Tease: A Kings of Korruption MC Novel Page 4

  Reaching down, I readjust my dick and clear my throat. “Done.” My voice is husky with need, and I know she can hear it. Looking back at her, I see that though she may have heard it, in her drunken haze she didn’t catch it. She just sits there smiling, eyes half-closed, looking like she is about to pass the fuck out.

  “Babe? You good?”

  She smiles a small wine-induced smile. “Hmmm. Sleepy.”

  There’s no way in hell she’s making it back to the couch tonight. Shaking my head, I scoop her up once more and carry her out into the hallway. Looking around, I see only one other open door. Deciding that must be the bedroom, I turn and move in that direction.

  Her head rests on my shoulder, her hand on my chest, and her strawberry smell fills my nostrils, doing very little to tame my raging hard on. The fact that the smell of fruit turns me on makes me question my own fucking sanity, but I know that it’s the smell of her that is causing the blood to rush straight to my dick. This woman is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.

  I’m just entering the bedroom when she lifts up slightly and buries her nose in my neck. Her hand on my chest presses harder and starts to stroke across the muscles there. “Mmm. You smell good. And your chest feels like iron. Soft, sexy, iron.”

  Fuck. I need to get the hell out of here. Hurrying over to the bed, I gently place her on top, her head on the pillow. “Get some sleep. You’re gonna feel like shit in the mornin’.”

  Her sleepy smile grows, even with her eyes closed. “Aww, Travis. See. You are nice.”

  Warmth washes over me. What is it with this woman? I wish she were right. I wish I were nice, but I’m not — I’m a fucking monster.

  “Night, Laynie.” My voice is harsh and angry sounding, but my heart is pounding rapidly in my chest. This sweet woman is fucking with my head.

  Rolling to her side, she calls out, “Travis?”

  I pause in my retreat through the door. “Yeah.”

  “Thank you for fixing my foot.” Her words are slow and calculated, and I know she’s struggling to stay awake. “You’re a … just … thanks.”

  I stand in front of her watching her sweet face and wonder what the fuck to do now. Her eyes fall closed, and her smile slowly fades. She’s asleep. Part of me knows that I need to leave. I need to get away from her and never fucking come back. I don’t know why I came in the first place. I don’t want any type of relationship – with her or with anyone. I could never trust her, and the thought of Laynie betraying me like everyone else has makes my fucking gut twist.

  But I do know why I came. She was hurt – I couldn’t not come. Just the thought of her hurting and alone was enough to make me hop on my bike and fly to her rescue, like a fucking pussy-whipped bitch. Watching her now, I worry.

  What if she gets up in the night and hurts herself again? She’s wasted. I can’t leave her. Shoulders slumped in defeat, I walk from her bedroom to the living room. Dexter stands by the doorway, leash in his mouth, obviously needing to go outside. The dog’s as crazy as his master.

  Running my hand down my face, I sigh heavily before taking the leash from the dog. “All right, buddy. Let’s go.”

  Clipping the leash onto his collar, I take the fucking dog out.

  The overwhelming need to pee slowly pulls me from my sleep. Groggily, I bury my face deeper into the pillow and groan. I feel like shit. My head throbs, my body aches, and my mouth tastes terrible. Feeling wetness on my cheek, I lift my head and touch the pillow. Gross. Drool.

  Sliding my hand along my chin to wipe the excess from my skin, I yawn and stretch, trying to wake myself up. My brain is fuzzy as I try to remember what the hell I did last night. Reaching out, I pat the air intending to pat Dex. He likely hates me right now. I don’t remember taking him out to pee last night at all.

  My hand searches the blankets beside me but comes up with nothing but air. Dex isn’t there. Weird. “Dex.” My call is barely more than a whisper thanks to my dry throat. Hearing a noise from the kitchen, I bolt upright in bed.

  “Dex!” My voice is louder this time, and my heart pounds in my chest as I wait to hear something from the other room – anything. Suddenly, I hear the tinkling of Dex’s dog tags coming closer, followed by the heavy thump of footsteps. Fear causes my blood to run cold.

