Bo (17 page)

During a quiet moment, Boomer—big as a tank and just as deadly, I’d learned—took Kinkaid’s shoulders in his hands. “Damn proud of you, kid. Proved yourself to be a man. Earned your woman, Sadie. Started your own business.” Boomer’s ice-cap blue eyes shined for a second. “I bet your grandfather Dean would be real proud of you too.”

“Here, here!” Brodie lifted his beer.

We all followed suit.

Kinkaid swiped at his eyes, nodded, and downed a shot.

More claps, stomping boots, loud whistles made the rounds of the room.

Sadie, JB, and Ashe triple-teamed V and towed her away from me while the general clubhouse commotion continued.

“Time you met the rest of the Redemption women, Ronnie.” JB waved her fingers at me over her shoulder as she and the other ladies converged on my girlfriend.

I stood, frowning after them.

“Might as well get comfortable. Those women. In one place? They’re going to have a lot to talk about.” Hunter’s gold eyes glowed with evil delight.

I decided to take his advice, with a little twist to see if I could get V’s attention. I took off my suit jacket—
slowly
. Hell yeah, I’d watched Kinkaid go through a few practice runs, and I was a fast learner.

V’s eyes flicked quickly over to me.

Unbuttoning my cuffs, I rolled the crisp shirtsleeves up my forearms, flexing the muscles in my arms. I loosened my tie and let it dangle. V’s gaze returned for a greedy lingering look. My five o’clock shadow neatly trimmed, I’d had a haircut, wore a little cologne, the works.

V ignored the women who looked to be yammering a mile a minute at her.

The flag tat on my neck above the collar of my shirt showed. That shit always worked her up, and I couldn’t wait to work her over later.

She stared, licking her lips.

I winked.

She fanned herself, turning back to the conversation when JB snapped two fingers in front of her face.

“Way to work it, Maverick.” Hunter laughed. “Jesus. Never figured you for a Casanova.”

“Just takes the right woman, right?”

“And I can’t believe you got bit too.”

“You were pushing for it though.” I swigged my beer.

“Hey, happiness comes with a ball and chain. Don’t even try to deny it.” Hunter lifted two fingers, and Coletrane spun a shot of whiskey and a shot of vodka across the bar toward us.

“Wouldn’t call V a ball and chain.” I peered at her across the room, smiling when she laughed at something Sadie said. “She set me free from the bad past, man.”

Hunter clinked his glass to mine. “I hear that.”

I sipped the vodka slowly instead of shooting it back. I didn’t need forgetfulness in the bottom of a bottle anymore. Looking around the wild bunch inside Retribution, I almost got fucking teary-eyed. Talk about a home away from home. Good men. Good women. Good people.

A bunch of jackasses, too, usually.

V and a few of the gals danced on the small stage a while later. I sat back and watched, content in my happy, horny,
she’s all mine
place. Damn, that woman knew how to move her hips.

Sadie buzzed through the commotion, intent on reaching the bar where Cole and Kinkaid played
Cocktail
, betting against each other over who could make the most outrageous drink while juggling bottles of alcohol without that shit splintering to the floor in a million pieces.

“Cole! Here’s the girl I wanted you to meet.” Sadie rounded the bar in front of Hunter and me.

Kinkaid whispered to Coletrane, “Welcome to your worst nightmare.”

The girl
Sadie towed toward Cole was nothing short of a high-class blonde bombshell.

Now, Cole was one cool dude. Always there to lend a hand or dispense some sound advice, give a shoulder to cry on to the ladies or the men, the shoulder that was still bandaged from the GSW inflicted during the Iron Nails takedown, but as soon as he saw the chick strutting his way, I swore to fuck his face turned red.

I glanced at Hunter who leaned against the bar beside me. He’d stopped nuzzling JB’s neck long enough to watch the proceedings with a smirk and his eyebrows shooting sky high.

Hunter was like a psychic barometer where
shit going down
was concerned, so I had a pretty good idea things were about to get interesting.

“Coletrane, this is Sinclair Chatham.” Sadie dragged Cole forcefully from behind the bar. “Sinclair, meet Coletrane.”

Cole gulped. About ten other men echoed that sound. Sadie usually wore paint streaks and oil stains—and that was an excellent look—but this
Sinclair
dripped with money from the diamond studs in her ears to the perfectly polished fingernails on the hand she held in Cole’s direction.

The platinum blonde pin-up looked too King Street for this joint, but she didn’t flinch. No. She
purred.
“Coletrane. A pleasure.”

Wrong side of the tracks meet Charleston S.N.O.B., otherwise known as Slightly North of Broad Street and money-money-money.

“Shit’s about to go down.” Hunter knocked back the rest of his drink.

“Still need that relationship counselor.” Boomer halted beside me. “By the way, that delivery is here for you, Bo.”

I didn’t get to witness the rest of the showdown between Cole and Sinclair because I followed Boomer outside to the parking lot. Tucker sat on the bike while Brodie did some Vanna White moves to show off the custom detailed Harley.

I walked around the V-Rod, the same make of motorcycle Slade rode, inspecting it from every angle, cranking it to life, and admiring the electric blue paintwork.

At a signal from me, Tail—V’s sparring partner—walked my lady outside.

“What’s going on, Bo?” Her voice pitched high.

My knees started knocking as I wondered if this had been a mistake. I pointed to the beautifully built bike.

“What is that?” she asked.

“
Uhh.
I bought you a motorcycle.”

“You WHAT?”

“Well, what good is danger pay if you can’t live dangerously?” My eyebrows locking down in a frown, I nervously chewed my lip.

“Bo . . .”

