CHAPTER EIGHT
Lilli was walking across the yard toward him as Isaac pulled up. Damn, she looked good. The sun hadn’t yet set, and as she walked, he could see flashes of belly where her shirt was open. Her hair was pulled off her face but still long and loose, and she looked fucking perfect. Pair of badass biker chick boots around her calves, too. She was going to look amazing riding bitch with him tonight. The thought made his balls twitch.
They had some shit to talk about, but it could wait. For now, he just wanted to take this woman out and let the town do with that what it would.
“Hey, Sport. You look damn good.”
She smiled and walked up to his bike. “Thanks. You look exactly the same.”
“Well, I’d’ve gotten pretty for you if I’d known you were dressing up. Nice boots.” He handed her a helmet, but before she could put it on, he hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her against him. With his other hand on the back of her neck, he drew her head down for a lingering kiss. “Mmmm. Nice. I assume you know how to ride bitch?” She gave him a look that said it was a stupid question. “Okay, let’s give the people a thrill.” He swatted her ass and released her, and she mounted the bike behind him.
~oOo~
Isaac didn’t often ride with a passenger. It was an intimate thing, riding with a woman wrapped around him—more intimate, in his mind, than sex. Lilli rode well, moving with him smoothly, instinctually. They seemed to be physically in sync in all sorts of ways. He was well on his way to a boner by the time they approached No Place.
As usual on a Saturday night, Tuck’s was packed. The music was blaring through the walls and out into the parking lot. There were a few clumps of people drinking around their trucks, not having yet made it into the bar. Isaac pulled up in front, noting that most of the Horde were already inside. He liked the club to keep a strong presence here, especially on Saturday. Live music and a larger number of women tended to make the men extra scrappy.
They dismounted, and Lilli handed him the helmet he’d lent her. She passed a careless hand over her hair, and that seemed to be the extent of her concern about it. Damn, he loved that, a woman who just was who she was, looked like she looked. He’d noticed that she’d primped some tonight, but he couldn’t even tell for sure what she’d done. Her beautiful grey eyes stood out more, and he liked that just fine, but they weren’t buried under black crap, like a raccoon. Whatever fuss she’d gone to tonight, it was working.
He took her hand—she flinched a little, but didn’t pull away—and he led her inside.
Didn’t take long for them to have the attention of the room, despite the dim lighting and the live band. It was too early yet for the dancing to get really started, so people were arrayed at the tables, which had been pushed along the walls to make more room for the dancing that would come. The wags had had a couple of days now to get the word out. Isaac nodded and smiled as he led Lilli through the room, shaking the hands that were extended, but not stopping to introduce her. He wanted to get to the bar and have her meet his brothers first. They all had opinions about her and about his interest in her. They would be her toughest audience.
Looked like almost all of the Horde was lined up at the bar. Before they’d arrived at the bar side of the room, the band—Jesse’s Wild Bunch, one of the regular acts that cycled through, playing shit-kicking country with a little bit of blues mixed into the third set—announced its first break, and the sound of the room shifted down to conversation level, at least until somebody got around to feeding the juke.
With his hand at the small of her back, Isaac gently pushed Lilli to step in front of him. Then he just went down the row. “Lilli, I’d like you to meet my MC brothers: Showdown, Bart, Havoc, Dan, Len, and CJ. Down there at the end is Rover, he’s prospecting for the club.” Each man nodded cordially when his name was called. Lilli stood in place while he named them. Then, when he was done, she walked down the line with her hand out, shaking each man’s hand. She smiled prettily and said something low to each; they leaned down to hear and then came back up with a smile.
Holy fuck. She was flirting. She hadn’t even flirted with him. By the time she got down to Rover, who was fucking blushing when she was finished with him, she’d won the whole crew of idiots right over. She walked back toward Isaac with a little pop in her sway. Minx.
She turned back to his brothers. “You boys fancy doing a couple of shots of tequila with me?”
Havoc piped up from his seat halfway down the bar. “Never leave a lady drinkin’ alone. My daddy taught me that.”
Lilli leaned over and caught Rose’s attention—actually, she’d had Rose’s attention for that whole show, but now the bartender came over with a dry smile and a wink. “That’s shooters for the line, then?”
Lilli winked back. “Yes, ma’am. The good stuff. And we’ll probably go a few times.”
Rose nodded. “The whole show?”
“Absolutely.”
Isaac stared at Lilli in bemused awe while Rose lined up nine shot glasses and expertly filled them with Patrón and set them in front of the Horde and Lilli. She dealt cocktail napkins like playing cards and put a wedge of lime on each one. Then she handed Lilli a shaker of salt.
“There you go, sugar. You get it started.”
