Love Ties (8 page)

“Hey, Ace, who’s this?” A handsome guy with the most striking dark eyes she’d ever seen jerked his thumb toward her.

Ever recognized the man with a gold tooth necklace just like Jamison’s. He sank to the barstool and reached as if to curl his hand around her nape.

“Hands off.” Ace slapped his hand away and shot a frantic look across the room at Jamison.

The guy followed Ace’s gaze. Turning back around, he was more subdued. “I’m Blake.”

“Ever,” she said with a smile. She sneaked a peek back at Jamison. The artist was working on a dark cuff around his wrist. Jamison’s eyes were black.

“Where did the boss pick you up?” Blake asked.

Ever exchanged a look with Ace. Whatever she said would go into the vault of his mind, and then probably into the laptop humming a few feet away. But she’d long ago learned to always give as pure a version of the truth as possible.

“The Gearhead.”

“Never seen you in there before.”

“I’m new in town.”

Ace raised his brows. “That so?”

“Yep.” She wrapped her lips around her straw and sipped some of the Sex with an Alligator Ace had mixed for her. Jamison had obviously made sure she was comfortable here.

“Where were you from before?”

“Oh here and there.” There—with the Dark Raiders. Here with Jamison. The time between spent in college and as a paralegal, researching her mother’s death, felt like limbo.

She turned the attention from herself. “Where’d you get that gold tooth, Blake?”

He told her the story of Jamison pulling his sore teeth. Then he slipped a smoke between his pretty smile set in a bushy beard. “Only the gold ones seemed to be bad. Had them replaced with some nice new ones.”

“So that’s why Jamison wears the gold tooth.”

“Yep.” Blake blew a plume of smoke.

She looked back at her lover. The artist was making long lines extending up his forearm, toward a skull he’d already had inked before she met him. The man had a large amount of ink, and it was a wonder he even had a space open, let alone a prime spot such as his wrist and forearm.

“Nice dog,” she said to Ace.

His face lit up as he stared at Copilot, lying sprawled behind the bar. “He’s a good rider.”

She grinned and waved at Blake to give her a smoke. “He rides?”

“Yeah, the idiot has a sidecar for him.” Blake tapped a cigarette from the pack. She put it between her lips, and he lit it for her.

“That would be fun to see.” She inhaled and blew the smoke to the side.

“We pleasure ride on Sundays. Looks as if Jamison won’t leave you behind.” Blake threw her a dazzling grin.

“You have any pets?” Ace asked.

She shook her head. “No time.”

“Really? What do you do?”

Caught in her own trap, she pressed her lips together and gave him a vague smile. “This and that. I just moved here, so I’m living off savings at the moment.”

“What did you do before?”

She could practically see the man itching to enter her information. She spun on the stool and scouted for an alliance. As she captured the eye of a younger man, she tried to convey she needed someone to talk to.

He dropped the cards he held and left the poker table immediately. Jamison kept her in his sights, smoking and talking to his artist.

The man walked up to the bar, chain rattling on his hip, and as badass as they came. He wore his brown hair longer, and his espresso eyes twinkled. “You look lonely.”

“Not too lonely,” Ace said, low, twitching his jaw toward Jamison.

“Aghh, let his momma take care of him.” He zeroed in on Ever. “I’m Bunky.”

“Ever.” She extended her hand, which he kissed.

Bunky nudged a guy off his stool, and he stumbled away to wrap his arms around a girl on the dance floor. With Bunky and Blake flanking her and Ace in front, she felt more at home than she cared to admit. She was raised on roughness.

“Where’d you get that red hair, Ever? Out of a bottle?”

She plucked a strand and laid it in front of him. “A hundred percent natural.”

Ace threw a look toward Jamison, his expression dark. “Don’t ask the boss’s lady about her rug.”

They all laughed, and Ace’s expression lightened.

She talked to Blake and Bunky about people in the club and their lives. Blake was in the middle of finding funding for a “new venture.” She didn’t ask about the cause or where they got the money, but she guessed they weren’t standing in front of the grocery store with a coffee can, asking for donations.

She finished her cigarette, and Blake offered her another, which she declined. When she glanced back at Jamison, the tattoo extended up his arm, looking delicate against his muscle. From this distance she couldn’t see what it was.

