She drained the rest of her moonshine and wished she’d asked Ace to bring her another glass.
After a bit, Ace came back with a hurricane for her and a red plastic basket full of fried treats. She took one to be polite, but her appetite had gone. The drink didn’t do much for her either. Hurricanes were a bit too sweet, but he’d surprised her as promised so she sipped it.
Ace nodded to the other side of the room. “He’s still watchin’ us, and I think he’s fantasizing about kickin’ my teeth in.”
She slanted Ace a wicked sort of grin. “Maybe we should give him somethin’ entertaining to watch.”
“You’re tryin’ to make him jealous, aren’t you?”
Ash took a syrupy sip of her drink. “Nope.”
“Don’t be lyin’ to me. I don’t need Voodoo’s freaky-ass perception powers to tell.” He leaned closer to whisper into her ear. “Know what’d really make him jealous?”
“What?”
“If we kissed.” And then he stole one, brushing his lips against hers. He pulled back and offered her a lazy grin.
Ash scooted her chair closer and pressed her leg against his before leaning closer in invitation. “Do it again.” Right now, she needed to think about anyone but Steele.
Ace planted one on her, only this time he was assertive, slipping his tongue into her mouth.
It was…pleasant. Nice.
But it didn’t exactly rock her world—until she saw Steele’s face when she came up for air. Then she felt distinctly warm. Oh, God, the way the way he watched her, stalking her with his eyes. His lips curled, and a vein stood out on his forehead. He tossed back a shot and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then he barked something at the bartender, but she couldn’t hear him over the music.
She wrapped her arms around the biker in front of her, all the while holding Steele’s gaze. Then she shut her eyes and kissed Ace’s neck before slowly making her way to his ear.
She whispered to Ace, “I’m sorry about this.” But, for all Steele knew, she’d said something suggestive. From the glower on his face, he certainly thought so.
Good. Serves his slutty ass right.
“You love up on me all you like. Never apologize for kissin’ a man.” He leaned to the side and captured her gaze. “But you’re enjoyin’ Steele’s reaction more than my lips.”
A shameful blush made her cheeks hot. “Yikes. I’m not being fair to you.”
How long was this obsession with Steele gonna last? When her brother died, she could’ve sworn all her feelings for him had ended, but here she was, stirring them up something fierce.
“I’m s—”
He pressed a finger to her lips. “Don’t fret about it none. Believe me, I’ve had worse dates.”
Ash pulled away and stood. “Tell you what. Let’s get out of here. We’ll go somewhere I can give you my full attention.”
“Well, now, if you’re really feelin’ sorry for me, my apartment’s available.” Ace raised a brow. “I’m sure you could find a way to make it up to me there.”
Ash laughed, shaking her head. “Yeah, I don’t feel that bad.”
“It’d make your boyfriend jealous….”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
A movement across the room captured her attention. Steele stood up so hard he knocked over the stool. He closed the distance between them with several long strides.
“I’ve had enough.”
He made a grab for her arm, but she slapped it away and faced him, hands on hips. “What or who I do is none of your damn business, Jack.” She didn’t add “ass” which should be tacked on to the end of his real name.
Steele swiped his hand over the table, knocking over the hurricane, which gushed to the floor. “Ash hates those. They’re too sweet.” Then he yanked Ace out of his seat by the shirt collar. “Keep your hands off her.”
“She’s yours then?”
“She’s mine, spread the word.” Steele released his brother, who backed off, hands high in the air.
The biker took his seat again with a grin. “Fine by me, brother.”
If she didn’t know better, she’d say he’d been trying to bait Steele.
“Well, it’s not fine by me.”
And then Steele scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder before she could stop him.
From her brand new, upside-down vantage point, she watched as Ace leaped to his feet. “I called it. Pay up, bitches. Steele’s claimed an old lady. The Four Horsemen has lost its reigning manwhore.”
Those biker bastards started exchanging money.