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” Rubbing a hand down my face, I quickly backtracked. “I mean, biking was a big thing for you, and I think you loved it. I know you love being on my Triumph. And I know that part of your life messed you up so I just thought maybe I could give you a little piece of the old you back.” I kicked at a tire. “Stupid, right?”

“Bo?” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

My eyes flashed as my lips thinned together.

“This is the sexiest, most romantic thing any man’s ever done for me.” Veronica grabbed me to her with a smoldering kiss that blitzed my brain.

She nipped my lips, slid her tongue under mine, and reached low to graze her fingers over my cock.

“You know what this means, don’t you?”

“
Uh unh.
” I didn’t know shit except my balls were aching from that one single searing kiss alone.

“We’ll have to christen it.”

A slow clap started up from Tuck, spreading to Boomer, Brodie, Tail, and all the Retribution men and Redemption women who’d sniffed out the latest goings on and filled the parking lot.

“Not here.” My hands closed around her ribs, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts.

Her head quirked. She teased me with the smile of a temptress. Hips swaying, she rolled up to the bike. She lifted a leg over the seat, her dress hiked up almost to her hips.

I bit my fucking lip until it bled.

V caressed the leather. She curled her fists around the handlebars.

My cock went wild inside my pants.

I’d just bargained for more trouble. And I loved it.

“What about at that beach you took me to in Pawleys the first time?” V asked.

Oh yeah.

Rising off the bike, she took a slow sultry walk toward me. “You know what else?”

“
Uhhh.
” I must’ve been all around dumb and probably drooling . . .

“You’ll have to
ride me
—
oops
—I mean ride my bike for me until I get my license.”

Rough swallow, low voice, hands on her ass. “I can ride you six ways to heaven, babe.”

“
Aaand
now I need to fuck someone.” Tail spun off toward the clubhouse.

“Ditto that.
Shit.
” Boomer swiped a hand across the grin on his mouth.

The parking lot emptied, leaving just the two of us.

“Your ride or mine?” V asked.

I slipped on top of her kickass bike, buckling my helmet in place. Handing another brain bucket to her, I patted the seat behind me. “Get on.”

I hit all the fucking slipstreams through the late night traffic, getting us home in a matter of fifteen too horny minutes.

Bike parked. Helmets off. The street and the motorcycle were tempting to take her up on the christening offer, but this was a tourist area. Another reason to get our house built soon.

Door open. Keys dropped. Door kicked shut.

Her ass. In my hands. Her back. Against the wall. I roamed all over her until she pushed me away.

“Wait. Wait!”

My fists balled at my sides, and my breath heaved in and out. “What?”

“I just need to . . . I bought something for tonight too.”

My forehead thunked against the wall. I groaned. “You better be quick about it.”

She leaped upstairs, her dress held in both hands.

I followed more slowly, willing myself to stand the fuck down. Too bad my cock didn’t get the memo. The front of my suit pants tented at an obscene angle.

In the bedroom, V disappeared into the adjoining bathroom. I stared at the door she closed in my face, unbuttoning my shirt, shucking off my shoes and socks. I opened the doors to the balcony, stepping outside where the hot, muggy air clung to me.

Minutes later I sensed her behind me, but I didn’t turn, holding onto the balcony railing with a white-knuckled grip.

Her arms ran around me. She kissed my neck. With light motions, she dragged the shirt off my arms until it flipped away. She plucked the button on my pants and lowered the zipper over my stiff erection. Slowly. Each bite of the zipper loud enough to make the nerves ping in my veins.

I shut my eyes, parted my lips, willed her warm hands to reach lower, but she stopped only a quarter of the way down.

Gritting my teeth, I asked, “What did you buy, V?”

“Turn around and see.”

I did exactly that, then . . .

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck me . . . hard.

Framed by the open doors to the bedroom, she wore a long gossamer gown in rich cream made of fine webbing. Her unrestrained tits nearly toppled from the small triangles barely covering her, and speaking of triangles, her sweet little red bush was clearly visible through the loosely woven material.

My hand lifted and I hefted one heavy globe in my palm. My head dropped back, my eyelids shuttered closed, and I groaned.

“I’m going to have to attack you. Rip that off you. Fuck.” I opened my eyes and slid the length of my tongue up her neck, sucking on her hot flesh.

She took a step away from me. Then another. Another. Drawing me into the room. I knocked the balcony doors shut behind me as I followed.

Stopping in front of the bed, she ran her hands through her hair and over her incredibly luscious figure.

“You don’t have to rip it off.” She stretched the webbing around her hot-colored nipples, and they popped through. “See?” She pinched both tight peaks.

“Jesus Christ.” A flash of heat burned down my spine and gripped me by my balls. I knocked her hands away. “These are mine.”

Roughly hauling her to me, I leaned forward enough to grab the buds between my lips and my fingertips. I growled, moving my mouth and hands all over her body. Fast licks turned to hard suction and I pulled one nipple up and away from her body until I tugged it between my teeth.

Veronica’s head flew back. She grabbed my hair, her fingernails scratching with just the right amount of pressure.

Backing her to the tall poster on the corner of the bed, I pressed her against the slim wooden column and ordered, “Stay put.”

Her breath stuttered in and out of deliciously swollen lips.

Cupping her ass, grinding into her, I licked her mouth and drove inside with my tongue . . . I wanted those juicy lips to sing my name.

When I lowered to my knees and buried my face right at her fiery bush, tonguing her through the webbed material, she screamed, “BO!”

Using my fingers and my teeth, I made little snips in the gown, opening the weave wider. I skimmed two hard fingers along her drenched slit and up and around her clit. The wetness was clear and silky. Ripping a larger tear around her cunt, I pushed my face, my mouth, my lips, my tongue into her incredible honeyed heat.