  “Hello?” The door squeaks quietly as it’s pushed open, and suddenly Dex is on the bed, his wet nose pushing into my hand. I reach up and give him a stroke, straining my ears for the sounds of footsteps. Slowly, I lean toward my nightstand, feeling for the large paper weight I keep there. It’s not much of a weapon, but it could cause a serious headache if it were to crash its way into the skull of an unwelcome houseguest. “Who’s there?”

  “Just me.”

  Relief floods me when I realize that it’s Travis, but is quickly replaced with confusion then embarrassment as the events of the night before come flooding back to me. Oh God. My drunk dialing him had not been my wisest move. And topping it off with slicing my foot open was classic. Way to show him what a great catch you are, dumbass.

  Groaning, I bury my face in my hands. “Oh God. I’m such an idiot.”

  His footsteps approach the bed. “I made you breakfast. Your foot’s gonna be sore for a few days, so you need to stay off it.”

  I sink my head lower into my hands, and my words are muffled. “Thank you. I’m so freaking embarrassed.”

  An amused snort fills my ears, coming from closer than he was before. “Babe, it’s cool.”

  It dawns on me then that it’s morning, and he’s still here. “You stayed the night?”

  He inhales heavily. “Yeah, well, I wanted to make sure you didn’t get up in the night and fall again.”

  Anger creeps its way into my thoughts making my cheeks flush with heat. I have to work to control my voice. “Cause I’m blind?”

  Annoyance clear in his voice, he replies, “No, because you were flat on your ass drunk with glass sticking out of your fuckin’ foot.” As quickly as it came, the anger washes away with relief at his honest answer. “I slept on the couch, took the dog out, made you breakfast – you need to eat. It’ll get rid of that hangover.”

  My cheeks flame brighter. He slept on my couch? I may not be able to see him, but I’ve felt him … kind of. And his voice comes from high above me when we’re standing. I know he’s tall, so I don’t know how he fit on my short, flowery couch.

  “Well … thank you for staying. And for the breakfast and dealing with Dex.” An awkward vibe fills the room, and I search my mind frantically for something to say, but he beats me to it.

  “Yeah.” The awkward silence remains until he breaks it with his gruff voice. “Look, I gotta go. Get some food into you, and stay off your foot for a while.” His footsteps moving toward the door and my heart pounds. I need to say something – anything.

  “Travis?”

  His steps pause, but he says nothing.

  “I’m making stuffed manicotti for supper tonight. Did you want to join me?” Silence fills the air, its weight choking me. “I always make too much and can never eat it all myself.”

  “Not a good idea,” he grunts.

  His attitude is starting to piss me off. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right.” I clench my jaw and try my best to glare in his direction. “I mean, who knows which one of your personalities is going to show up.”

  Silence.

  I sigh heavily and force the emotion from my voice, doing my best to sound dismissive. “Thanks again for helping me out last night, Travis. I didn’t need it, but thanks anyways. Now, if you don’t mind, I need to use the little girl’s room, so you’ll have to show yourself out.”

  More silence. I’m beginning to wonder if he’d managed to leave without me noticing when he speaks again. “What’s stuffed manicotti?”

  I can’t help the smirk. He always sounds so angry, but I’m beginning to wonder if that’s just his normal tone. “It’s noodle tubes stuffed with different cheeses and smothered in a sausage and tomato sauce.”
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br />   More silence, broken only by the sound of his feet shuffling. “What time?”

  Excitement fills me – butterflies swarming in my belly – but I keep the cool tone in my words. “Seven thirty?”

  He grunts, “I’ll be here.”

  Still sitting on my bed, my hand on Dex’s back, I listen to Travis walk through my apartment and out the front door. The feeling of triumph freezes me in place, my face split in a wide and gleeful grin. Apparently food really is the way to a man’s heart.

  I jump from my bed about to do a victory dance. Just as my foot hits the floor, pain sears through my wounded heel. “Ow! Shit!”

  Abandoning my victory dance, my heart soars with excitement as I limp my way to the bathroom.

  CLOSING THE DOOR TO Laynie’s apartment, I’m just about to move to the main door of the building when the door across the hall opens. A young guy, about twenty-five, steps out and freezes when he sees me. He glances from me to Laynie’s door several times and swallows hard.

