Steele: Into Your Heart (Carolina Bad Boys #3 (12 page)

Nick Love was made of the same material, I realized now that I actually liked him. Damn, I was glad Cat had found her way with him. Their touch-and-go was a frigging heart attack in the making, but they’d pulled through.

I envied those two guys. They had it all. Family. Love. Sex that wasn’t so-called NSA. Not that I ever wanted to think about Cat in that way. 1. She was my sister. 2. She could be a straight-up shrew in bitch boots.

I left Josh and Leelee to it after a goodnight handshake. Back at the house, I went for my Harley. The “fuck off” helmet on my head, I whipped across Mt. Pleasant to the Retribution clubhouse. I needed a drink or two or three.

As soon as I stepped inside, everyone focused on me. Some of the chicks even glared at me—Leta of course, but she was just the tip of the iceberg in a long line of “you suck” stares stabbing me.

What the motherfuck?

Several of the guys murmured with deep scowls on their faces.

“Word got out.” Tuck pushed a beer into my hand. His round face was flushed.

“What goddamn word? I got piercings all up and down my dick?” I took a long swallow, wondering where the animosity was coming from.

“Ashe. Officer Kingston.” Tuck tweaked the curly handlebar of his mustache.

“I guess Leta spilled the beans after she spread her legs for her latest conquest. And so what?”

“So, some folks don’t think you should be
parlaying
with the police.”

I barked a laugh so loud absolutely everyone in the dimly lit room redoubled their efforts to bore holes through my head with their eyeballs. “Parlayin’? It’s called getting pussy. And it’s no one’s damn business.”

I drained my beer, hit the bar, and ordered Probie to get me another without even opening my mouth.

Tuck eased up beside me. “You talked a lot of shit about that lady in the past. Some of our members aren’t cool with the sudden fraternization.”

“God, Gramps. Ain’t I entitled to a sweet ride for a week or two without you fuckwits going Maury Povich on me? ’Sides, it doesn’t matter.” I nailed Probie with a quick glance for a shot to go with my brew.

Good dude. He pushed the tiny glass in front of me no questions asked.

I swilled the tequila, taking in the strange turn of events.

“They’re just looking out for the family, Brodie my boy.” Tuck accepted and drained his shot.

“So I brought this on myself.”

“Doesn’t help you fucked just about every broad in here,” he mentioned.

I did a quick tally of all the pussy on offer. “Not
just about
.” I’d done every one of the women, in one way or the other, the dirtier the better. “Boomer know about Ashe?”

“Not yet.”

“Keep it that way. Bribe ’em if you have to.”

“Always.” Tuck gave me a hearty back slap.

The others seemed to have gathered their balls for a good old-fashioned standoff, because they moved as one to approach me. Probably thirty pissed-off cunts, Dirk at the forefront with Leta by his side. Dirk was one of the original charter members. He’d never made the MC officer ranks, and that rankled him. He swam in his own sea of bitterness, which leaked from him like dirty oil dripping from an engine.

“We got a bone to pick with you.” The forty-something dude stomped right up to me. His mean features and low scowl didn’t scare me.

“Make an appointment.” I didn’t do barroom brawls in my own church.

“She’s the pig who arrested your sister!” Dirk’s beetle eyes narrowed on me.

I stood taller. “Exactly what the fuck is your beef?”

“Bros before bitches.”

A round of calls echoed Dirk’s tirade.

Seriously?

I pressed the oversized hairy Hobbit back with one finger on his chest. “This isn’t a fraternity. You don’t get to haze me or Ashe. I’m the VP, and you can kiss my goddamn ass if you don’t approve of who I’m fucking.”

“You admit it?” His voice echoed through the silent room.

“I admit you’re a sad twisted bastard, and you probably need to go up one bra size.” I sneered.

Family?
Sure we were. Not always one big happy family, that was all. Just like the Hatfields and McCoys, we had our feuds. Dirk was hitting a
leeetle
bit too far beyond the amusing
Family Feud
thing by going after Ashe.

Leta took point with that chalkboard-nails screech. “She’s a pig. A snitch. You can’t bring her in here.”

Like it mattered. My relationship is in the shitter before it even started.

