The Sinner’s Tribe Motorcycle Club, Books 1-3 (23 page)

See your blood price. Grab her ass. Send her a message she'll never forget.

Utterly primitive, wholly possessive, his touch awakened something deep inside her, sweeping away civilized notions of self-respect and independence and awakening a deep primal desire to submit to his unspoken demand.

But when he squeezed her ass, punctuating the possessive move with a satisfied grunt, desire gave way to being really pissed off. Clearly his fancy speech about respecting women was baloney.

Steeling herself to control her shaking hands, she looked back over her shoulder and glared. “Why don't you just stamp ‘Keep Off' on my ass? Save yourself some time.”

His gaze met hers, hot, sensual, and unyielding, sparking a firestorm in her blood so intense, she thought she might combust.

“I just did.” He smoothed his hand over the curve of her buttock, his fingers perilously close to the seam. “If anyone is unclear about my meaning, I'll kill them.”

“Caveman.” She muttered the word under her breath, never thinking he would hear.

Jagger's hand tightened, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, a pleasure pain that made her mouth water.

“I walked in here, and every man in front of you was looking down your shirt and every man behind you was staring at your ass.” He smoothed his hand over her buttock, rubbing away the pain. “It took every bit of my self-control not to pound all their fucking heads in because I knew what they were thinking.”

“What were they thinking?”

He slid one hand around her waist, pulling her up and against his rock-hard chest, the bulge in his jeans pressed firmly against her rear. “They wanna be the one with their hand on your ass, telling you ‘later' has come and it's time to go.”

Sweat trickled between her breasts and her mouth went dry, but as menacing as he was, the fate she might suffer at his hands couldn't compare to what faced her if she lost the match. “I'm in the middle of a game. I'm up three to two in a best of three.”

“It's over.”

Damnit to hell
. With his men watching and the civilians shooting surreptitious glances their way, she couldn't tell him to back off and let her finish the game. He'd likely just throw her over his shoulder and storm out the door, and any hope of inveigling him in the future would be lost. No, this called for a subtler approach.

She wiggled free, then leaned over and took her shot, just scraping the outer edge of the ball, making it spin and then curve into the side pocket. A trick shot. Risky, but she needed to make a point.

Jagger grunted. “Impressive.”

“I have five grand riding on this game.” She kept her voice low. “I'm here for business, not pleasure.”

Jagger twisted his hand through her hair, tugging her head back until she was looking up at him over her shoulder. Then he leaned down and brushed his lips over her ear. “I don't think you understand what it means to be mine.”

She nuzzled her nose against the deliciously rough bristles of his cheek, inhaling his scent of leather and musky male, hoping to distract him. “And I don't think you understand who you think you've claimed.”

He growled, a low, possessive, entirely thrilling sound. “Don't push me, sweetheart. This is as far as I go.”

Her heart pounded in time to ZZ Top's “I'm Bad, I'm Nationwide now playing through the speakers.” Over in the corner, she spotted Peter waving his pool cue and gesturing at her while T-Rex and Wheels held him back.

“I have only two balls left and then a quick meet with Bunny and I'm free to go. I get where you're coming from, but this is important to me. I need to finish playing, and I need to win.”

Jagger reacted as if she'd slapped him, his body jerking back. He grabbed her shoulder, pulling her up and spinning her to face him. “That's why you came here? You're involved with fucking Bunny?”

She bit her lip but held his gaze. “We have a business arrangement, but first there was a matter of a debt to clear. If I win, the debt goes and we deal. I gave my word.”

His face contorted into a fierce scowl. “And if you lose?”

I have to suck his dick
. The words danced on the tip of her tongue and she amused herself, imagining what would happen if she told him. But that wouldn't be fair to Bunny. He didn't deserve to die tonight. Instead, she said, “That's between him and me.”

Wrong thing to say, judging from Jagger's scowl. So she turned her back, lifted her cue, and made her call. It wasn't going to be easy. The cue ball lay over a ball, and she would have to shoot the length of the table off angle. “One ball in the corner pocket.”

