Needing Me, Wanting You

by C. M. Stunich

  “Ain't nobody heard nothin',” I say to him, daring him to question that shit.

  “I fell in love over years, and I'm the overly romantic one?” Gaine asks, shaking his head and ordering a beer for him and Mireya. I don't even look over at her ass. I think the bitch is smirking at me.

  “You better be talking about Austin and his little Miss Amy. Nobody said nothin' about love.” I steal Gaine's drink when it comes to him and order another. “So fuck off, and shut your damn mouth.”

  “But you really do like this bitch?” Mireya asks, pouting her dark lips and running her tongue over the glossy lipstick she's wearing. Gaine watches her and shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Got to admit, it is kind of hot.

  “I do, so I asked for a few more days, alright? Is that what you want to hear?”

  “I was wondering,” Austin says, coming up from behind me and putting a hand on my shoulder. Amy and Christy aren't with him, so I'm assuming he got someone else to watch them for once. I don't need anybody to watch Tease. I'll know if someone tries to go up there. Trust me, I'll know. “Makes sense, I suppose. No more or less than me taking Amy in, but … ” He trails off and looks both excited and nervous at the same time. Dumb shit.

  “So now everybody knows. I kidnapped this girl yesterday and today, I don't like the thought of sending her back where she damn came from. Congratulations, y'all figured it out. You want a damn ribbon?” More folks start staring at us, but they can fuck off to their fancy party.

  “I'm goin' to make another phone call to Seventy-seven Brothers and discuss the arrangement,” Austin says, ignoring me and taking up the stool next to Kimmi. “I found a plaza not too far from here. It's public, surrounded by shops and is supposedly pretty fuckin' busy on a Monday.” He raises his blonde brows and gives me a look that I return with the finger. “Let's get this taken care of first, and then we'll deal with this all this other shit.” He wipes his hands down his face. “Can you even fucking believe Broken Dallas?”

  “I knew it from the first second I laid eyes on them,” Gaine says, squeezing his beer bottle with rigid fingers. He looks over at Mireya, but her expression is blank. I imagine she's tired of dealing with all this gender bullshit. I know all she cares about is riding and pimping out bikes. I actually feel bad that she has to deal with all this useless crap. “They're obviously being fed information, too. We still have a rat, and it wasn't Kent. It wasn't Melissa. How the fuck else would anyone have been able to find that house? It was the perfect hiding place.”

  “Broken Dallas is full of hot air. We stay away from them long enough and make sure not to cross paths in the future, and they'll go away. They are a Goddamn symptom, not the fuckin' disease. Gaine is right. We need to snuff out our rat before we plan this exchange.” I punctuate my statement with a swig of beer.

  Austin twirls his cell around in his fingers and crinkles his brows together.

  “How do we do that?” he asks, more to himself than to the rest of us. “We don't have a massive fucking group, but it's also not a walk in the park to investigate everybody.” He leans back and sets his phone down on the bar, tapping his fingers against the dark wooden countertop. I let my eyes trail across the wall of mirrors in front of us, covered in glass shelves and filled to capacity with liquor. It's hog heaven in here, that's for sure. I order another round. A moment later, Austin stops tapping his fingers and I watch as his spine gets stiff.

  “What?” Kimmi asks, turning to face him with a raised brow. “You come up with something?” We all pause in our drinking to stare at Austin and wait.

  “What if they're not just feedin' information?” he asks, his brown eyes darkening. “Do y'all remember who you actually saw at the shoot-out?”

  “I think we could all name names,” Gaine says, running his hand through his dark hair. “But not everybody was there anyway. What are you getting at? You think it really was one of us that shot Melissa?”

  “Could be our rat,” Austin says, spinning his phone around in a circle. “Think about it. Somebody's mad about Kent, doesn't like where we're going as a group. They stay in and start feeding information to Bested, to Broken Dallas. That confrontation with Seventy-seven Brothers was like icing on the fucking cake. The more I think about it, the more sense it makes.”

  “Only problem is, we didn't know they were coming until they showed up. Somebody had to have time to get up on the roof like that.” Kimmi makes a good point, but Mireya makes an even better one.

