Um… wow. I liked that Tack knew that and I also liked how he said it.
I didn’t tell him that. Instead, I whispered, “This is true.”
“I know it’s true,” he whispered back.
“If he’s broke, how was he going to pay you half a million dollars to whack this Lescheva guy?” I asked.
“Provin’ irrefutably he’s a moron, he was gonna use his skills to steal it from the mob.”
Yes, that proved irrefutably that Elliott was a moron. Big time.
I turned my head, pressed my cheek against my hand on his chest and sighed.
Tack’s fingers tensed against my scalp again and he ordered, “Come here, baby, I want a kiss then I gotta get some shuteye. I’m fuckin’ wiped.”
I blinked at my room.
Now was the time to tell him he wasn’t sleeping in my bed and he needed to go to another one. The problem was, he was naked in my bed and I was resting on his chest.
Oh boy. How did I let that happen?
I decided to blame Elliott and Tack’s tats.
Then I pulled in breath, lifted my head and looked at Tack.
“Uh… maybe you should sleep elsewhere tonight?” I suggested what I hoped sounded more like a requirement.
He grinned, his fingers slid to the back of my head and he started pulling me to him, saying, “Quit fuckin’ around, Red, I’m tired.”
“I wasn’t, erm… fucking around.”
His hand stopped putting pressure on my head and his brows knit.
“Say again?”
“I think you should, um… probably, uh…” Damn! “With Lanie here, you know… you should…”
His hand left my hair, both hands went under my armpits and he hauled me up his chest then rolled into me so he was on top. Then he gave me the goodnight kiss to beat all goodnight kisses. It was long, hard, deep, wet and utterly delicious.
When he was done, I was breathing heavily, my lips were tingling, my nipples were tingling and there were other places that had started to tingle but he’d stopped. Then he rolled to his back, reached an arm out to turn off the light on my nightstand, the room was plunged into darkness and he tucked me into his side.
My cheek was to his shoulder, my hand on his abs and I was trying to control my breath.
Once I got my breath under control, I said quietly into the darkness, “I guess this means you aren’t going to go home.”
His arm around my waist got tight before it relaxed and he replied with humor in his tone, “Yeah, Red, that’s what it means.”
I wondered what he would have done if I hadn’t slithered out of his room when he’d kicked me out of his bed and instead just stayed. It was on the tip of my tongue to ask him but I couldn’t call up the courage.
Then I realized I had no choice but to sleep with a naked Tack in my bed. And even though he’d been very cool about Elliott, with Lanie and even with me, this annoyed me to an extreme.
He’d said, You don’t fit into all the shit that’s swirlin’ in my life right now unless I can make you fit. That’s all I got to give you and that’s all you’re gonna get. And you’re gonna take what I have to give, Red. You’re not gonna resign. You’re not gonna disappear. You’re gonna be where I want you to be, you’re gonna do what I want you to do and you’re gonna listen to what I have to say and if you don’t do it, I’ll find a way to make you do it.
And when he’d said that, clearly he wasn’t lying.
I decided we needed to have a conversation and when we had our next one we needed to have it when I wasn’t flat on my back with Tack on top of me.
I rolled away from him to my other side, tucking my hands under my cheek and staring into the darkness.
He rolled with me, his arm curving tight around my ribs and pulling me deep into his body as his knee came up, taking mine with it and he leaned in, partially pinning me to the bed.
I’d rather cut off my own arm than ever hurt you.
He’d said that too.
Mixed messages and multiple personalities.
I closed my eyes tight, pulled in a deep breath and then let it go. When I did, Tack’s arm moved out and up, his hand found my wrist, pulled it down and his fingers laced in mine before he tucked both our hands tight to my chest.
Then he whispered in my ear, “Sleep, baby, it’s all gonna be all right.”
He thought I was worried about Elliott and Lanie and he was being sweet about it.
I closed my eyes tighter, took another deep breath and let it go.
Then I whispered back, “Okay, Tack.”
“’Night, Red.”
