Trigger, page 5
Hangman shrugs. “I know. She the owner?”
“Yeah,” Zero nods.
“It makes no difference if she’s a broad. Get to the point.”
“Uhm. The woman,” Crank starts.
“Dr. Whittaker,” Zero clarifies.
Crank turns to Zero. “What was her first name again?”
“Doesn’t fuckin’ matter!” Hangman’s getting impatient.
“Right,” Zero replies with a nod. “She thinks the insurance should be based on net income.”
I snigger, no longer bored. “Does she now?”
“She thinks she fuckin’ makes the rules?” Hangman snarls looking between the prospects and me.
Crank quickly comes to her defence. “No. She was very nice. She was just makin’ a point.”
Zero adds, “She showed us her books.”
“Account books,” Crank interrupts.
“Yeah. Anyway, she’s in the red.”
“So the fuck what?” I say, mirroring Hangman’s growing impatience.
Crank shifts uncomfortably. “Well she said we should pay her until she’s in the black.”
My head swims at the conversation. “What the fuck are you talkin’ about?”
Zero seems to have a death wish. “It makes sense though, doesn’t it? Like we don’t want her business to go under, so we shouldn’t make her spend money she don’t have.”
“Are you fuckin’ kidding me!” Hangman sputters. He looks at me. “Where the fuck are Reaper and Eight?”
I shrug. “I ain’t their babysitter.”
Maybe those weren’t the right words to use because Hangman goes ballistic. “I got two fuckin’ useless prospects and a jackass who thinks he’s funny.”
I try a frown on for size, but I know it’s a smirking frown. “I don’t think I’m funny—” I start.
“Good thing you don’t think it because you’re gonna fuckin’ go read the riot act to that fuckin’ vet.”
This time I give a real frown. Fuck. Now I’m gonna have to strong arm some old biddy into payin’ her proper respect to the Jury. There goes my day. “I ain’t got time, Hangman.”
He sees through my lie. “Take these two turd piles, get your ass down to the vet place and show them how it’s done.”
I try to stare him down, open my mouth to argue, but he looks like he’s about to throw one of us through the wall and there’s a 33.33 percent chance it could be me.
I sigh as I head out to the parking lot, Zero and Crank on my heels. “You fuck-ups,” I growl, but my heart’s not in it.
“Wait’ll you see her,” Crank says. “You’ll get it then.”
“Let’s go,” I snap as I mount my Harley and roar out of the compound.
When we get to the clinic, I stomp to the door and slam it open. The bell tinkles overhead but no one comes out so I bang on the reception counter. “Where the fuck is everyone!” I yell in my best impression of Hangman on a good day.
“Coming,” a sweet voice sweeps over me from down the hall. Shivers invade my body and it’s like I’m in slow motion as I turn towards the hallway.
Then she’s standing there, stopped dead in the hall, her head tilted, a bemused smile on her lips. She’s as fuckin’ gorgeous as the last time I saw her. Dressed almost the same except she’s wearing a white lab coat and has straw in her hair.
“Trigger!” she exclaims in delight as she sashays up to me, takes my face in her hands and kisses me soundly on the lips.
Fuck me.
When she tries to draw back, I don’t let her. I wrap my hands around her waist, thread my fingers through her hair and kiss her like a drowning man. My dick is a fence post as I press it into her pelvis and stick my tongue down her throat.
She lets me ravage her for a half-minute, then untangles herself from me, touching her hair like she’s tryin’ to fix it, but she’s rattled at my response to her greeting. “You’re very bad,” she says breathlessly.
“Evanee,” I smirk at her. “You gonna fuckin’ kiss me, what do’ya think I’m gonna do?” I lean into her, inhaling, and say under my breath. “I’ve been thinkin’ of doing that since I met you at the mall. Thank you for lettin’ me.”
She takes a step backward, her eyes dancing, then they startle as she looks past me and sees Crank and Zero. “You’re back. So soon.” She recovers quickly. “This time I think we really should have a drink.”