Lilli grinned at Rose and then at Isaac, who had not picked up his glass. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. This was a different, vastly less guarded version of the woman he’d been spending time with. His brothers, all of them, were staring at her hand as she licked the space between her thumb and forefinger. She did it slowly, her tongue extended just enough and sharpened to a firm point, fully aware of her audience. Then she shook salt over the wet spot.
Isaac’s cock pulsed and swelled.
She offered him the salt shaker but he shook his head. Shrugging, she slid the shaker to Showdown. Every man salted his hand. Isaac couldn’t believe that, either. These were men who drank their booze straight. Fuck, they hardly bothered with glasses. And here they all were, salting their hands, with little lime wedges on napkins in front of them.
Their hands salted, Lilli raised her shot glass, and they all did the same. Isaac took his, now, too. They all watched as Lilli licked the salt off her hand—doing that sensual little thing again—and tossed the tequila back. She picked up her lime, and the men watched as she slid it into her mouth and sucked it. When she set it back on her napkin, the meat was almost entirely gone. She’d sucked it clean.
He wasn’t surprised. Lilli had an extremely talented mouth. But his men were transfixed. None of them had drunk but him. When Lilli slammed her glass back on the bar, it shook them out of their pornographic fugue, and they did their shots.
Isaac knew what she was doing. It was brilliant; he simply hadn’t expected it. As beautiful and feminine as she was, she was so not girly, she confounded his expectations of women in so many ways, that he hadn’t even considered that she could play the sex kitten. But she’d read the situation, caught the vibe of mistrust his men were sending her way, and she’d played their expectations against them. She’d made herself a hot piece of ass.
Well, she couldn’t help but be that. But now that was all his men saw. They were disarmed.
They ran that line three times, her treat. She looked no worse for doing three quick, generously poured shots of top shelf tequila, but Isaac wanted a long, pleasant evening, so he thought it best to get some food into her before she got it in her head to make any more friends. He stepped behind her, pressing his body to hers, and whispered low in her ear, “Share another burger with me?”
She turned her head slowly, tucking into his neck a little. “How do you make a boring sentence like that sound so hot?” Maybe she was feeling the shots a little, after all. He grinned and kissed her nose.
“That a yes, then?” She nodded, and he caught Rose and ordered.
They took their food to a table that emptied as Isaac led Lilli to it. Soon enough, they had two more tables pushed to theirs, and all of the Horde were sitting with them, stealing fries until Isaac ordered three more baskets of them. The Horde didn’t, as a rule, pick up women at Tuck’s. They drank and they kept the peace, in their way. They usually headed back to the clubhouse, where women were primed and waiting and didn’t need sweet talk. So Lilli had their full attention.
They had a few beers with the food, and Isaac—who drank daily, was big, and thus had a very high threshold for drunkenness, so high that he rarely breached it—watched Lilli mellow, her focus soften. There was something underneath her buzz, though, that he couldn’t quite read. He’d caught her giving him sly, almost greedy looks, and when he touched her, she reacted strongly. Not enough for the dolts sitting around them to notice, but he definitely did.
Then he got it. She was horny. Here in the middle of the bar. Well, wasn’t that interesting.
The band started its second set while they were eating, Isaac and Lilli sharing the burger with each other, the fries with everyone. People all over the bar started getting up this time to dance, and Isaac saw Lilli paying attention.
The second song came up, and the dancers immediately lined up. The band was covering Trace Adkins’ “Ladies Love Country Boys.” Oh, Isaac couldn’t pass that up.
He brushed her hair from her shoulder and leaned in close. “C’mon, Sport. Let me show you how to dance.”
“I know how t’dance, asshole. Tol’ you that already.”
Was that a little slur he heard in her speech? Nice. Lilli off her guard. He was looking forward to that, but he wanted to play it slow, so he needed to make sure she paced herself. Plus, she had to ride back with him. “Well, let me show you how we dance around here, then.” He stood, bringing her up with him. She let him lead her to the dance floor, and Isaac taught Lilli the Electric Slide.
She was right. She could really move. Even tipsy, she picked up the steps quickly—not that they were all that hard—and she was loose right off the bat, her body instinctively, fluidly moving with the beat. He watched her hips sway. That ass. Damn. Just . . . damn.
He was glad when the dancing shifted into pairs and he get could get his hands on her. He taught her the two-step, another easy dance, and she took to it immediately. He was surprised to find that she willingly let him lead. He put her in a spin, and she came back beautifully. He did it again, though, and she looked a little woozy. Drunk Lilli. Isaac was charmed.
With a saucy smile, she went up to her tiptoes and leaned close. Reading that she had something to say, he bent toward her, and she said in his ear, “Your music sucks, but you’re a great dancer. It’s really hot.” He laughed and brought her even closer.
