Instead of doing anything sexual—unbuttoning her jeans and touching her clit—he laced the fingers of both their hands together and brought them to the small of her back. His whiskers brushed against the side of her neck over and over again over the taut tendons. She shivered uncontrollably, needing him to touch her somewhere that counted.
“Answer me. You like to watch.”
“Yes.” Her voice came out in a hiss.
“Do you want to do that? Do you want a dick other than mine?”
She didn’t. But watching the woman in front of her be fully taken as Rhoades moved up the blonde’s body and unbuttoned his jeans, a satisfied flush on the exposed parts of her made her need Travis to touch her everywhere. She wanted to roll around in the sensuality displayed by the tableau in front of her.
She shook her head. “I want your dick.”
“Right here? Right now? You want me to bend you over and fuck you until you scream while they stuff her full of cock?”
Skyler nodded. She could feel from the hardness of his erection at her back that he was turned on by the idea, too. Every time he asked her another dirty question, she could feel the vibration of his chest against her almost-bare upper back. She wanted his heat against her naked skin with a kind of desperation that had her writhing against his hold.
“But we don’t want to disturb them, do we? Shouldn’t she get hers? If you distract Rhoades and Duster with how pretty you are when you come, they’ll have to stop fucking her to watch you. That wouldn’t be fair, would it, babe?”
“Mmmm. No.”
Travis released her hands. “Don’t move. If you move, I’ll stop.”
Skyler studiously kept her hands clenched at her lower back even though she yearned to reach into Travis’s jeans and pull out his cock. He ran his hands over her front and cupped her breasts. He nipped at her shoulder when she whimpered.
“Keep quiet.” She bit her lip to follow his order.
Without him saying it, she knew he’d stop if she made another sound. And she’d do anything to have him touch her. All the uncertainty about their future flew out the window when he touched her. His alpha male grouchiness flipped every single one of her damned switches. If they stayed together, she would have to start dreaming up reasons to piss him off so he would bend her over the back of the couch when he got home from work. So he’d give her that big cock just how she liked it. How they both liked it.
He rubbed the skin just above the top of her jeans and toyed with the button. He undid the button and zipper and put his hand into the top of her panties. She pumped her hips toward him, urging him to move his fingers where they’d do her some good instead of ramping up her desire for him. But he kept up his slow torture, rubbing just above her pubic bone until she was almost desperate enough to turn away from the scene in front of her.
The other woman moaned around Duster’s cock as Rhoades plowed into her with enough force to shake the bench she was balanced on.
Skyler needed Travis inside her. Just as she was about to beg, his finger found her clit and she wanted to scream with relief.
He took his time, a few touches right where she needed him, and then he’d pet her for a while. More touching until she was about to come apart and then he’d stop with just his hand against her mound. He did it over and over, until she had to tense every muscle in her body to keep from writhing. To keep still so he would just let her come.
Then he didn’t stop. “Wanna tease you like this all the time. I want to wake you up with my cock inside you every goddamn day. I fucking need you, Carrots.”
The nickname didn’t throw her off. Just a few more touches, and she went over. He put his other hand over her mouth, capturing her cries.
When she regained her senses, she grabbed for his belt buckle. He moved out of the way and said, “Later, babe. After the party’s over, I’m going to take you home and give you my dick ten times harder than Rhoades is giving it to her.”
“Please.”
He laughed softly. “I love how desperate you are for it. But I gotta be a good host, don’t I? Go get cleaned up and we’ll say our goodbyes.”
With that, he pulled the zipper up on her jeans and patted her ass as he pushed her toward the bathroom.
21
Travis left the garage and leaned against the building for a few minutes, willing his dick to calm down. Skyler’s desire left him raw and wanting. He wanted to throw everyone the fuck off his land and drag her by the hair back to his place, her trailer, anywhere he could pound into her until she admitted how much she needed him: as much as he craved her.
He’d thought having her every way that his imagination could offer up would rid him of his feelings for her. But every time she gave over to him, he fell further into her. Deeper under her spell.
He rubbed his chest, trying to dissolve the ache residing there. He had to lock things down with her so he could focus on how to get rid of Deacon and the Diablos’ drug operation. Focus on his job. If Skyler felt secure in their relationship, then maybe she could just make good wine, be happy, and forget about the past. Might make her ex-boyfriend irrelevant.
Speak of the devil, Ian and Michael stumbled out behind the garage. Both deep in their cups, they didn’t notice him. Ian seemed more out of it than Michael; although it was just dark, Travis watched Michael move toward Ian as if his intentions were sexual.
Curious, Travis didn’t move to rejoin the party. He liked Michael, but he still didn’t like how cavalier Skyler’s best friend was with the people around him.
Michael pushed Ian against the wall and buried his face in the other man’s neck. Ian didn’t seem to mind. Travis wondered if Skyler knew that Ian swung both ways. She probably didn’t know her ex was making out with her best friend. Selfishly, Travis hoped it wouldn’t bother her anymore. That she couldn’t care less what Ian did with his dick. He shouldn’t be watching this regardless.
Travis stepped out from the shadows and cleared this throat. “Guys?”