I realize the rock and hard place I suddenly find myself in. “Evanee,” I start, but she’s disappeared down the hall. Less than a minute later, she emerges with a half-bottle of spiced whiskey and four glasses – uh not really glasses, but what appear to be urine sample holders. “I have the need to celebrate our reunion,” she murmurs as she concentrates on pouring a shot into each of the glasses. She passes them around, raises hers into the air then knocks it back like a bad-ass biker. I’m in awe, probably in love.
I grin as I clink her empty glass and follow suit.
There’s a pregnant pause as I look around at the bare walls, the faded linoleum on the floor, then back to her. I touch her hair and pull out a piece of straw. “Who you been rollin’ around in the hay with?” I’m sayin’ it with a smirk but there’s a dangerous undertone that she picks up on.
“My babies,” she replies. “Out back. We need our exercise.”
“Dogs are out back then?” Zero asks.
She nods at him, before returning her attention to me “I’m so glad to see you again.” She runs a finger down my chest to the zipper on my jeans as she peers up at me through her thick black eyelashes.
“Me too,” I reply as I shift uncomfortably. “This ain’t a social call, Evanee.”
“Of course.” She tucks a piece of my hair behind my ear. “I didn’t think it was since Zero and Crank came with you”. She gives them a beaming smile that makes me wanna punch them.
“Maybe we could talk alone?” I venture, thinking I might make more headway if the prospects are gone.
“We can hang with the dogs in the backyard,” Zero says hopefully, but Evanee’s eyes get guarded.
“Perhaps another time, Zero. They get fussy when they’re hungry. Cujo, as you know, is a monster.”
Crank and Zero look at each other in confusion.
I jerk my head towards the deli across the street. “Go buy yourselves a sandwich. I’ll handle this myself.”
Chapter Seven
Evanee
After Zero and Crank leave, Trigger looks long and hard at me. “I forgot to tell you that you’re the most beautiful women in the world.”
It’s not original, but it is coming from my future husband so I’m more flattered than I’d typically be. “And I forgot to tell you that you’re the sexiest man alive.”
“Imagine the babies we’ll make.”
I almost melt into a pool of simpering estrogen. “Yes,” I agree, a smile hovering on my lips. “Imagine how we’ll make those babies.”
He grins and presses me up against the counter, pushing his very hard, very big erection into my belly. “I haven’t been the same since the food court. My dick ain’t interested in anyone but you and monkhood doesn’t suit me.”
Shit he’s good. “I’ve never had a virgin before.” I trace the valleys of his biceps as I look up at him through my eyelashes.
He grins and winks. “You’ll have to show me the ropes, gorgeous.”
I decide he’s right, but not the way he means. I slide away from him despite my body’s objection and sit in the old office chair behind the counter. The springs squeak in protest. “As you said, this isn’t a social call.” I blink at him. “And I’m not the kind of girl who exchanges sex for money.”
His eyes narrow dangerously. “You better fucking not be.”
“I just said I’m not.” I add a measure of ice to my voice to dampen the fire his possessive words evoke. “But like I told your prospects, I can’t pay your extortion rates, and I won’t.” I can toy with the prospects, but I know that won’t wash with the tall man leaning over the counter, all tats, piercings, and muscle. I shiver as I think of what’s under his clothes.
“The Jury don’t take no for an answer.”
“Even if I’m your wife?” I flutter my eyelashes coquettishly.
His eyes get wide. “I think we’re at the dating stage, not the wedding stage.”
I like that he isn’t running for the hills. “The unfortunate part of all this is that we can’t even be at the dating stage because it would be like I’m prostituting myself.” I too can be an extortionist when I want to be and this time, yes, I’m using the word in the proper context.
He growls and bangs the flat of his palm on the counter hard enough to make me jump. “One has nothing to do with the other.”
“You really are unfamiliar with the concept of boyfriend/girlfriend.”
Trigger’s beautiful brown eyes lose their spark. “It’s bad enough you sent Zero and Crank back to the prez with their tails between their legs. You ain’t gonna do it to me.”
