Make It Hurt (Texas Bounty)

by Jackie Ashenden

  You don’t know if she wants this. She hasn’t said yes yet.

  Well, sure, but after what had happened between them out in her kitchen, he was pretty confident she would agree. What was there not to like, after all?

  In fact, now he thought about it, she could even move in with him since that would solve a number of problems. She’d be there for him 24/7, with the added advantage of a bigger shower, a bigger bed—hell, bigger everything. And she’d love living there, he knew she would. Far better than this shithole. Hell, he had all the walls she’d ever need to start her very own art collection.

  Uh, you’re forgetting one thing. Dust.

  Smith let out a breath, trying to ignore the sudden lurch in his gut. Christ, he couldn’t pretend that wasn’t a problem, not anymore. Acting as if it had all been about one good fuck was one thing, but unfortunately, Nora was quite another.

  Because it wasn’t just about a good fuck. He could get a decent screw from any number of women, but Nora was Nora. Smart, tough, vulnerable. Sexy as hell.

  He wouldn’t have obeyed orders from just anyone, not the way he’d obeyed her out in her kitchen, keeping his gaze on hers the way she’d told him to.

  And the way she’d looked at him…

  The way she always looked at you. Like you weren’t the piece of dirt Dad always said you were.

  He scowled. No, shit, he’d never believed that. Anyway, it was his father who was the piece of dirt, not him. Because what kind of father turned his back on his injured kid? A shitty one, that’s what kind.

  The problem was and always had been Tucker Smith Senior, not his son.

  The water shut off in the bathroom and he lifted his head as Nora came to the open doorway, wrapped in a small, white towel. Her hair was wet down her back, her skin glistening with moisture, and his dick was immediately interested, despite everything they’d done to each other the night before.

  “Finally,” he said, pushing thoughts of his asshole father out of his head. “I thought you’d never come out. Get over here.”

  She smiled. “Sorry, Ace. I’ve got to be at work in a half hour. Duchess will be pissed if I’m late again.”

  Well, that was a pain in the ass. “I’ll write you a note.”

  “I don’t think that’s going to work. Pity.”

  “Fine. Tonight. You and me. My place. I’ll even cook.”

  Something flared in her eyes, something that wrapped around his heart and didn’t let go. “This was only supposed to be an extra night, remember?”

  “Have you forgotten what I asked you already?” He didn’t hide the rough edge of demand in his voice. “Or do you need a reminder?”

  She leaned a shoulder against the doorframe, her mouth curving in a smile that somehow wrapped around his dick as well. “Wow, you’re a bear in the mornings.”

  “And you’re a teasing bitch.” Impatient, he came off the bed and prowled over to where she stood, grabbing her by the hips and drawing her close. “Answer me, dammit.” She smelled of soap and flower-scented shampoo, and he wanted to push her up against the wall, fuck all this talking bullshit quite literally.

  Nora laughed, her hands coming down to cover his on her hips. “If you weren’t so easy to get a rise out of—in both senses of the word, ahem—I wouldn’t be a teasing bitch.”

  “Nora.” He leaned in to nip at the side of her neck in warning. “If you don’t want me to make you very late for work, you’d better give me a fucking answer.”

  She shivered deliciously against him, making him contemplate pulling her towel away and giving her another reminder of why this was an excellent idea. “So…what? You want to start dating again?”

  He let out a short laugh. “Baby, I don’t ‘date.’ ”

  “Then what exactly do you mean about trying again?”

  He tightened his grip and looked down into her wide brown eyes. “How’s this for an example? You ditch this shithole and move in with me, and we see how it goes.”

  She blinked rapidly. “Uh…hang on. You mean you want me to move out of my apartment and move in with you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “When?”

  “Now’s good.”

  “Seriously?” A crease appeared between her brows. An unwelcome crease. “That’s…uh…one hell of a jump, Smith.”

