by Lilly Atlas
“Thanks. It’s Acer, right?” Next to him, she put her back against the armrest and sat facing him, cross-legged on the loveseat.
He nodded. “Jesus, girl, how do you fold yourself up like that? This couch is tiny.”
Emily laughed, his teasing putting her at ease. “Yoga.”
“Ahh, that explains a lot of things.”
Her brows drew down as she tried to determine what he was referring to. “I don’t follow.”
He lifted one sandy-colored brow and smirked at her. “Jester’s had the look of a very satisfied man lately. I’m sure the yoga has something to do with it.”
Heat rose to her face as visions of the yoga session with Jester from the other day flashed in her mind. “I cannot confirm or deny that statement.”
Flawless skin and sharp features gave him an almost regal look. The dark blond hair atop his head was impeccably styled and she swore she’d never seen more perfect teeth. He had the look of old money, like someone who should have the third at the end of their name, at least from the neck up. From the neck down he had nearly as many visible tattoos as Jester, and who knew how many more were hidden under his No Prisoners T-shirt and jeans.
While his body wasn’t as powerfully built as Jester’s, Emily wasn’t under the impression that he was weak in anyway. There was an intelligent air about him, and she had a feeling he could use that to be very deadly, if the situation called for it.
With a grin, he raised a brow at her. “You can put away your microscope and just ask me anything you want to know.”
Emily flushed. She’d been openly studying him while he sat just two feet away from her. “Sorry. That was rude. And I believe I could ask you anything, but I don’t believe you’d tell me much of anything.”
“You got me there, Emily.” He reached out and ruffled her hair like she was his kid sister. “I think I like you. Jester sure seems to.”
“He talked about me?” She bit her lip to hold back a groan. Could she have asked a more sophomoric question? Next she’d be asking Acer to pass Jester a note in class.
“Your name may have come up once or twice.”
She refused to ask what they were talking about, even though she was dying to know.
He stared at her, and she understood what he’d meant by the microscope comment. “Can be a tough life,” he said breaking the momentary silence.
“Excuse me?”
He pointed to the No Prisoners patch on the front of his cut. “MC life. For a woman especially.”
“You trying to warn me off your friend, Acer?”
Her comment brought the grin back to his face. He was devastatingly handsome, and she imagined he didn’t lack for female attention. “No, darlin’, quite the opposite. I think you might be just the softness he needs in his hard life.”
Emily couldn’t prevent the smile from expanding on her face. The more time she spent with Jester, the more she wanted to be just that. She had a feeling there were times his life was full of violence and misery, and she’d love to be the one he came to when he needed to chase away his demons. What was that expression about wishing in one hand?
“Thank you.” Emotion thickened her throat and made her voice deeper than usual. Maybe it was a good thing that she wouldn’t be around to see the fallout from her deception.
Acer put a hand on her knee and gave her a gentle squeeze.
“Hands to yourself, asshole.” Jester growled.
Emily started.
He stood in the doorway wearing a pair of navy basketball shorts and holding a gray T-shirt in his hand. The sight of his sculpted chest had her forgetting all about the man sitting on the couch next to her. Jester moved into the room, straight toward her. When he reached the couch, he shot Acer an annoyed look and hauled Emily to her feet.
He pulled her flush against his hard body, still slightly damp from the shower, and lowered his mouth to hers. He kissed her. And kissed her. And kissed her. The room spun and she melted against him with a sigh.
“You start ripping her clothes off, brother, and I’m gonna take that as an invitation to join in.”
Jester broke the kiss long enough to say, “Get the fuck out of here Acer.”
“Jester, that’s not nice. He doesn’t have to leave.” She started to pull back but only made it about one inch before Jester crushed her close.
“Yes, he does. And he has to leave now.”
Acer laughed, and shoved the laptop in a computer bag on the floor. “Okay, I’m leaving. I can take a hint.”
