Wicked Nights (2 page)

Knowing the situation, the Skulls had most likely heard that Mason had been acquitted. The Skulls Motorcycle Club was known as Tampa’s most notorious motorcycle gang. They were linked to the deaths of many, including cops and other law officials who stood in their way. They were also linked to a large drug chain that brought cocaine and heroin to the streets of Tampa. She’d learned through dealing with the Wicked Angels that they were in a territorial war with each other. The Skulls thought they could come to Tampa and take over the city, whereas the Wicked Angels informed them that they couldn’t.

Both weren’t groups the average citizen wanted to mess with. She’d turned down the Wicked Angels MC twice before Mason had finally convinced her to take his case. He had a rap sheet as long as a short novel. As she’d studied him, she’d realised he’d been part of the MC for nearly all his adult life and had the record to prove it. She didn’t know exactly what had made her want to take his case, but once she had, she’d realised the evidence against him had been fabricated.

Which brought her back to the present. Calling the cops was not the best idea in a situation like this. She’d learned that cops and MCs were like oil and water. The slightest little inkling of foul play would have Mason in jail with the Skull’s president, Marco Fowler.

After nearly five minutes of constant gunfire, the chaos outside finally settled, and Addison lifted her head, listening. Boots thumped towards her and she closed her eyes, hoping and praying that it was Mason on the other side. She pulled her legs to her chest and stared at the door with her phone in hand.

It wasn’t unusual for a criminal defence attorney to receive some heat for getting a client acquitted. She had represented some of Tampa’s worst scum, rich scum who paid off everyone and everything they could. She made it very clear to them that she couldn’t be bought, but when some people had it in their minds that someone was guilty, they refused to believe anything else.

“Addy?”

Addison stood and unlocked the door. On the other side, she saw Mason glancing around with concern on his face. She straightened her suit skirt and stared at him.

“It seems someone doesn’t like me very much.”

He reached out a gloved hand. “Come on. Those bastards won’t bother you anymore.”

“The Skulls?”

He didn’t say anything, and Addison declined his proffered hand, moving past him. She glanced around the room. Matty, Duke, Rage and Lile had come with him as backup. They stood in various parts of her destroyed office, taking in the damage. Filing cabinets lay on their sides riddled with holes and pock marks. Papers littered the floor. Bullet holes marked various levels of the drywall. The front windows had splintered into fragments of glass all over the ground.

“Oh, my God. What am I going to do?” She turned towards Mason. “I have other clients, you know. I have a reputation. I-I… You said when I took your case that I would not be in the middle of your gang war.”

Mason walked towards her. “I didn’t think it would be this bad. I promise it won’t happen again.”

She shook her head. “What am I going to do?”

Mason licked his lips. “Guys, take five.”

The minions filed out like little robots. She folded her arms over her chest, fully aware her shirt accented her cleavage and that Mason was staring. She didn’t care. The whole situation pissed her off.

“Addy,” he licked his lips again, eyes still focused on her chest. “This was my fault. I’ll fix it.”

She clenched her teeth. “You may get away with that pretty boy bullshit you pull on your little groupies, but this is the fucking real world. You don’t get to simply say ‘I’ll fix it’. It’s not your life you’re screwing with—it’s mine.”

His gaze coasted slowly down her body. “You think I’m a pretty boy?”

“I think you’re a jackass.” She wasn’t budging.

He grinned, finally meeting her eyes.

“If you think for one second that I can be charmed into anything, you’ve obviously forgotten who you are talking to.”

Mason let a cocky grin slip past his tough exterior. “You know, I bet you’re a lot of fun in the sack.”

“You will never experience that first-hand.” She turned on her heel and searched the area for her purse. “You know, I’m not inclined to keep your secrets if it could potentially harm the life of another person, and since it’s my life we’re speaking of here, I think that is grounds for breaking the lawyer-client confidentiality agreement.”

He gripped her arm and pulled her around to face him. “I promise you that I won’t let anyone hurt you. All you have to do is let me protect you.”

She blew out a breath. “You can’t make promises like that. You don’t control others.”

“I promise I will keep you safe.”