  Her less than enthusiastic response irritated him and he found himself glaring back. “I want you, Nora, so what’s the point of pissing around? Hell, we’ve wasted eight years already.”

  “I suppose so.” She let out a little breath, her body warm and relaxed against his. “We could discuss the whole moving in together part, though, right?”

  “We can discuss it, sure.” And by “discuss” he meant screwing her silly until she came around to his way of thinking.

  “Well, I guess there’s no reason not to at least try.” Her hands smoothed over his bare chest, cool and light. “There’s just one other little problem.”

  Every muscle in his body tightened, because he knew damn well what that little problem was.

  Nora tilted her head back and looked up at him. “What’s happening with Dust, Smith?”

  Ah, Christ. Fucking reality.

  Remember what you said about how much you loved her stubbornness?

  He gritted his teeth. Maybe he didn’t love it as much as he thought. “This isn’t about Dust. This is about us. This is about me asking you if you wanna move in with me.” He didn’t love asking either, not now that he was beginning to realize how much he actually wanted her to say yes. Not now that there was a possibility of “no.” He forced a grin. “Hey, I can make it worth your while.”

  She stared up at him, searching his face as if she was looking for something. “I know it’s not about Dust. But that doesn’t change the fact that we have a conflict of interest. I really need to have that sorted out before I make any decisions.”

  A cold, sharp thread of unfamiliar disappointment wound through him.

  Double fuck. Now he was left in exactly the same place he had been the previous day. Except it was worse, because now he knew what he wanted.

  He wanted Nora. He wanted her to move in with him.

  Guess you’d better figure out what’s more important to you: her or your fucking club.

  “Doesn’t have to be a conflict of interest,” he said, easing her closer to him as if that would stop her from slipping away. “I’ve got enough money for you to quit working with Duchess. You could go back to college and get that art history degree you wanted, go work in a gallery.”

  She stiffened. “Please tell me you didn’t just suggest that I give up my job for you.”

  Good move, asshole.

  He ignored the thought. “Hey, I only meant if it’s a conflict of interest you’re worried about, then that’s easily fixed.”

  “Or, here’s a thought.” She was scowling now, her body rigid against him. “You could just give Dust up.”

  The disappointment became sharper. Because that was the one thing he couldn’t and wouldn’t do. Dust was his friend and his VP. His brother, both in honor and in the club. And brothers always came first. Always.

  Why not just lay it out for her? Maybe she’d understand.

  Yeah, and then she’d find out he’d been lying to her, that he’d never had any intention of giving her Dust. That would go down real well. About as well as a lead balloon.

  Smith let her go and turned away abruptly, going over to where he’d left his jeans and underwear, pulling them on.

  Come on. She laid it all out for you. Can’t you do the same?

  “Well?” she asked into the tense silence. “You are going to hand him over, aren’t you?”

  He kept his back to her as he zipped up his fly and reached for his T-shirt, tugging that over his head and down, using the act of dressing to give himself a moment.

  There was no way to avoid this. Sure, he could string her along for another couple of days maybe, but if he wanted them to try being together again, he wa
s going to have to come clean.

  Jesus, he was a stupid bastard. He should have told her earlier and he hadn’t. He’d just wanted her and had been willing to do anything to have her, even lie. He hadn’t ever thought he’d want more, but the past few days had showed him that not only had he been lying to her, he’d been lying to himself.

  One night was never going to be enough.

  “Smith?”

  Stop being a little bitch and tell her.

  He took a breath and turned, meeting her pretty golden brown eyes. “No,” he said flatly, so there was no room for doubt. “I’m not.”

  She blinked, as if she didn’t quite understand. “What do you mean you’re not?”

  He didn’t want to explain himself, to air club business, but he’d told her last night she deserved everything and an explanation was the very least of it. “Dust was in my unit in Afghanistan. He’s an army buddy. He’s also my brother and my vice president.” Smith held her gaze so she understood completely. “I’m not turning a brother over to the cops. Not for you. Not for anyone.”

