by Lilly Atlas
“Fuckin’ finally,” he fired back. “And you can start with what the hell you were thinking parading yourself in front of that shit-bird dressed like that.” Gone was the concern and compassion, replaced by stormy eyes and a furious tone.
Shell glanced down, and if it were any other time, she’d have burst out laughing. Clad in a pair of tight black leggings and a fitted lavender V-neck sweater, there wasn’t a damn thing inappropriate about her outfit.
Copper’s anger was clearly melting his brain.
CHAPTER SIX
COPPER FOCUSED ON the action of swallowing his beer to keep himself from wringing Shell’s neck like he really wanted to.
Sip, taste, swallow, breathe, repeat.
Dark smudges dwelt under each of her eyes, she wore mismatching socks, and he’d have sworn she swayed on her feet before going to get their drinks. The woman looked seconds away from collapsing due to exhaustion. Last thing she needed was his pissed-off ass riding her in his customary demanding manner.
Riding her ass.
Shit.
Now he had that visual in his head. Which brought him right back around that damn outfit.
Shell glanced down at her clothes before lifting her frowning face. “Dressed like this? Copper, have you lost your mind? Aside from being cold because I wasn’t wearing a jacket, what is wrong with this?”
He ran his hand down his face and scratched at his beard. The beard he’d cleaned that evening before paying her a visit. Not because he knew she liked it close-trimmed. Just because it was getting unruly as he tended to let happen. “Jesus woman, those pants are too fucking tight.”
She screwed up her face, looking truly confused. “What? They’re black leggings. They’re tight. That’s what leggings are. You feeling okay?”
Yeah, sure, they were supposed to be tight, but were they supposed to hug her curvy ass in that way that made men think of one thing and one thing only? And that would be bending her over the closest flat surface, grabbing those round hips, and watching said ass jiggle as they fucked her from behind.
Shit.
“Well, your tits are showing too. And that man is the furthest thing from honorable.” Michelle wasn’t a twig. She’d had a kid for fuck’s sake. Her body had taken on that softer quality women hated about themselves, but men loved to sink their fingers into. At least the men he knew. Michelle had always had a bangin’ body, even at eighteen and nineteen when she was more skinny than curvy, but now, now she was one hundred percent woman and so fucking enticing he was hard in her presence more often than not.
Speaking of… Copper grabbed a throw pillow and placed it over his lap.
Thankfully, Shell didn’t seem to notice. She was too busy staring at him with a gaping mouth. “My tits are showing?” Glancing down again, she snorted. “Copper, it’s a V-neck sweater. You can see about a millimeter of my cleavage. What the hell is wrong with you? You live at the clubhouse and are practically drowning in tits every day. This is nothing.”
“Yeah? Well, what about your nipples?” He sounded like a psycho. And this had nothing to do with Joe, why he was here, or what Shell was hiding from him. But the thought of Joe gawking at her body, getting hard over the sight of her, or even being near her was making him insane.
Because Joe was a sadistic enforcer for a drug kingpin. Not because Copper was jealous.
“My nipples?” she squeaked as her face grew bright pink. She crossed her arms over her breasts and looked at anything but him. “It’s cold out,” she muttered.
“Fuck,” Copper practically growled. “Forget it. Just tell me why Joe was here.”
Staring at the blank television screen, Shell said, “The first Monday of each month, he shows up at eight fifteen on the dot to collect one thousand dollars from me. Has since a month after I moved back home.” The confession was uttered low enough he had to strain to hear it.
“You fucking kidding me? You’ve been back over a year!” Copper exploded forward, off the loveseat, drawing a yip of surprise from Shell.
Her slender shoulders, the ones that carried so much weight, slumped and her eyes grew glassy with unshed tears. The sight of her so close to crying is what doused the flames of Copper’s anger. Sure, he still felt like a simmering volcano, but he needed to rein it in if he didn’t want to cause her more upset. This problem of hers would be taken care of. Shell wouldn’t pay another dime to Joe. The Handlers would make damn sure of that, as they would have right off the bat if she’d come to them in the first place.
