~Eli~
I prowled through the bar, unable to focus.
Gage, Rance, and the rest of my club brothers had cleared out by the time I left Gus’s office. Apparently, their business here was done, and socializing wasn’t on the agenda. Probably looking to avoid any drama.
Hard to blame them.
The night that Glory—Peaches’ mom—had walked in on Gus fucking one of the waitresses in the storeroom was something of a club legend. To say that she’d raised hell was a bit of an understatement… Only luck had saved the Starkwood from burning down.
Hopefully, history wouldn’t be repeating itself.
The thought carried me down the hallway, and I found myself outside the office door. It couldn’t have been more than ten minutes since Peaches and Gus had started talking, but it felt like hours. Nervous energy filled my body, pulling me in fifty different directions at once. Part of me wanted to go tell the staff who was in charge now.
Stake my claim and make it official.
Another part wanted to celebrate. Maybe get drunk. Getting laid would probably do some good, too. At the same time, I wanted to go through the books, start wrapping my head around the totality of the business. Gus would help with the transition, of course, and I’d grown up watching him. I knew the basics. Still, there was a big difference between being the boss’s nephew and being the boss.
Oh, and there’d be a metric fuck ton of legal paperwork to deal with, too.
Logistics. Money transfers.
Title companies were a thing, although I wasn’t quite sure what they did. Would I need one of those?
I had no fucking clue about stuff like this. As of this morning, I’d owned a motorcycle, three towels, a laundry basket of clothes, my leathers, a helmet, and my club colors. Oh, and that stuffed animal. Going from that to owning property and a business would be a hell of an adjustment.
This was going to take time. Time and hard work.
Celebrating probably shouldn’t be my highest priority.
Leaning back against the wall, I crossed my arms over my chest as I waited. There was a storm building in Gus’s office. I could all but smell Peaches’ anger and betrayal, and I actually felt a twinge of guilt.
No. Fuck that shit.
I’d earned this bar, paid for it with five long years in prison, holding my tongue and taking the punishment for a crime that wasn’t mine. Gus owed me for that alone. The fact that he’d get a cash payout was just a bonus at this point.
No reason for me to feel guilty. And that was the truth.
Still, I could see how much this sucked for Peaches. She’d put in time, too. Time and good faith. Riling her up was a blast, but I’d never wanted her hurt. Not for real. I cared about the girl. Cared about her a lot.
Too much.
Gus had been weak. I loved my uncle, but he’d fucked this one up big time. She deserved better from him—and from me. I should be in there with them. Decision made, I reached for the door.
“Get out! Get the fuck out of here, you lying bastard!”
The door burst open, and Gus stumbled out, walking backward. I caught his arm and steadied him as the slab slammed shut again. I heard the heavy bolt sliding shut, locking us out. My uncle looked at me, then sighed.
“Actually went better than I expected.”
“Glad I don’t have to deal with hiding a body.”
“Not yet,” he replied, then sighed again. “She’s not a happy camper. Probably should’ve warned her that our plans might change once you got out.”
“Why didn’t you? Would’ve been a lot easier on her.”
“Guess I didn’t want her turning on me,” my uncle admitted, surprising me with his honesty. “I knew she’d hate me for it. God, but I miss her mom. Saw her in town a couple weeks ago. It’s been twenty years, and Glory still won’t even look at me.”
Raw pain filled his eyes. I cleared my throat, uncomfortable. Fuck. I didn’t like this. Didn’t like my girl hurting, and didn’t like having to see my uncle like this.
Didn’t like knowing I was part of it.
A loud thump came from behind the door, breaking the moment. There was a crash, and then some kind of tearing noise. Shit.
Some women pouted when they got upset.
Others cried.
Peaches had always skipped that part, moving straight to revenge. Another crash. This one so hard that the door rattled. I pictured her all pissed off in there, those glorious tits of hers straining against the front of her low-cut black Starkwood Saloon shirt. My cock twitched. Christ, she was hot when she got angry.
Her cheeks would be flushed, and she’d run her fingers through that wild, dark hair of hers in frustration.
Total sex hair.
Now my dick was getting hard, thinking about grabbing onto the strands, pulling her head back while I fucked her from behind.
I am such an asshole. The only woman I really cared about—hell, probably loved on whatever level I was capable of feeling such things—had just lost her dream.
A decent guy wouldn’t be turned on right now.