***
“Put me down,” Ash demanded as soon as they got outside.
Steele didn’t say a word, just kept walking across the parking lot. She had no idea where they were going since she had a face full of the ground as she bobbed along.
She slapped his back. “Put. Me. Down.”
He didn’t.
Ash used her fists then, pummeling his ass.
“Let go.”
He shifted her weight. “Ouch. Quit it, or I’ll put you over my knee.”
“I’d love to see you try.” She balled up a fist and kidney-punched him as hard as she could.
“That fuckin’ hurt.”
“Yeah, that’s the point, asshole.” Ash did it again, and he tossed her ass down in the gravel.
“Ouch,” she hissed.
He turned, knees bent, a palm against the small of his back like an old hobbled man.
“You maimed me, woman.”
“Right back at ya.” She stood and rubbed her sore ass. Ugh, he was infuriating. She felt like striking his face and then kissing it better.
“I can’t stand up straight.”
“Quit bitchin’. Take a hot shower and you’ll be fine.” Actually, that’s what she planned on doing as soon as she got back to the motel.
“Were you gonna screw that bastard tonight?”
For a second, she thought about saying yes, for spite, but moral superiority might be more fun.
“No, I’m not you, Steele. I don’t sleep with just anyone. Were you gonna fuck Wendy again tonight? Or was it some other biker’s turn? Maybe ya’ll got a schedule made out.” Imagining him grinding on top of the waitress made her feel stabby.
Steele stood, and they had a glare-off. Both of them had injuries inside and out—wounds that would never heal.
“What the fuck?” He threw his hands up and then gasped in pain. “What in tarnation is wrong with me? I’m turnin’ into Axel. I had no idea why he got so pissed, and now I do.”
This didn’t make much sense to Ash, so she let it go.
“It was only a kiss or two.”
“A kiss or two? More like tongue fucking in public.” He grabbed a handful of gravel and started chucking them at another bike. They all scored a direct hit, clanking against the metal.
Ash bet the other Harley belonged to Ace.
“Whatever. I’m outta here. Enjoy your mental breakdown.”
“The only Horseman you’ll be kissin’ from now on is me.”
Ash snapped back around. “In case you missed it, you don’t own me. I do whatever I want.”
“No, you don’t get it. This ain’t me. I don’t get territorial over women. There’s always another one waitin’ to come along.”
“Thanks, I feel so special.”
“Everything’s coming out wrong. My life is falling apart. History is fuckin’ repeating itself with a vengeance. Coyote’s missin’, I’m losin’ my damn mind, and I can’t get you out of my head.” He met her gaze. “All I think about is you.”
Ash gasped.
Steele’s gaze lingered on her lips. “It’s been a long time. I wonder if you still taste like cinnamon.”
She bit her lower lip.
Ash never knew if she wanted to beat him up, fuck him, or perform some perverse combination of both. Right now, she was leaning towards fuck. She wanted rough, hard hate sex, right there on the dirty ground. Yeah, she’d knoc
k his legs out from under him, straddle his hips, and ride his cock to oblivion.
No matter how wrong it would be.
Evidently, Steele read the thoughts on her face, because he stepped forward.
Slapped back to her senses, Ash balled up a fist. “If you kiss me, I’ll punch you in the face.”
Steele rubbed his jaw as though anticipating the blow. “Might be worth it.”
He was right; fighting had always been their warped form of foreplay.
“You know what? I’ve had enough of you for one night. Stay away from me.”
Ash took off for her Forrester. She slipped her hand into her jeans pocket and pulled out the keys.
“Let me take you home.” Steele sprinted over and fell into step beside her. “You were drinkin’ tonight, and you didn’t eat much, only a bite or two.”
He really had been watching her—intently. Like a stalker.
“Go away, Steele.”
He snatched the keys out of her grasp and ran in the opposite direction.
Balling up her fists, she screamed an inarticulate cry of fury. When she turned, the biker was leaning against his motorcycle, spinning her key ring around one finger like a medal.