A woman tapped Bunky on the shoulder, and he vacated his stool for her. She was Ever’s height and wore her chestnut hair in a coil on the back of her head. She was too mature and classy to be a sweet butt, yet she wore the heavier makeup of a club Lifer.

“I’m Carol Ann, old lady to the sergeant at arms, Mitch.” She pointed at a man with thick, white hair several feet away.

Ever was used to sizing up another woman. For years she had to fight to assume the respect she deserved as a vice prez’s old lady. She looked into the woman’s eyes and saw an ally.

“Ever,” she said, shaking her hand.

Carol Ann waved at Ace, who got her a cup of coffee. He pushed the sugar bowl her direction, and Carol Ann added two teaspoons. She shot Ever a look. “Is that green drink any good?”

“Yeah, it is.” But coffee sounded better. She wasn’t about to have too much alcohol. Between Ace and Jamison’s interest in her, she’d surely spill some secret. She pointed to Carol Ann’s mug, and Ace supplied her with one as well.

Then he went to his laptop and spent long minutes typing while she and Carol Ann got to know each other.

The woman had been part of the club when Jamison was only a prospect. She described him as wet behind the ears and too eager to please. But within months, he’d gained respect and was known for his level head.

Ever hung on the story. She wanted to believe good things about Jamison.

“So…” Carol Ann shot her a sidelong look. “I saw a new helmet hanging off Jamison’s handlebar.”

Ever ducked her head and sipped her coffee. “Yeah.”

Carol Ann smiled. “Must be serious.”

“Not at all. I’ve only known him three days.”

She arched a sculpted brow. “That’s all it took for me and Mitch. I saw that man and knew he was mine. I put my arms around him and haven’t let go since.”

Ever’s heart warmed at her obvious love for her man. But Jamison had a past too. “Do you know someone named Amanda?”

Carol Ann sized her up. “Yes. Word travels fast.”

“I heard the name tonight.”

She nodded. “That’s probably because things blazed quickly between him and Amanda too.”

Her stomach bottomed out. She didn’t want to be another in a line, even if she didn’t want to be in that line at all.

“Amanda was about your size. You’re shapelier, though. She was just a sweet butt looking to become more, climb the club ranks. Jamison let her hang onto him for a while, but I don’t know if it was ever that serious.” She took another swallow of coffee.

“They said…it was drugs that killed her?”

Carol Ann cocked her head. “For only being around for three days, you sure know the right stories.”

“I didn’t try, that’s for sure.” She looked over her shoulder. Jamison was finished. The tattoo artist was smearing salve over his skin. She only had another moment to speak to Carol Ann before he overheard.

As if expecting a question, Carol Ann sat up straight.

“Tell me this at least. Has he ever gotten a tattoo for a woman?”

Jamison reached her, extending his arm in front of her. The wrist had a wide, dark cuff of ink with thread-thin stems sprouting from it. Wildflowers waved as if in an invisible wind. The entire piece was inky blue except the flowers, which were blood orange.

Carol Ann’s eyes were bright. She patted Ever’s knee. “He has now.”

•●•

Jamison stared into Ever’s eyes as he slid his hand under her hair. The red tendrils dripped around his new tattoo, mingling with the wildflowers. He shot the ink guy, Paxton, a look over his shoulder and gave a nod. The tat was fucking perfect.

Paxton gave him a thumb’s up. As a brunette walked by, he snagged her around the waist and pulled her down on his lap.

A little loving sounded good right now. Using only his fingers on Ever’s nape, he drew her off the stool. “Come with me, baby.”

Carol Ann smiled into her coffee mug, and Ace gave him a nod. When Jamison placed a hand on Ever’s lower back to guide her away, Bunky clamped his hand around Jamison’s forearm, just above his new tattoo.

“Yo’ momma—”

Jamison glared at him.

Blake released his arm. “Right, man. No jokes tonight.”

Ever chuckled as they walked away. “What was that about?”

“Hang out here long enough, and you’ll find out.” As he led her down the hall to his room, he watched the way she moved. From the top of her head to her little heels, she was sexy. Every curve between ignited him.

He opened the door, and she reached inside for the light switch. He stopped her. “Don’t turn it on.”