  “You the guy that let me in last night?”

  His eyes locked on mine, he nods. The guy’s terrified.

  “You do that often?”

  Eyes still wide, he shakes his head no.

  I take a few steps toward him, causing him to step back and press himself against his apartment door. “I ever hear of you letting another stranger into this fuckin’ building and tellin’ ‘em where to find Laynie, I’ll rip your fuckin’ heart out. Got me?”

  He stays pressed against the wall and says nothing as he nods. Holding his stare for a moment, I glare at him, showing him just how fucking serious I am before turning and stalking out of the building and down the street to my ride.

  My phone chimes with a text just as I’m about to swing my leg over. Yanking it from the back pocket of my jeans, I see that it’s Gunner.

  Gunner: 911. Church in 30.

  A small rush of pride fills me as I realize that he’s added me to the group list of patched members. After years of wandering this fucked up world on my own, I finally belong somewhere. Glancing back at Laynie’s building, I grit my teeth. Why did I agree to come back for dinner? I may belong to the club, but I don’t belong in that girly fucking apartment with that woman. I need to cancel. I should never have agreed in the first fucking place.

  The drive to the clubhouse is short, and I pull in beside Jase just as he’s getting off his ride. He stops, waiting for me to get off my own. “Where the fuck did you take off to last night, Romeo? You got some pussy on the side you ain’t sharin’ with the rest of us?”

  I shoulder my way past him, giving him a warning glare as I do. He laughs out loud and follows along behind me. “Oh, secret pussy. I hear ya, bro. Secret pussy is my favorite kind of pussy.”

  I spin around, stopping him in his tracks. “It’s none of your fuckin’ business where I went. And I don’t want to hear about your fuckin’ pussy.”

  As I turn and start strolling toward the clubhouse once again, Jase laughs. “All right, brother. I hear ya. No more pussy. You did miss a hell of a party after you left last night, though. Lucy was looking for you too. Wanted to give you a welcome to the club present. She gives it to all the new brothers.”

  I curl my nose at the thought of that nasty bitch touching me. Sure, I’d fucked her a couple of times, but I’d never let her touch me, and I’d never touched her more than I had to. Jase snickers at my expression, and we enter the clubhouse. The common room is cleaned up, floors and tables gleaming. You’d never know there was a party there the night before. The old ladies of the club have been busy this morning.

  The meeting room is full, a brother sitting at every available seat at the long oval table. The only seats left are Jase’s, and what looks to be my newly appointed seat, directly between him and Reaper. We enter the room and take our seats quietly, waiting for the Prez to tell us what the fuck is so important.

  Gunner clears his throat and sits forward in his chair. “I called you all here today because we have a situation. Ryk, this one affects you the most.” Ryker’s frame goes still as he waits for Gunner to continue. “That sick fuck, Krueger, was killed last night in prison.”

  Shock fills the room. It’s not like we care – Krueger had it coming. He’d gone rogue from the Devil’s Rejects MC and kidnapped Ryker’s woman. He almost fucking killed her. He’s lucky he lived this long. I don’t know how Ryker didn’t kill him in the first place; I’d have turned that fucker inside out.

  Gunner looks around the table, letting it sink in. “I, for one, am glad the fucker’s dead. The problem, though, is that the Devils think we had something to do with it. Think we went back on our agreement to let them question him about some shit they have goin’ on in their own club.”

  The room fills with voices all speaking at the same time. I stay silent watching Ryker. He says nothing, but his face is filled with fury. I know he had nothing to do with it. He wanted to kill that son-of-a-bitch himself, and had been working out a way to do it.

  Gunner bangs his gavel on the table. “Quiet!” Everyone stops talking, restless energy pulsating throughout the room. “The Devils are pissed. They think we killed him before they got a chance to get what they needed from him. I told them we had nothin’ to do with it, but they are convinced it was Ryker.”

  Ryker clenches his fists, his jaw hardening. I know he wishes that it was. Not getting to kill that son-of-a-bitch himself is gonna haunt the poor bastard for the rest of his life.