Ash stalked over to him. When she was a foot away, she took in a deep breath, closed her eyes, summoned every single last ounce of patience she had, then held out her hand.
“Give me the keys.”
“I’ll take you home and then give ‘em back. You’re tipsy. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
Her calf muscles clenched as she thought about kicking him between the legs. “If I were you,” she said in an overly calm and even tone, “I’d be more worried about what might happen to you.”
He was undaunted. “Come on. Let me take you to the hotel.”
“Keys. Now.”
“Take a chance and go for a fuckin’ ride with me. I know you want to. I can see it on your face. It’ll be fun. You remember how to have fun, dontcha?” He raised a brow. “I’ll show you a good time.”
Steele reached for her, palm up, and his big hand looked large and inviting. But there might as well have been an apple sitting in it—the kind snakes offered gullible girls.
Ash wasn’t about to fall for it. She sighed, her temper dwindling.
“Why do you want me on your bike so damn bad?”
“Come on. Give in for once.”
She ignored the plea. “And while we’re talkin’ it all out, why the hell were you so jealous tonight?”
Steele cursed a blue streak. “Fuck. You wanna talk now? I had to pull words out of you earlier.”
“Yeah, I’m female, and we’re contrary. Get used to it. Answer the question.”
He folded his arms over his chest.
“If you answer me, I’ll go for a ride with you.”
“You will?” He narrowed his eyes as if he didn’t quite believe her.
Ash nodded.
“Okay then. Let’s go for a ride and then we’ll talk. I promise.”
Yeah, she’d run right smack dab into the trap.
“You’re a dick.”
“I know.”
“I’ll walk home.” She held out her hand. “Gimme the hotel key.”
“Let me take you.”
“This ain’t worth arguin’ about. And Steele?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ll never kiss you again.”
The bastard gave her a knowing grin.
“Okay. We’ll fight some more tomorrow.”
Ash stalked down the road on foot, and Steele followed, keeping ten feet between them. He watched until she got inside the room safely.
Yup, she’d lied to both him and herself.
Chapter Eleven
What the hell is wrong with me?
The next morning, Ash ran at a grueling pace as the self-recriminations echoed in her head. She didn’t look at her surroundings; no distractions were allowed—nothing in the world but the long strip of open road in front of her. Sweat trickled between her shoulder blades and dampened her black cotton T-shirt, but she forced herself to move faster.
It was what Ash did best—pushing herself.
She definitely didn’t think about last night or the toe-curling sexual tension between herself and Steele. While she hated his guts, her hormones apparently found Steele tempting.
Traitors.
What had she been thinking? Dredging up the past had only brought her more pain, not closure. She should’ve kept her head down, done the job, and then left this place as soon as possible.
Instead, she’d laid awake all night, thinking about Steele.
Erotic images had assailed her. Her on top of Steele, grinding as he thrust between her thighs. They’d have wild, angry sex. She instinctively knew it’d be good, and Ash could practically taste it.
She’d been contemplating what Steele would be like in bed for years. She’d gotten her wish, and Steele had been the first boy who kissed her. But she’d wanted him to be the first in all ways.
She gritted her teeth, pumped her arms, and extended her stride. Ash thumbed up the volume on her iPod and tried to put it all out of her mind. Wild, Wild West by the Escape Club from the eighties playlist blasted in her ears. She focused on the lyrics, singing them as she sprinted along.
Then Steele was behind her, seemingly coming out of nowhere.
Her heart slammed against her ribcage as she picked up the pace. Ash forced herself to run faster, giving it everything she had.
He came in hot, eating up the distance with extended strides.
“Get away from me,” she puffed and tried to leave him in her dust.
No such luck.
“We gotta talk.” He didn’t even sound winded as he closed in on her. They ran in tandem—left foot and then right. Like their bodies naturally synched.
And, oh, yes, they would.