Unfortunately, my sense of decency had died in prison, leaving behind a man who got off on the idea of sparring with Peaches. The door shook again, followed by a wordless scream of rage.
“Maybe I should—?”
“No,” I said, cutting Gus off. “I’ll handle this. You go out to the bar. Cover damage control. I’ll take care of Peaches.”
“I know that look on your face, boy,” he said, warning clear in his voice. “You don’t get to—”
“All due respect, Gus, but we’re not in high school anymore. This is my business, not yours.”
My uncle’s eyes widened, and for a moment, I thought he might challenge me. Then he looked away, nodding slowly.
“Guess you’re right,” he said.
Another crash rattled the door as he walked away, and I settled in to wait. Sooner or later, she’d run out of shit to break in there. I wasn’t stupid enough to think that’d be enough to exhaust her rage, so I’d best be ready.
In the distance, I heard Gus’s loud voice announcing that everyone needed to head outside for a break.
The door rattled again, then it burst open.
Peaches stepped out, and the first thing I saw was the way her eyes seemed to shoot pure fire.
Just like her mother’s.
The second thing was the giant fucking survival knife gripped tightly in her right hand. A sane man might’ve taken that as a bad sign, but I’d left my sanity behind me, right next to my decency.
This wasn’t a threat. This was an opportunity.
Someone had to take her down, and as her new boss, that definitely qualified as my job. Only responsible thing to do, really… Couldn’t let the customers see her like this.
If I got lucky, I’d get to wrestle with her a bit in the process.
“Still think I’d be prettier if I smiled?” she asked, the words intense and full of hate.
“Yeah,” I replied, licking my lips. A wave of heat surged down my spine, and I felt my hips shift restlessly as my cock throbbed. “But pretty is boring. I like you better when you’re pissed off. Makes me want to push you down over that desk and fuck you.”
* * * *
~Peaches~
“You always find a way to make it worse, don’t you?” I asked, fingers tightening around the knife’s grip.
Eli nodded, wearing the same sly, taunting smirk he’d worn when he’d held his BB gun to Lemur’s head all those years ago.
“You sure you want it to go down like this?” he asked, eyes flicking toward the knife. “That’s a very grown-up toy, and you’re not a very big girl. Hardly big enough to hold it.”
Fucking.
Bastard.
He wouldn’t stop until I snapped, of course. He got off on poking at me, and I knew it…but for once, I didn’t care. I’d stepped out of that office fully intending to slit his throat. This just confirmed the decision.
And once I finished with him? Well, then I’d go after Gus. Because fuck them. Fuck both of them and their stupid club.
Eli just stood there, gloating. Waiting for me to bitch him out? I didn’t bother. Shifting my feet for balance, I lowered the knife between us, then took a steadying breath. The blade was heavy, but I was strong from years of hauling big serving trays over my head.
I lunged.
He reacted instantly—Eli had always been fast—his hand flashing out to catch my arm, jerking it high over my head as he stepped into my space. But this wasn’t our first fight, or even our first fight with a knife. I’d nearly taken his eye out at a second-grade picnic. I knew how he moved, and I knew how to use it to my advantage. The knife was just the bait. I ignored the pain of his fingers squeezing my wrist and brought my knee up toward his crotch with every ounce of strength I possessed.
It was random luck that saved his balls. He chose that exact moment to twist my arm down and around. That sent me lurching to the side, my knee smashing into his thigh instead of his nuts. Eli’s eyes narrowed, and the smirk disappeared.
Good. About time he remembered to take me seriously.
His grip on my wrist tightened, squeezing the bones together until they screamed in pain. I kept hold of the knife. He could break my wrist for all I cared.
Taking advantage of his distraction, I jabbed the fingers of my left hand toward the little hollow at the base of his throat. He managed to partially deflect that, too, loosening his grip on my knife hand in the process. I tried to jerk it free, my other hand dodging his as he tried to catch it. The man might be fast, but I was faster. Fast and determined.
This time, I went for his nipple.
I twisted it hard through his shirt, savoring the vivid red flush that came over his face. Eli’s nipples were sensitive as hell, always had been. It’d been a go-to for me all through elementary school. I hadn’t tried it since we were adults, but some things never changed.
Then he caught my wrist, wrenching my grip loose from the nipple in a move that must’ve been excruciating—I wouldn’t let him go easily. That’s where I had the advantage, I realized. Eli wouldn’t hurt me. I knew it on some deep level. Instinctively.
