She’d never called him Blue until tonight. Leon was the boy who’d been her friend, the one she’d talked to and teased while her mom cleaned his house and he did his homework. Enjoying the attention of this clean-cut rich kid who was always so adorably shocked when she told him stories of life in the MC.
But it wasn’t Leon the kid she wanted, it was Blue the man. Blue, who’d left his high-society family for the Deacons, who’d fit in there like he’d been born to it. Who, as it turned out, was wilder and more intense than she’d ever suspected in those early days.
Blue, the man she couldn’t have because she couldn’t risk losing what she did have of him—his friendship.
“Hey, Red!”
The name jolted her, set the fire inside her blazing. But it was Gator, not Blue, who had called her, coming toward her, a friendly smile on his face.
Mentally giving herself a shake, Alice grinned back, trying not to give in to the temptation to pull away as he slung a companionable arm around her shoulders. That he was drunk soon became obvious, though not in an overtly unpleasant way. He was a friendly drunk and maybe, at a different time, if Blue hadn’t just stamped his ownership on her in the way that he had, she might have been more interested and open to his good-natured advances.
But it wasn’t a different time and Blue had given her his patch, claimed her out in that courtyard, and Gator wasn’t the man she wanted. Which made everything that much more difficult.
She allowed him to get her some beer and when he pulled her down on one of the couches beside him, she sat without protest. They talked easily about nothing, about the garage, about one of the brothers’ latest bikes and about how it was a piece of shit and everyone agreed except the brother concerned.
Getting him to talk about Ministry stuff was always going to be difficult, since they never spoke about it to women. But she occupied a distinct and unusual place in the hierarchy and no one was quite sure of her role. She wasn’t a brother, but she wasn’t an old lady, either. She was under Blade’s protection and looked after their bikes, which made her special.
Gator was not only drunk but also clearly horny. He wrapped an arm around her waist and she let him, trying to figure out what she could ask him that would yield more information about Priest’s death and yet hide her Deacons sources.
“Went past The Priory today,” she said eventually. “Deacons everywhere. They’re well and truly back.”
“Yeah, the fuckers. Luckily there aren’t too many of them to be a threat.”
“Blade worried?”
Gator shifted uncomfortably, shooting a glance at his president, who was sitting on a couch opposite them, a pretty brunette on his knee, her fingers toying with his black hair. In his late thirties, Blade was a good-looking guy, and as president he had a certain charisma that ensured his bed was never cold.
“He’s handling it,” Gator said evasively.
Alice toyed with her beer bottle. “Priest’s death must have been a shock.”
Gator shifted again. “More like a blessing.”
She didn’t like the easy way he said it. Priest had been a good man, a good president. He’d always treated her well and his death had upset her. And if the Ministry had anything to do with it, as Blue seemed to claim…
“Well, I guess it leaves the way open for Blade to make a move if he wants. Though Ajax isn’t a guy to be messed with.”
Gator lifted a shoulder. “Blade’s not worried. We can deal with it.” His arm tightened around her, his hand spreading suggestively on her thigh. “Anyway, I don’t want to talk about the Deacons. I want to talk about us. I want to know what you thought about my suggestion.”
She tried not to tense as his thumb moved on her thigh. Everything felt overly sensitive, all her nerve endings leaping at the touch. Her nipples hardened, a little shiver racing over her skin. But it wasn’t Gator her body wanted. It was Blue. He’d fired her up and now she wanted more.
“I’m thinking about it,” she said, giving Gator a smile.
He smiled back, a warm, lazy smile that would have been sexy if she hadn’t already been with someone else. “I know you don’t do hookups, but how do you feel about testing something out?”
Oh, Jesus. Her heartbeat thudded in her ears. But it made sense to use his sexual interest in her to see what more information she could find out. She wasn’t the first woman to do so and she wouldn’t be the last.
Alice leaned back, settling against Gator’s body, watching the party going on around them. “What exactly did you have in mind?” she asked, taking another sip of her beer to ease her dry throat.