My stomach lurches at the thought of Trigger turning his back on me and walking out the door. “Maybe I should meet this president of yours.” I pause, furrow my forehead though I know it’s bad for my face, but I need the effect. “It’s a conflict of interest for you. If you insist I pay, we can’t pursue a relationship.” I hesitate again, then with a measure of insecurity in my voice that’s far too real, say, “Unless, I’m misinterpreting your interest.” Shit, I’m getting emotional. “Maybe you see me as a conquest.”
Never have I ever shown this kind of weakness to a man, but this one? I can’t fight my attraction to him. He’s everything I want.
He stalks around the reception counter, grabs my arms in a solid grip and yanks me to my feet. His face is hostile. “You already know I don’t fuckin’ see you as a conquest.” Then he kisses me hard, long, and lusty. It’s good that he’s holding me upright, because his passion streaks past my lady bits to my knees, which start to buckle.
“Trigger,” I moan as he wraps his arms around me and holds me like I’m the sweetest thing he’s ever touched.
His aggression gives way to soft kisses that make me believe in happy ever after. “The day we met was the best day of my life and I’ve had some pretty fuckin’ good days,” he murmurs, his lips a hairsbreadth away from mine. “I couldn’t find you anywhere, didn’t know enough about you, but you were in my thoughts every fucking minute of every fucking day.”
I slide my hands around his shoulders. “I know. Me too. But how’s this going to work? We’re on opposing sides of a dilemma.”
He lets me go and I grab the edge of the desk to keep from falling back into the chair. “I don’t know,” he says as he runs his hand through his long curly hair and paces towards the window. “I don’t fuckin’ know.”
I follow him, slide my arms around him from the back, press my face between his shoulder blades, and inhale the smoky leather of his cut. The subtle scent of danger burns through me. “It’s like I’ve known you forever and I’ll know you forever, but even if this ends in heartbreak, I’d like to give us a try.”
He turns and crushes me against him, his strong arms cocooning me. “There won’t be heartbreak, won’t be tryin’. We’re not walkin’ away from each other, even if the going gets rough.”
I nod into his chest, resisting the urge to yank his T-shirt up and lick his well-defined pecs. “Then take me to your leader.”
He sighs in resignation. “I don’t like how this is gonna go down if Hangman decides to play hardball.”
Hangman? I wonder what he did to merit such an ominous club name. “We’ll figure it out,” I tell him, but despite his promises, I don’t deceive myself. Trigger barely knows me and Hell’s Jury is his club. His loyalty will lie with them over a woman he’s met twice.
“Okay.” He nods as his eyes rake me. “Best you change.”
I’m wearing my Alexander Wang studded platform sandals, my white lab coat over a black Valentino crepe couture skirt and a lovely emerald-green button-up sleeveless silk shirt that I found in the bargain bin at Saks.
“Into what?” I ask, genuinely confused. “And why?”
“You’ll be riding with me on my Sturgis.”
“Sturgis?”
“Yeah. My Harley. Vintage,” he replies proudly.
I’m still not getting it. “And…?”
He waves his hand from my chest to my feet. “You ain’t dressed for it.”
“Oh.” The light comes on. “Of course.”
I slip out of my lab coat, draping it over the reception chair, then grab my Saint Laurent hobo bag, and head for the door. “Let’s go,” I toss him a sultry smile as I walk past him.
Chapter Eight
Trigger
I help Evanee on the back of my sled as Crank and Zero head towards me. Crank is chewing on a hotdog. “What’s happenin’ now?” he says as he swallows the last half of it whole and then burps.
Evanee smiles at them in a way that makes me wanna punch them. “We’re going to your president,” she tells them. She’s got her skirt hiked up around her thighs, the front of her high heels on the passenger foot pegs, and she’s tuggin’ on the helmet I handed her. It’s like she was born to ride a bike.
This is the woman of my dreams I tell myself ignoring the asswipes who can’t stop looking at her long legs. She wraps her arms around my waist and presses up against me as I climb on in front of her. “I’m ready,” she whispers in my ear in way that speaks to my dick. I will it to behave because riding a bike with a boner is fucking uncomfortable.