But being so close to her, her hips moving against him, was driving him crazy. And it was increasingly apparent that drunk Lilli was extremely horny Lilli, because she was all up on him, making the most she could of the closeness and movement while they danced. She was working up a sweat, too, and he found the way tendrils of her hair clung to her face and neck, and the way her white! blouse was dampening, and the way she smelled—all of it, everything about her—was just too fucking much.
He danced her to the edge of the floor and growled in her ear, “We need to sit down and get a drink, or I’m gonna drag your amazing ass to the restroom and bend you over the sink.”
She tipped her head back and grinned at him, her bright grey eyes hooded. “You see me stoppin’ you?”
Jesus Christ.
“I’m not jokin’, Sport.”
She only raised her eyebrows, challenging him. Knowing full well the show they were putting on and not giving a starving rat’s ass, he leaned down and kissed her ravenously, exulting in the eager movement of her tongue with his. Her arms looped snugly around his neck as she opened her mouth wide and let him have his way. He grabbed her thighs and pulled her up, hooking her legs around his hips. And then he walked them back toward the restrooms, ignoring the hoots of his brothers at their table.
He got her into the ladies’ and locked the door before he released her legs and let her slide them back to the floor. Still kissing her, he walked her backward until she bumped against the sink, and then he spun her around. She put her hands on either side of the old-fashioned porcelain bowl and looked at him in the mirror. He met her reflected gaze in the glass and brought his hands around her waist to undo her jeans. He moved quickly, yanking them and her –oh, nice—sheer white lace thong to her knees. He pushed gently but steadily between her shoulder blades until she bent forward. Then he snagged a condom from his wallet, opened his belt and jeans, and rolled it on.
“Come on, come on, come on,” she whispered.
“Easy, baby. Gimme a sec to get dressed. Told you I don’t intend to knock you up.” Condom on, he grabbed her hip in his left hand and slid his right down her ass and between her legs. God, she felt good, silky and so damn wet. “Fuck, Sport. No wonder you’re impatient. You’re so wet I could drink you.” He flicked his drenched fingers roughly over her clit until her hips bucked and twitched, then he positioned himself and slid easily into her.
“Oh, fuck yeah. Go hard.”
He was deep in her, and she was tight and hot. He was already panting with the need to move. And this had to be a quickie. But they’d had really rough sex less than 24 hours earlier—blood-in-the-bed rough sex. “You sure? After last night?”
She looked up and caught his eyes in the mirror. “Go!”
He took her at her word, starting off hard, slamming into her as hard and fast as he could. She bucked against him, her hands clutching the sides of the sink, her knuckles white. “Fuck, yeah! Yeah! Fuck, make me come! Harder, God, harder!”
Holy shit, this woman. He folded over her, bringing his hands from her hips to take her clit and a nipple, sliding into her top and pinching her through the soft lace of her bra. He was rough and moved fast, pinching and pulling as he drummed into her. She was making no effort whatsoever to be quiet, but the band was still playing, so people would have to be clustered around the restroom door to hear. Not that that wasn’t likely.
As worked up as she was, he was at least as much, though he was keeping comparatively quiet, biting his lip viciously to do so. He was worried he was going to come before her. He was alarmed at how often he had trouble holding off with her. It was not usually a problem.
But then she was coming, shouting wordlessly, her muscles clamping down around his throbbing, hypersensitive cock. He grabbed her hips again and held off until she was finished and then, with just a couple more deep, powerful thrusts, he came, too, grunting, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips, until he thought he’d collapse.
He rested his forehead on her back for a second, but then she stood straight and pushed back from the sink, making him slide quickly out of her and take an awkward step to keep his footing. She pulled a couple of paper towels from the dispenser and wiped herself. Pulling up her jeans and thong, she looked at him in the mirror and said, “Probably should get back out there.” She washed her hands and waited by the door for him to pull himself together.
An abrupt end to an intense fuck. He was spun.
~oOo~
They closed the bar. Aside from a few parking lot scrapes, easily dispensed with, and one rowdily inebriated Darren Brown to contain and find a ride home for, the night was easy. They drank, they danced. And they’d fucked. They’d done another couple of rounds of shots between the band’s second and third sets, and Lilli was on the edge of being too drunk to keep her seat on his bike. From that point, Isaac’s mission became keeping her at that level of drunkenness and no more.
Lilli danced with all of the Horde who asked her. Isaac was pleased to see that she kept more distance from them than she had with him, but he also noticed the way all the men’s—all of them, not just his brothers—eyes tended to focus on her ass while she moved. It pissed him off. He understood it—Lilli had the kind of ass you see in ads for sexy underwear. Or on biker pinup calendars. Impossible not to appreciate. But he was feeling more and more territorial about her with each passing day. Fuck, with each passing hour. And he knew the town already considered her his, so he would have to respond to any challenge to that. So he glowered at his brothers dancing with her until he couldn’t take it anymore. He swallowed back the rest of his beer and stood up.
