Payback (Viking Bastards MC) Page 4

  If only he wasn’t Gage Reynolds.

  Yeah, well, he is. Get over it.

  He slings me a grin, but the tension etching his features is clear. Despite my best intentions, I glance at his crotch, and there’s no mistaking he’s still rocking a hard-on of massive proportions.

  He swaggers over to me, and I’m not sure if that’s his usual walk or whether it’s because of his erection. A bubble of nervous laughter threatens to escape, and I bite the inside of my mouth before I embarrass myself even more.

  “Hold that thought.” He kisses me again, and it’s hard not to wrap my arms around him. Jesus, what’s wrong with me? Just because he can get me off barely trying is no excuse to be seriously considering his offer. I pull back, which he clearly isn’t expecting, and take a deep breath.

  “I’m not staying tonight.”

  He frowns, obviously not used to having girls turn him down. “Sure you are.”

  “No.” I can’t help forking my fingers through my hair again. It’s a terrible habit when I’m nervous, but it’s better than grabbing his cut and slamming him up against the refrigerator. “Look, things got out of hand just now, but I meant what I said. I’m not having sex with you.”

  Because sex, of course, is full penetrative cock-in-pussy. Fooling around doesn’t count. If I tell myself that enough times I might even start to believe it.

  There’s a dangerous gleam in his eyes that should scare the shit out of me, but just makes me want him even more.

  “What’re you saying? You don’t want me touching you again?”

  “No, I’m not saying that.” Oh, my fuck, did I say that out loud? What’s wrong with me? The last thing I need is for him to touch me again. His gaze is relentless, and I fold my arms in the hope that will somehow clear my mind. “What I mean is touching’s fine if you can respect boundaries.”

  Just shut the fuck up, Amy, and go home. I’m making this situation worse with every ridiculous word that comes out of my mouth. I’m never going to see him again after tonight. We don’t need to have a freaking conversation about boundaries.

  “Boundaries?” He looks as though he hasn’t the faintest clue what I’m talking about.

  And if he wasn’t Gage Reynolds in the first place, I wouldn’t even want any boundaries between us.

  I unfold one arm and draw a never-ending circle in the air with my finger. “Yeah. You know what I mean. No more wandering hands.”

  He’s watching my finger as though he’s never seen anything like it before. I freeze, fist my hand, and refold my arms before I do any other stupid thing.

  Finally, he drags his gaze back up to mine again. There’s a wary edge about him that wasn’t there a couple of seconds ago, and I brace myself for whatever’s coming next. How do I manage to get myself in these situations?

  “You’re not a virgin, are you?” He sounds like he’s just asked me if I have the plague or something, and, not for the first time since I’ve met him, I have the inappropriate urge to giggle.

  “Are you?” I toss the challenge back at him, since first, it’s none of his damn business, and second, I have this mad need to wind him up a little.

  “Not since I was fourteen.” There’s a hint of a smile on his lips now. “What about you?”

  “I was nineteen and a half.” Actually, nineteen, five months and three days, but hey, who’s counting?

  He visibly relaxes, and his smile turns predatory as he strokes a lazy trail along the side of my face with one finger.

  It’s hard, but I tilt my head to break contact. “Boundaries.” It’s a shame my voice is all husky, since I sound as if I’m giving him encouragement instead of a warning.

  “Why?” His question is a low throb that perfectly matches the thrum of my blood. I swallow, momentarily swayed off course. This is why I can’t come back tomorrow—because sooner or later, I’ll fall right under his spell.

  My brain is so fried I have no idea what he’s talking about. “Why what?” Now I’m croaking, which is so not sexy. Not that I want to sound sexy.

  Of course, I do.

  “Why’re you giving me such a hard time?” His sinful smile is more than enough to cause excitable little flutters in my pussy. It’s like all my lady parts are on high alert, just waiting for another hot session with Gage the sex god. “We both know how much you want me.”

  Yes, I do, but I don’t like having my nose rubbed in it. “Arrogant son of a bitch, aren’t you?” It’s not a question, and I wish I sounded pissed off instead of breathless. “I hardly know you, and I don’t do one-night stands.”