His arm moved, his hand settling over her stomach before sliding up to the curve of her breast, stroking the underside of it. She couldn’t stop the little tremble of reaction that shook her and didn’t try. It was even a good thing, because maybe he’d think it was him having that effect on her and not just her body remembering an earlier pleasure, with a different man.
“Getting naked is what I had in mind.” His hand rose higher, his fingers finding her nipple, brushing over it. “Taking some chemistry for a test drive.”
She gritted her teeth against the electric jolt. “Maybe.”
“Seems like your body wants to.”
It did. But not with him.
Taking another sip of beer, Alice let him toy with her a little longer. “You know, though,” she said finally, “I just keep thinking about that accident.”
“What accident?”
“The one that killed Priest. I mean the cops said he came off his bike and broke his neck, but…he rode that bike like it was part of him and he’d never had an accident before. And it was just a straight stretch of road.”
Gator’s fingers didn’t stop moving, but she could feel his body tense slightly before relaxing again. “What exactly are you saying?” There was an edge in his voice beneath the lazy drunken tone of before, an edge that sounded awfully like suspicion.
She kept her tone casual. “What if it wasn’t an accident after all? I guess I’m saying what if someone took him out?”
“Who cares? There’s probably a hundred people in this city who wanted him dead. Got nothing to do with us.”
“Yeah, but, he was my president years ago, you know?”
“So? You’re not a Deacon anymore, Red. You’re Ministry. It shouldn’t concern you.”
“The Deacons are back, Gator. And they came back right after Priest died. You can’t tell me that isn’t a coincidence.”
His finger circled her nipple again, slightly harder this time. “They’re weak. They don’t have the manpower to be a threat, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“They might be looking for revenge is all I’m saying. Especially if Priest’s death wasn’t an accident.”
Gator was silent a minute. “Are you suggesting Ministry had something to do with it?” Again that disturbing undercurrent in his voice.
She shook her head, trying to make herself relax. “No, of course not. I’m just concerned we’ll be the first suspects if the Deacons want to start a war over it.”
“Ah, don’t worry about that. Blade’ll handle any problems that come up. Now, answer my question.” His fingers spread wide on her breast, possessive. “You interested in going somewhere a little more private or what?”
No, she wasn’t. But she hadn’t gotten any kind of real information out of him at all.
Masking her frustration, she sipped on her beer to give herself a bit more time before having to respond. They were getting a few glances from people and she guessed it wasn’t any wonder. She hadn’t let anyone else touch her the way Gator was touching her now.
On the couch opposite Blade was ostensibly busy with the brunette, but Alice didn’t miss the fact that his sharp, dark gaze had turned in her direction more than once. She couldn’t read the look in his eyes, but she thought she’d glimpsed surprise. He was probably wondering what the hell she was doing with Gator.
She let her own gaze dri
ft away from him and back over the crowd. Had Blade really gotten his own men to kill Priest, as Blue thought? It still didn’t make any sense to her. He wouldn’t gain anything from it, not when the Deacons were gone and Priest was just an old guy with a bar. And apart from anything else, Blade was straight up. If he wanted someone taken out, he’d take him out and fuck the rest of the world. He wouldn’t screw around with making it look like an accident. But then if he hadn’t, where had that payment come from? And who wanted to make it look like the Ministry was to blame?
Gator shifted behind her, nuzzling her neck, his hand squeezing her breast. “C’mon, Red. At least tell me you’re interested.”
She could. And then she could go with him out into the hallway or one of the bedrooms attached to the clubhouse. She could try and get more information from him as she gave him a blow job or let him screw her. If she was good enough, if she was lucky, he might even tell her. But she couldn’t bring herself to go through with it. The thought of doing what she’d done with Blue with Gator was wrong. And Blue would know, too. He’d figure it out. And he’d be so pissed with her…
She tried to contain the shiver that snaked down her spine, putting a hand on Gator’s thigh instead. “I might be,” she said, keeping it noncommittal. “It’s just…I need some time, okay?”