  “The Devil’s Prez told me that killing Krueger was an act of war.” The room swells with outraged shouts and a jumble of angry protests. “I couldn’t convince the stupid bastard that it wasn’t us, or our boy here, so I wanted you all to be aware. The Devils will retaliate – it isn’t gonna be fuckin’ pretty. Keep your eyes peeled and stay alert. Nobody moves anywhere without carryin’ your piece and keep it loaded at all times.” Gunner leans forward and spears each of us with his fierce, green eyes. “We are officially at war, boys. Stay safe.”

  He bangs his gavel once more, officially ending the meeting. One by one, the brothers stand, anger fueling every conversation. I stand slowly, making my way to Ryker. He looks up from his seat, eyes dark and furious. Holding my fist out to him, I say, “Whatever you need, brother.”

  Gritting his teeth, he just nods, bumping his fist into mine.

  I get it. I know what it’s like to have rage buried so deep inside you that you can’t speak. To be so enraged that you fear opening your mouth will lead to insanity. Being that angry is how I’ve lived my life for the last twenty years. Giving him a chin lift, I turn and head out the door.

  Just as I swing my leg over my bike, Mouse comes running up behind me. “Tease! I need to talk to you.”

  I cut my eyes to his, waiting for him to say more.

  “I met this girl –“ I don’t even wait for him to finish. Mouse and his fucking women. The guy is only nineteen and seems to think every girl he meets is going to be “the one”. Then they turn out to be complete trash, and it just about breaks him every time. For the first time ever, I’ve got my own fucking women troubles – I don’t need to hear about his.

  “No! Wait!” I turn back and stare at him again. “This one’s different. I’ve been seeing her for a while now. She told me this morning…” He runs his fingers through his hair, body twitching with excitement. “She’s fuckin’ pregnant, dude. I’m gonna be a fuckin’ daddy!”

  I don’t know what to say. If some bitch told me I was going to be a dad, I’d lose my fucking shit. “Fuck.”

  “No, man. It’s cool! I’m gonna be a fuckin’ daddy!” He grins at me, his whole face splitting wide with happiness.

  I can’t relate. Being a father sounds like my idea of a fucking nightmare. Mouse will be a good dad, though. He may be just a kid, but he’s a good person – always happy, and he would give you the shirt off his back if you asked for it. If he’s happy about it, well, good for him. I don’t know why the fuck he came to me about it, though. Sure, we’ve spen
t a lot of time together as prospects, but if he hasn’t learned by now that I don’t participate in his whacked out conversations, he never will.

  I give him the best response I can come up with. “Good for you, Mouse.” He beams at me and opens his mouth to say more, but I start the motor up on my bike, revving it loudly before I peel out of the parking lot. Mouse can figure out his own shit. I have things to do today, and the first on the list is calling Laynie to cancel this fucking dinner.

  I hadn’t even finished my breakfast yet when the phone calls start. Knowing it’s my mother, I finish eating and put my plate in the dishwasher, letting it ring. In the time it takes me to have a shower and fix my hair, she’s called three more times. With each ring of the phone, my anger builds. The fifth time she calls, I answer it.

  “Hello, Mom.” I know she can hear my annoyance — I don’t even try to hide it.

  “Well, it’s about time! I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all morning.”

  “I know. I was busy.”

  “Too busy to answer the phone when your mother calls?”

  Gritting my teeth, I make an effort to remind myself that matricide is illegal and that this is my mother, and I love her. “What can I do for you, Mom?”

  She lets out an exaggerated sigh, making my annoyance turn to outright aggravation. “Daniel is coming home tonight for the weekend. Are you still coming with him?”

  Crap! I’d forgotten all about that. “Uh … actually, no. I –“

  “No? What do you mean no? You and Daniel come home the second weekend of every month! It’s a tradition.”

  I want to scream at her. Tell her to leave me the hell alone and to back the fuck off – but I don’t. “I know. It’s just something has come up. I uh …. I have a date.”

  Silence. “A date?” Why does she sound like I just told her I wanted to run off to the Arctic to become a fucking penguin?

  “Yes, a date! I have those from time to time!” I can’t believe her. It’s like she thinks nobody would ever want a date with me just because I’m blind.