He had no idea what Trigger was capable of from the inside. How many people had he been in contact with?
Declan thought he did a good job of covering his tracks and leaving no evidence to his whereabouts, but O’Reilly found him, so who was to say that Trigger wouldn’t?
O’Reilly was a cop, though, and he had access to much more than Trigger. Then again, Declan had no idea who Trigger knew. The man had always had connections, and Declan didn’t doubt he had some within the police department.
He shoved his hands through his hair and went back behind the bar. There was nothing he could do except lay low and hope like hell the bastard never showed. And right now, as far as Declan knew, Trigger was still locked up, so if he had anyone out looking for him, they wouldn’t hurt Declan. No, Trigger would want that honor himself. He was safe for now, but he was biding his time and he needed to come up with a plan before it was too late.
Maybe he should just leave town. It would be better for everyone if he got out of there. Or maybe he could convince Layla to go away with him for a vacation. They both worked so much and could use some time away. He doubted she’d go for it; it was like pulling teeth just to get her to agree to call off for a single day. Besides, it wasn’t like if Trigger did track him down to Red Maple Falls, the asshole wouldn’t wait for Declan’s return. Trigger wanted revenge, and he wouldn’t leave without it.
“What can I get you?” Declan asked a guy with blond hair and a goatee.
“A pint of the pumpkin stout,” he said, and Declan got a glass to fill. He’d been so caught up with Layla and O’Reilly’s arrival, he forgot to let Mason know he tapped the keg. He made a mental note to do so then handed the guy his beer. “Want to start a tab?’
“Sure,” the guy said and handed over a credit card.
Declan took the card and turned to the register. When he was done, he turned back, a happy smile tilting his lips. Somehow Layla had managed to squeeze into her usual seat at the bar.
“What can a girl do to get some service around here?” she asked as she unraveled her scarf.
Declan leaned across the bar until he was inches from her face. “I could think of a few things.”
“I bet you can,” she said before kissing him.
When he pulled back, he immediately scanned the crowd, looking for anyone who might have taken notice of them. Then he remembered he was in Red Maple Falls, where all the townies poked their noses into people’s business, so of course a few people stared with I knew it plastered on their faces. Luckily, Declan recognized all of them and let out a relieved breath. He wanted to kiss Layla in public—he was quite fond of kissing her whenever he could—but maybe he needed to lay low a bit just in case. The last thing he wanted was the wrong person to see them together and Layla to get roped into this mess.
He got Layla’s mug and filled it with coffee. She smiled as he placed it down on the bar in front of her. She wrapped her hands around it and brought it to her mouth. She closed her eyes and took a whiff. A look of ecstasy brightened her face as she finally took a sip.
He refilled a beer from someone and rang another person out.
“It’s busy tonight,” she said as she put the mug on the bar.
“I’m surprised you managed to get a seat,” he said.
“This is my stool, after all. I think it should have a reserved for Layla plaque on it.”
He laughed. “I’ll see what I can do.” He grabbed a bottle of wine, filled a glass, and nodded to the woman he’d already set up a tab for. She took the glass and headed back to her friends.
“I’m not going to be able to talk as much as I usually do,” he said as he heard the kitchen bell ringing. He glanced around; Rina and Harvey were held up taking orders. “I have to go get that order from the kitchen.”
Layla took another sip of her coffee. “Leave me the pot and go do what you have to do. I like watching you work anyway.”
“Is that so?”
She bit her lip, the edges of her mouth curving upward. “It’s pretty hot.”
“Suddenly I feel like a piece of meat.”
Her lips pursed together, and he knew she had a dirty thought brewing in her mind. Before he could tell her to be out with it, the kitchen bell rang again.
“Hold that thought,” he said and headed to the kitchen window to grab the orders before they piled up.
After that he was pulled from one direction to the next just barely having a chance to say more than a few words to Layla. But with his paranoia kicking into overdrive, he kept an eye on her and anyone who came near her.
He was relieved when Hadley Bennett stopped in with her husband Sam. Sam was a friend of Declan’s and the local fire chief. He was also a mentor to Layla’s brother, Chase, and someone Layla was close to. As long as Sam was around, and if Declan happened to take his eyes off of Layla for too long, he knew she was safe.
With Hadley and Sam finding seats next to Layla at the bar, Declan worked with ease, getting shit done and making customers happy. By the time the last customer was out the door, he was ready to take his girl home.
Rina and Harvey counted their tips at the end of the bar, Ashton cleaned up the kitchen, and Layla still sat in her spot, holding her mug, a half pot of coffee sitting beside her.
“I’m almost done here,” he said.
“Take your time; I’m perfectly content.”
“Is someone actually taking a second to relax?” he asked.
She nodded. “Mmm. It’s nice not thinking about everything that has to get done.”
“Aren’t you afraid of it piling up?” he asked, remembering their conversation a few days ago at her kitchen table.
“Not when I already got everything done. I literally have nothing to do.”
“Except me.”
She wadded up a napkin and tossed it at him. He didn’t even bother to try and catch it, letting it smack him square in the forehead.