“’Night.”
I felt his lips touch the back of my neck then I felt his weight settle into me again and a little while later I heard his steady breathing.
A little while after that, mine joined his.
Chapter Eleven
You Forget Somethin’?
I woke and felt the morning, bright Colorado sunshine on my eyelids. I rolled to my back and opened my eyes. Then I rolled to my other side and smelled musk and man.
Tack.
I breathed deep.
Mm. Nice.
I blinked and saw my alarm clock said it was ten to nine and I stared.
Ten to nine!
Damn! I was supposed to be at work an hour ago!
I threw the covers back and scrambled out of bed. My feet hit the ground running but I tripped and went flying, righting myself just before I took a header. I looked back to see what I’d tripped on and it was Tack’s boots.
Then I stared at Tack’s boots beside my bed, liking the sight of them lying there just like I liked the smell of him on my sheets.
Holy hell.
I scurried to the door, threw it open and was going to head to the bathroom but I heard the murmur of voices coming from the kitchen and stopped. I looked to Lanie’s door and saw it was open. Something weird seeped into me, I stopped rushing and walked slowly toward the living room, rounded the wall and moved just into the kitchen.
My kitchen was long and narrow, running the length of the house. At the front of it was the dining area, the bulk of the kitchen was beyond a short bar with two barstools in front of it. One of those barstools held Lanie’s firm, slim ass, her body encased in a shimmery, short silk kimono-style robe complete with beautiful embroidery on the back most of which you couldn’t see because her gleaming, thick dark hair was flowing down her back. Across the bar from her was Tack, wearing his gray tee from the day before and his jeans. They both held coffee mugs. Lanie was in profile and she’d not twenty-four hours ago found out her beloved fiancé was the kind of guy who would track down a biker in a failed attempt to have someone whacked. Not to mention, she hated Tack and wanted me to quit my job so I’d never see him again. But I still saw they both were smiling so big it looked like they’d just stopped laughing.
Something in my heart spasmed at this sight. Lanie was my friend and she had been for fifteen years. I knew she was beautiful, I’d been walking at her side or sitting on a barstool next to her or at a table with her enough times to notice the appreciating glances, see the drinks sent her way, watch the men slide in beside her but that was the way of the world. Beautiful women got attention. And she was my Lanie, I was happy for her that she did.
But two weeks ago I watched Tack making out with a gorgeous, slim brunette and now he was laughing in my kitchen with one. And even though she was my friend who I knew wouldn’t go there, whether or not Elliott was in or just dumped on his ass out of the picture, I didn’t like it.
And I didn’t like that I didn’t like it.
Holy hell, now I was getting multiple personalities.
Tack’s eyes went from Lanie to me, his smile stayed in place and his chin tipped up. “Mornin’, babe.”
Lanie spun on her barstool toward me. “Hey, Ty-Ty.”
“Hey,” I muttered, walking in directly to Lanie. I got close and slid her hair off her shoulder. “You okay this morning?”
“N
o,” she answered, her eyes slid to Tack, she smiled beautifully at him, her innate elegance radiating from every pore, even makeup-less, in a kimono and with slightly puffy eyes from the crying jag yesterday. Then she looked back to me and stated, “But Tack’s pancakes go a long way to soothe the ravaged soul of a woman who just found out her fiancé is whacked.”
Tack chuckled. I looked down at my bar to see a plate that once held something covered with maple syrup.
Tack had made Lanie pancakes.
I didn’t like that either.
“You want pancakes, Red?” Tack asked and I looked up at him thinking he looked good in my kitchen. Really good. And also thinking he looked like he belonged in it with Lanie.
Damn.
“Nope,” I murmured, giving Lanie a bump with my body and heading around the bar to the coffeepot. “I need coffee and to jump in the shower. I’m late for work.”
I stopped in front of the coffeemaker, grabbed a mug and was in the process of dropping my arm when I suddenly found myself pressed to the counter and what was pressing me was Tack’s long, hard body.