Her breath caught as he slid his hands down her arms. His straight white teeth shone bright against the five o’clock shadow covering his chin. He saw the effect he had on her and Addison’s anger only grew.

“You or your goon squad?” She jerked her arm away.

He chuckled. “Both.”

“Like I said, don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She turned away. “I’m not cut out for this. I’m a lawyer. I’m not a freaking mediator for two motorcycle gangs.”

His arm snaked around her waist and pulled her against a very hard, very nice, warm body. Hard chest, hard abs, hard thighs. Damn, she didn’t want to know what else was hard, but got the idea the moment her ass rubbed against his crotch.

His lips brushed against her ear. “Don’t tease me when you’re not going to follow through.”

He splayed his hand against her stomach while the other one reached for her purse. She stopped moving, held her breath and waited while he collected her things. He smelt nice. Leather and oil, some kind of sexy cologne that she didn’t recognise. She closed her eyes and took it all in.

“You’ve got two options. I send you home with three of my goons who will stay outside your house all night. Or you come home with me. Your nice little Mercedes is shot up, so you’ll have to ride on the back of a bike in that very sexy little skirt and the fuck-me heels.” His hand slipped down a few inches, resting on her lower stomach. “But it’s your choice, Princess, of whose bike you want to ride.”

She turned, narrowing her eyes at him over her shoulder. He’d planned this ride, she’d realised all too late. It wouldn’t surprise her if he hadn’t had this all mapped out from the very beginning.

“My car is shot up?”

“Yeah.” He played with the hem of her shirt. “So whose bike you want on?”

She grabbed her purse from his other hand. “Not yours. And not any of your goons either. I’ll find my own way home.”

She dodged the mess in her office, heading towards the door. Before she could make it very far, Mason came up behind her, turned her around and lifted her, fireman style.

“Put me down!”

He laughed. “Not for a million bucks.”

With one hand, he squeezed her ass. He walked outside, moving past his goons who simply laughed and climbed on their bikes. Addison hit at his back, which only caused him to slip his hands higher up her bare thighs. He grabbed her purse as she swung it at him, pulling it around and out of her reach. She was completely helpless, draped over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

He locked her purse in his pannier before finally putting her on her feet. She tugged her blazer down and glared at him in the dark parking lot. Even in the moonlight he looked gorgeous. The shadows hid his face, though she could see his chiselled jaw and the outline of his lips. His leather cut hid his upper body, but he looked pretty damn good standing before her, hands on his hips, ready to battle. She swallowed hard, trying to remember why she was pissed.

“Looks like we’re having a sleepover.”

Oh, yeah.

Addison gnashed her teeth together. Domineering men. She was a grown woman that did not have sleepovers with bikers. Not even
hot
bikers. Plus she had court in the morning. She didn’t need to think about going to his place or what all he had planned for their little sleepover. No way in hell.

He threw a leg over the motorcycle seat and stared at her. “This would go so much easier if you’d simply hop on the back of my bike so we can get out of here.”

“I don’t like you.” There. That told him. “Why would you ever think I would want to go anywhere with you, much less on a damn motorcycle in a fucking skirt!”

He watched her a moment. “You need me to protect you. This is me protecting you. Get on the fucking bike.”

He turned the key in the ignition and the motorcycle roared to life. She wore an expensive suit with very expensive Christian Louboutins covering her feet. She couldn’t get on it even if she wanted to.

Addison contemplated why this was even an issue. She could walk away. In all the time that she’d known Mason, he had not once demonstrated to her the violent side that he’d been in and out of jail for. For the most part, he was a domineering man used to getting his way, but one she’d grown to like. She wasn’t sure why, though. She had no real reason to like him. Actually, after all that she knew about him, she had more reasons not to like him. Even in her anger, she still couldn’t quite figure out what it was about him that made her contemplate riding on the back of his motorcycle in that moment. Because even though she could walk away, she knew very well that she’d end up riding with him, leading to a completely different problem.

“I’m only telling you one more time, then I’m leaving you here. Get on the bike.” His voice was barely audible above the sound of the pipes.