That didn’t stop me from blasting back. “Bet your ass I can. And by the way, why don’t you go hook at some other MC, Leta? I’m tired of you.”

Her ear-splitting howl curdled my eardrums.

Tail, Handsome, Tuck and the Probie kid lined up beside me.

Tuck said, “All right-y. Get back to what you were doing. You heard Brodie.”

“One more thing that ain’t any of y’all’s business. I’m done with Ashe, so you don’t have to worry.” Or rather, she was done with me.

I wasn’t about to let Dirk’s dirty tactics drop, though. I grabbed him by his vest and pulled him up to my face. “You were a loser Day One. And you’ll be a loser when you go down. I can’t wait to make that happen. Cunt.”

Dirk scrabbled away as soon as I let him go. Funny. I almost laughed.

“That was a dick thing to say.” Tuck frowned at me.

“Oh yeah? I got more coming.” Add that to the long list of reasons Ashe didn’t want to be with me.

I stalked out the door. Again without looking back.

Long Shot

TWO WEEKS AFTER ASHE kicked me out, I did the solo routine, and I started early. If I’d wanted company that Saturday afternoon I’d have headed to the club. Instead I nailed my ass to a barstool at Wild Wings and decided to try every brew on tap.

The live music from the band on the little kitty-corner stage drilled into my eardrums. It wasn’t too lame. Besides, I had a huge capacity for drowning out white noise when I wanted to. That included so-so music, Boomer droning on at me, and things like screeching babes working the jilted-lover-rage in days of old. That sort of white noise went in one ear and out the other. Yet despite my ability to ignore women at will I couldn’t forget the sound of Ashe’s voice when she basically told me to take a hike.

It was actually kind of ironic Ashe had booted me out. I’d pulled the same don’t-care maneuver a lot. So I guessed I had it coming.

I finished my beer and motioned for another. Setting my elbows on the bar top, I stroked my goatee and avoided making eye contact with any of the women around me as they jockeyed for position. I’d spent the weeks surfing, riding, working, and decidedly not getting laid at every opportunity. That right there was a total game changer for me. I was used to hitting the tail hard, at length, and whenever and wherever I wanted. Finding the honeys was never a problem. They usually hit on me.

Like right now for instance. I’d been inside the bar approximately fifteen minutes when the first woman who wanted to spread-eagle for me did the boob-to-arm-
oops
rub. She angled her poofy Angelina Jolie lips at me in a smile that was all about an invitation to get down and dirty in the backroom. She positioned her I-do-yoga body to the max as she leaned even further against me.

My skin crawled on contact. A few weeks ago, I’d have been all over that. This time I glared straight ahead. Clearly misinterpreting my signals, li’l spin-class momma giggled and—surprise—
accidentally
dropped her purse. Which meant she had to bend over and wiggle her Pilates-made ass at me.

Funny. What I wanted was a woman who rode a bike just like she rode me. A woman who was strong enough to put me in my place, get me in cuffs, tie my tongue in knots. Someone who had her own career and her own life. Yeah, that. Too bad The One didn’t want to include me in her life, too.

Glower.

Cue the cutesy
OMG
giggles from the tantric temptress’s girlfriends.

Jesus.

In the past I’d have done girl number one—the chick brave enough to approach me—made sure she got off a few times, then I’d have probably gone a couple rounds with one or two of the others.

I’d been that guy for so long it felt like my entire fucking philosophy about
fucking
had been turned upside down and inside out. I didn’t want fast. I didn’t want anonymous. I didn’t want a crowd of babes in my bed. And I didn’t want easy. At least that much was self-evident since I still had the mega-hots for the least easy, most complicated woman I’d ever met.

I did a whole lot of ignoring along with a very clear
go the fuck away with you
non-stare at the co-ed and her groupies. They probably cried in the bathroom stalls after they eventually gave up on me. ’Z’if I gave a shit.
Broody Brodie.
That was what Cat called me when I got like this. As if she was one to talk.

“Buy you a drink?” The question came from a sweet feminine voice I was hopeless to forget.

Ahh, shit.
I snapped to attention. My jaw tensed and my leg started jiggling all because Officer Ashe Kingston sidled onto the stool beside me after quietly voicing her question.