Jagger's eyes widened. “You got a jacked-up shot there. You really think you can shoot off angle?”

Seizing on his curiosity, she smiled. “Watch.”

Her shot was perfect. The one ball slammed home and Cade whistled in appreciation.

Jagger curled his hand around her neck and pulled her close. “You're mine means you don't need to meet with people like Bunny. But you made a deal and you gave your word, so I'll respect that. Finish your game. But I handle Bunny. He owes you, I collect. You owe him, I shoot him between the fucking eyes. Not doing this because I don't think you can handle him. I know you can. But Bunny needs to understand we got your back.”

Every inch of her body protested his intent to take control of the situation, but she bit back her words, gritted her teeth, and nodded her agreement. Jagger wasn't an ordinary man who might be cajoled or persuaded. Just like Viper, he was a king, used to giving orders and having them followed without question. She'd wrung a concession from him that Viper would never have given, and if she wanted to maintain her advantage, she would have to play the game.

“I like the part about shooting him between the eyes,” she said lightly, trying to hide the quaver in her voice. “Because I have a feeling, deal or no deal, word or not, you won't be down with what I agreed to do if I lose.”

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, and pleasure rippled down her spine. “Like it when you play nice, but don't think for a second I wouldn't drag you out of here and throw you on my bike if that's what I want to do.” He held her gaze, his dark eyes burning into her soul. “I have reasons for letting you stay that have nothing to do with that smart sassy mouth.”

“You're just dying to see me make the next shot.”

Jagger laughed and released her, then settled himself on a chair at the end of the pool table, legs spread, arms folded across his chest. All alpha. All the time.

Arianne looked over her shoulder and bit her lip. “What are you doing?”

“Watchin' what's mine.”

“This isn't your ass, Jagger.”

The look he gave her, sensual, sinful, sent a wave of molten lava pounding through her veins. “You are mine, Arianne. And later, I'm gonna make sure you understand just what that means.”

 

THIRTEEN

Members may not involve old ladies in club business without prior consent of the president or they will get an ass-kicking.

Two nights after the incident at the pool hall, Jagger got a call that put an end to his plan to spend yet another night showing Arianne what it meant to be his.

Raw instinct burned inside him as he watched her fueling his bike. He'd been hard since met her at Banks Bar and treated her to a preview of what was to come against the brick wall at the back of the bar.

Entirely her fault
. Usually he had no problem exercising restraint, but when his little minx had whispered in his ear all the naughty things she'd been fantasizing about all day and then let him feel just how wet those fantasies had made her, he had to have her right then. Up went the skirt. Off went the panties. Pop went the buttons on her blouse. And he'd taken her as rough and hard as she'd begged him to do. Yeah, he liked it dirty, but nothing turned him on more than a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn't afraid to tell him.

She'd also let him know what she thought of his plan to let the prospects take her vehicle home from the parking lot behind Banks Bar, but he would only yield so far. He wanted her on his bike, her soft body tucked up against him. Safe from Viper and Axle, but not safe from him.

A truck rumbled by and he walked away from the pumps so he didn't miss anything Gunner had to say. He knew the news would have to be bad for Gunner to call, but he wasn't prepared for a total disaster.

A panicked Gunner gave him the details. The team was at the Black Jacks ice house. Everything was prepped and ready to go, but Bandit had let them down. Axle's protégé hadn't been able to set the explosives, and now they were sitting ducks, up on a hillside, with a stolen truck that was supposed to be rigged to blow. They needed Axle. Or someone with his expertise, and they needed him now. The window of opportunity between shift changes was closing. What did Jagger want him to do?

Jagger scrubbed a hand over his face. He couldn't remember the last time he'd reneged on a promise. And certainly not a promise to fuck a woman senseless. Nor could he remember a time he'd wanted a woman so bad, he'd been tempted to put aside his duty to the club and indulge himself simply so he could think straight again.