If anything else was said, Emily didn’t hear it. Jester returned his mouth to hers as he lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he turned and backed her against the wall. The hard planes of his body pressed against her as he lifted his head and whispered to her. “Missed you today, baby.”
In these moments of softly spoken words and intimacy, Emily could pretend they were a couple. Imagine this relationship had a future, and that there was no guillotine above her head just waiting to drop.
Jester rocked his erection against her saturated sex.
Damn her clothing.
“You ready for me, Em?”
With a moan she looked him straight in the eye. “Always Jester. Anytime you want me I’m yours, just take me.”
How was it possible for her heart to be so full at the same time it was breaking?
Chapter Fifteen
The days passed in a combined haze of sexual satisfaction, fear, and frustration as Emily spent her nights with Jester and her days hitting walls with every attempt to uncover the No Prisoner’s plan for the Grimms. Before she knew it, ten days had blown by, and nearly three quarters of her time limit imposed by Snake had vanished.
Jester was a locked vault when it came to club business and if she wasn’t careful he’d soon grow suspicious of her inquiries. A few times when she’d been alone in Jester’s house she was able to do a bit of snooping. Betrayal burned, a tight ball in her stomach the entire time. To her everlasting shame, she was actually relieved when she didn’t uncover anything.
She needed that information for Snake, but the idea of it coming from a direct betrayal of Jester was nauseating.
Today they were spending the afternoon at the clubhouse. The MC was hosting their annual Memorial Day Barbecue. This was the first time she’d been back at the clubhouse in a week and mutant butterflies had been fluttering in her stomach all day. She had to find some intel for Snake. With four days left, she was approaching desperate, and the once ridiculous idea of breaking into the clubhouse at night would be her only option if she didn’t catch a break soon.
She stood with her back resting against the bar, gazing at the room full of bikers. Jester stood against the bar as well, facing her, one hand absently playing with her hair as he sipped a beer.
“You better knock that shit off before I take you right here on this bar.” Jester growled in her ear.
“What?” Emily cast an angelic look his way. “What am I doing?” It took all her strength to stay in character and not break down right in the middle of the clubhouse.
“Jesus.” Jester groaned. “I’ve created a monster. Baby, don’t ever play poker. Every raunchy thought is written clearly on your face.” Leaning in close, he whispered, “You’re thinking about last night. Which time? When I went down on you in the kitchen? Or maybe when I bent you over couch and fucked you from behind? Damn your ass looked good. Maybe it was when—”
She stopped him with a hand over his laughing mouth as moisture pooled between her thighs. The man was lethal with words, but he needed to shut up before she died of embarrassment. There were at least ten other people bustling around the clubhouse.
Jester wrapped his arms around her. Palming her ass with both hands, he lifted her and spun around, setting her down on the bar top, which put her almost at eye level with him.
Still holding her ass, he nudged her thighs open and stepped between them, planting his mouth on hers in a searing kiss. As his ta
lented tongue filled her mouth, the fact that they were in the middle of the clubhouse among other people fled her mind. Jester trailed his lips across her jaw, down the column of her throat, to her chest.
Before she caught on to what he was planning, Jester removed his hands from her bottom, and brought them around to cup her full breasts outside her clothing. She wore a dark purple tank top with a scooped neck that showed off a hint of cleavage, or it had until Jester pushed her breasts up and together with his hands, exposing more than was acceptable for mixed company.
“Jester!” She gasped, scandalized, as he placed biting kisses across the flesh he’d plumped up toward his face. Mortified that people were watching, she tried to swat him away.
He lifted his head slightly, but didn’t release her. “What babe? You started this, thinking about how many times I made you come last night. Now you have to deal with the consequences.” He dropped his head back down, dipped his tongue in her cleavage, and Emily had to bite back the moan threatening to escape. Part of her wanted to rip off her clothes and let him do whatever he wanted right here, not caring who saw, but luckily that was just a small part.