“No offense, but you should just fuck off outta my sight.” I cracked the knuckles on one hand before curling my fist around my beer. I didn’t look at her except for a quick glance to the side. That nanosecond was enough to tell me she looked good, smelled good, and she instantly put my body on edge. “Not in the mood. In fact, I got a headache comin’ on.”

“Patron. Two,” she ordered as if I hadn’t said a word.

I muttered a curse. What really sucked about this bar—just like so many others? There was a goddamn mirror on the wall of booze bottles. So try though I might to avoid eye-groping Ashe, I ended up with a front row view of her.

She didn’t look relaxed, if that was any consolation. She stared straight ahead, just like me. Our eyes clashed, hers dark gray, mine light blue. My gaze dropped, following the line of her neck and the soft round shoulders bared by her tank top.

Enough.

I drained my beer and stood.

Ashe placed her hand over mine. “Just one shot, Brodie, that’s all I’m asking for.”

“Why?” I wanted to pull my hand free, but her warm touch felt too good. “Tell me why I should.” I still refused to look at her head-on.

She inhaled and then quietly exhaled. “I missed you.”

“Fuck, woman. You got a funny way of showing it.”

“I’m not good at this stuff.”

I snorted. “No shit?”

Ashe reached up to draw her fingers along my hard jaw, and I choked on my breath. “Please, Brodie. Just one drink.”

Sitting my ass back down, I accepted my Patron and clinked it to her glass. I swallowed in one, as did Ashe.

“Done.” I slammed the shot glass back down, and stood to leave again. “Just one drink, right?”

I almost chuckled when Ashe rolled her eyes and groaned. “Fine. Two drinks, the next one will be longer.” She ordered again then mumbled, “Asshole.”

“If you think calling me bad names is the way to get back in my pants, babe, you got it all wrong.”

“I thought you liked my smart mouth.”

“Never said that.” I tipped up her chin and rubbed my thumb over her lips. “Like what you do with it though.”
Danger, danger, full speed ahead.
I pulled my hand back as her moist lips scorched me.

“Long week?” she asked.

I snorted again. “You could say that.” It’d been a pile of shit topped off with a big load of
fuck you
all around. “You?”

“Same.”

The longer drink included a beer and two more shots of throat-burning Patron, which we finished in no time at all, but Ashe’s hand drifted into mine. Even though we hardly talked, there was some kind of solace in sitting there together, holding hands.

She played with the chunky rings on my fingers and the tats trailing down my arms to the back of my hand. Her touch sent a wakey-wakey call to my cock. Big surprise.

Eventually I pulled away and dug out my wallet. If we weren’t going anywhere but back to her bed for another rousing sex-fueled night ending with me getting my ass kicked out, I’d rather head home alone.

“I said I’d pay,” Ashe opened her big leather bag.

“Don’t really like women buyin’ me drinks.” I flattened some bills on the bar.

“Why not?”

“Don’t like feeling like I owe something.”

“Oh.”

Yeah.
Owing things, like sex, with no strings attached.

Ashe bit her lip and cast her eyes away. She fiddled with her fifty-ton bag—probably carried the cuffs around with her.

I stilled her fingers with a brush of mine. “Can we go to your place? I think we need to talk.”

****

As soon as the taxi pulled away from her house and her door closed behind us, intense attraction snapped between us like a live wire. Ashe’s eyes hit me, and two seconds later my back hit the door. High octane. Undeniable lust. Uncontainable heat. Uncontrollable need. We crashed together with tongues lunging into wet heat, hands searching for hot skin, moans dragged from plundering mouths.

I needed to stop this before we ended up naked and on the horizontal . . . possibly the vertical the way Ashe practically climbed up my body.

Greeeeeat time to grow a conscience to go along with my colossal erection.

“Stop.” I lowered her legs to the floor, gently pressing her back when all I wanted to do was rip off her clothes and roll her under me.

Ashe tried to kiss me again, but I turned my head aside.

“Stop, goddammit!” Rubbing the heel of my hand against my forehead, I leaned back, panting. “Goddamn it, Ashe.”

“What? What’s the problem?”

I barked a rough laugh. “Kiddin’ me? I told you I’m not doing this with you.”

