“You’re scaring me right now, Tack,” I admitted breathily because I was lying on my back but everything he said made my breath ragged and there was nothing I could do to stop it mainly because I wasn’t lying. He was scaring me right now.
He lifted his head, his other hand came up so both were framing my face and he looked into my eyes when he whispered, “What scares you?”
What scared me? My God, he was insane.
“All of it,” I told him.
“Break it down,” he demanded.
“Shit isn’t good in the Club?”
“No, shit is not good in the Club.”
He didn’t elaborate, just confirmed so I went on. “Outside the Club?”
“Same outside the Club.”
Confirmation not elaboration and clearly I would get none of the last.
So, I whispered, “You could get the not breathing variety of dead?”
“Yep.”
“Ohmigod.” I was still whispering.
“Baby –”
“What’s going on?”
“It’s better you don’t know.”
I was willing to go with that.
“Okay, then, can I just say that I’m not all fired up to live in your world if that’s one of the problems you face.”
At that, for some insane reason, Tack grinned. Then he said, “See I got more explaining to do.”
Oh boy.
Before I could stop him (not that I could stop him), he went on, “Now, baby, you coulda taken your job with Ride and kept your shit separate. You didn’t. You came and partied with the Club. Then you took my hand and partied with me. That means I get to claim you and I have. There’s no out once you’re in and, Tyra, darlin’, you’re in.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“That’s the way of the world.”
“No it isn’t.”
“All right, babe, I’ll amend that. That’s the way of my world.”
“Okay, Tack, but that’s ridiculous!” My voice was rising and I declared, “I want out.”
“You don’t want out.”
“I do.”
“You don’t.”
“Trust me, I do.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I so totally do.”
“You want me to prove you don’t?”
Uh-oh.
“No,” I answered quickly as his hands tilted my head one way, his head slanted the other, his eyes dropped to my mouth and his face got closer.
“Too late,” he muttered against my lips. I pressed them together. He changed tactics at the last minute, his tongue slid along my lips and my eyes drifted closed as my hands pressed against his shoulders. “Open your mouth for me, baby,” he whispered against my lips.
I shook my head.
“I wanna taste you, open for me, darlin’.” He was still whispering.
I shook my head again.
His thumb moved across my cheek, sweeping across my lips again, his tongue following and all that felt way, way, way too nice.
“Open for me,” he urged gently.
I shook my head again at the same time pressing it back into the pillows.
His hand left my head and moved down my neck, my chest, as I felt his hips grind into mine.
Mm, that felt way, way, way too nice too.
Damn.
“Open,” he ordered.
I squeezed my eyes tight.
His hand kept moving down.
“Open, baby.”
I pressed my lips tight.
His fingers found the hem of my camisole, dipped under then the warmth of his hand was moving up my skin.
I squirmed under him.
“Open.”
I turned my face away from his and his hand cupped my breast.
“Open,” he whispered against the sensitive skin of my neck.
“No,” I whispered to the pillow.
His hand at my head moved to curve around my jaw, he pulled my face to his again just as his fingers curled into my bra and yanked the cup down, scraping the nipple, making it go hard. I sucked in breath as my body instinctively melted under his, the inside of my thighs pressing into the sides of his hips then his thumb swept across my tightened nipple, my lips parted and I gasped.
“There it is,” he muttered, then his lips crushed mine and his tongue slid into my mouth.
God, he tasted good. I forgot how good. So good, he tasted great.
My thighs tightened against his hips, his finger met his thumb at my nipple and rolled. I felt a rush of heat between my legs. The rush was so strong I moaned into his mouth and arched into his hand as my tongue tangled with his and my arms slid to lock around his shoulders.
“Dad! Tyra!” Tabby shouted. “Someone’s at the door!”
Tack’s fingers stopped rolling, his hand curled warm around my breast and his mouth broke from mine to growl, “No fuckin’ way.”
“Should I answer it?” Tabby called, sounding closer.
“Ye…” my voice broke, I cleared my throat and shouted, “Yeah, honey, go ahead. I’ll be right out.”
“Fuck,” Tack clipped and I opened my eyes to see his were drilling into mine. “We’re not done,” he announced.
“Um… I need to go see who’s at the door.”
His fingers tensed on my breast and he growled, “Yeah, but we’re not done.”
“Um…”
“You’ll see who’s at the door then we’re finishing.”
I bit my lip.
“With me?” he demanded to know.
I stopped biting my lip to mumble, “Uh…”
Suddenly his thumb swept my sensitized nipple, my lips parted and my eyes drifted halfway shut.
“You’re with me,” he murmured, I snapped my eyes all the way open just in time to catch his grin.
Then his fingers were righting my bra, his hand was out of my top, his body was off mine and I was out of my bed and on my feet.
I wobbled slightly since my knees were not ready to take on my weight and Tack’s arm went around my belly. He pulled my back to the front of his body, partly to hold me steady and partly to march me to the door with his face in my neck, against which he ordered, “Be quick gettin’ rid of ‘em.”
“Tack –”
His arm around my belly gave me a squeeze and his teeth lightly nipped the skin at my neck.
