Hooked (Viking Bastards MC)

by Christina Phillips

  “I’m not hoping for anything.” I keep my voice light, but I’m a little annoyed. Sure, there’s nothing but sex between Zach and me, but that doesn’t mean we couldn’t also have scintillating conversations if we wanted to.

  That we haven’t is neither here nor there, and it’s certainly none of Kat’s business.

  “Cool.” She looks as though she’s trying not to laugh. “It’s just, the last time he had a girl stay over, she thought that was an invite to move all her shit in, like she was his old lady or something. It didn’t end well.”

  I definitely don’t want to know what she means by that. “Trust me, I’ll be out of here tomorrow. This isn’t anything serious.”

  She shrugs. “Guess you’ll leave when Zach tells you.”

  I might not have followed my dream career because of family expectations, and I don’t even want to think about the whole mess with Russell, but whether I like to admit it or not, I always had the choice.

  Kat makes it sound as though this thing I have with Zach starts and ends with whatever he wants, without any input from me. She couldn’t be more wrong. Ever since I met him I’ve been pushing my boundaries and playing by my newly forged rules. He might be used to calling the shots, but that doesn’t mean I’m not calling my own.

  “Actually, I’ll leave when I’m ready. And for now, that’s first thing in the morning.”

  She narrows her eyes and contemplates me for a moment. Then she gives a small smile. “You want coffee? There’s a great place we can go just down the street.”

  Chapter Six

  Zach

  I move Grace’s car to my garage, and it turns out the on-board computer’s fucked, but that’s no problem. I have contacts, and in a couple of hours I’ll be able to fix it as good as new.

  I go upstairs, and there’s a weird kind of anticipation in my chest. I don’t know why I can’t get her out of my head. Sure, she’s a great lay, but still, pussy’s only pussy.

  So why did I refuse the offer of a blow job from one of the strippers at the clubhouse? She’s done me a few times before, but all I wanted was Grace on her knees, taking me into her mouth.

  And that’s exactly what’s going to happen as soon as I find her.

  The kitchen’s empty. So’s the living room. I push open my bedroom door but she’s not there, either. I swing about, disbelief pumping through me. Has she left?

  It’s only then I see her case by the wall. Not that it means anything. Girl like her could easily replace everything in there without even blinking.

  What the fuck did Kat say to her?

  I pull out my cell and remember that I don’t have Grace’s number. I don’t even know her last name, although that’d be easy enough to find out, seeing as her car’s downstairs.

  I’m halfway down the hallway before it hits me. What am I doing, chasing some piece of ass? If she’s gone, then to hell with her.

  It doesn’t stop me calling Kat. She answers on the third ring. “Yeah?” She sounds bored. She always sounds fucking bored.

  “Where is she?” I slam the front door and enter the garage where the Merc looks completely out of place amid the couple of bikes I’m working on plus all the shit that goes with my business.

  “Who’s that, then?’ She sounds like she’s trying not to laugh which really pisses me off. And that’s kind of strange, since my sister, despite being a real pain in the ass, rarely manages to annoy me.

  “The chick who left her stuff all over my bed.”

  “Oh, her. Yeah, she’s with me. I’m trying to warn her about you, but she’s not having it.”

  She hasn’t fucked off. I prop my butt against the door of her car. “Where are you?”

  “Missing her already?”

  My grip tightens on my cell. I swear, if Kat wasn’t my sister… “I have to talk to her about her car.” I’m sure not telling Kat the real reason I want Grace here is so she can give me head. I shift position but it doesn’t ease my throbbing dick.

  “Sounds like a fascinating conversation.” Kat snorts, but I don’t see anything funny about it. “We’re at Burt’s.”

  …

  The coffee shop isn’t far and Kat often hangs out there with Ty’s sister. Although, I doubt they would if they knew the owner keeps an eye on them both for us. In return we make sure it’s known his shop is under our protection.

  It’s not a big place, mostly just an espresso bar, since takeout is their main trade, but they have half a dozen tables squeezed in along the windows and somehow Kat always manages to grab her favorite one in the corner.