“Brodie . . .” she whispered my name, the velvety sound shooting a shot of lust right to my groin.

“Don’t fucking
Brodie
me. Lemme clue you into something, lady. I’m not gonna be a random fuck buddy for you, got it?” My dick stood straight up in a WTF move. Hell, my cock almost jerked me to her of its own accord. “I didn’t come here to keep your sheets warm. I came for some answers I think you damn well owe me.”

There was the slightest possibility I read too much romance schmaltz and needed to spend more time on ToughGuysFuck.com. But whatever with that. I had the feels for this woman, and I was done being a doormat, doorstop, dick-on-a-leash.

Ashe stepped back. “I’m not used to answering to anyone.”

“Clearly.”

She headed for the sofa and slumped onto it, looking like a month’s worth of worries weighted her shoulders. I walked over, finally seeing her living room by the full light of day. Christ, anyone would think I was one of Nick Love’s vampires by the way Ashe tried to keep me in the dark.

Pretty place, colorful, matching cushions and stuff, framed photos and paintings . . . But that was just background noise to whatever ate Ashe up, and everything she refused to talk to me about.

“I don’t do relationships.” She looked at me with dark gray eyes.

“Got that. Why not?”

She did the shrug thing. Her little shoulder lift didn’t put me off, but it did piss me off.

“It’s not an easy hook-up I’m after, and Lord knows you aren’t easy. If I wanted straight-up sex I could get that without even lifting a finger at least four times a night.”

“Pig.”

“Yeah, maybe. But I don’t use women. I give ’em exactly what they want.” I shoved my hands through my hair and paced in front of her. “I really like you, Ashe. And guess what? I’m not cool with being your secret fuck toy.”

“Brodie, we can’t be together.” She screwed her eyes shut.

I swung toward her. “And why the hell not?”

“I don’t want to get attached.”

“Ditto. Too late.”

“I have a daughter,” she breathed the words out softly.

I rocked back on my feet. “What?”

“Cara. She’s eight.”

I scanned the living room, and yep—right there on the mantle—a picture of a grinning girl with Ashe’s blonde hair in long pigtails.

Pretty kid, and one Ashe obviously didn’t want me to meet. More bad news to my heart. I dropped into a chair. “Oh, fuck.”

As soon as I splatted down, Ashe jumped up to take over the ring-around-the-rosy pacing. “I don’t want you to be in her life. Hell, I’m not even sure I want you in mine.”

My stomach bottomed out.

“She’s been hurt before by her dad not being around all that much. That’s why I don’t have boyfriends.” Ashe turned toward me. “I don’t even know if you’re relationship material, and I cannot take that chance with Cara. Okay?”

That stung. But I didn’t let it show. I was Brodie Goddamn Steele after all. I’d almost been a dad once, so the fact Ashe didn’t think I deserved to be around
her kid did my head in a little bit.
Twice stung.

“So you kicked me out the other week because . . .”

“Cara’s dad was in town to see her, and he was on his way to drop her off.”

“Nice, Ashe.” I shook my head at the floor. “Real nice.”

“You don’t get it! I don’t want her knowing about you. I don’t want her to think there’s any chance she’ll have a real father. I don’t want Cara to think you’re my boyfriend and getting her hopes up, okay?”

“Christ, you’re a real fucking piece of work, you know that?” I stood up, making her drop back a pace. “Jesus. I don’t know whether to think you’re a bitch or a goddess.”

Right now? Bitch, for sure. She’d judged me so many years ago she wasn’t willing to give me a real chance now. I’d done the same, no doubt, but at least I was ready to man up about what was happening between us.

“What you don’t get is maybe I want a relationship with you, Ashe. Maybe I’d like to get to know your daughter. Fuck me, it would’ve been nice to know you’re a mom—let’s start there. You think I don’t respect that or would make you look bad in any way, ever? Especially in front of your kid?” I wanted to jerk some fucking sense into her. I spread my hands over her hips, bringing her flush against me. “You got a really low opinion of me, don’t you, lady?”

“I can’t afford any mistakes in my life. Cara’s father is hardly involved. I’ve done this alone for so long, Brodie,” Ashe whispered. Her hands moved to my shoulders, and behind to my neck.