Michael immediately pushed himself away from Ian. “This isn’t—”
Ian said, “I’m not a fag.”
Charming. Travis had a hard time believing both Skyler and Michael had feelings for this douche.
“I don’t give a fuck, but some of the other guys aren’t as cosmopolitan as me.” Travis shrugged. “Country boys, you know.”
“I was just about to push him off me. I’m not into dudes,” Ian said savagely. Michael looked crestfallen.
“I don’t give a shit. I was just looking out for my girl.”
Ian pushed off the side of the building and approached Travis, stumbling a little.
“She’s not your girl for long.”
Travis didn’t say anything. He lifted an eyebrow. He would say something if Ian got too close, but he would say it with his fists.
“She’s depending on me to make a success of this stupid…” Ian motioned with his hands. His large movements belied his drunkenness. “Winery thing. You can’t give her what she needs—to get the fuck out of this one-stoplight town.”
Travis’s throat clenched, and his feet stuck to the ground where he stood. “She tell you that?”
“Yeah. During our long, intimate dinner. She won’t even say she’s your girlfriend, you know that? Do you think she’s going to change her mind about bikers and marry you? You’re going to end up in prison. Just like her dad.”
Travis remained quiet. A muscle in his cheek twitched. He clenched his fists, struggling not to lose his temper. Skyler might be more comfortable with the guys and his lifestyle, but she wouldn’t like to see him lose it all over her “friend” and business associate. Beating the shit-eating smirk off this fucker’s face wasn’t going far toward keeping her on the back of his bike, but at the moment, he didn’t care very much.
Ian wasn’t stupid. Behind the glassy, drunken gaze there was the realization he’d found Travis’s weak spot. “This.” He motioned toward Michael, who was sitting on the ground, head leaned back
against the building. “He’s just a convenient hole until I get her back—and maybe even after.”
“Want to talk shit like that to me in the ring?” Travis gestured at the patch of dirt where the Sinners fought sometimes, mostly because it was fun. This wasn’t fun. This was about making sure that not only was Travis swinging a bigger dick, but that he was superior to Ian as a man in every way. Fighting Ian in the ring would make it more public and painful for the other guy, but he wouldn’t be able to say Travis attacked him later.
Ian took a few hesitant steps toward him. “Sure you can handle me? I boxed in college.”
Travis snorted. “You should be worried more about that pretty face.” He turned around and walked toward the ring. No one was fighting, but the grassless patch was lit up just waiting.
Travis’s blood rushed in his ears at the thought of staining the dirt with Ian’s blood. The other Sinners noticed them walking over and gathered around. He took off his cut and tossed it at Chevy, who caught it. He ripped his T-shirt off with one hand over the back of his head and threw it to the ground.
Ian followed him, but he kept his shirt on. He rolled up his shirtsleeves, though. Fucking dandy.
They danced around each other as the rest of the party closed them in. Travis heard the noise of people who’d been partying for hours, probably some of them taking or placing bets.
But he was too angry to pay them much attention. The casual fuckery this guy had tossed at him made him want to tear his head off, and that made him pause. He was going to hurt this guy, and Skyler hadn’t seen this side of him. She would think he beat on Ian because they used to date. That wasn’t it; this guy’s existence offended him, and the only way to rectify that offense was to break his fucking face.
“I always knew she’d go back to the gutter.” Ian sneered at him.
He thought wine country—God’s country—was the gutter? Fuck that, not only was he a prick, but he was stupid as fuck. Dude probably liked Manhattan, or the Hamptons—places that made Travis’s skin feel tight.
“I always knew she couldn’t stay away from her father’s lifestyle.” Travis wanted to hear how much he would say before knocking him out. “Best thing about her was the thirst.”
“Watch it, pretty boy.”
“So desperate for approval. Made her so hot in bed.”
Travis didn’t know he was going to lunge at Ian until the other guy hit the ground with a thud and he’d drawn back his fist. He didn’t bother to stop his fist from hitting his face with a satisfying crunch, noticing nothing through the murky, black rage that filled him. He hadn’t been this angry since his brother died; he’d gone postal on anyone who so much as looked at him wrong right after that happened and Skyler left. Starting the Sinners had calmed his shit down. But this time, he wasn’t sure if he’d stop before this smug motherfucker was dead.
He hit Ian over and over. He didn’t feel his knuckles growing bloody, but he saw the bruises blooming on the other man’s face. He felt the asshole’s jaw crack and saw blood streak over his mouth.
He heard Skyler scream, and finally looked up.
Skyler left the garage and saw the scene she’d been dreading since that first night in the back of Ed’s. She’d never seen Travis like this. He hadn’t shown her the brutality that came along with this life. But it had simmered below the surface the whole damn time. Wrapped up in leather and lying next to her in bed until it lulled her into a sense of safety.
In that moment, Travis straddled the other man’s body, and punched him with the rhythm of a machine. Ian lay motionless, not even trying to get the upper hand.
She had no regard for herself as she ran over to the two men. She wasn’t sure what she was more afraid of, that Travis would kill Ian and end up in prison like her dad or that this was who he really was.