  As I push open the door, all I can see of Grace is her long red hair as it tumbles over her back. Kat’s facing me and gives me a smirk which I ignore. Grace turns and smiles, and I focus on that gorgeous mouth as I imagine all the things she’s going to do to me as soon as I get her alone.

  “Hey.” I grab an iron-backed chair from the neighboring table and straddle it. Damn thing’s as uncomfortable as hell, although my hard-on doesn’t make it easier. Despite the takeout breakfast I got on the way to church, the combined aroma of freshly ground coffee and newly baked pastries makes my stomach growl. “You hungry?”

  “We’ve already eaten.” The sound of her voice makes me rethink the whole eating thing, unless she’s on the menu. “I’d love another caffè macchiato, though.”

  I guess I can wait a little longer. I glance at Kat. “How about you?”

  She wriggles out from behind the table. “No way. I might barf if I have to watch you two going gaga over each other.” She slaps my shoulder as she leaves, and I shoot her a dark glare because what the hell? Gaga?

  “She’s funny.”

  Funny, my ass. “Yeah, she’s a riot.” Then I remember Kat’s comment on the phone, and I frown at Grace. “What’s she been saying about me?”

  “Oh.” She shrugs and looks as though she’s trying not to laugh. I don’t think my sister’s ever had a real conversation with a chick I’ve slept with, mainly because she’s never even met most of them. It’s kind of weird to know they’ve been talking about me behind my back. Do I really want to know what Kat said?

  “You don’t want to listen to anything she says. She talks shit half the time.” Jesus, what’s wrong with me? I don’t give a fuck what Grace believes about me.

  “Well.” She blinks her long, blue-tipped eyelashes, and looks as though she’s just stepped out of one of my sister’s celebrity magazines. “She told me if I hurt you she’d poke out my eyes and set fire to my hair.”

  “What?”

  “I know. I mean, I guess I raked your back with my nails a little last night, but not enough to draw blood.”

  Did she say that to Kat? Is she jerking my chain? Not that I really care, since her comment brings back last night in vivid, graphic detail. I lean in close. “Next time, draw blood.”

  Her breath hitches. “That would be a first.”

  I saunter over to the counter, and don’t even bother trying to wipe the satisfied smile off my face as I give our order. But I still can’t help checking her out as she sits there looking so untouchable. It’s as though she wasn’t in my bed all night, and I haven’t seen her naked, or heard her sexy gasps as she comes. Usually that’s all it takes for me to lose my predatory edge of interest, but I want her more now than I did when she strolled into Odin’s.

  It’s not just because she’s classy. A few years ago Ty, Cade, and I hooked up with some rich bitch and her friends for an unforgettable night of no-holds-barred sex. Her version of a bachelorette party. One of the bridesmaids wanted more of a fling with me, but I wasn’t interested. I’d gotten all I needed from her in that one night.

  A couple of guys I’ve never seen before strut into the shop and instantly home in on Grace. Not surprising, since she’s the hottest chick in the place. The pricks exchange a knowing glance before puffing themselves out like a pair of peacocks and strolling over.

  I shove away from the counter and stalk them. When they reach her table s
he gives them a polite smile before turning to look out of the window. A clear brush-off, but they don’t get it.

  “Mind if we join you?” One of them slides into Kat’s vacated chair.

  I stop behind Grace, grasp the back of her chair, and loom in close. The guy standing beside the table falls over his feet as he backtracks, and dickwad in the corner looks as if he’s just shit himself.

  “Yeah, I mind.” I give dickwad a laser glare, and he squirms out of the chair like he’s made of rubber.

  “Sure. Didn’t realize you were…” He swallows and glances between Grace and me. I narrow my eyes at him, and he jerks his head like a turkey. “Okay, no harm done. We’re leaving, right?”

  Grace twists around as the guys hotfoot it from the shop. “Do you know them?”

  “Nah.” I swing the chair around so it’s right up close and personal to her and sit down, my thigh touching hers.