She needed to get through to him so she grabbed a handful of his hair, and gave a hard yank.
“Ouch! Shit babe! You know I like it when you pull my hair, but usually we’re both about to come so the pain is kind of erotic. That hurt like a son of a bitch.” He stood back up with a wince and rubbed the back of his head.
“There ya go, girl,” a man called from across the room. “Don’t you let him treat you like a piece of meat. You gotta teach him how to be a gentleman. He doesn’t get a free pass just because he made you come all night long, or so he says.”
Jester turned and flipped off Acer, who was snickering from the other side of the room.
Emily decided to shove the discomfiture away. Sure they were in a room full of people, but all of these men were highly sexual, and what Jester just did didn’t come close to the exhibitionist acts they were used to seeing around here. Besides, she had to admit it was fun to be a little naughty and let her inhibitions fall away.
She peeked around the large tattooed body blocking her view, and directed her words at Acer. “I’m trying, but he’s been a wild beast for so long that it’s taking quite a bit of work.” She hopped down from the bar and turned toward the kitchen, which was through a door behind the bar.
As she passed Jester, he bent and whispered in her ear, “I’ll show you how much of a wild beast I can be later tonight. Then we’ll see who has the last laugh.” Straightening he gave her a sharp slap on the ass as she strutted by.
A sad smile that he couldn’t see formed on her mouth. How she wished everything was as simple as the fun and games he thought it was.
Emily entered the kitchen and sought out Lila and Marcie, finding them busy getting all the food ready to be transported out to the parking lot. The day would get cooler as the evening approached, and they’d have the barbecue out in the lot.
“Oh my God, that smell is intoxicating.” Emily groaned as she stepped into the kitchen and gave each woman a quick hug. “What can I do to help?” The food had been brought in from a local barbeque joint. Trays of ribs, pulled pork and chicken were stacked high on the counters while the women uncovered additional platters filled with macaroni and cheese, greens, and potato salad.
“Hey, girl! Pick your poison. Everything needs to be opened and then the prospects will lug it all out for us.”
Emily salivated as she uncovered a foil pan loaded high with ribs falling off the bone. The ribs were swimming in a sauce and emitted a sweet and spicy aroma, that made Emily’s stomach growl in a decidedly unladylike fashion. “Oh, man, I am starving. Can I just eat this whole tray right here?”
Lila threw her a snarky grin. “Nonstop sex with a triple H man will do that to you.”
Emily felt her face heat, but her curiosity beat out her embarrassment. “Okay, I’ll bite. What’s a Triple H man?”
“Hot, hard, and huge.” She flexed her muscles like a body builder on the word huge.
Emily shook her head, the denial on the tip of her tongue. But, what the hell? These women were both involved with men cut from the same cloth as Jester. They probably knew exactly what it was like to be on the receiving end of all that focused sexuality. “Damn right it will.”
Marcie whooped with laughter as Lila held up a hand for a high five. “Damn girl,” Lila said. “I’d tell you it gets less intense, but I’d be lying.”
“Amen, sister,” added Marcie. “And we wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Emily smiled. She loved the bond between these two women, and felt grateful for the way they included her so effortlessly. The three chatted as they uncovered all the dishes and sent them outside with a few of the prospects. When all the work was done, Marcie and Lila made their way outdoors in search their men. Emily used the excuse of needing to make a trip to the bathroom to hang back for a moment.
Noise from inside the clubhouse had dimmed. Most of the members were outside drinking and getting ready to dive into the feast. There was a chance she could poke around for some information, and she’d take any chance she could get at this point.
The more time she spent with this group, the harder it was to envision selling them out to Snake. Guilt was a constant companion, but it burned particularly bright when she imagined Lila and Marcie’s reaction upon discovering she was working for Snake. But what choice did she have?
Emily poked her head out of the kitchen and peered into the main room of the clubhouse. It was as silent as death. Not one club member remained. Her gaze landed on the double doors leading to the room the club used for meetings. That’s where she needed to be. If any information was to be found it would be in that room.