  Just one-night orgasms…

  Instead of backing off or laughing at my prudery, he appears fascinated, which is so not the response I expected. Unless he thinks I’ve just issued a challenge. Wouldn’t surprise me. Jesus, I’ll be glad when this night’s over.

  Liar.

  “You mean you only put out if a guy takes you on a date first.”

  That isn’t what I mean, and the stupid thing is I’m offended he even thinks that. It doesn’t matter what he thinks. Why do I keep forgetting that?

  “I go on plenty of dates. I don’t end up sleeping with them all. And just so we’re clear, I pay my own way, all right?” Nice one, Amy. So much for playing it cool. He’ll know I’m pissed off with him now. Except, a part of me does want him to know, because he basically told me he thinks I use sex as a payment for a freaking date.

  “I don’t do the dating thing.”

  I ditch my pride and take a hasty step back. “Good for you. No one’s asking you to.”

  Instead of taking the hint, he comes in close and plants his hands on the counter, effectively trapping me between his arms. Again. It’s like I’m doing it on purpose or something.

  “I’ll take you out Sunday afternoon.”

  Wait. Did he just ask me out? For a moment, my brain goes numb as his sexy gaze ensnares me, but then I catch his cocky smile and reality crashes back in.

  “Did you hear what I just said?” There’s no way I’m going out with him on Sunday, or any other day, but I can’t seem to control my tongue when we’re together. “I’m not making an exception for you.”

  His grin damn near sucks all the air from my lungs. “Keep telling yourself that, baby.”

  “Don’t call me that.” Okay, so I like it when he calls me baby, but I shouldn’t and that’s the point. “I’m a sex-free zone.”

  That sounded so much cooler inside my mind, and it really should’ve stayed there since Gage’s lips twitch as though he thinks I’m adorable. Damn Kat and her stupid comment. All Gage sees when he looks at me is a piece of pussy. I know how these guys think.

  It’s the reason why I was so sure I’d be immune to Gage Reynolds, not only for who he is, but what he is. After the way the Wolves treated my mom all those years ago, there’s no way I’ll ever get personally involved with a member of an MC.

  Not even for you, Dad.

  Chapter Five

  Amelia

  It’s almost two thirty when I arrive home. I’m not sure how I feel about living less than fifteen minutes away from Gage. For the last ten years, the Viking Bastards were like the boogeyman, something to hate and plot against in the dead of night, but it’d never occurred to me that in real life they were so nearby. Did Mom know that when we ran from the Silver Wolves we ended up right by the Bastards territory?

  As usual, Mom left the front room and hall lights on. She hates me working nights. Well, unless I can find another job this weekend, I won’t be for the foreseeable future.

  I make myself a coffee and tiptoe up the creaky stairs to my tiny bedroom and dump my cell on the desk. Rex left a text a couple of hours ago, but I’m in no hurry to call him. In any case, I said I’d let him know when I had any info, and the only thing I found out tonight is that I can’t go through with it.

  As my laptop boots up, I collapse on the bed and peel off my boots before I pull an envelope from my jacket pocket. Gage didn’t even blink when I asked
for my wages up front. There’s no reason to feel guilty. I worked my tail off all night and earned every last cent.

  Guilt crawls through me anyway. I feel bad that I’m going to let him down, which is batshit crazy. I don’t owe him anything, and it’s not my problem if he thinks I’m playing hard to get. Guys like him never have to work for it. I might’ve only been thirteen when my old world imploded, but I remember the life, the girls who’d hang around the Wolves, desperate for any kind of attention from them, and how the brothers would casually share their conquests like they’d share a beer.

  Not that I was supposed to notice things like that. I was the eldest daughter of their enforcer, and as such, I was pretty much untouchable.

  I take my laptop and get myself comfortable in bed. My shift at Mama Coco’s Diner doesn’t start until eleven, which gives me a good two hours to work before I need to grab some sleep. As always, when I open my latest document, anticipation zings through me at being able to dive into my imaginary world again.