  “They seemed to know you.”

  I shrug. “Maybe.” It’s more likely they recognized my colors and didn’t want to start anything they had no hope of winning.

  Her gaze roves over me. “They looked terrified, actually.”

  I slide my arm along the back of her chair and my fingers play over her shoulder. “No one hits on my girl.”

  Sure, there’s nothing serious between us. She’ll be gone tomorrow. But today she belongs to me and I’ll break bones to prove it if I have to.

  “Hmm. I thought you weren’t a Neanderthal.”

  “Guess you thought wrong.” I grin, because while I’ve been called a lot of things by pissed off chicks, Neanderthal isn’t one of them. Then again, Grace isn’t angry with me, either.

  Burt brings our order over. “On the house,” he says, sliding my money back at me.

  Grace stirs her coffee but she keeps giving me sideways glances. Finally she takes a deep breath and puts her spoon down. “What’s the Viking Bastards?”

  I abandon her shoulder and slide my fingers through her hair. “My MC.” Does she even know what that means? “Motorcycle Club.”

  “Is that what I walked into last night?”

  I laugh. She really doesn’t have a clue. “No. Odin’s is just a bar where we hang out sometimes.” There’s no need to tell her anything else, but for some reason I want to. “My granddad on my mom’s side owned the bar and was a member of the Bastards. We’ve got history.”

  My granddad was a legend and, like my old man’s dad, was one of the original members of the California charter. It’s why we still patronize the bar—that and the fact my brother Gage now owns it.

  “Oh.” Grace nods as though that all makes perfect sense, but I can see she’s still as confused as ever. It’s rare that a girl I’m with has so little idea of how things are, but that’s cool. In fact, I like it, although fucked if I know why. “And that back room. Is it always empty for, uh, illicit hookups?”

  I twist her hair around my fist and tug her closer. “Illicit?” I don’t bother hiding my mocking tone. Only Grace would call it that. “No, it was closed because it’d just been repainted. About fucking time—that wall was disgusting.”

  She stares at me with those beautiful blue eyes of hers and then her lips twitch. “Serendipity.”

  It’s not the word I’d use, but it works. Last night is the only time I can remember that room’s not been in use. “Something like that.”

  “So, uh, your business.” She fiddles with her spoon and avoids my eyes. “It was nice of you to offer to fix my car, but I totally understand if you can’t. It probably needs to go to a specialist dealer or something.”

  It does, and if I was in a regular business there’s no way I could help her. But while the majority of my work is legit, there’s still a small stream of jobs that come through the chop shop side. Mostly it’s to help out my brothers, but Grace is a special case, and the computer I need is already on its way.

  “I can sort it, no problem.” My tone is final and anyone else would accept that. She doesn’t, though. I can tell by the way she looks at me, before she even opens her mouth.

  “I don’t want you to do anything illegal on my behalf.”

  Funny how that didn’t occur to her last night, but I know it’s because then she had no idea I was a member of the Viking Bastards. Obviously she now thinks everything I do is against the law.

  I guess compared to her pampered existence, she’s not far wrong.

  “Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.” I kiss her to let her know the discussion is over, and by the time I pull back I can’t even remember what the hell we were discussing.

  …

  Grace

  Just before we leave, Zach goes over to the counter to talk to the owner, and as if on cue, my cell buzzes. It’s Russell, and I nearly ignore it, but I guess he’ll just keep calling unless I speak to him. I want him to accept it’s finished between us, before my week’s vacation is over and we face each other at work. Ugh, I’m not looking forward to that.

  “Grace?” There’s an urgent note in his voice. “Haven’t you gotten my messages?”

  I have, and I should feel guilty for not having returned his calls, but somehow I just don’t. “Yes, but there’s not really anything to say, is there?”

  “Of course there is. You can’t throw our life away just because of a silly disagreement.”

  It was more than a silly disagreement about our domestic arrangements. It was the final nail in the coffin as far as I was concerned, and his complete disregard for my opinions annoys me all over again. “I’m sorry you don’t feel the same way, but I’m not prepared to discuss this anymore.”