He had both my hands now.
That should’ve been enough to stop me, but I was just getting started. I bucked against him, then threw my weight backward. He followed me, pushing me through the office door.
“Stop fighting,” he grunted. I answered with a headbutt, which would’ve been a lot more effective if he wasn’t so fucking tall. Instead of knocking him on his ass movie-style, I mostly whacked the hell out of my forehead on his chin. “Jesus, Peaches. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”
I tried to knee him again. He blocked it with his leg, using my arms to push me away just enough to transfer my wrists to one hand. That left the knife fairly close to his stomach. I could stab him, I realized. Throw my body into his as hard as I could. If I did, that knife would slice right through him.
Well, more through his side than anything, but the theory was the same. I took a breath, then hesitated.
Did I really want to do that?
An instant passed, and then it was too late. Using his free hand, he wrenched at my fingers. The knife fell to the floor, and he kicked it under the desk. Still holding both wrists in one hand, he wrapped the other arm around me, turning us both as he pushed my body toward the door.
At first, I thought he meant to march me down the hallway, presumably to gloat about how he’d beaten me. He caught the door instead, closing it with a crash. Then he shoved me against it, catching my hands with his again, pinning my wrists up and over my head. His big frame pushed into mine, trapping me, making it very clear that a five-foot-four-inch woman was a hell of a lot shorter than a man taller than six feet.
Eli had seriously worked out in prison.
I’d noticed how much he bulked up. Not that I liked noticing it, but I’d definitely noticed it. Now I felt it. Felt it in ways that reminded me that this wasn’t the first time he’d pinned me down.
Hadn’t been able to get the last time out of my mind, either, no matter how hard I tried to erase that particular memory.
“You need to settle the fuck down,” he said, his eyes dark and hard, his gaze boring into mine. But his hips pushed against me when he said it, and I felt the length of something against my stomach.
At least part of him wasn’t pissed off.
“Or what? You already won, asshole,” I said, glaring up at him. My chest pushed against his as I tried to catch my breath. God. This sucked, because I wanted him. Wanted him in ways that just weren’t right, because nobody should fantasize about fucking their mortal enemy. All I could think about was him sliding into me, though.
Deep inside, I clenched, feeling empty.
Then I caught his scent.
Shampoo. Not a man’s shampoo, either. That was a woman’s shampoo, which meant he’d spent the night with someone and then used her shower this morning, I realized.
God, what an asshole… The poor girl probably had no clue that he would never bother to call her. Odds were that he already had someone else lined up for tonight, and now here he was, grinding on me. Would I leave my scent on him, or would the next in line think that shampoo told the whole story?
It was a good reminder. Eli didn’t even pretend to be decent. He never had.
“I hate you,” I said, putting every bit of my rage and bitterness into my voice. His hips angled closer, and his cock pushed into me.
The place between my legs tightened, and my breasts felt full. A trickle of sensation wound its way along my spine. God must hate me because Eli had always made me feel this way. I’d fantasize about him at night, then hate him during the day. Because no matter how much I fantasized, he never paid attention.
I could hate him or fight with him all I wanted, but the problem was, any time we touched, he made me weak. Suddenly, I didn’t want to kill him anymore.
I wanted to slide my arms around his neck…and then jump up, wrapping my legs around his waist. I’d grind against him until his dick hurt. Need burned inside of me. I recognized it and hated myself for it because nobody but Eli seemed to work me up like this.
It wasn’t that I hadn’t had sex. I’d slept with several guys through the years. But no matter who I fucked, they never quite got to me the way Eli did.
And they sure as hell couldn’t satisfy me.
Although he’d satisfied me that night… The thought was enough to light a fire inside, and I blinked, trying to ignore it. Eli gave a low laugh. His hips rolled against my belly, and that hard length got bigger.
“You know you want it,” he said, the words soft and knowing. Need wrenched its way through me. He was right. I totally wanted it.
But I’d die before giving him the satisfaction of admitting it.
“You had your chance,” I whispered. His hips rolled again. God. He was too tall. His dick was centered on my stomach, and because of that, he wasn’t touching me where I needed to be touched.
Evil, I reminded myself. A flash of Lemur’s tiny stuffed animal face filled my vision, and I felt new resolve. It didn’t matter how sexy Eli was, or how many dreams I’d had about his cock slamming home into me.
