to-grab-drinks smile could potentially make her want to be a better person. And how could she look at herself in the mirror knowing she’d turned her back on Wes? Lied to him, to herself, and to the life they’d been denied together? There was no loyalty in her finding happiness when Wes had suffered. None at all.
Why did he have to be so irresistible? Sexy, good-natured Cade was going to cause her severe insomnia. She’d just need to keep the word “off-limits” on replay.
“What’s your poison?” His hot breath raked down the side of her neck, short-circuiting a shiver up her spine. “My time,” he said, flipping her hair over her shoulder, “my dime.”
“Straight-up whiskey.”
Cade slid his hand around her waist and settled it on her hip. “Where have you been all my life, Connors?”
She blinked; something about his playful tone put her on edge. The problem was Em didn’t trust her heart as far as she could throw the damn broken thing. She moved away from his gentle touch, but quickly realizing how much she hated the distance, lifted her chin and forced a response. “You play, Outlaw?” She gestured at the pool table.
He scrubbed his chin. “I’ve pocketed my fair share of eight balls.”
“I’ll break.” Em nodded at the bar. “You get the drinks.”
“No problem, darling.” His gaze lowered to her mouth. “I’ll be sure to make it a double.”
“Look at you, trying to get me drunk so you’ll have a better chance of winning.”
“Can’t deny I’m a sore loser.” The sexy biker laughed, then left her side to place their drink orders at the bar.
Em glanced around the dingy dive bar, the exact same place—as a little girl—she used to watch her father high on heroin and pawing every whore. It’d been a while since she’d strolled inside Throttle without Logan at her side. Her vice president had made it a point to stay close, even though sometimes his big-brotherly appearance felt suffocating. Today, in this very moment, she could’ve used his support, because sitting in a dark red booth was Cyrus Benedict sandwiched between two blondes.
As if sensing her thoughts, Benedict lifted his chin and waved a hand to invite her over. Tension curled inside her chest, but she made a point to not allow the heartless biker an ounce of control over her emotions. With a determined breath, Em set her mouth into a friendly smile and walked toward the darkened booth.
“Well, what do we have here?” Benedict rubbed his hands together, mouth twitching into a pleased smile. “Axle’s little girl in the flesh.�
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“Benedict.” She acknowledged him with a nod. “Thought I’d stop by and say hello to an old family friend.”
The Vipers’ president snorted. “Girls.” He winked at the ladies nuzzled into his side. “Ever heard of the Dirty Sinners?” Em cringed at the name of her father’s club spilling from his lips. His silver-gray eyes twisted into a menacing glare. “This is their president. Still remember how I helped put diapers on your ass, Connors.”
One of the girls laughed. “I bet you have fun with all those handsome biker boys.”
“Never been much into being someone’s bitch.”
A hand smacked the table hard, jiggling glassware. “There’s the feisty teenager I remember.”
Em hunched over the table and pushed his whiskey glass aside. “Now I might be your worst nightmare.” She picked up a napkin and tossed it at him. “Clean your chin. It looks like one of your girls slobbered on it.”
His nostrils flared, and his cheeks were flushed with alcohol. “I’d watch your mouth, girl. No man wants a mouthy woman at his side.” He picked up his watered-down bourbon and took a sip, mumbling through the liquor, “Heard Price decided to skip out on you. Got any word on his whereabouts?”
She tried to appear casual. Not only was Price snitching to Benedict about Sinners’ secrets, but Logan had alerted her to Vipers poking around the club, asking questions, and kicking up dust. Dirty bastards. “You think I keep tabs on all my men?”
The Vipers’ president laughed through a snort, amused by her lie.
She watched Benedict, a man she once considered family, gesture at the bar. When a smile curled up into his cratered face, Em was certain he’d spotted Cade. “When did you start riding bitch?” He unrolled a cigar and pinched it between his fat fingers. “That new boy toy must be something else to get you to leave your bike.”