She felt arms around her waist and somewhere in her brain she realized it was Duster holding her back from the melee.
“Shhh, love. Chevy’s got him.” She still fought him, watching as Chevy finally pulled Travis off her ex-boyfriend. Only then did she notice Michael sat on the ground, not too far away from the scrum, with his head in his hands.
Her gaze met her best friend’s and she knew she had to get him out of there. She would deal with Travis later. Whatever he had to say for himself, they were done. She couldn’t be with a man who settled things with his fists. This biker shit—the fighting, the violence, whatever he had going on with Deacon—this was not what she wanted. But she’d gone into a relationship with Travis anyway. And he’d not only destroyed their relationship, he’d likely ended her business relationship with Ian.
She kicked Duster in the shin.
“What the fuck was that for?” He loosened his grip on her arms long enough for her to get away. Most of the people still at the party had gathered to watch Travis brutalize Ian, but only Chevy had intervened. The blonde from inside was conspicuously absent. She was probably recovering. Or servicing someone else.
She would have laughed out loud at that if she weren’t so worried about Michael. He looked wrecked, and not just drunk. His usually ebullient presence was deflated and she worried she’d have to carry both him and Ian to the car.
Thank God, she was sober enough to drive. She hadn’t had more than one beer over the course of the afternoon, and the interlude with Travis, which she couldn’t think about at the moment, filled her with energy.
She made it over to Michael, and she pulled on his arm to get him up off the ground. “C’mon, sweetheart. We’ve got to go.” Her concern grew when he barely budged. “You gotta get up. We have to go before the cops get here.”
“Carrots, baby. What are you doing?”
She finally looked over at Travis. His eyes were wild and his hair was sticking out at all angles. His knuckles were bloody and his chest heaved. The adrenaline from the fight still made his muscles twitch and ripple.
“Leaving.”
“Why?” He motioned toward Ian, who was trying—and failing—to lever himself off the ground. He’d shuffled away from Travis. Probably a good move. Maybe she could pull her truck up and she and Michael could put Ian in the back.
Travis was done with him, wasn’t he?
Skyler threw up her hands. “This.”
“This isn’t what it looks like.”
“You weren’t beating the shit out of my business partner?” She clenched her fists, ready to hit him. And her voice sounded thready in her own ears.
“I was but—baby—you didn’t hear him. And he agreed to fight.”
She put her hands up when he moved toward her. If he touched her, she wasn’t sure she could stand her ground. He needed to stay away from her. She didn’t want to smell him—the sweat and motor oil mixed with testosterone and blood. She didn’t want to admit, even though he’d probably just fucked up her life in a major way, that deep down his raw physicality attracted her all along.
“It doesn’t matter what he said. There’s no excuse for beating a guy up just because of what he said.”
“Why don’t you ask Michael? He was—”
Michael got to his feet, just in time.
“I’ll hear what I need to from him. After we leave.” Ian had pulled himself to a sitting position. Chevy loomed over him. Could this situation get any worse? Probably not. But she had to get them out of here. She searched the group for a friendly face. Her gazed lighted on Bishman. He would help her; he had to.
“Uncle Bish?”
The gods took mercy on her because the older man edged Chevy out of the way with his shoulder and picked up Ian underneath his arms. Ian made a pitiful noise and gave over to being carried by the other man. Bishman wasn’t gentle with the guy, but didn’t do him any harm, either.
She managed to get Michael off the ground, and he stumbled over to the truck with her help. Bishman followed with a bruised Ian. She got both Ian and Michael into the truck before Travis interfered with her escape. Ian lay in the truck bed—a place she couldn’t even look at wit
hout aching for Travis.
Sitting would be too painful for him. Skyler worried about whether or not she should get him to a hospital. In that moment, she didn’t want to think about anything else but getting the hell out of there. She’d kid herself into thinking Travis could be good for her. That they could work.
He was just like her dad; he solved problems with violence. Except he was even more dangerous because he didn't think about the animal inside him before it slipped the leash. She couldn’t think about that right now. She needed to think about going back to the trailer, crawling into her bed, and not getting out until she’d figured out how to fix her damn life.
Travis caught her arm as she opened the door to her truck. “We have to talk.”
She spun on him. “There’s nothing to say. You punched out my business partner, and God knows what you did to my best friend. He’s catatonic. I don’t care what you say about how your club is different. You’re all fucking poison.”
“You don’t know what that fucker said—”
“And I don’t care.” She got in her truck and slammed the door, hoping the thing wouldn’t fall off.
“You drive away without talking about this and—”
She turned the key in the ignition once, but it didn’t turn over. “You’ll what? Drag me into a dark corner and fuck me into submission? Get your name branded on my ass?” She turned the key again and the engine sprang to life. Thank goodness. “Lock me in your bedroom so other men can’t even look at me?”
His gaze hardened, his eyes blank and empty. There was no anger there. Not even bloodlust. She would have shivered from the cold of the look on his face if her temper didn’t threaten to boil over into something that scared her.
“Nothing.” His voice was ice cold; an hour ago, it would have shaken her. “If you leave, don’t bother to come back.”
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