Ash licked her lips and refused to glance at him. If she did, she’d be a goner. She remembered all too well how good he’d looked running. Broad shoulders, long legs, all rippling muscle and effortless grace. In high school, she'd watched him from the bleachers underneath those Friday night lights. It’s why she’d joined marching band in the first place—so she had a legit reason to stalk him. He’d been beautiful—bronzed, muscled, every teenage girl’s dream boy.
And then she remembered he’d spoken.
“About what?”
“You know what. Last night.”
“Last night won’t happen again. We’ll do the job and stay the hell away from each other.”
Ash drove herself forward, hoping to leave the bastard behind in the dust.
No revelations. No kissy-face either.
He kept up with her easily.
“Which part?”
“All the parts.”
Ash skidded to a halt and hunched over, resting palms against her screaming thighs, gasping for air like a geezer going up a flight of stairs.
Steele leaned over too.
Ash kept her head down.
When she caught her breath once more, she spoke. “I know exactly what part you wanna talk about. We aren’t goin’ there ever again. Not ever. Forget it happened.”
“I wish I could.”
“Try harder,” she snarled.
Ash booked it in the other direction.
“Where you goin’?”
“Away from you, asshat.”
He didn’t follow her, but Ash couldn’t outrun Steele. She never could.
***
Later the same morning, Ash gaped at a palatial mansion coming into view.
After a goose-pimpling, chilly shower, Ash found both Justice and Steele on her doorstep. Steele had handed over her keys without a word, and Justice had informed her they’d gotten a terse message from Beauregard requesting a meeting. Apparently, he’d come across some useful information.
She had trouble keeping her eyes on the road—the urge to gawk was almost overwhelming. She’d grown up in a nice upper-middle-class home
, but this was a mansion. It belonged to Dixon Wolf, Beauregard’s mafia douche buddy.
Their rich and famous lifestyle pissed her off righteously. Her parents had played by the rules, worked hard for their money, but these thugs broke laws and reaped all the rewards without consequences.
And now here she was, working with the bastards. She couldn’t believe Steele and his band of bonehead brothers had dragged her into a meeting with mafia men.
The house had a southwestern hacienda look with a brick courtyard and a red tile roof. They parked near an ornate brick wall flanked by an illuminated fountain and hopped out to find another SUV pulling in.
Byron Beauregard jumped out and led the way to the front door while they trailed him.
They passed a collection of red clay pots and long thin shrubs lining the walkway. The turquoise front door was massive and ornate, possibly antique. It had a detailed cross carved into the surface and looked like it belonged in one of those old-time Spanish missions. Maybe it used to hang in one.
A maid let them in the front door then hurried off. Beauregard yammered away to Steele and Justice, but Ash took a gander at her surroundings, noting exits and entrances.
The foyer lived up to the exterior. The ceiling had to be thirty feet high with exposed wooden beams. The terracotta tile floors were sporadically interrupted by blue tiles arranged to form patterns. The walls were a plain beige stucco, which accented the rustic paintings on the walls in wooden frames with bright colors–red, purple, yellow, and orange.
Hard to believe a place this beautiful belonged to a killer.
A young woman stepped into the foyer. She appeared to be in her early to mid-twenties with baby-fine black hair pulled up into a haphazard bun, pale skin, and cobalt blue eyes behind tortoiseshell glasses.
She had a voluptuous, hourglass figure with large breasts and curvy thighs. She wore boot-cut jeans and a dark blue sweater, which seemed informal by Mafia standards.
“Hello, Mr. Beauregard,” she greeted with a jerky wave.
“Vick, nice to see you again.” Beauregard gestured to the woman. “This is Victoria Hale, Dixon Wolf’s assistant.” Then he introduced Justice, Steele, and Ash.
“Nice to meet ya’ll. Call me Vick, everyone does. Dixon’s waiting. Please follow me.” She led the way down a hall and ushered them into what appeared to be a home office.
Wild Ride (Let it Ride Book 2) Page 25