Damn stubborn woman.
Copper returned to the loveseat, stuffing himself in the space he’d occupied before. She’d left him more than half the tiny sofa, but it was still a tight fit, and her crossed knees ended up resting on his thigh. The woman needed bigger furniture. At least the news of how much money she’d forked over killed his boner.
One thousand dollars every month. It gnawed at him like a vulture tearing flesh from his bones. No wonder she worked herself raw yet always seemed to be without. He cupped her cheek. She sucked in a breath, meeting his gaze. “Look, babe, I came here because I heard Beth was sick and I wanted to check on you. See if you needed anything. If I promise not to react like that again, will you tell me the rest?”
Shell nodded, and one tear sprung free. With a huff, she blinked fast, as though angry at herself for allowing the weakness. Weak, shit, Shell was hands down the strongest woman he knew.
Copper groaned. “Please don’t cry, babe. It’ll fucking kill me.” He caught the runaway drop with his thumb as it trickled down her cheek.
She gave him a wobbly smile. “Apparently, right before Dad was killed, he’d received fifty thousand dollars in heroin from whoever it is Joe works for. I don’t even know who runs the show.”
“Really?” Copper scratched at his beard. It’d been over a decade since Sarge had been murdered, but that info didn’t ring any bells. Sarge had gotten the club involved in drugs a few years after Copper prospected. They’d sold dope, heroin, cocaine, and on occasion prescription pills, but never that much at once. It’d been something he never agreed with, and that business dragged the club through a few bloody years. After Sarge’s death, Copper ended the club’s involvement with pushing drugs.
Shell shrugged. “So he says. It’s not like I can verify it now. But he claims they never got paid for it. Joe says the drugs were given to Dad on good faith because they had a long-term relationship with him. He was supposed to make a payment the day after he was killed. They never got his money, and when they sent someone around to look for the drugs, they were never found.”
“So now that you’re older and back in town, they want their money.”
“Exactly,” Shell said with a nod. “Plus interest, of course.”
Copper snorted. “Of course. Jesus, ten fucking years of interest.” Hell, he ran a loan sharking business. He was no stranger to demanding repayment or forcing it when necessary. But there was one difference. Everyone who borrowed from him did so one hundred percent willingly. And if something happened, the Handlers didn’t go after a single mom to collect.
“They go looking to your mother for it first?”
That had Shell laughing. “You serious? She doesn’t have two pennies to rub together. And it’s no secret she wants nothing to do with the club. Joe may be an asshole, but he’s not stupid. He knew where to go. I’m easy prey.” She shrugged. “Just threaten Beth, and I’ll pretty much do anything anyone asks.”
“He threatened Beth?” Copper asked. He tried to keep his voice neutral, but couldn’t quite keep the lethal out of it.
“Copper,” Shell said, raising an eyebrow. “You promised.”
Blood simmered in his veins, just bubbling away ready to roll into a full boil. Joe had no idea the hell he’d invited into his life by going after Shell. And then to be threatening Beth? He’d be damn lucky if he lived another week. “I know, babe. This is directly related to the club.” He looked at her defeated expression, something she never wore
in front of him. Unable to stop himself from providing some comfort, he curled his hand around the back of her neck and gave a gentle squeeze. It was a fucking mistake, just that small touch, the feel of her soft skin against his much rougher palm had him swallowing down a mouthful of need.
“Why haven’t you brought this to me, Shell?”
“Things have been rough with the club ever since I came back, Copper. First with Shark, and then Lefty.” She shook her head. “I know my mom hates the MC and pretty much cut ties after Dad’s death, but I’ve always thought of the Handlers as my family. Joe said my dad was upping the drug dealing side of business outside of the club’s knowledge. Let’s face it, the club was different back then. My dad was leading the club in the wrong direction. You know it, I know it. And you guys don’t deserve to pay for his poor decisions.”
