Never Kiss an Outlaw: Deadly Pistols MC Romance (Outlaw Love) (9 page)

“Yeah, well, you know how the culture is. Girl's always end up doing more than they bargained for the longer they deal with skanks and a buncha horny drunks. Money's money, and it starts to get real sweet. 'Specially those nice girls – they act out the most when they get a sniff of their first dick, or maybe just their first dollar...”

Club charter said you never pointed a weapon at a brother without a damned good reason. Right now, I had to fight with everything I had to keep my gun trained on the ground.

“Today's your lucky day, brother. You're getting one good break you don't deserve. I'm gonna give you one chance to get up, apologize, and walk the fuck away before I break your jaw.” I took several heavy steps toward him, watching the little shit's goatee twitch.

“Skin would've done it by now, if you'd shat on his old lady as much as you did my girl. You're so damned stupid, you're wrong. These girls aren't dumb fucking sluts – not like the pussy you've got warming your dick every other night.”

With a dark look, Sixty stood, clicking the last piece of his rifle into place. He walked inside cradling it without looking back, slinking off to find a bottle and one of his best drinking mates like Crawl.

Joker looked at me, still stroking Bingo. I cocked my head and spoke through clenched teeth.

“What? Brother needs to learn when to shut the fuck up. He's always been bad about running his mouth, leading himself into trouble he oughta know full well to stay the hell away from.”

“He ain't the only one.”

Ah, shit. Now I'm gonna get a lecture from Mister Crazy Eyes?
I thought.
Where the fuck did I sign up for this shit?

“You wanna elaborate?” I growled, standing back and lifting my gun. I aimed at the last dummy I hadn't blown to smithereens, its paint chipping off, giving it one ugly looking face.

We'd gotten ourselves a small army of the damned things from a junk run for bike parts a couple months ago. All the boys used 'em for target practice now.

“Sixty's better with his face buried in a bottle. So are you, brother,” Joker said, his voice a low, guttural whisper. “You're calling her your girl. You're getting too attached. Prez told me he warned you. Doesn't look like you're listening.”

My gun barked.
Shit.

My shot only grazed the dummy, took half its face off, and left the other half staring at us in an even more fucked up, creepy way than it had been before.

“That's my biz, Veep. Nobody else's. I'm man enough to keep my dick from dragging with a mind of its own. What happens between me and Cora, that'll stay behind closed doors. Won't ever become a problem for the club.”

“Bullshit!” Joker spat, wiping his blade on one thigh. “You ignore Dust's advice, point blank and stupid, it becomes his problem. That makes it the club's, too.”

We shared a long, tense look. Between us, the big, hairy wolfhound looked confused, wondering why two men who shared the patch were suddenly at each other's throats.

Too bad that'd been the norm half the time in this club. Scarce coin and pussy turned men on each other, but we always rallied before the big dogs from outside came in and tore us apart.

Didn't doubt for a second every man who called me brother would take a bullet to save my ass, and I'd do the same for them. We had our disagreements. Big and small and completely fucked up.

But we always rallied. Always. And I told myself I wouldn't let any pussy come between it – even though Joker's words pissed me right off.

I didn't get it. His concerns were bullshit.

Who cares what the fuck happens between me and Cora? He's acting like it'd be any different than all the other times, like when Skin got the whole club behind the whore he rescued.

I looked at him, watching as he cleaned his blade, the only thing he seemed to care about besides club duty and that damned dog.

“Brother, you know I've always put this club first, second, and third. You think that shit'll stop because I'm chasing some skirt the Prez doesn't like me going after, you're wrong. Wrong as fuck.” I kicked the empty shell casing on the ground with my boot. “Go ahead and squawk about how I'm after his best friend's daughter. Rat me out to Dust. I don't give a shit. By the time he gets my dick beneath his blade, it'll have been up inside her, and then I'll be done having anything to do with her. I'm gonna fuck this shit outta my system, and then none of us'll have any more distractions.”

“I'm no rat,” Joker growled, holding up his blade to study it. He laid his hand down flat on the old stump, his dog at his side, and spread his fingers.