“Two points!” she said with a victorious lilt in her tone.
“Cute.”
She shrugged. “I know.” She leaned across the bar, her eyes locking on his. “But you are on my to-do list, so whenever you’re ready…” She lowered herself back on her stool, and Declan fought the urge to kick his employees out and take her right here on the bar.
He took a second to suppress his growing erection. Once he was in the clear, he helped Ashton finish up in the kitchen. By the time they were done Rina and Harvey had already left and Declan had never been happier to see his employees head home.
He nodded to Ashton as he headed out into the crisp early fall night and when the door closed, Declan hit the lock, pulled the blinds, and went right to Layla.
It was as if she sensed him, a lion on the prowl ready for his next meal. She spun on the stool, and in one motion he grabbed her head and crashed his lips to hers. She squeaked before settling into a frantic rhythm, their mouths moving with purpose against each other. Her leg snaked around him, and she dug her heel into his ass, pulling him closer.
His hands went into her hair that she’d taken out of its usual ponytail, letting his fingers get lost in the soft strands. He wanted to take her fast and hard on this very barstool she’d sat on for years torturing him with her lush lips and sexy as sin eyes.
She was in her scrubs, so there were no zippers or buttons he had to fight through. His hand caressed the small of her back and dipped into her waistband. He traveled down the curve of her ass until he was holding a cheek firmly in his hand. He squeezed, and she moaned against his lip.
“I think every couple in this town has had sex in this place,” he said, and she bit his lip.
There had been many instances where couples disappeared to the backroom or the bathroom. Declan never wanted to get involved with anyone’s personal life, so he had always let it go. He figured if somebody could get some why should he be the one to stop them?
“How about you?” Her hands slipped beneath his shirt and trailed up his chest.
“Never.�
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She kissed his chin, then brought her open mouth to his, immediately finding his tongue and tangling theirs together. “Then let’s fix that,” she said as she tugged his shirt over his head.
A carnal groan ripped from his mouth as her mouth landed on his chest, and she kissed a fiery path down and then back up. His body was hot and heavy with desire, and he grabbed her face and crushed his lips to hers.
He shoved her top out of the way and unsnapped her bra, yanking it off her and discarding it on the floor. He pressed his palm to her chest and dragged it between her breasts, down her silky skin to her navel. Her body arched, and he dipped his head, taking her taut nipple between his teeth.
She cried out, fueling his hunger as he licked and sucked the pebbled bead. He moved down her body, worshipping every freckle, every dimple, and every perfect inch. When he hit the waistband of her pants, he placed her legs around his neck. “Lift up,” he said.
She did as he asked, and he supported her weight on his shoulders while she used the bar. He pulled one pant leg off and then the other, adding the scrubs to the growing pile on the floor.
With a smile, he yanked her black lace panties aside and dragged his finger through her slick folds. Her body curved toward him and he descended to taste her. When his tongue touched her swollen bundle of nerves, her body bucked and a cry ripped from her mouth.
He kept his focus there, devouring her with lavishly quick motions of his tongue until her body shook with unreleased pleasure. He could feel her coming to the edge, but he wanted to ride the crest of that wave together. If she was going over, he was going with her. He stood and spun her around, kicking her legs apart and massaging the round curve of her ass. He kissed her neck and nibbled on her lobe. His fingers hooked into the material of her top, and he pulled it over her head, leaving her in nothing more than lace panties.
“You do realize,” she said, pausing as his tongue swirled around the crook of her neck, “you’re bringing my fantasy to life right now.”
All blood rushed to his core and his cock pressed uncomfortably against his jeans. “Tell me about it.”
“Why when we just played it out?”
“I’m sure it didn’t end here. What happens next?” He retrieved a condom and tossed his wallet on the bar, pressing his mouth to the gentle curve of her ear. “Tell me so I can make it come true.”
“You take me,” she said. “Just like this.”
His body vibrated with need and desire, and he inhaled a deep breath to control the desperate need to fuck her hard and fast.
He ran a hand up her ass to the adorable indents in her back. He lowered his mouth to her ear. “Hold on.”
Her hands gripped the bar stool, her ass sticking up in the air as she waited for him. It was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen, and he took a minute to admire her. He pushed his jeans down, slipped the condom on, and swiped the head of his engorged erection against her slick folds.
She yelled out as he thrust into her, his hand holding the slender part of her waist. The bar stool rocked with the force, and he wrapped his arm beneath her chest and pulled her body to his. She arched into him, his hands molding her perfect breasts as he continued a steady pace.
He kissed her neck, taking in her vanilla scent. He grabbed her face and turned her to him, and before he could capture her lips with his, she was kissing him like her damn life depended on it.
His pace quickened, her kisses became more frantic, and then they were both screaming out as they reached the peak and fell over the edge.
Declan turned her around, wanting to see her face. Her blue eyes tunneled deep into him and any thoughts about leaving town were gone. He couldn’t leave her even if he tried.