He sighed, giving her nipple a final swipe before his hand dropped away. “Yeah, okay. But you sure do know how to keep a man hanging on.”
She had to give him points for backing off when told. Not all the Ministry guys were like that. But if she kept him on the line a little bit longer, he might get desperate enough to be freer with the information. If he had any information, that was.
The party had begun to descend into drunkenness, and someone was passing around a joint, while some of the others had gathered around Snake and some woman who was enthusiastically welcoming him back from jail with a good, old-fashioned blow job.
That was her cue to leave. Not that anyone would touch her or try to force her into doing anything she didn’t want, but her body was starting to ache and she found she couldn’t stop thinking about Leon. About Blue.
She didn’t want to be here. She wanted to be with him.
An abrupt departure would look odd, so she stayed another half hour, talking with a couple of the old ladies she knew, before slipping out the door and into the streets outside.
It was dark and deserted, but she was completely safe. It was Ministry territory and no one would touch her, at least if they didn’t want a war on their hands.
She began to walk down the sidewalk, getting her phone out to call a cab. She’d left the warehouse unobtrusively, managing to avoid the offers of a ride home with one of the brothers.
And just at the corner, she saw a man sitting astride a massive Harley in the shadows near a streetlight. She couldn’t quite make out his features since he was hidden by the darkness, but nevertheless, she knew who it was. Those wide shoulders and that muscular chest, the narrow hips and long legs encased in denim were unmistakable. The streetlight picked up a faint gold gleam from his hair.
Leon. Blue.
He’d come for her.
Her heart leaped, her blood suddenly moving hot and fast in her veins. God, what the hell was he doing here? In Ministry territory?
She walked toward him, unable to take her eyes off him. He was sitting there with one hand on the handlebars of his black Harley softail, the other resting lightly on his thigh. His face was hard and set, the look in his eyes focused and possessive as they watched her approach. He wasn’t wearing his cut, thank God, only the black T-shirt.
It was a risk, him being here. A huge risk. Then again, he’d been away from the city for ten years. The Ministry probably wouldn’t even recognize him.
“How long have you been out here?” she asked as she came to a stop in front of his bike.
“A while.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t want you to get a cab and I don’t trust those pricks.” He shifted on the bike, his boot kicking up the kickstand. “Get on, baby. Let’s go home.”
She didn’t hesitate, tucking her phone away and getting onto the bike behind him. Then she leaned forward, wrapping her arms around his waist and holding on tight. He was hot against her front and she could feel the shift of hard muscle as he started the bike and opened the throttle. Her fingers splayed against his flat stomach, a sudden intense, possessive feeling sweeping through her.
She pressed her head against his back, inhaling leather and the warm, spicy smell that was all him. And something deep inside her that had been so tense as she’d sat next to Gator, something that had been tense for years, abruptly relaxed.
Home. Yeah, that’s exactly what she wanted to do. Go home with him.
Opening up the throttle, Blue took off down the street, the wind pulling Alice’s hair out behind her, the noise of the Harley’s engine reverberating off the buildings as they hurtled through the night.
She had her own bike and rode it quite a bit, but it had been a long time since she’d been on the back of someone else’s. Been a long time since she’d been riding with him. She still remembered that first ride, holding on for dear life as he showed off the first softail he’d bought after saving so hard. She’d loved it then, the feeling of his hard body against hers and the wind ripping at her clothing. And she loved it now, the city streets alive with heat and neon, and the faint bursts of music. Jazz and blues, and metal. And then, as they approached the Quarter, tourists and hawkers and deadbeats and just about everyone in between.
He pulled up outside The Priory and parked the bike, pulling her off, keeping her close as the bouncer opened the doors and let them into the bar.