But he had to go. He had enough munitions experience to rig the truck. Problem was, he would need to take Arianne with him. He had just picked her up from work, and they were only twenty minutes from the ice house. No time to take her back to Sparky's place and no fucking way was he leaving her alone in the seedy East side of Conundrum.

He assured Gunner he was on his way, then tucked his phone into the pocket of his cut.
Later
was going to be even later than he'd planned. As always, duty would have to win out over desire.

“We gotta make a quick detour,” he said when he returned to his bike. “Job's gone bad. Should only take a few minutes.”

Arianne slid onto the seat behind him. “I'll entertain myself by thinking naughty thoughts.”

Christ!
As if he weren't hard already. “How ‘bout you think about telling me what was on that piece of paper Bunny gave you the other night?”

After Arianne had sunk the eight ball, Bunny handed over a piece of paper with the greatest reluctance—and only after Jagger and Cade had disarmed his bodyguards and left them moaning on the floor. Clearly Bunny never intended to give Arianne the information he had been forced to hand over at gunpoint. Jagger didn't want to think about what Bunny had planned for her, but he'd left a few of the brothers behind to make sure Bunny got the message that Arianne was now under Sinner protection.

He'd fully expected Arianne to tell him why she'd gone to Bunny in the first place. But she'd tucked the paper away, and every time he raised the question, she gave him that cool smile he had come to realize meant the subject was closed for discussion. He'd indulged her for two days now, and this would be the last time he'd ask … nicely.

Twenty minutes later, they joined Gunner and his team at the top of a grassy hill overlooking the Black Jacks' darkened warehouse. Although she stopped mid-stride when she saw the ice house in the distance, and the truck set to blow it sky high, Arianne made no comment other than that it might be better if she stayed with the bikes. A sound decision, given the questioning glances being exchanged between the brothers on the job.

It took him less than five minutes to diagnose the problem and thirty seconds to rewire the explosives. Bandit apologized profusely, but Jagger held only himself to blame. Bandit had worked with Axle on only a handful of jobs, and he should have known better than to send out his brother with no mentor to guide him.

“You ready for the block?” Gunner lifted a concrete slab from the back of the cage, and Jagger nodded. They had only to drop the block on the accelerator, lock the steering wheel, and let the truck fly.

“Where the fuck is Cade?” Gunner grunted as he walked the block over to the truck. “He's supposed to be sharing the load.”

Zane looked up and grinned, his teeth shining white in the semidarkness. “I'll bet he's banging Arianne's friend again.”

“Jesus Christ.” Sparky closed the truck's hood. “Has there ever been a day he wasn't banging some chick? I swear, the minute he walks into a room, they're all over him.”

Gunner heaved the block into the truck. “They're not all over me, and I'm just as good-lookin' as him.”

“Except you have no hair,” Wheels called out from his vantage position on the rise.

“And you're missing a coupla teeth.” Sparky chortled.

“But he does have a few extra rolls.”

“And a few less smarts.”

“Can it.” Jagger cut them off with a growl, hoping to stop the conversation from degenerating any further before Arianne heard them. “Too much noise. He's with T-Rex, doing a last perimeter check.”

“It's ready.” Zane yanked on the doors and then pounded twice to let Gunner know to lock the steering wheel in place and get the block into position, while they waited for Bandit's signal down by the warehouse.

“Can't believe you brought her to watch us blow up her daddy's ice house.” Zane joined Jagger at the top of the rise.

“We were close by. Couldn't just leave her on the street.” Jagger folded his arms and turned to face his oldest friend. “You got something to say, Zane? I'm here, putting her in danger, because, as always, it is ‘club first.' That a problem for you?”

Zane held up his hands, palms forward. “Just sayin' a job like this is no place for a woman. And bringing her here sends a message the boys won't forget. Just want to make sure it's the right message goin' around and not that she's got you so twisted around her finger, you can't do what a man's gotta do without having her by your side.”

“If you weren't my oldest friend, I'd kick you out of the club for that kind of disrespect.”