My legs wobbled again.
“Quick,” he commanded on a low rumble.
“Okay,” I whispered.
He held me close but reached beyond me and opened my bedroom door.
Chapter Nine
I Can’t Keep Up
I walked connected to Tack with his arm around my middle all the way down the hall. I was freaking out and I didn’t want to like it but there was something about feeling his hard body and the power that naturally emanated from it surrounding me as we moved. He was not someone I felt safe with, at least this was what my mind told me, but my body felt something different.
I’d rather cut off my own arm than ever hurt you.
His words came to me, words I missed when he said them, and they filled my head so full, when we made it out of the hall into the living room, I had to blink my eyes to clear my mind.
Then I stared at Lanie’s fiancé Elliott standing in my living room with Rush and Tabby. The movie was on pause and there was no Lanie in sight.
Weird. Elliott never came over by himself.
“You know this guy?” Tack’s voice rumbled in my ear both audibly and physically.
“Yeah,” I replied. “Hey, Elliott,” I called, smiling at him.
“Hey, uh… Tyra,” Elliott replied, his eyes, for some bizarre reason, darting back and forth repeatedly from Tack to me.
Well, maybe it wasn’t bizarre. Tack was a badass biker who was holding me and Elliott knew me pretty well so he knew I wasn’t seeing a badass biker. He also probably got the lowdown from Lanie about Tack because I was pretty sure she told him everything. So he was probably surprise
d I was standing there in Tack’s arm with two teenagers in my living room that could not be mistaken as the fruit of anyone else’s loins but Tack’s.
Still, it was bizarre the way he was doing it because it didn’t seem like surprise or shock.
It seemed like fear.
Elliott was not tall, he was five foot seven and Lanie was five foot nine. Elliott had thinning blond hair and a receding hairline. Lanie had thick, lustrous, long dark hair akin to Tabby’s. Elliott had a paunch and a weak chin. Lanie was slim and svelte, a human hanger, no tits or ass, amazing bone structure, beautiful green eyes and she was pure elegance from top-to-toe. Lanie was a human goddess. Elliott was nowhere near a human god.
But Elliott was brilliant, a genius and not one of those socially awkward or arrogant geniuses. He was easy to talk to. He was funny. He was sweet. He was thoughtful. He was generous and he was kind. He never missed Lanie’s birthday and always bought her the perfect present, not always something expensive, but always something she wanted or something meaningful. Ditto with anniversaries. She said he made her laugh. She said he listened when she had a bad day. She said he held her when they slept. And she said she knew beyond any doubt she was the most important thing in the world to him. So Goddess Lanie saw beyond Elliott’s looks and he became the most important thing in the world to her.
They were a love match. Surprising to some, I was sure, but real. And because he made my best friend happy, I adored him.
“What’s up?” I asked, moving forward only to be tugged back, again bizarrely, into Tack’s body. This was bizarre not because he was holding me, which, I was getting, he intended to do whenever the hell he felt like it. No, it was bizarre how he was doing it.
In the hall, his natural badassness made me feel casually safe.
Right now, his tight hold and the feel of his hard body, statue-still and weirdly alert at my back, made me feel he was intentionally keeping me safe.
What on earth?
“Uh… I was wondering –” Elliott started.
“Is Lanie here?” I asked because I didn’t want Lanie there. I was a little panicked that she’d come storming in at any moment, see Tack, see his kids, see the evidence of fajitas and the movie and lose her mind.
Lanie might be pure elegance from top-to-toe but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be pure drama and when Lanie let it rip, watch out.
“No,” Eliott replied, his eyes went over my shoulder and up and he asked, “Can I uh… Kane… er, Mr. Allen, can I talk to you?”
I stared at Elliott wondering what he was on about and who he was talking to.
Elliott’s eyes flitted to me then back to Tack when he finished, “Alone.”
That was when my body went statute-still.
It stayed statue-still for approximately a nanosecond before I heard Tack say to Elliott, “Don’t move,” then he turned me around, let me go, grabbed my hand and I found myself tugged down the hall. Then I found myself in my room and the door was again closed.
I tipped my head back to stare up at Tack.
“How do you know that guy?” he asked.
“He’s my best friend’s fiancé,” I answered.
Tack looked down to the floor and muttered, “Fuck.”
Okay, now he was scaring me again but for a different reason.
“What?” I whispered.
His head came up and his eyes caught mine. “I’m gonna take him out to the back deck. When I do that, I need you to promise me you’ll stay in the living room with my kids and you won’t listen. Can you promise me that, Tyra?”
Ohmigod! What was going on?
“Why?” I breathed.
“Promise me.”
I leaned in and put a hand to his chest. “Why?” I repeated.
His hand curled around the back of my neck and his face dipped close. “I’ll explain why later if you promise me now, baby,” he said gently.
I stared into his eyes as fear filled my heart. Then, for some crazy reason, I nodded.
“Words, baby, give me the words,” he demanded.
“I promise,” I whispered.
His head tilted, his mouth touched mine, he let my neck go and grabbed my hand again. Two seconds later we were in the living room.
