CHAPTER ELEVEN

Cane

 

“Your club brother, Tony, is working on our After Hours website,” Karl said. “He came to see me last night.”

I was glad we were speaking over the phone so Karl couldn’t see the horror on my face. As it was, Hung gave me a curious look from where he was eating at the kitchen table. I turned my back to him and slipped out onto the screened-in porch. “I told you I want my private life and business to remain separate,” I told Karl for what seemed like the dozenth time in the past few days, working hard to rein in my anger and losing the battle fast. I’d seen Karl take Tony’s card, but I’d hoped he’d only been trying to make me angry. I should have realized and warned Tony. The idea that he had been to see my cousin turned my blood cold.

“That’s ridiculous. From what I’ve heard about motorcycle clubs, they’re tight-knit groups. Family. And your family is my family. It only makes sense that we would hire family to do work for us. Tony agrees, and he’s a very talented young man. He should have been working for us ages ago.”

I closed my eyes and pinched my nose between my finger and thumb. Arguing would only make things worse. I didn’t want Karl to know how much this mattered to me. How much Tony mattered to me. “He’s been away for a long time, and besides—my club knows nothing about your business dealings.”

“Our business dealings,” Karl corrected. “And I didn’t mention anything other than what is on the up and up.”

I took a deep, cleansing breath. There was nothing I could do about the situation at this point. My only hope was for Tony to work quickly and to convince him never to work with Karl again. “Tony will do a good job for us,” I said.

“I agree. He seems very talented. If this works out, our relationship could be mutually beneficial.”

I wanted to growl at him that he and Tony would have any kind of relationship over my dead body, but I knew it would be a grave mistake to show strong emotion on the subject. I listened to Karl talk about other things, feeling as though my life was spiraling out of my control, and when we disconnected I immediately went in search of Tony.

I found him down in the basement, not working on his laptop—although it sat open on the table—but circling the weighted bag hanging from the ceiling, making sharp jabs at it with his bare fists. He’d taken off his shirt and his lean, muscular chest was slick with sweat. His jogging pants hung low on his narrow hips, revealing the two tempting divots on each side of his spine above his tailbone.

Tony paused, fists raised, when I entered and looked questioningly at me.

“You should wrap your hands when you do that,” I said. “You could break a bone and not be able to work or paint.”

Sweat had turned Tony’s blond waves to the color of wet sand, making his eyes look a deeper blue than usual.

“It’ll be okay,” he said, resuming his workout, alternating jabs and straights at the bag.

I reached for the wraps on the shelf.

“Stop,” I said and when he turned to me again, stepped closer. “Let me wrap them.”

Tony eyed me warily before relenting and holding out his right hand. Looping his thumb, I pulled the wrap over the back of his hand and three times around his knuckles before stretching it toward his wrist to do the same, all the while reveling in the opportunity to touch him even a small amount. I glanced up and was momentarily caught in the snare of his gaze, which held mine until I pulled my attention back to my task. When I’d wrapped through his fingers and around his wrist one more time, I made a couple of X patterns over his hand and secured the wrap. As I repeated the process with his left hand, I said, “I’ll bet you didn’t expect a hand job when I came down here.”

Tony snorted, and I looked up. Our eyes met again, and his deepened from amused to something else entirely. My heart sped up and I quickly secured the second wrap.

“Thanks,” he said, flexing his hands. I stepped away and watched him go at the bag for a while. When he’d tired himself out, I handed him a water bottle from the fridge in the corner.

“Come down here just to watch me exercise?” Tony asked, collapsing onto the pile of bean bags on the floor and looking up at me.

“I wanted to talk to you.” I pulled the straight-back chair from behind Tony’s makeshift desk and sat on it backward, resting my chin on my arms.

“About what?”

I watched Tony’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed the water, his neck glistening with sweat, and tried and failed to keep my gaze from wandering downward to the small brown nipples on his smooth chest, which brought back vivid memories of him straddling me as he lowered himself onto my cock. I’d loved the way he’d moaned and arched his back when I’d pinched them.

I cleared my throat. I needed to say what I’d sought him out to say and get out of there. “It’s not a good idea for you to get involved with my cousin.”

Tony huffed out a laugh. “I don’t know what he told you, but I’m hardly getting involved with him. I’m revamping his website, for which he is paying me. That’s my job.”

“Karl has a way of using the people he comes into close contact with.”

“Like you?” Tony asked, reaching for a hand towel.

I was glad he couldn’t see the surprise I quickly wiped from my face. “Like you.”

Tony sighed. “Exactly how is he going to use me? We have a contract.”

Unease rolled through me. Damn. “Did you read it before you signed it?”

Tony’s eyes sparked with anger. “Of course I goddamn read it!”

“And he didn’t include any sneaky little clauses?” I pressed.

Tony glared. “Look, I didn’t just roll off the hay truck or whatever the fuck. I read the contract and signed it. I’m working on the website. I’ll probably never talk to the guy again afterward. End of story.”

“What if he offers you more work?”

Tony sat up, the curve of his full lips hardening. That wasn’t the only thing hardening: my briefs were suddenly way too tight. Something about the way he looked all fired up really turned me on. I wanted to push him down onto the mat and fuck him.

“What’s this about, really?” Tony asked.

I didn’t notice he’d stood until his abs were suddenly level with my face. I could smell his clean sweat and was sure if I leaned forward just a little, I could trace the fine blond hairs of his happy trail with my tongue. My mouth watered thinking about it. Slowly, I raised my eyes to his.

Tony’s nostrils flared. “Don’t fuck with me, Cane.”

I drew in a sharp breath as I imagined pulling his cock from his shorts and wrapping my mouth around it.

“I’m not fucking with you,” I said hoarsely, amazed that I could speak at all with that image in my head. “It’s a bad idea for you to have anything to do with my cousin, but since you signed a contract, I can only ask that you get the work done quickly and then walk away.”

“What the fuck else would I do?” Tony asked, throwing his wrapped hands in the air.

Mindful of my painful erection, I carefully rose from the chair and set it back in its place before heading for the stairs. I knew how I must look to him. I’d rejected his overtures, and instead of giving him space when he’d returned from his trip, I’d tried to force a truce, not that he’d let me get that far. Then I’d practically begged him to let things be normal again, and now here I was trying to dictate who he worked for.

But I didn’t fucking trust Karl, and if it took Tony resenting me even more than he already did to keep him safe, so be it.