  “When Beck came back into the restaurant, we were the only people from the club still in there.” She pauses, dark eyes twinkling. I stand up from my seat because I can tell this shit is going to get ugly tonight. Mireya has an idea brewing up top. She lifts her face and smiles wickedly. “Except for one other person.”

  Beck

  Chapter 19

  Margot Tempe has a room on the third floor, almost directly across from mine. Just because I'm a paranoid motherfucker, I have to open my door and check in on Tease before we get down to business. When I look in on her, she's still fast asleep. I close my room door behind me and give Austin a nod.

  Kimmi refused to come upstairs with us, so we left her down in the bar, biting her nails and sucking on a bright pink drink that probably tastes as nasty as it looks. Nobody wants to think their former lover's a bad guy. I think that's why Melissa's still struggling with Kent's death. It's not hard to be deceitful under someone's nose when they're in love. Love is blind, remember?

  “This fucking sucks,” Gaine says as he stands to the right of the door. Mireya takes up the left side, and I step forward, taking the lead. I can tell Austin wants to do it, but he's President now. He has to learn to start delegating. According to Kimmi, Margot should be alone in here, so I'm not too worried. I doubt she'll even see this coming. If she's our rat. The more we worked through the evidence, the more sense it makes. Kimmi does have a bad habit of pissing off the ladies.

  I knock gently on the door, and wait patiently. A moment later, we hear the sound of the chain being pulled back, and then there she is, Miss Margot Tempe, smiling sexily at me. She's a little beauty, won't deny that, but I can't look at her without that cloud of suspicion hanging over her head.

  “Hi Beck,” she coos before noticing that I'm not alone. Her smile turns into a frown. “Is everything okay?”

  “There isn't another crisis if that's what you're worried about, but we do need to have a little chitchat. Mind if we come in?” She shrugs nonchalantly and takes a step back, opening the door into the dimly lit room. The only source of light comes from the TV, and let me tell you this, those flickering shadows are a man's worst nightmare. I turn the light on right away, not that I really think Margot's hiding anyone in her room, but it doesn't hurt to be cautious. Gaine, Mireya, and I all move to the side and let Austin take over. He's getting better at it which is nice. I have no desire to be the President myself.

  “Margot, mind if we talk to you for a minute about something?”

  “Of course not,” she says, sitting down in a pink chair with tan polka dots all over it. “Go ahead.” The girl's hair is short and dark, and she's dressed in a pair of shorts and a white tank. I can see the nipples on her itty-bitty titties through the fabric, but I'm not interested. Still caught up in Tease, wouldn't you know. Margot is so slight, I can hardly imagine her capable of riding a bike, let alone climbing a roof to shoot somebody. Then again, pretty sure she's been piggybacking around on other folks' bikes. I don't recall that she even has one of her own. And she's still wearing a prospect's jacket. I almost feel sorry for her, like the girl's been forgotten in all of the crap we been wadin' through. No excuses though. If she started this shit, she's going to have to pay.

  “I'm going to ask you straight, and I'd really like it if you just told me the truth,” Austin begins, laying it on her hard. “You lie to me and the consequences are going to hurt.” Margot wrinkles her brow and looks between us like she has no clue what's going on. Meanwhile, I start to drift around the room
, just in case I find somethin' interesting. “Did you shoot Melissa Diamond in the back?”

  “Wait, what?” Margot asks, blinking rapidly, the pulse in her throat fluttering. I pause in my search and just stare at her. Fuck. The girl's as guilty as a hangman at a rope convention. It's just too damn obvious. “Of course not! How … why are you even asking me this?”

  “Kimmi's a bitch, I get it,” I tell her, moving across the carpet and pausing in front of her chair. I tower over the woman, probably intimidating as hell, but that's alright. She deserves it. “Is that why you been feeding information to Bested by Crows and Broken Dallas?” Margot shakes her head.

  “I've been loyal to Triple M for years,” she says, which could very well be true.

  “Years, but not recently,” I press, stepping back when Austin gives me a look. Margot looks between me and him, letting tears build up in her eyes. It almost, almost makes me feel sorry for her again. I'm a sucker for women, I guess.

  “Did Kimmi ask you to do this? You know, she broke up with me just on the off chance she might be able to sleep with that Christy girl.” Margot shakes her head and wipes at the tears on her face. “The off chance. Why would she put you up to this? Why would you even do it? I'm already humiliated enough as it is.”