It was late, three a.m., but the Deacons party was still going. There were smashed glasses on the floor and a few bodies slumped here and there, dead drunk and out cold. A number of people were still dancing, while others were clustered around the tables, either talking or just sitting there with their eyes closed, too drunk to speak.
Some of them were doing other things.
As Blue pulled her through the crowd toward the back door, she noticed Prince with the blond woman. He had her backed into one corner of the bar, up against the wall with her skirt riding high and one thigh wrapped around his hip. He was kissing her deeply, his hips moving in a slow, leisurely way.
Alice swallowed and tore her gaze from the pair as Blue hustled her out through the back door and into the courtyard. It was quiet out there, but he didn’t stop, his arm around her tightening as they approached his apartment.
He pulled open the door, tugging her inside and into the kitchen area. Then he backed her up against the nearest wall and covered her mouth, hard and hungry and possessive. She didn’t protest this time; she didn’t have it in her. In the courtyard outside, he’d broken her walls down, made her confess how much she’d wanted him and for how long. And then he’d shown her how much he’d wanted her. Just like he was doing right now.
It was a balm to her wounded soul and she arched into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, kissing him as desperately as he was kissing her.
After long moments, he pulled away, looking down at her, breathing hard. “Did he touch you?”
It took her a second to understand what he was talking about. “Yes.” She didn’t justify it. He knew what she’d been trying to accomplish.
“Where?” he demanded thickly.
“Here.” She cupped her breast.
His gaze dropped to where her hand was and he cursed viciously under his breath. Then he pulled her hand away, tugged up her tank top, and tore away the lace cup of her bra, baring her. His hand covered her, the heat of his palm burning away Gator’s touch so completely she couldn’t even remember what it had felt like.
He lifted his eyes to hers, the darkness of them full of fire and smoke and heat. His thumb brushed over her nipple and this time she welcomed the hot jolt. “Not again,” he said roughly. “He can’t touch you again,
understand? If he does, I’ll kill him.”
She didn’t mistake the furious look in his eyes. He meant it. “I thought you were okay with this.”
“No. I am not okay with that.” He was breathing fast, and the possessive look in his eyes was…Christ, she liked it. She actually liked it. No point in pretending otherwise. No point in trying to deny it. She wanted to be wanted by him.
“Blue.” She gave him his name softly, lifting her hand and touching his face, letting her fingers brush along the high, sculpted edge of his cheekbone. “You know there’s only you.”
“I don’t care. You’ll have to get the info you need without him touching you.” He pinched her nipple hard, making her gasp. “This is mine, baby. All of it.”
She stared up into his face, seeing anger and a desperation she didn’t quite understand. But no, she wasn’t going to ask what was going on. They’d done enough talking tonight and right now, she just wanted him.
So instead she leaned back against the wall and said, “Then take it.”
And let him as he did.
Chapter 8
Alice put the finishing touches on her makeup, then took a step back from the mirror, giving herself a critical once-over. She wasn’t a dress girl so it felt weird to put one on, but tonight she’d wanted to make a bit more of an effort, so she’d hauled out the dark blue silk wraparound number she’d gotten cheap in a sale a couple of years ago. It hugged her figure beautifully, showing enough cleavage to be sexy as well as a good deal of leg beneath the short, flirty hem. It was cute, and hopefully Blue would like it. Hopefully he’d like the color, too.
There wasn’t an occasion. They weren’t going out anywhere special. Not when she couldn’t afford to be seen out with him anywhere but The Priory in case there were any Ministry sympathizers hanging around. But every night after she’d finished at the garage¸ she’d come back to The Priory and Blue’s apartment. Sometimes they’d sit in the bar and talk over a few beers. Sometimes they’d head straight to his place, where he’d cook her dinner and tell her about his time in the bayou, where he’d helped the remote communities down that way with the Katrina cleanup. She’d begun to look forward to those evenings more than she’d thought possible, and tonight, she just wanted to show her appreciation a little.
Hold Me Down (The Deacons of Bourbon Street #3) Page 12