His arms curved around my ribs then I felt his goatee rough against my neck as his chin shifted my hair aside then his face was in my neck.
“You forget somethin’?” His gravelly voice rumbled in a murmur against my skin.
“Yeah, to turn on my alarm,” I answered, my body still as a statue but every inch of my skin was tingling.
“No you didn’t. I turned it off.”
“You did?” I asked the cupboard.
“You’re off today, seein’ to your friend. Boss’s orders.”
“Tack –”
His arms gave me a squeeze and his goatee tickled my ear when his lips lifted there. “You forgot something,” he whispered.
I turned my head and his came up as I did. When I caught his eyes I asked, “I did?”
“Yeah.”
I was confused, freaked out about my weird response to Tack and Lanie laughing and maybe still a little asleep so my brows drew together.
“What’d I forget?”
One of his arms left my middle and cupped the side of my head.
“This,” he muttered then his mouth was on mine.
It wasn’t a morning mouth touch. It was a kiss, a serious kiss. So serious, his body moved back, turned mine to face him then it moved in again, pressing me into the counter. His hand cupping the side of my head slid into my hair to cup the back and hold me to him as his other arm locked tight around my waist, plastering me to his body.
It was such a serious kiss, and such a great kiss, I totally forgot Lanie was there, my confusion, weird response to Tack spending time with Lanie and the sleep that lingered and my arms moved to wrap around his shoulders. I went up on my toes and I went at it right along with Tack. Maybe more. I was off guard plus I loved how he tasted and I was hungry for it. So without the barest thought about anything but Tack, his tongue and his mouth, I drank deep.
Tack broke the kiss but he didn’t take his mouth away when he whispered against my lips, “Jesus fuck, Red, you can use that sweet mouth,” and his arm around me squeezed tight on the word “fuck”.
I gazed up at him in a haze thinking he could use his mouth too, thinking a lot more than my skin was tingling and also thinking I wasn’t quite done with his mouth when I heard Lanie clear her throat.
I blinked and the haze cleared.
“Ohmigod,” I whispered against Tack’s mouth and watched up close as the lines beside his eyes deepened in a smile.
This would have been fascinating but I was belatedly mortified and therefore I pulled quickly out of Tack’s arms and stepped to the side, my gaze finding my best friend.
“God, Lanie, sorry, I –”
“Don’t mind me,” she said, her mouth smiling but there was pain in her eyes. “I remember what it was like in the first throes of meeting someone. I remember it because it was a lot like what I still had with Elliott just the night before last.” She stopped talking, the smile faltered and her eyes got bright.
Oh no. I’d seen that look a lot last night. She was going to blow.
“Damn,” I muttered and Tack’s arm circled my chest from behind pulling me to him which was the wrong, wrong, wrong thing to do because Lanie’s eyes dropped to his arm. Her lips quivered and then she burst out sobbing, twisting a bit so she wouldn’t face plant in her maple syrup plate, she face planted in her arm on the counter but her hair went into her maple syrup plate.
“I think the pancakes wore off,” Tack muttered in my ear.
I yanked free of Tack’s arms, whirled and glared at him.
His eyes caught mine but my eyes caught his mouth twitch before he asked, “What?”
I slapped his arm, lifted up on my toes to get in his face and hissed, “You don’t make out like that in front of newly broken up people! In fact, you don’t make out like that in front of anyone.”
His face moved to within an inch of mine and he whispered, “Wrong, baby, I do. I make out wherever the fuck I want which means you do too.”
I squinted my eyes at him, whirled back around and ran to Lanie.
I put my hand on her back and carefully extricated her hair from the maple syrup.
“Honey,” I whispered, “you got your hair in the syrup.”
She sat back abruptly and looked to the ceiling, crying out, “I don’t care! Who cares! I can shampoo with maple syrup. There’s no one to care!” Then she flopped back down on the counter and I had just enough time to grab the plate and get it out of range.
I lifted my eyes to Tack and skewered him with a look at the same time I held the plate up and jerked it at him. He sauntered to me and took the plate while I pulled Lanie off her chair.