  This is my real passion, the reason I work odd hours—so I can write down the stories that crowd my head and fall in love with guys who’re never going to break my heart or crush my world. Only this time, as I read through the last chapter with the hero being all macho and shit, all I can see in my mind’s eye is Gage Reynolds.

  Being all macho and shit.

  I wince. But it’s no good. I have the sinking feeling he’s going to be the inspiration for my next few heroes, whether I want him to be or not.

  …

  Gage

  I usually hang out at the clubhouse on Saturday nights, and tonight’s no different, except for the first time, I was tempted to stay at Odin’s. To see Amelia when she turned up for work.

  It’s crazy. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about her all day, and that’s after I jacked off in the shower last night and this morning. I should’ve taken Ruby up on her offer after the bar closed, but Ty beat me to it.

  I didn’t fucking want Ruby in any case.

  Weird, but the memory of my uncomfortable night makes me grin, and I take a long swallow of beer before any of my brothers see it. I can’t work out whether Amelia is for real or winding me up, but either way, before this week’s done, I’m going to have her.

  “Hey.” My older brother Zach gives me the nod as he comes to stand beside me.

  “Surprised you’re here. Grace let you out for good behavior?” I leer at him and he gives me the finger, but he doesn’t follow it up with a punch like he might’ve if I’d said something like that to him a few weeks ago. I’m still trying to figure out how a rich chick like Grace ended up trapping my brother, but he sure as hell seems happy about it.

  “She’s at some bachelorette weekend shit with her sister and girlfriends.”

  “You know what happens at those parties.” I can’t believe he allowed her to go, seeing how crazy he is about her.

  His smile freezes. “Grace isn’t like that.”

  “Okay.” If he trusts her, that’s all that counts. He knows from personal experience what some trust fund babes are like when they’re on the hunt for bad boys before one of their pack mates gets hitched.

  “Need to have a word with you.” He glances around the room, but the only others here are a couple of brothers who’re sprawled on the couch watching a porn movie, and they aren’t taking any notice of us.

  “What about?” I take another slug of beer. If it was anything important he would’ve texted me.

  “Damn sure I saw Rex Abbott hanging around outside Odin’s when I rode by earlier tonight.”

  My mellow mood shatters. Rex’s father was the president of the Silver Wolves, the one who ordered Crane to murder our dad while they were both inside. And while Crane was killed in retaliation, that doesn’t clear Rex’s father of what he did. There’s bad blood between us. And Rex is a crazy son of a bitch in his own right.

  “Was he on his own?” When the Wolves sorted their shit out ten years ago, they’d buried their president and banished his son on the understanding he was never to set foot in California again.

  “Far as I could see.” Zach gives me a brooding look. “If he’s back, we need to let the Wolves know.”

  I finish my beer. With the death of their former president, the Wolves became our allies, and although I don’t like to admit it, they’ve proved their worth over the last few years.

  It’s never eased the raw ache deep inside me, though. I was only fifteen when it happened, and even now it doesn’t feel like justice was served. I flex my fist. The Wolves’ coup was bloody, deadly, and swift. It prevented a war, but left me hanging, like I have unfinished business with a fucking ghost.

  “You gonna tell Jett?” Our president turns up most Saturday nights, although he isn’t here yet, and this is something that needs to be said to his face.

  “Yeah.” Zach scrubs his hand through his hair. “Might need to step up security at Odin’s until this is sorted.”

  Amelia’s face flashes into my mind. When her shift ended, I made sure she was safe inside her car before locking up. We always make sure our girls are okay. And although Tod’s there tonight, and he’ll see both Kat and Amelia to their cars, there’s an added threat now.

  I don’t know why Rex Abbott’s hanging around Odin’s after all these years, but I’m not taking any chances. “I need his photo.” I might remember him, but I’ve no idea what he looked like.

  “Yeah, I’ll sort it.”

  Jett strolls into the club.

  “Catch you later,” Zach says before making his way to our president.