  He ignores my comment, and I press my lips together as he proceeds to discuss everything we’ve already talked about, ad nauseam, without getting anywhere. When I see Zach pushing away from the counter, I cut Russell off mid-flow.

  “I’m sorry. I have to go.” I shove my cell back in my purse with a silent sigh of relief as Zach strolls toward me.

  He slings his arm around my shoulders as we make our way back to his place, and there’s nothing subtle about it. It’s possessive and macho and everything I’ve never wanted in the past, but with Zach it just seems so right. I’m not sure if it’s my imagination or not, but everyone we pass seems to give us a wide berth.

  Then again, if I didn’t know him, and came across him walking down the street, I’d do the exact same thing. And it’s not just a judgey call because he’s so unlike anyone else I’ve ever met. He is dangerous. Those two guys back in the coffee shop couldn’t leave fast enough when Zach appeared.

  And although Kat is nice enough, she wasn’t joking when she threatened me. Even when I assured her it was just a casual thing between Zach and me, she didn’t seem convinced, although I don’t know why she’d think I’d lie about something like that. Even if I did want more than a dirty weekend with him, he’s not the type to want a relationship. Anyone can see that.

  He takes me across the forecourt and into his workshop. Light streams in through the windows, which look perfectly normal. So they’re only blacked out for anyone trying to look inside, which doesn’t exactly disprove my suspicion his business is illegal.

  And my Mercedes is in there, taking up most of the space.

  I swing around, but as far as I can see there’s no possible way my car could’ve gotten in here. “How…?”

  He grins at my obvious confusion. “The entire front opens up. Comes in useful sometimes.”

  I guess it does. “Will whatever you’re going to do invalidate the warranty?”

  “Only if you tell anyone. They’ll never know it’s been hacked by the time I’m done.” He backs me up against my car and plants his fists either side of my shoulders. Strangely, it’s not menacing, just exciting.

  “My lips are sealed.”

  I’ve just become an accessory to a crime. Considering I’m the only person I know who drives under the speed limit and panics if a police cruiser follows me for longer than three seconds, I should be freaking out. I prob
ably will as soon as this crazy weekend is over, but for now I’m just going with the flow.

  I can’t help myself, and flatten my palms over his rock-hard abs. I’ve had sex with Zach more times over the last few hours than I had with Russell during our last month together, but I only have to look at Zach and I’m wet with need. “Do you have to start work right now?” I load my last two words with meaning, and just so he’s in no doubt of what I want, I drift my lips along his stubbled jaw.

  “Always got time for you.” He spears his fingers through my hair and tilts my head. God, his kisses kill me. Even though his body isn’t touching mine, his tongue inside my mouth is an electric surge that heats my blood. My nipples harden and I push myself against him, not caring that we’re in a garage workshop, or that the faint smell of oil lingers all around.

  If anything, the grimy location just turns me on more than ever. I wind my arms around his neck, and without breaking this mind blowing kiss he manages to pull off his leather vest, but instead of tossing it onto the ground, he places it on the roof of the car.

  He unzips my dress and I release him just long enough to shrug it down my arms. It pools at my feet on the stained floor. Another dress ruined. So totally worth it.

  “Never had a girl up against a Merc.” His unclips my bra and drops it on top of his vest. I arch my back, thrusting my breasts forward, and his grin is hotter than hell. “You ever done this before?”

  I choke back a laugh. Russell would be horrified by the very idea. “And risk scratching the paintwork? Not likely.”

  He cups my breasts in his callused hands before killing me with teasing kisses, slowly inching toward my aching nipples. He licks one sensitive peak and I groan, digging in my fingers on his head, but he doesn’t follow through. Instead he looks up, and there’s an evil glint in his eyes.

  “If the paint’s getting scratched, then you’re doing it wrong.”

  “I don’t care about the paintwork.”

  He circles a nipple with his thumb. It’s torture and heaven and I don’t know if I’m thrilled or mad that he’s taking his own sweet time about getting down and dirty.