With a deep breath, Emily pushed the door open, stepped out of the kitchen and walked in the direction of the meeting room. Her heart rate increased with each step and the butterflies in her stomach turned into a pack of angry vultures. The closer she got, the heavier her feet grew and before long she felt like she was slugging through thick muck.
By the time she reached the doors, she was sweating and dizzy. The paralyzing fear had to stop. She conjured up the image of Johnny from ten days ago and felt anger replace the fear. Anger she could use. Anger could fuel her.
She reached for the door handle and yanked.
The heavy door swung out toward her body. Yes! It wasn’t locked. Finally, she had some hope. Emily was halfway through the doorway when footsteps pounded on the floor above her.
Shit! Someone was seconds away from descending the steps and catching her.
She let go of the door like it was on fire and dashed toward the bar.
“Emily?” a man called her name.
Her heart seized in her chest “Y-yes?”
A lanky man whose limbs had a rubbery appearance stood five steps from the bottom of the stairs. What was his name? Stretch? No. Gumby? That sounded right.
“What are you doing? I think Jester’s outside.”
Well, I’m just trying to break into your meeting room so I can give your enemies information about you. “I…um…” She scrambled for a cover, the words sticking in her dry mouth. “I wanted a drink.” She pointed to the bar.
He didn’t answer, but pierced her with a steady look. “I think they’ve got anything you could want outside.”
“Right,” she answered. “Guess I better get back out there.”
Gumby’s focus shifted from her to the meeting room doors.
Emily held her breath. If he questioned her, if he mentioned it to Jester, the game would be over.
“Go on then, girl. I’m gonna hit the can then be out there myself. I’m fuckin starved.”
Emily scurried toward the door.
Gumby remained in his spot on the steps until she’d left the building.
Bright sun assaulted her eyes. Squinting, she scanned the parking lot for Jester. Dozens of large, leather-wearing men milled a
round, eating, drinking, and smoking. The scene was definitely tamer than the party from the previous week, but there was still an abundance of women in barely-there outfits flitting around the men.
“Hey, girl! We’re over here.” Marcie’s voice rang out from about twenty feet away.
Emily hadn’t spotted Jester yet, so she walked to Marcie, Lila and two other women. Thank God they couldn’t see her still racing heart, and hopefully they’d attribute her sweaty brow to the heat of the day.
“Let me introduce you. Emily, this is Jaz and Betsy. Jaz works part time at the reception desk in the garage,” she said of the woman who looked like a female version of the bikers. Jaz was about Emily’s height, with spiky hot pink hair and myriad tattoos over her widely exposed skin. Leather short shorts and a black halter finished off the biker chick look. “And Betsy here is trying her damnedest to pretend she’s not over the moon in love with Gumby.”
“Marcie!” Betsy, a tall, willowy blonde with caramel colored eyes, swatted her arm.
Marcie laughed, and slung an arm around Betsy’s shoulders. “Girls, this is Emily, Jester’s ol’ lady.”
The two women didn’t bother to hide their surprise at that news, blatantly assessing Emily with shocked expressions. Emily was quite stunned by the label herself. She wasn’t Jester’s ol’ lady. They hadn’t discussed what they were to each other. It was a conversation Emily avoided like a communicable disease.
“No, I’m not…I mean we’re just…” she stammered, not having a clue where to go with this. They were just what? Spending every night together? Spending hours every day naked and pleasuring each other in ways Emily hadn’t even know existed a week ago? Spending time with his friends and family? She had no idea what to say.
“Girl, you may not have given it an official title, but that man is off the market.” Marcie blazed on, oblivious to Emily’s discomfort. “Trust me on this. I’ve known the guy for years. Years! And I’ve never once seen him look at a woman with a fraction of the emotion he looks at you with Emily. You’re his ol’ lady.”