  She blinked again, like she still didn’t get it. “But…you said you’d give him to me.”

  He didn’t like the look on her face, that shock. “I know what I said. I lied.”

  Color was slowly leaching from her cheeks, her eyes going dark. “Why? Just to get into my pants?”

  A feeling slid through him, that somehow he was destroying something important, had deliberately put his boot through one of the paintings she loved, ruining the canvas beyond repair.

  His jaw tightened. “No, shit, if it had just been about that, I wouldn’t be standing here right now. And I fucking wouldn’t be asking you to move in with me.”

  She pulled her towel closer around her, staring at him as if he’d slapped her. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before? Why did you let me believe you’d make good on your promises?”

  “Because you wouldn’t have fucking listened.” Defensive anger had begun to gather inside him now. “You were ready to shoot me, remember?”

  “So you thought lying to me was better?”

  “Yeah, because you would have walked the fuck away.”

  Nora stiffened even more. “That’s you all over, though, isn’t it? It’s always about what you want. It’s always your way or the highway.”

  His anger knotted tighter. No, he didn’t want this. He didn’t want a fight, not here, not now. He wanted her in his arms and in his bed. Living with him.

  He started toward her, aiming to stop the argument from escalating in the time-honored way—with his mouth—but she suddenly backed away, as if he was a dangerous dog. “Don’t.”

  Smith stopped. “Look,” he said, trying to keep his voice calm, “if I hadn’t done that, we’d never have had those nights together. We’d never have talked, never have sorted out the shit from the past. Don’t you think it’s worth it for that alone?”

  She’d folded her arms across her chest, all defensive. “But you lied, Smith. You lied to get your own way. You could have just told me straight up that you couldn’t give me Dust. You could have let me make my own decision and you didn’t.”

  Smith moved, unable to help himself, propelled by anger and something else he couldn’t name, a need to somehow close the distance he could sense opening up between them. Coming right up to her, getting in her face. “Oh no, don’t put that on me, sweetheart.” He crowded her back against the bedroom wall. “We both know what your decision would have been. You’re too good at ignoring what you really want. You would have run the fuck away.”

  She stared at him, in no way cowed, anger and something that looked like hurt glittering in her eyes. “You have no idea whether that would have been my decision or not. You didn’t give me a choice.”

  Christ, why couldn’t she back down? Just this one time, that’s it. But no. She had to fight. She had to make an easy decision complicated.

  You liked that about her.

  No, he didn’t. Right now he hated it.

  He curled his fingers into fists, as if doing that would help him hold onto his patience. “This doesn’t have to be a big deal. Get Duchess to hand his bond over to someone else and then it’s not your problem anymore.”

  Her eyes went wide. “What? That’s your answer? Jesus, Smith. Duchess is a friend and that prick was blackmailing her! I’m not going to let him get away with something like that. He needs to be damn well locked up and I want to be the one to put him in a fucking cell.”

  “Then you’re gonna have to lock me up too,” he snarled, losing patience entirely. “Because you can have him over my dead fucking body.”

  The look in her eyes flared. “That can be arranged, Ace, believe me.”

  A blistering silence fell as they stared at each other, anger pulsing in the air between them.

  Nora put a hand to her forehead, rubbing at the skin there as if she had a headache, and he had a sudden desire to put his hand there too, to soothe her.

  “Okay,” she said in quieter voice. “There has to be a way around this. I mean…” Her gaze caught his. “I want you, Smith. I feel like there’s potential here. Like we could have what we had before, only better.”

  Yeah, and they could. If only she wasn’t being so fucking stubborn.

  She’s not the only one.

  He gritted his teeth, trying to be calm and not do what he was desperate for, which was to pick her up, take her down to his bike, go back to his place, and keep her there, no matter what she wanted. “Yeah, and we could,” he growled, “if you leave Dust out of this.”