  “We're not trying to hurt you, sugar,” Austin says, bending down and putting his hand on her knee. “But we want the truth. You admit it now, and you can walk away.” I come this close to protesting, but hey, Austin's the President. It's not up to me to argue that shit. “You lie, and there are going to be other punishments, Margot. The shooter, whoever it was, got eighteen people killed unnecessarily. That is punishable by death in most circles.” He pauses and strokes her hair back from her forehead. “You don't want us to find evidence that proves our point. If you really are innocent, you've got nothing to worry about. But if you're lying … ” Austin trails off and stands up, looking over at me and nodding his head gently. “We'll give you some time to think about it.”

  He takes a step back and moves for the door handle.

  “Wait,” Margot begins, voice breaking on the single syllable. “Just wait. I'll tell you. I'll tell you, but you have to swear on the club that you'll let me go.”

  I grin wicked nasty, even though I don't mean to. Sometimes the cracked eggs are the easiest ones to break.

  Tease

  Chapter 20

  I wake up the next morning with Beck lying shirtless next to me. His body is a few careful inches away from mine, but I can still feel the heat radiating from his skin, teasing me, torturing me, and reminding me that I never got to finish yesterday. I stare at him, almost afraid to wake him. If I do, he might … I can't even fucking go there without flushing from head to toe. I roll onto my back and lay my arm across my forehead. Beck Evans. Triple M. It's odd when a fantasy comes to life and ends up meeting your expectations. Exceeding them even.

  I sigh and sit up, my body stiff as hell from sleeping in the corset and leather pants. At least Beck was a gentleman and left me as I was. It's already weird enough that we slept in the same bed together. I wasn't a prisoner this time, wasn't handcuffed. We were just sharing because … well, we're connected somehow now. I climb out of bed and undo the claps on the front of the bodice, peeling it away from my body with a sigh of relief and taking it into the bathroom with me. I strip off the pants next and drape both items over the toilet seat before climbing into the shower.

  Part of me is desperate for Beck to wake up and come find me in here, and the other part wishes he wouldn't. Monday. As in the day after tomorrow. That's when I'm going back home. I feel sick inside, like I'm on a vacation that's ending too soon. I don't want to leave Beck yet, not when I still have this incredible ache inside my stomach. If he comes in here, touches me again, how am I going to pull myself away? He's the most attractive man I've ever seen in my entire life. I don't envy trying to search for someone that lives up to him.

  “Crap,” I lay my forehead against the glass door of the shower and sigh heavily. And he's interested in me. Interested. I'm not exactly clear on what that means, but I'd like to find out. “Crap, crap, crap.” I finish up my shower quickly, determined to be done before Beck finds me, soapy and scalding hot.

  Unconsciously, I start to move a little bit slower.

  Holding back that orgasm yesterday has lit this slow burning fire in my lower parts. Even walking into the bathroom, I could feel my body rubbing, practically begging me to touch it. I haven't though. Not that I've got anything against masturbating, but Beck is here and willing … Or at least he would be if he wasn't still sleeping.

  I climb out of the shower to find him in bed, same position I left him. Damn it. I don't feel like we're on close enough terms that I could just go and wake him up for sex. I know realistically that he probably wouldn't mind, but it still seems weird. As I'm moving back down the short hallway to the bathroom, somebody grabs me from behind. My heart flutters in panic before I realize those scalding fingers burning against my flesh belong to Beck.

  “I thought you were sleeping,” I say as he pulls me back into the room and flings me on the bed, my white towel fluttering like a broken angel wing. I do my best to cover up my nakedness while Beck stands over me grinning.

  “I was waitin' for your ass, sugar tits.”

  “I like it best when you call me Emilie,” I tell him honestly and his grin morphs into a more gentle smile. “Not that it really matters.”