She was dancing alone, suddenly. Dan, her most recent partner, was headed off to the john. Isaac started making his way to her, around the tables and chairs, and the weaving bodies of drunk dancers, when he saw Steve Bohler grab her and spin her around, trying to dance with her. She pulled away sharply, but Bohler grabbed her again and put his hand square on her ass.
Oh, that asshole was going to lose that hand.
Isaac charged forward, plowing through the people on the dance floor, but when he got to Lilli, he stopped short. He didn’t see what she’d done, but Bohler was on the floor, clutching his throat and not breathing much at all. She must have punched him, her and her big silver rings.
Isaac touched Lilli’s arm, and she spun on him, backing off instantly when she saw it was him. “Asshole got fresh. Frien’ a yours?”
He brushed her cheek, while Bohler continued to writhed unattended. “You okay?”
“Sure. Room’s a little spinny, but I’m good.”
“You mind if I take it from here?”
“He’s all yours. I’m gonna sit.” She wandered unsteadily back to their table, and Isaac grabbed Bohler by his shirt, got him to his feet, and dragged him outside. He met Havoc, Len, and Show coming in, looking like they’d just been scrapping, too.
Show got a look at Isaac and Bohler, and asked simply, “Need help?”
“Nope. Somebody stay with Lilli. I’ll be back.”
“He hurt her?”
“She hurt him. But he took liberties. Needs a lesson.”
As he dragged Bohler out and to the back of the building, he heard Len tell Show, “I got his back.”
When he was done with Steve Bohler, he was well certain that there was no amount of drunk that would cause that cooker to forget his manners again around any woman, much less Isaac’s. He shouted a reminder as he was mashing Bohler into jelly.
His woman. Fuck. He had a woman. Hell, it had been his idea. He wanted her. She was not whom she claimed to be, and he needed to give a shit about that. She could be a threat to the club, and that made her a potential threat to his town. But he wanted her anyway.
He turned, shaking the blood off his be-ringed hands, and saw Len leaning against the corner of the building, regarding him curiously. Isaac walked past him without a word and went back in to find Lilli.
~oOo~
They left when Tuck and Rose closed up. Lilli had sobered up a little, but Isaac was still concerned about her ability to sit the bike. When she’d made the turn from buzzed to drunk, it had happened quickly. Something for him to keep in mind. Still, she’d managed to disable Bohler handily. Isaac wondered what she was truly capable of sober.
He pulled her close. “You good to ride, Sport?”
She smiled up at him, and in the sodium glare of the parking lot lights, he could tell that her eyes weren’t quite as focused as he’d like. “Abso-tive-ly. Let’s ride.” She grabbed her helmet and fumbled it.
Alrighty. He made a snap decision. For this woman, he was doing lots of things he’d made a point not to do. Why not keep it up? His place was half the distance hers was. He was bringing her home.
He mounted, and she climbed on behind him—a bit awkwardly, but not so bad that he thought they’d have to hoof it down to the 7 Eleven for a giant coffee.
“Hold on tight, Sport, okay? Don’t want to lose you.”
She laughed. “You’re just tryin’a get felt up.” But she did—she held him tight, and he felt her breasts on his back, her thighs squeezing his.
He took it slow, but they were still pulling up to his house within fifteen minutes. She dismounted and took a quick extra step, finding her footing. “Hey. Where are we?”
He’d purposely neglected to tell her where he was taking her, figuring she’d fight him, and it was much harder for her to do anything about it from here. “My place. C’mon, I’ll show you around.”
She glared at him, standing akimbo. “Did I say I’d stay at your place?”
“You didn’t say no.” It wasn’t a lie—he hadn’t asked, so she hadn’t refused. His assertion confused her, and diffused the fight in her. He held out his hand, and she took it. He led her into his house, which was unlocked, for the most part. There was a room in the house, as well as two outbuildings, he always kept locked. Otherwise, he only locked up if he was leaving overnight.
As soon as he got her into his front hall, she yanked on his arm, pulling him back to her. She reached up and pulled the band loose from his braid, unwinding his hair. Then she fed her fingers into it and brought his face down to hers. Before she kissed him, she asked, “Got sheets on your bed?”
Fuck it. He’d show her around in the morning. They’d talk in the morning, too. Getting her to talk might be easier when she was like this, but he could get it done when she was sober. What Bart found out was best discussed in the light of the day, anyway. His hands under her shirt, on the satiny, firm skin of her belly, and then on her back, unhooking her bra, he kissed her.
“I do. Wanna mess ‘em up?”