  Her jaw got tight, which was a bad sign. “I can’t, asshole. He broke the law. He has to answer for that.”

  “And I don’t give a fuck about the law.” Frustration gathered inside him. “Dust was with me in Afghanistan. He was my buddy, he had my back. And I have his. That’s the way it fucking works. Why can’t you understand that?”

  “Sure, I understand. The way you feel about Dust, I feel about Duchess. She was there for me when no one else goddamn was. She got me out of the crappy bar I was working in, gave me a better job. Christ, she believed in me, Smith.” The gold in Nora’s eyes glittered with the same frustration. “And now it’s my turn to help her. She wants Dust put away, so I’m going to put him the hell away.”

  Jesus, she was so close. She smelled of soap and the delicate scent of her shampoo, and there were still droplets of water on her skin. He wanted to lick them off, taste her. He wanted to bury his fingers in her hair and kiss her, make her forget this stupid fucking argument.

  “So what you’re saying is that your job is more important?” he demanded, wanting to be absolutely clear. “That Duchess comes first?”

  Her mouth, normally so soft-looking, had flattened into a hard line. “Well, isn’t that what you’re saying too? That your buddy, your club, come before everything else?”

  “Yeah, of course they do. That’s just the way it is.” He couldn’t believe she was actually questioning this. The MC was the MC and that’s how it worked.

  Her throat moved as she swallowed, something liquid shining briefly in her eyes. “Just the way it is,” she echoed. “Sure. I get it.”

  He went still, because it wasn’t anger in her gaze now, it was pain. “What? What do you ‘get,’ Nora?”

  “I get that there’s nothing I can say that’s going to make you change your mind.”

  Every muscle had gone tight, tension crawling up his back and shoulders. “Right back at ya, baby.”

  She was silent a moment, staring up at him, the anger and hurt in her face twisting like a knife inside him. “I want what we could have together, Smith.” There was a husky edge to her voice. “I want to try. But if I’m going to let down a friend for you, I need a reason.”

  He didn’t know what the fuck she was asking for. Hadn’t these past few days with each other given her all the reasons she needed?

  Don’t be such a tool. You know exactly what kind of reason she wants.

&nb
sp; Of course he did. She wanted the best reason of all, for him to tell her that he loved her. But that was the one thing he couldn’t and wouldn’t give her. He’d done that once and he wasn’t doing it again.

  Love was for pussies. For good boys who tried too hard and cared too much.

  And he wasn’t either of those things, not anymore.

  “Fine.” He pushed himself away from her abruptly. “Have it your way.”

  Turning his back on her, he stalked over to where he’d left his wallet and keys on the dressing table and collected them, shoving them down into his pockets, his fingers clenching with a rage that didn’t quite make sense.

  “Wait.” There were little cracks running through her voice and he couldn’t pretend he didn’t hear them. Couldn’t pretend he didn’t know what they meant. “What are you doing?”

  He turned back to her, pretending to be all casual even though his jaw was so tight he could probably have taken off beer caps with it. “I’m leaving, what does it fucking look like?”

  Her dark eyes searched his face and he ignored the pulling in his chest, the pain where his heart was. “You can’t give me a reason? Not even one?”

  “I gave you two damn nights of reasons,” he said flatly, ignoring the voice in his head telling him to shut the fuck up and stop making it worse. “And if that’s not enough for you, then too fucking bad.”

  Something glittered in her eyes, shiny and liquid. Tears.

  He tried not to see them.

  “No.” She blinked fiercely and looked away. “It’s not enough.”

  His heart tightened in his chest, almost as if he’d expected her to say something different, almost as if he’d wanted her to say something different.

  But she didn’t.

  “Suit yourself,” he said and stalked to the door.

  And she didn’t say a word as he stalked out.

  —

  Nora wrapped her arms around herself, as if she could keep herself together. Which was odd, because she wasn’t falling apart, no fucking way.