Great.
I turned away in disgust. He couldn't help giving everybody around him a freakshow, ready to risk his fingers again on his ritual, his trademark, stabbing down into the empty spaces on the wood.

“Prez'll find out sooner or later, whatever the fuck you do. Whatever, ain't my problem. Last time I try to save myself some grief before I gotta find a new Enforcer.”

“Save it. I'm not a fucking fool,” I snapped. “I'm not going anywhere.”

“Truth is, we're all fools here, brother,” he said, slowing the thrusts of the knife between his fingers. “I'm not just telling you this shit because I make whatever Prez says law. Just don't want to see you fucked over.”

We shared a long, tense look before he spoke again.

“Go away, Firefly. Get away from her. Go back to pumping iron, boozing, and fucking bitches you won't remember. That's the kinda fool this club needs – anything different is gonna make you dangerous, make you stupid, and weaken us all.”

Fuck him. I'd run outta shit to say.

I walked, slinging my shotgun over my shoulder and heading into the clubhouse. The dog whined behind me, drowned out by the steady, quicker
thump-thump-thump
of the crazy Veep's blade on wood. One day, the psycho would take a finger off doing that shit.

Today, it made him feel alive, just about the only thing that ever brought a spark to his eyes and adrenaline into his blood.

Bastard was right about one thing – every man wearing this patch was reckless in one way or another. Up until today, I'd have sworn he was the only fucker here who was certifiably insane.

But as I headed for the weight room we'd set up for a workout, I had to wonder. Veep's words made too much sense. And that made me want to kick holes in the wall.

My brain, my body, my whole fucking system couldn't un-see it. All my weaknesses, the chinks in the armor I'd forged for more than a decade in the trenches.

Shit stuck to my head, and wouldn't fucking leave. Not even when I had my shirt off thirty minutes later, finishing my tenth set of reps with a couple hundred pounds hanging over my head, sweat pouring down me in rivulets.

The girl was fucking me as bad as I wanted to fuck her – maybe worse.

I told myself I'd be done with it as soon as I finally had her. Shoving my cock in the pink and feeling them shake and scream always cured me before. Soon as my seed was dumped and the fire in my nerves got doused, I moved on, never looking back.

Same damned thing had to happen here. Even if she carried a little more risk because the Prez was soft on her outta some bullshit obligation I didn't understand.

I'd own her, dump her, and move the hell on.

Fuck, I had to.

If I started feeling more for this woman than just the urge to lose myself in her tight, untamed cunt, then all the crazy shit Joker warned about was on the table. And if it got to that point, I had an ugly feeling I'd wind up even crazier than him, blind to everything I'd ever worked for by pussy doing its voodoo magic.

“Goddamn.” I sat up and swore.

Lifting usually calmed my ass down, but today, it wasn't doing shit. I toweled off and fought the urge to rush the punching bag, sweat myself stupid 'til I passed out by throwing punch after punch at the sleek, black leather.

I settled for five more reps, increasing the weight 'til it took my whole body to stop my biceps from popping outta my skin. I grit my teeth 'til they nearly shattered and counted out each blinding, heavy load I pressed.

One.
That was for the first day I saw her, the wounded little dove, sexy and sassy on the darkest day of her life.

Two, three.
That was forgetting to wash my pillows, breathing in her scent all night, and waking up with my dick so swollen and hard I could've used it to bust concrete.

Four.
That was for threatening to spank her, imaging how she'd squirm, scream, and squeak when my palm crashed against her skin. She'd probably come when I tanned her ass without me even touching her clit, and then I'd lose my fucking load in my pants.
Fuck.

Five.
Those goo-goo eyes she made at me last night, when I gave her the apartment. Couldn't stop imagining those ocean blue eyes staring up at me while her lips were wrapped around my cock, sucking me off like she needed my seed in her belly to stay sane.

“Fuck!” Snarling, I pushed the barbell overhead one more time, barely shoving it back into place before it smashed my ribs.

Every damned muscle in my body died, save one. My hungry, crazy dick stood up in my shorts like a missile ready to fly.

I had to stamp this girl outta my head, sooner or later. There were only two ways to do that – fuck her, or level with her.

Option A would've been a whole lot more fun.