If Shell was a man, he’d have patched her into the club right then and there. Loyal to a fault, she loved her family with every ounce of her being. But she wasn’t a guy, so she couldn’t patch in, and call him a caveman, but he would never believe a woman should have to pick up any slack for the club business. He’d tried to take care of and protect Shell from the moment her father was killed, despite her protests and insistence on independence. Clearly, he’d failed miserably.
“It ends tonight, Shell. Joe doesn’t get another fucking penny from you. You hear me?”
Owl-eyed, she started to speak.
“Not finished.” he held up his free hand. “The club will take care of it. No, I won’t give you details, you’ve been around long enough to know how this shit works. If you see him anywhere, if anyone approaches you, if any damn thing happens that doesn’t seem right, you call me, immediately. Understand? I’ll take one answer, and that’s a yes.”
Shell just nodded. “Okay, Copper,” she said in a small voice. “Thank you.”
Huh? That was way too easy. Shell didn’t accept help. No matter how much he growled at her. “That’s it? Just thank you? You’re not going to argue with me?”
A sad smile formed on her face. “I’m too tired tonight. Maybe when I wake up tomorrow, I’ll be pissed at you for managing me, but I just don’t have the energy for it tonight. And, if you want the truth, giving him money each month is killing me.” A blush appeared on her cheeks. “I’ll be able to breathe a little easier now.”
Copper closed his eyes and counted to ten. He had to assume some of her easy acquiescence was due to the fact he didn’t fly off the handle over the news, but kept his cool and spoke to her rationally. So, as much as he wanted to shake her until her teeth rattled, he refrained.
“Okay. Then it’s done, and as long as you don’t see Joe, we don’t have to speak about it again.” He pushed a stray curl behind her ear. “How’s Beth?”
Shell groaned. “Last night was rough. We were both up pretty much the entire night. And today she was a bear, but she fell asleep before dinner, and seems to be out for the night.”
The woman should be in bed herself, not dealing with a scum sucking bottom feeder like Joe. Shell needed a man in her life. Someone to care for and protect her, from herself if necessary.
He tried to imagine a man here, filling that role in Shell’s life, and he nearly ripped one of her pillows in half.
Copper rubbed his eyes as a wave of fatigue washed over him. Nothing could be done about Joe tonight, and she needed to get some sleep. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed, babe. I’ll lock up for you. I’m pretty fuckin’ bushed myself.”
“All right.” They both stood. Shell placed a soft hand on his arm. “Thank you,” she said, then wrapped her arms around his waist and buried her head in his chest.
The feel of her, soft and warm against him, her thin but strong arms clinging to him had his cock waking up again. He gripped her messy bun, tipping her head back. “I’d do fucking anything for you and that princess back there, you know that, right?”
Shell nodded, her chin bumping his chest. “I know,” she whispered.
“Good. Now get moving.” He gave her a playful swat on the ass that made her giggle as she hurried into her room.
Copper made his way through her house, ensuring the doors and windows were locked, before following her into her room. He was too beat to drive home. At least that’s what he was telling himself. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d crashed at Shell’s. It’d happened two or three times since she’d been back in Tennessee. The other times it was because he’d been keeping an eye on her due to some threat against the club. Both times he’d stayed on that piece of shit couch, and got about fifteen minutes of sleep.
Not tonight.
When Shell emerged from the bathroom, he was lounging on her bed, eyes closed.
“Oh,” she squeaked. “You, uh,” she cleared her throat, “you staying here? Uh, in my bed?”
“Yeah, you mind? I’m too fucking big to sleep on that tiny-ass couch.”
“No, of course I don’t mind.” she answered too quickly. “I’m the one who always tells you you’re crazy to sleep there.” Barefoot, she padded toward the door. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”
As she walked past the bed, he reached out and captured her wrist. God, her skin was soft. Felt like silk under his callused fingers. “Just take the other side. Trust me when I tell you that couch is no place to sleep. Actually, I think you need to stop calling it a couch. It’s an insult to real couches.”