  It’s not even midnight, but I have no interest in the strippers that’ve just started a sexy routine by the bar, which is weird, as I usually enjoy the live shows. I need to get back to Odin’s. Even though I had no intention of seeing Amelia until tomorrow, I can’t get the idea that she’s in danger from Rex Abbott out of my head.

  Fucking crazy. Why don’t I just admit it? I want to see her tonight.

  …

  I don’t bother going through my apartment and instead push my way through the crowd to the bar, searching out Amelia. There’s no sign of her, so I scan the room.

  Kat leans across the bar and prods my arm. “She’s quit, Gage.”

  I swing around. “What?”

  “She called a couple of hours before her shift started. I had to get Sav in to help out.”

  Kat’s best friend, who also happens to be Ty’s little sister, blows me a mocking kiss from the other end of the bar. I ignore her and glare at Kat.

  “What the fuck did you say to her last night?”

  My sister laughs in my face. “God, you’re funny. It’s not me she doesn’t want to see.”

  I stare at her, not understanding what she’s going on about. Why wouldn’t Amelia want to see me? I gave her a fucking awesome orgasm with the promise of plenty more.

  I’m a sex-free zone.

  Sure, she said she wasn’t going to sleep with me but…

  Fuck. She really was serious, when I thought she was just messing around, seeing how far she could push me until the inevitable hookup.

  “Did she tell you that?” The words all but stick in my throat, and I don’t even know why I give a shit. If she isn’t interested, it doesn’t matter. There’re dozens of girls who’ll put out based on nothing more than my colors.

  For the first time, that knowledge doesn’t give me a sense of satisfaction.

  “Yeah, right.” Kat scoffs. “Don’t be such an asshole.”

  “What the hell did she say?”

  Kat glances around as though she doesn’t want to be overheard. I lean in close, even though a part of me can’t believe I’m so hung up on what Amelia Davis told my sister.

  “Looks to me like Zach isn’t the only one who’s pussy-whipped.”

  I rear back, and Kat’s snorting with laughter as she flounces off. Fucking pussy-whipped my ass. I haven’t even screwed Amelia.

  Is that why I can’t stop thinking about her
?

  It’s a new one on me, and I don’t like it. She’s just a chick. Nothing special. It’s almost an hour later before I remember the real reason why I left the club and came here.

  To make sure Rex Abbott doesn’t get his hands on my sister.

  Or Amelia.

  Chapter Six

  Amelia

  The Sunday lunchtime rush at the diner has eased, and I’m taking a ten-minute break at one of the small tables by the window when my cell rings. It’s Rex. I fork my fingers through my hair, but it doesn’t help the nervous pitch in my stomach.

  I can’t avoid his calls forever. The sooner I get this over with the better. “Hey.”

  “You didn’t answer my text.” His voice is gravelly but not in a sexy way. In fact, when he turned up last week I hardly recognized him from when I was a teen and had a secret crush on him. Talk about ageing badly. He looks nearer fifty than thirty.

  “I’ve been busy.”

  He has a coughing fit, and I fidget with my charm bracelet until he manages to catch his breath. “Thought as much. You had no trouble getting close to Reynolds?”

  The scene in the kitchen floods my mind, just like it had several times during the night. “No. Well, I mean…”

  He laughs, and it sends a shudder along my spine as though he’s the evil villain, which is crazy, since that role is filled by Axle Reynolds.

  Who also happens to be dead…

  I grip my cell tighter, not sure I want to know where my thoughts are taking me.

  “That’s my girl.” He sounds satisfied, and I don’t like his tone. “You reel him in good and tight, Amy. I’ll do the rest.”

  “Look, about that. I’m not sure—”

  “You fucked him yet?” The question is so casual that I forget my irritation at being interrupted for the second time.

  “Of course I haven’t.” I hiss the words—what I want to do is scream them, but I can’t risk making a scene at work. “What the hell do you take me for?”

  “And he’s still interested?” Rex sounds intrigued, as though that possibility had never occurred to him. Jesus, I am dumb sometimes. I had no idea that’s what he had in mind when he said I needed to get close to Gage.