  “Oh, it matters alright,” he says, stripping his jeans off and letting them fall to the floor. Beck doesn't seem to have the same problem I do with flashing his naked body around. His cock is already hard and glistening with sweat. I don't know what it is about these fucking hotel rooms, but this one is just as warm as the last one, drenching Beck's entire muscular frame in little beads of moisture. I bite my lower lip as feelings surge deep within my belly. Oh my God. The man is built like a God, a statue chiseled in living flesh. His pecs are rock solid but not grotesquely oversized, tapering into a perfect belly with an eight pack and that incredibly irresistible 'V' shape of his oblique muscles. His thighs are thick without being beefy, much like his arms with that perfect swell of shoulder and bicep. And the tattoos? There's the pirate symbol, the skull and crossbones on his chest with the 'MMM' above it.

  I reach up a hand and run my fingers through my wet hair, trying to still my rapid breathing. I feel like I'm this close to panting at the man.

  “I want to call you what makes you hottest, darlin'. If it's Emilie you like, Emilie it is.”

  “What were you waiting for?” I ask him, even though I already know. He grins at me and moves forward, kneeling on the end of the bed and reaching out for the towel. I try to keep hold of it, but Beck's a hell of a lot stronger than me. It goes fluttering through the air and lands in a heap on the floor. Leaving me naked. Leaving me exposed. I put my hands over the spot of red hair between my legs. “I was in the shower that whole time.”

  Beck crawls forward and drapes his naked body over mine, burning me his nearness, making me gasp even though he isn't touching me.

  “Absence makes the heart grow fonder,” he growls into my ear, drawing back and pushing my knees apart. “Tell me you don't feel this, Emilie.” He presses a hand to my belly, rekindling that burn into a fire. Absently, I remember that we haven't used a single condom. Not one. I look up at Beck and find that I'm having a hard time breathing. I could ask him to use one now, but … I don't want him to. I want to feel his body bare against mine. Now that I've had it, I'm feeling selfish. I don't want a piece of latex separating us. Shit. Future Tease is going to have problems. Present Tease is living in the moment with Beck Evans and couldn't give a shit less.

  “Feel what?” My voice is a whisper as I watch him lower himself, sliding his arms under my thighs and reaching around them, using my hips as handles again. I'm going to be so, so sore there come Monday. I lean my head back into the pillow and relax my arms. I'm still not entirely comfortable with this, but he's wooe
d me into it, denying me yesterday, teasing me today. I just need something from him, and this is going to be it. I reach my hands up and grab onto the headboard.

  “The explosion,” he whispers against my pussy, his breath alone causing me to gasp and buck my hips. What if he's staring at it? Nobody's seen that, not even me. What the fuck am I thinking? But then Beck's lips press gently against my folds and I collapse into the bed, spine going limp, muscles turning to jelly. I groan so loud I'm sure the people in the next room can hear us. He starts out slow, kissing me gently down there, pressing his mouth to my inner thighs, my knees, and then working his way back until he lands on my clit. “The fuckin' magic,” he says, his words a physical force against my body, his breath teasing me to the point of tears.

  “Fuck me,” I whisper, trying not to sound like I'm begging for it. But I kind of am, so that's okay. “Just fuck me.” Beck laughs, and I almost scream. It feels so good it's almost painful.

  “Not yet. I told you, you ain't gettin' out of here without tasting all the flavors, honey.” More words, more breath, followed by more kisses. I bite my lower lip so hard it bleeds. His warm tongue invades me now, sliding up along the crease between my legs, finding my clit and moving gently over it, like a feather.

  “Fuck,” I moan, squeezing my hands even tighter around the wood spindles. “Fuck, Beck. Stop. I can't do this.”

  “You can, and you will,” he tells me in a deep rumble, flicking his tongue a little harder against my clit. “And you'll love every damn second of it.” His finger finds my opening, pushing inside, giving me a taste of what I want but stopping short of the real thing. It's maddening. I just want that feeling of fullness, of completeness, of being joined with another human being for a perfect moment in time.

  “I want it,” I growl at him, but he doesn't stop. He keeps kissing me, alternating hard flicks of his tongue with the soft, gentle press of his lips. “I want it now.” Beck thrusts his finger inside of me again, moving in a gentle rocking rhythm. Slowly, he inserts a second, taking away a bit of the pressure but not enough. My spine feels tight, like it's curling from the buildup, twisting inside of me until I want to thrash and scream. “Beck,” I whimper, dropping my hands down and tangling them in his hair, pulling hard and trying to get him to come up to me.