“I, uh, well…” Her mouth opened and closed about three times. Combined with the wide-eyes, she looked almost comical. Seeing her so flustered was kind of funny. Normally she had a witty comeback for him. Not tonight. She must really be exhausted. He frowned and dropped the teasing.
“Look,” he said. “I’m bushed and so are you. I’m not leaving you alone knowing that prick was just here. I get that you’ve been dealing with him for a while now, but just humor me. I’ll feel better knowing you and Beth have a guard tonight, okay?”
She still stared at him like he was crazy, but seemed to be considering his words.
So he went in for the kill.
“You need a solid night sleep so you can take care of Beth tomorrow. You know you won’t sleep well on the couch.” He knew the moment she gave in. Her body lost its tension, and she nodded her head.
“Okay.”
“Got a spare toothbrush I can borrow?” he asked as he released her wrist.
“Uh, yeah, cabinet under the sink.” She scurried around to the other side of the bed.
“Thanks, babe.” He climbed out of the bed just as she was slipping under the covers.
“Uh huh,” she said. Her voice was high-pitched like she was nervous and Copper chuckled.
There wasn’t a damn thing to be nervous about. He wasn’t going to touch her. Would never touch her. Last words her dying father said was to make sure Shell was protected. Make sure she was taken care of. He’d said, “Don’t let any of the fuckers in this club have her,” right before he took his last breath.
Copper wasn’t about to break a promise to the man that had taken him into the club and given him the life he loved.
He took a leak, brushed his teeth, then stepped back into Shell’s room. There wasn’t much in the way of decoration, probably due to lack of money, but the room was neat and comfortable. She was in the queen-sized bed, on her side, facing a window. And not facing him.
Copper put a hand on his belt, shook his head, then started for the bed. After two steps he said, “fuck it,” and undid the belt. The past times he’d crashed there had been planned so he’d had a change of clothes but fuck if he’d get a good night sleep in jeans. He dropped the denim to the floor and stepped out, clad in his boxer briefs and T-shirt. It would have to do.
He slipped under the covers and tried to pretend his feet weren’t hanging off the edge and his massive body wasn’t taking up more than his fair share of the bed. Soft breath sounds came from Shell’s side of the bed. Poor thing was probably out cold already.
She worked way too much for way too litt
le, and it made him sick to his stomach to think that a good chunk of her money was being stolen by drug dealers.
Not anymore.
Copper glanced over and watched the steady rise and fall of her back for a few minutes. Then, he rolled to his right side, curled an arm around her waist, and tucked her against his body. Aside from his birthday, he never touched Shell, not hugs, not pats on the arm, not even so much as a handshake. Just didn’t trust himself not to lose control and ravage her. But as he held her soft body close, he felt more at peace than he’d felt in years. Maybe ever.
Well, most of him felt at peace. There was one part of him rapidly growing dissatisfied with the nonsexual nature of the situation. His cock hardened further with each passing second of having her body so close to his. Minutes ticked by, and he finally allowed his mind to come to terms with what he’d been fighting like hell against for years. He wanted Shell with every fiber of his being. Wanted to fuck her, wanted to romance her, wanted to sleep next to her, wanted to monopolize all her free time.
Too bad he’d never have it. Despite everything he wanted, needed from her, all he’d allow himself was one night to hold her in his arms as she slept.
Since she was already asleep, she’d never know.
Aside from having the bluest balls on earth, what was the harm?
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHELL WOKE TO a small hand patting all over her face.
“Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! I’m awake,” Beth said, still smacking her hand on Shell’s cheek.
Shell rolled to her back. With a groan, she grabbed Beth’s hand and blew a raspberry on her palm. The giggles that ensued were music to her ears. “Sounds like someone is feeling better this morning.”
“Me! I’m feeling better.” Beth bounced on her knees like she’d just had a few shots of espresso instead of being laid up for the past two days with a virus. If only adults could bounce back that easily.