“You ride?”
She nods into my shoulder blades. “I used to have a 1998 Valkyrie.”
“Are you fucking kiddin’ me?” I twist my head to look at her. “GL1500C?”
She grins at my enthusiasm. “Yes, that’s the one.”
“What happened to it?”
“My father decided it was too dangerous for me. He replaced it with my BMW, and call me shallow, but who can say no to an i8 Roadster.”
My nipples get hard as I think of her drivin’ her own bike next to me, decked out in black leather from head to toe.
The four of us roar away from the curb and head to the clubhouse. I’m having trouble thinking with Evanee pressed into me. I can feel her tits against my back and want to be naked with her lying on my back, feelin’ her body touching mine. I don’t know how I’d fuck her that way, but I’d been willin’ to give it a try.
My head ain’t where it needs to be. It should be focused on the fact that I’m taking her to an unplanned meeting with Hangman. He’s gonna kick my ass, but I’m obsessed with her and even if I don’t know her all that well, I’m gonna have to talk the prez into leaving her alone. If I can’t get through to him, I’ll never have sex with her and my dick will get so depressed it’ll fall off, run away from home, and find someone who’s willing to ride it.
When we get to the clubhouse, there’s no one around to open the gates.
“What the fuck?” I snarl at Zero as if it’s his fault the gate isn’t manned.
He boots down his kickstand and swings himself off his bike. “I swear to god you guys have your heads up your asses sometimes,” he grumbles as he walks to the gate, climbs six feet up the fence, then punches the buttons on a keypad that’s practically invisible unless you know where it is. The gate slowly slides open.
“I didn’t know we had that,” I say, feeling like maybe I was told and then forgot.
“It’s new!” Crank yells over the noise of his idling bikes. “Coyote installed it two weeks ago.”
“Fucking asshole,” I say under my breath wondering if I’m the only that didn’t know.
After we park, I get off the bike, then turn to Evanee who’s still straddling it. I lose my breath as she takes off her helmet, then shakes out her hair. It’s beautiful – the rich color, the curls, the way it frames her face. Windblown, it’s so sexy I want to bury my face in it.
She smiles like she knows what I’m thinking, then holds my arm as she dismounts. She’s grace personified, balancing on one heel while she slides her leg over the seat, then gives a little hop as she lands. Her breasts bounce, the cleavage peeking out from behind the straining buttons of her top like it’s shy.
She wiggles her hips as she straightens her skirt, then tugs at the sleeves of her blouse and adjusts the front. “You’re a good ride,” she says with a sultry smile.
Goosebumps race up my arms. “You have no idea, baby.” I grab her by the waist and tuck her into my body. She’s a temptress and I like that she’s teasing me, but I got a feeling that it’s almost a compulsion with her. I can’t tell if she’s playing with me or if she’s genuine.
I decide the conundrum is something I can contemplate later as Blood catches my attention coming out of the clubhouse. “What’s going on?” he asks as he strolls up to us, his hands tucked into the pockets on his jeans. He scans Evanee. “So this is what all the fuss is about.”
“Fuss?” Evanee asks in her smooth sultry voice.
“You got the prospects tied up in knots and Prez is spittin’ fire. It’s a fuss.”
She nods thoughtfully. “But not unsalvageable?”
“Days not over,” he says with a wink and heads towards the Chamber.
Evanee raises her perfect eyebrows. “I like him.”
“He’s taken,” I grumble.
“So are you,” she smirks as she links her arm in mine. “Take me to your leader.”
Chapter Nine
Evanee
There are two men in the office when Trigger and I walk in. I assume the president is the one who’s sitting behind the desk.
The other man, who’s tucked into a space between the desk and wall, is tall and swarthy with penetrating eyes that linger on me. He smirks at Trigger. “You’ve outdone yourself this time, bro.”
Trigger scowls. “Mind your fuckin’ manners, Reaper, or we’ll take it outside.”
Reaper raises his brows, but simply nods, then looks at me again, this time with speculation in his eyes.