He crossed to light the three-wick candle. She sucked in a breath and stepped up beside him. “You’re wearing my ring.” She ran her finger over the gold band and then looked into his eyes.

He dropped the lighter to the dresser top and scooped her into his arms. Turning, he stretched her on the bed under him, reveling in her soft feel. His hips trapped hers, and her breasts against his chest sent a spike of need through him.

Rocking his hips into hers, he let her feel every hard inch. “I want you, baby.”

She smiled, making her eyes tilt up at the corners like a cat’s. “Nothing new there.”

“Yeah, and there won’t be.” He pressed her deeper into the mattress. “You know what the helmet means, right?”

She darted her gaze to the side. “Yeah.”

“You’re not happy about it.”

She shook her head, sending red strands dancing over his new tattoo.

“And this tattoo, Ever. You know what it is.”

She swallowed hard. He stared at her until she grew twitchy and met his gaze. “I know.”

With a heavy sigh, he rolled off her. Slinging his arm over his eyes, he tried to sort out why, for the first time in his life, a woman wasn’t crawling all over him, wanting him to do the things he’d done for Ever.

For a long moment she didn’t speak. Strains of music came from the front room, along with Bunky’s raucous laughter.

“It’s only been three days, Jamison.”

Fuck, he loved hearing his name from her lips.

When he didn’t reply or move his arm, she leaned over him, a hand on his abs. “You know I’m not in the market for a man.”

“You mean an old man.” He moved his arm to see her face.

A worry line etched itself between her brows. “Why does this have to be about more?”

He held up his arm. “I got this because there’s something about you that I’ll never get out of my system.”

Her eyes fluttered shut. When she opened them, they were extra bright. “That’s lust.” She threw her thigh over his and seated herself atop him. The tiny shorts felt damp at the crotch, probably from her earlier orgasm.

His cock strained to get at that wet heat.

Still, he didn’t touch her. She had to reach out to him. His ego was starting to take a hit, but he wouldn’t let that continue. By the end of the week, she’d accept the fact that she belonged to him.

She ground her pussy against his erection, and he swallowed a groan. “C’mon, baby. We have this. Isn’t this good?” She tested her power again, squirming in a way that almost snapped his control.

He dug his fingers into her hips, grinding his teeth against the need to throw her down and bury himself so deep in her that she couldn’t remember a time she wasn’t with him.

He popped the buttons on her shirt again. When he reached the top, she slid his hands over her flesh, spreading the fabric. “Not a dot of ink on this white skin.”

She shook her head.

“How did you manage that if you’ve been in this Life before?”

Her eyes cooled a little. “You’re guessing I was in the Life.”

“You were. The things you see and hear…they’re familiar enough to you that you don’t run.”

She squeezed her thighs around him, drawing him up against her pussy again. He grunted. “I like this part, Jamie. Can’t we have this part and forget the rest?”

No. But he didn’t say that—he was too busy reeling from her shortening his name. No one did that if they knew what was good for them. But coming from Ever, it was amazingly intimate.

Hell, he wanted her so bad he ached. But he needed to hold the rope. If he gave Ever enough length, she’d end up tying him in knots instead.

He cradled her face and tugged her down for a kiss. At the first brushing of their lips, she plastered her body flat on him. Her flavors were as familiar to him as the air he breathed, yet he didn’t know her last name, where she came from, or how he was going to make her let him in.

She moved a hand to his fly, and he covered it with his palm. Pulling from the kiss, she stared down at him. Confusion lived on her beautiful features.

He gently rolled her off him and sat up. Swinging his legs to the floor took extreme effort. He wanted nothing more than to fuck her long and hard. He stood. “Have you ever hugged a candle?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what that is.”

“I’ll show you.” He went to the dresser and collected the three-wick and its plate. Then he carried it to the bed. Ever sat up, and he placed it on her knees. “Careful not to shift much. I don’t want hot wax on your body.”

She shot him a wicked smile. “Maybe I like it.”

“Later I’ll find out how far I can push you. Right now, we’re doing this.” He sat beside her and pressed gently on the outer wall of the candle, creating a wall to keep the melted wax from overflowing.

“That’s it? That’s called hugging a candle? I thought it was going to be sexy.”

He chuckled. “It is sexy. And relaxing. Stare at the flames, let it burn down. Then keep the wax contained.”