“Let’s get you into the shower,” I murmured to her.
“No shower. No work. No nothing. I’m going to eat Tack’s pancakes until I weigh nine hundred pounds and die and they’ll have to cut around your door to get my carcass out of your house.”
I so totally told you that when Lanie let a drama rip, watch out.
“You’ll feel better after a shower,” I told her, guiding her out of the kitchen.
“I’ll never feel better, Ty-Ty,” she told me and I sighed. Then I guided her to her bedroom. I dashed to the bathroom and did my business quickly. After I was done, I went back to her bedroom and guided her with her toiletries and clothes stuffed in her arms into the bathroom. As I was doing this last, I heard the knock on my front door. I focused on Lanie and got her situated and as I was exiting the bathroom to see who on earth was at the door, I saw Tack was there before me.
“Hey, Tyra!” Tabby called chirpily.
“Yo, Tyra,” Rush called after her.
I stood in the hall outside my bathroom in my drawstring pajama shorts and camisole with my wild bed hair staring at Tack and his kids in my living room and heard the bathroom door click behind me.
“Uh… hey,” I called, stunned.
“Dad texted, said it was an impromptu Allen Pancake Morning so we came right over,” Tabby stated.
“Nothin’ better, not even his fajitas,” Rush put in.
“Babe, get your ass in the kitchen so I can feed you and my kids and get on the road,” Tack ordered while sauntering toward my kitchen.
His kids followed.
I stood in the hall and stared. Then I blinked. Then I stared some more. Then my body came unstuck and I motored into the kitchen to find Tack at the stove, Rush on Lanie’s barstool and Tabby’s head in the fridge.
I went direct to Tack and got close to his side seeing he was pouring perfect, silver dollar pancakes on my griddle.
“Can I talk to you?” I asked quietly.
His head turned and he looked down at me.
“Yeah,” he answered but otherwise didn’t move.
“Elsewhere,” I defined my request.
“Then… no,” he said through a grin.
I opened my mouth to make my request sound more like a demand when a
loud banging came at my door. It was so loud, my body jerked in surprise and Tack’s head whipped around.
“What the fu –?” he started to mutter when we heard, “Open this motherfucking door!”
Ohmigod! It was Naomi.
More loud banging, so loud and violet I was uncertain my door could withstand it and I wondered if some of it was kicking then, “I know you’re all in there! I saw you go in there! Open this goddamned motherfucking door!”
Through this, Tack crashed down my fabulous, pink, Williams Sonoma mixing bowl with the little pouring thing-a-ma-jig in the lip, shoved the griddle off the burner, turned and stalked out of my kitchen.
Oh boy.
I hurried after him and I felt Rush and Tabby at my heels but we weren’t fast enough. Tack had the door open and he was standing in it. My body stuttered to a stunned halt when I saw Tack’s torso rock back because Naomi shoved a hand violently in his shoulder to push in. She took three steps in, turned to me, Rush and Tabby and I fancied I saw her head split right down the middle and fire pour out, such was her fury.
“You stupid, skank, whore!” she shrieked then came right at me.
I braced and she made an “oof” noise and bent double at the middle when Tack caught her at the waist and pulled her back at the same time Rush’s arm went around my waist (a fair bit more gently, I might add), and he pulled me behind him.
Tack positioned himself between Naomi and me and planted a hand in her chest.
“Have you lost your fuckin’ mind?” he growled.
“Get out to your car!” she screeched at Tabby.
Tack was shoving her toward the door and she was fighting it but losing.
“Get the fuck outta here.” He was still growling, his voice low, deep, the gravel had turned to ice shards and it wasn’t directed at me but I still felt my skin rise in goose bumps.
“You do not spend time in that fuckin’ bitch’s home!” Naomi screamed, again, for some reason, at Tabby.
“Oh God,” Tabby whispered and her words were not filled with ice. They were filled with embarrassment.
Motorcycle Man Page 11