Chapter 14
Sex at Calhoun’s had been unexpectedly amazing, and Layla didn’t think anything could top that until they got back to her place and went for round two. This time they managed to make it to her bedroom and now she lay, her head rested against his chest, his big strong hand against the small of her back. His chest rose and fell with each calming breath, and she relished in the aftermath.
She drew a lazy finger along the tattoos on Declan’s arms and chest. There were so many, she couldn’t decide which one to look at first. Her eyes kept getting drawn to the black boxes of ink on his chest and shoulder. She traced a line around the one on his chest. “Ex-girlfriend?”
“No. I have never tattooed a girl’s name on me, and I won’t unless I knew it was forever.”
She liked his answer, but that still didn’t explain the random blacked out sections on his skin. “Well, you’re either covering something up or you went into the tattoo shop and was like ‘Yes, I like black boxes, I’d like to put one on my body.’”
He laughed. “I can tell you that definitely didn’t happen.”
“What’s the real story?”
He took her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing her knuckles before pressing her hand onto his chest. “Something from my past I don’t want to remember.”
She inclined her head with thin veiled irritation. “I thought we were past the mysterious act.”
His hand cupped her cheek and she nuzzled into it. “I told you the other night.”
She propped herself up on her elbow and met his dark gaze. “Told me what?”
He focused his attention on the ceiling. “About my past.”
“No, you didn’t. I would have remembered that much.” There were still holes in her memory, thanks to Old Man Simpson’s moonshine, but she’d remember if Declan had finally opened up to her. She’d only been waiting for what felt like an eternity to know more about who he was and where he came from.
He turned his head and smirked. “Unbeknownst to me, you were knocked out cold.”
“What you’re saying is… you bore your heart to me, and I slept through it?” Didn’t that figure? She barely slept, and the one time she needed to be awake, she wasn’t.
“Something like that.”
Her finger circled around a skull with a bandana riding a motorcycle. An eagle flew overhead holding a banner in its talons that read Ride to live. Live to ride. “Then tell me again.”
If he’d told her once, there was no reason why he couldn’t again, especially now. She felt closer to him with each passing day, and she hoped he felt the same. She would trust him with her life, and she needed him to know he could trust her with his.
He ran a hand over his face, tugging at the edges of his beard. She pulled his hand away from his face and linked their fingers together, needing him to feel their connection. “Please,” she said.
His chest rose and fell in long, deep breaths. His hand tightened on hers and he held it to his chest. “I told you how my dad wasn’t exactly the greatest father figure in the world and how he was killed.”
She nodded, purposely not saying a word. She didn’t want to say anything that would sidetrack him. It was her time to listen.
“He was in a motorcycle club. Have you ever heard of them?”
“We have a lot of clubs come through here during bike week. Most of the bikers I’ve encountered are really nice.” Every June the towns in the area would fill with bikers and other than the traffic, Layla never had a bad experience. Everyone was just out to have a good time. There were a few that would get rowdy, but that was with any group of people when alcohol was involved.
Declan let out a breath and sat up, giving her no choice but to move. She pulled the blanket to her chest and faced him.
“This wasn’t a let’s get together on Sunday and ride together club. It was an outlaw motorcycle gang, though they hated to be called a gang. Outlaws make their own rules, and they don’t follow society’s rules like everyone else. They did a lot of illegal things, and it was something I was born into. By the time my dad died, I knew too much, and with nowhere else to go, I stayed. The guys in the club looked out for me, but some stuff went down and I left.” He took her hand. His touch stirred awareness deep in her chest. She had n
o idea what he was telling her, if he himself took part in illegal activity or just idly sat by while it went down, but it didn’t matter. She was in love with him, and there was nothing that would keep her away from him.
“It’s in the past.” He nodded, but didn’t say anything else. “So why are these blacked out?” she asked, realizing he never did answer her question.
“In an OMG, you have to earn your ink. Only full patched members can get them. If you leave the club on good terms you can keep them; the club will always be a part of you.”
He went quiet again, the room filling with that uncomfortable silence she hated.
“You didn’t leave on good terms?” she asked.
“No.”
She had so many questions running through her mind. The only thing she knew about motorcycle clubs was what she’d heard when Maxine was binge watching Sons of Anarchy. Layla never had the time or the desire to watch the show. It was too violent for her taste. Now she wished she’d watched at least an episode or two.
“So they made you black out the tattoos?” she asked, trying to figure out the bigger puzzle and feeling so close yet still not grasping the whole thing.
“I did it on my own. If I gave them the choice, I have a feeling black ink wouldn’t have been enough.” There was a sinister look in his eyes that terrified her.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I’m lucky.” He snaked his big hand around her waist. “Now come here,” he said and positioned her on top of him. His hands ran up her bare stomach, sending a shudder through her body.
She still had questions, so many unexplained things she couldn’t wrap her head around, but he leaned up, capturing her nipple between his teeth, and her mind went to liquid. The questions might be done for now, but she wasn’t going to stop asking until she knew he had nothing left to hide.
Chapter 15
Declan closed down for the night. Layla was working a double, so his plans consisted of heading home, throwing back a beer, and passing out. He reached for the light when the door opened, and O’Reilly stepped in.
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