She scoffed, studying the seat behind him. “I’d love to know how you think I’m going to ride that damn thing in a pencil skirt.”

He pulled her to him and stuck his hand under her skirt. Addison made futile efforts to push him away, but once his hand touched her ass, he withdrew. She should’ve slapped him. This went way beyond a client-lawyer relationship. He was a criminal, for fuck’s sake. She should have knocked him out with anything lying near. He tugged her skirt up until it barely covered her ass.

“Hold on to me and climb on.”

She fumed, though she did what he said. Her leg wobbled on her four-inch Louboutins as she tried to straddle the damn vibrating machine. She hated motorcycles. Everything about them.

Mason pulled her against him, her pussy pressed firmly against his back. The vibration of the bike had her gripping the edge of the seat while he lifted her legs to his lap to pull her shoes off. “Put them in the pannier.”

After doing so, she realised that they weren’t alone in the parking lot. All his little goons were watching her, and warmth singed her cheeks.

“Your friends are getting a peep show,” she yelled over the noise.

Mason turned slightly, his lips close to her ear. “Lucky men.”

Before Addison could respond, he revved the bike and they took off into the night. Addison shifted on the seat, trying to get comfortable. Every movement had her pressed against Mason, the vibrations doing wonderful things to her. She knew she was wet within seconds, and the more she shifted to ease the torture, the more she felt she’d fall off. She clutched Mason’s cut, holding on to him, wrapped around him for fear of face-planting the pavement. No wonder women loved men with motorcycles. It offered a fucking vibrator and the chance to wrap around a hard male body at the same time.

She closed her eyes, trying to ignore her body. He led her through the city and down towards the Apollo Beach area before finally turning off the main roads. She didn’t know what she expected or if she’d survive their ‘sleepover’ but when they pulled up to a nice beach house with the gulf crashing to shore behind them, she was pleasantly surprised.

He rolled to a stop in the drive and killed the engine. Addison’s body still vibrated even though the vibration had stopped, her pussy still pressed against his back, which only embarrassed her more. He’d told her not to tease him if she didn’t plan to follow through. Plastering her pussy against him and rubbing probably hinted at far more than she really intended. She let Mason’s cut go and scooted away the best she could.

“Nice place,” she said, finding her voice. “Is this where you woo your women?”

He smiled. “No wooing of women here.”

“No, you just hike their skirts up and nearly flash all your goons in the parking lot of a shot-up attorney’s office.”

He climbed off and held his hand out for her. She took it, trying to figure out how to get off the damn motorcycle gracefully. Her panties were soaked. She thought about asking him to turn around, but he looked pretty damn entertained by her predicament. The bike, by nature, forced her legs apart, and he made no motion of glancing anywhere but her crotch. She gave up and slung her leg over, ripping her skirt.

“God, I hate motorcycles.” She said it even though she knew she was a liar. She stood on the hard ground and pulled her skirt down the best she could. The tear went up nearly two inches from her crotch not giving her much modesty. She grabbed her shoes and purse from the panniers.

“Really? You didn’t seem to hate it too much on the ride here.” He licked his lips. “You were humping my back the entire way and I’m willing to bet that sweet pussy of yours is completely wet.”

She met his eyes. God, she had practically humped his back. He pulled her against him and she barely had time or room to move away. She put on her poker face. “I am
not
wet. And I was
not
humping your back. I’m in a fucking skirt. Do you know what it’s like to be in a skirt on a motorcycle? No, I didn’t think so.”

He tried to hide a smile and lost. “Then I guess you’re glad you’re wearing panties.”

She scoffed. “Asshole.”

He kept his eyes on her almost to the point it became uncomfortable. She stuffed her feet in the tight Louboutins. “I don’t have any clothes.”

“You won’t need them.”

She glanced up. He stood there in all his machoness looking like a fucking god in the best wet dream imaginable. She slugged his stomach hard. Before she realised the nature of her offence, he grabbed her. For the second time that night, Addison learned belatedly that she was in trouble. He clutched her ass and pulled her against him. She tried to push him away, but her arms, caught between his chest and her boobs, prevented her much movement.