“Back deck,” Tack growled then he prowled to the kitchen and disappeared, Elliott following him and the whole time he did, he avoided my eyes.
I heard the door slam and my body jumped when I did.
“You okay, Tyra?” Rush asked quietly, my eyes slid to him and it was then I realized I was trembling.
“Yeah, honey, I’m fine,” I lied and threw him a fake smile. “That movie just freaked me out a bit and your Dad was um… helping me out with that.” I kept lying.
“Yeah, bet he was,” Tabby said on a giggle then collapsed in a full body plop on my couch.
But Rush didn’t move. He studied me like his father had a tendency to do and I guessed he didn’t buy the fake smile or the lies. I didn’t have time to consider the fact that Rush was seventeen, nearly eighteen, and astute. Something bad was happening and I only had time to consider that. So I curled into the armchair Tack had vacated and after a moment’s hesitation and further study of me, Rush stretched out on the floor again and started the movie. We watched perhaps five minutes of it before we heard the backdoor open.
I jumped out of the chair and Rush paused the movie like he’d been listening for the door too. I was on my feet and Rush was at my side by the time Elliott and Tack reentered the room.
Elliott came straight to me and grabbed my upper arms. I felt Rush close to my side but all I could see was Elliott’s pale, plainly freaked way the hell out face and panicked eyes.
“Don’t tell Lanie,” he begged on a whisper.
“Get your hands off her,” I heard Tack growl and felt Rush get closer and Tack closing in but I only had eyes for Elliott.
“Don’t tell her what?” I whispered.
“Don’t tell her,” he pleaded.
“Man, what did I say?” Tack bit out and Elliott’s head jerked to the side and up.
“She can’t tell her,” he told Tack and his fingers tensed, digging into my arms so much they caused pain.
“She’ll do what she’s gotta do. Now, I’m not gonna say it again. Take your fuckin’ hands off her or I’ll make you do it,” Tack warned.
Elliott paled further, released me and took a quick step away.
Then his eyes found mine and I saw his were wet. “I had to,” he whispered. Both his hands went to his hair and he repeated, “I had to.”
Then he ran, actually ran to and out the front door.
When it slammed behind him, I jolted out of my freeze and ran after him, calling, “Elliott!”
“Movie on, you and your sister stay in here, get me Rush?” Tack ordered in a low, serious voice. I was interrupted in throwing open the door when he caught my hand and I found myself dragged yet again to my bedroom.
I didn’t fight it and the minute the door closed behind Tack, I got in close. So close, my breasts brushed his chest and both my hands went to his tee at his abs and curled in.
I tipped my head back and whispered, “What’s going on?”
I was freaked out and near tears. I felt a chill on my skin. And my stomach hurt.
Tack’s hands came up, palms to my jaw, fingers curled around my ears and neck.
“Tell me what you know about him,” he demanded quietly.
“Um… he’s a computer programmer. He’s a nice guy. He’s really smart. He’s getting married to my best friend in the whole world. Their wedding date is just over six weeks away.” I shook my head in short shakes, not breaking eye contact. “I don’t know… um, I like him. He loves her and I like him.”
Tack’s hands left my face and one went to his back pocket. He pulled out his phone, flipped it open, hit a few buttons and put it to his ear.
“Tack –” I started but stopped when one of his hands came to my jaw again but his thumb rested on my lips.
>
“Dog,” he said into his phone, “Elliott Belova just left Tyra’s house. Pick him up. I want him at the Compound in an hour. I’ll meet you there.”
I felt my eyes get wide as Tack flipped his phone shut and shoved it into his back pocket. Then my fingers curled deeper into his shirt and I pushed closer.
His thumb slid from my lips to my cheek and I whispered, “Please, talk to me.”
“Your friend just offered me half a million to whack the big man in the Russian Mob.”
I blinked and swayed at the same time and Tack’s arms went around me fast and tight.
Then I breathed, “What?”
“I think you heard me, baby,” he said softly.
“Whack?” I whispered.
“Murder, kill, assassinate,” Tack explained.
“I know what it means,” I shook my head. “Do you… do you do that?” I asked.
His arms tightened briefly before he said low, “Fuck no, except five minutes ago when I was moved to consider it when that fuckwad stood on your back deck and offered me five hundred large to end another guy but it wasn’t the guy he wanted me to end I was considering ending.”
“Then why… what… why…?”
Tack’s face got close and his arms got tighter.
“This guy, Red, this guy is not a good guy.”
“But he’s Elliott,” I said stupidly.
“He is not a good guy.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I say it because he offered me five hundred K to kill someone. I say that because I know he’s not as smart as you think because he’s dumb enough to get involved with some seriously fucked up shit. And I say that because I just found out he’s got the love of a woman who’s probably a good woman and she’s gonna end up brokenhearted, hurt or worse.”
I felt my breathing escalate.
“Why do you say that?”
“This shit, the kinda shit he’s in, leaks and no one’s safe.”
I gave him my full weight as I heard my breath hitch and felt tears fill my eyes.
“Tack,” I whispered.
Motorcycle Man Page 9