But option B – that evil, boring motherfucker – might be the only thing in the world that'd stop me from bedding her and screwing up my head forever.

I ignored the blood pounding in my dick the whole way through my shower. Then I dressed, stuffed the extra shit in my locker, and got on my bike.

In a couple hours, I'd be picking Cora up and driving her home after another late shift at the Heel. Hadn't heard from her since she'd checked in this morning.

The whole long ride through the Smokies, staring down at Knoxville's lights winking through the night, I swore I'd get this square.

Tonight was the last night Cora fucking Chase was gonna be rattling around in my head like a wet dream I'd had for a thousand years.

Tonight, I'd tell her where the fuck we stood. Then I'd find the nearest bottle of Jack, Johnnie, or Jim and two dirty sluts who'd slobber on me all night.

I'd drink, fuck, and burn her outta my head forever.

* * * *

“T
rish, Velvet, Cream – you're all up! Three girl act. Move your asses.” The light caught Cora's blonde hair something beautiful as she clapped her hands.

She slapped her palms together in a steady, loud clamor 'til the dancers moved. Their heels clicked across the floor. If they grumbled, they kept that shit to themselves, high tailing it through the curtain to the stage, where a rush of horny catcalls greeted 'em.

None of the bitches mouthed off. Whatever the fuck she'd become, it clearly worked. I barely recognized the anxious little caterpillar we'd picked up about a week ago. She'd come outta her cocoon all spitfire.

Maybe Sixty was right about this place changing girls. Just not the way he said.

Whatever was happening here, it was dangerous. Seeing the shy girl slink away and the woman emerged made me want to bite her damned sexy lip even more.

“You about done?” I said, putting my hand on her shoulder.

She whipped around and smiled when she saw me. “Firefly!”

Fuck. Seeing this honey all over her lips wasn't gonna make tonight easier. I'd have preferred vinegar for what I had coming – plus it would've anchored my cock down better.

“Yeah, sorry, I was just wrapping up. Night manager was a little late, and all the girls move faster when I tell them, ever since the fight.” She grinned. “Feels good, to be honest. I never thought I'd be great at this job, but that's changing.”

“Yeah, babe, you're doing well. No fuckin' doubt about it.”

Goddamn, I've gotta stop calling her babe,
I reminded myself.

“Listen, we'd better hit the road so I can get you back to your place. Weather says it's gonna be storming tonight.”

“So what?” She wrinkled her nose and pushed a hand through her hair, fluffing it, like giving the threat of getting soaked the finger. “We can wait it out. Let's have a drink at the bar across the street. If it's still raining when we head out, I don't mind. I've got a nice, warm shower waiting at home, thanks to you.”

She did it. Before I knew what the fuck was happening, her little arms were around me, her nails digging into my muscle like I'd just handed her the moon.

Fuck. Shit.
I had to put a stop to this now, dammit, or I never would.

“No more of that,” I growled, pushing her away. That lead ball in my chest did a fucking nosedive, and my dick demanded to know
what the fuck
I was doing.

“Huh?” Confusion clouded her beautiful face. Didn't make me want her one bit less.

Nothing about this shit was easy.

“This crush, Cora. Don't bullshit me. We've both got something going between us, clear as lightning cutting through the summer sky. Just as dangerous too because we ain't grounded. I know the Prez told you to stay the fuck away from me. He said the same to me. Means we can't have this flirting and teasing.”

I didn't tell her he'd threatened to cut my dick off. Wasn't sure it'd have mattered anyway with the way she shook her head, stepped up to me, that defiant smile pulling at her lips.

Christ. Was she wearing gloss? I wanted to bury those hot little lips in mine, set them on fire 'til they burned right off her pretty face.

“And you're just going to let him push you around?”

“Nobody's telling me to do shit, darlin'. This is
my
decision. I helped you out, and as far as I'm concerned, my job's done. Any man in this club with a little free time can drive you home. From now on, you'll be riding with our prospects, Tinman and Lion. I've got other shit to shovel.”

“That's too bad. Really.” She tried to sound upbeat, but I could hear the hurt invading her voice. That sassy look on her face became pure poison. “I'll have to get drinks with them, I guess. Maybe they'll be more fun than you, Firefly.”