This was the same person who’d kidnapped Lemur.
Then he’d murdered him, caring so little that he hadn’t even bothered to notice where he’d thrown the innocent little creature’s body.
I’d sworn a vow that day, one that I’d nearly broken five years ago.
I wouldn’t be breaking that promise today.
Eli transferred my wrists to one hand again then dropped his free palm down to my face, cupping one cheek as his thumb brushed gently across my lips. Back and forth, the scrape of callused skin across softness called to me. My nipples hurt, and I found my hips rocking forward involuntarily.
Hungry…seeking.
“You want it,” he said again, his eyes catching and holding mine. “I do, too. I jerked off a thousand times in prison, picturing you under me. I’d lie awake at night, hand squeezing my cock hard enough to hurt, wondering what it’d feel like to sink into your pussy. This thing between us, Peaches, it’s real. It’s been real for a long time. We need to make peace.”
His voice was so soothing…
My eyes fluttered shut as his thumb probed my lips. I hesitated, then opened my mouth, sucking his digit inside. Then I rubbed the bottom of it with my tongue, pretending I was sucking on something else.
Eli groaned, then shifted, lowering himself before sort of scooping up and into me with his hips. The new position had to be uncomfortable as hell, but it left his cock right where it was supposed to be.
“Some nights, I’d think about that time you stole my car,” he continued, his voice near hypnotic. “I remember the look on your face when I finally caught up to you. Jesus. You were so proud of yourself. I couldn’t decide whether to strangle you or fuck you over the hood.”
His thumb pushed in farther. I didn’t protest, I just sucked it in deeper.
“You used to piss me off so much.”
My teeth nipped his thumb, and he groaned. I’d heard that sound before…the night he’d gotten arrested. That’s the noise he’d made when I unzipped his pants then slid my hand inside to discover how ready he was for me.
The skin covering his dick had been tight.
Painfully so. Tight and hard and ready to thrust deep inside of me, just like his fingers had been inside of me as we kissed.
You could let him do that right now… His thumb pulled back, then thrust into my mouth again. Deeper this time. One of my legs shifted to the side, my knee sliding up and along his thigh. Eli shuddered against me, hips bucking into mine.
I tugged at my arms, and he let them go.
“I’m going to kiss you,” he murmured, pulling his thumb free. Then I felt his breath on my lips.
Opening my eyes just a little, I reached up, tangling my fingers in his hair. Then his mouth came down over mine. I latched on to his bottom lip with my teeth and bit Eli King as hard as I could.
For Lemur.
He gave a strangled shout and jerked back his head. That was a bad move on his part, because I was still firmly attached. One of my hands gripped his hair as the other slid down between us.
Just like I had that night.
But this time, I didn’t reach for his cock.
Nope. This time, it was all about the balls. Catching them wasn’t easy—the denim of his jeans protected them—but I managed to get enough of a grip that he stilled as I tightened my fingers.
“Jesus,” he tried to say, but the word was all garbled. My teeth still held him, and the faint taste of blood filled my mouth. I took a moment to secure my grasp on his nuts, giving them a squeeze for good measure. Then I let his lip go, tugging back on his hair, studying his face.
Eli might be bigger, heavier, and better at fighting than me, but I was meaner.
“Do not think for one minute that I’m stupid enough to fall for your shit,” I said.
“I could kill you,” he answered, frustration and anger warring for control on his face. Nice. “Don’t you get it, Peaches? You may think you’re all tough, but you’re just a little thing. You can’t beat me like this.”
“You sure about that?” I asked, twisting my fingers. It had to be killing him, but he didn’t blink.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m sure.”
In an instant, he’d somehow shoved his arm between us, then twisted around. I flew toward the floor and would’ve hit it, except he caught me, literally hoisting me over his shoulder like a firefighter.
“Let me go, you fucking bastard!” I shrieked, trying to figure out how I’d gone from literally having him by the balls to…this. I started hitting his back and kicking, then tried to lift my entire body up.
That got me a smack on the ass, which I did not find amusing.
Eli took three steps, then flopped me down onto the couch. A second later, he was on top of me, thrusting his knee between mine. My arms were splayed out above my head, held down firmly by his hands. His hips pinned mine. I saw a little trickle of blood coming from his lip. My tongue darted out, and I tasted copper on mine.
We settled into glaring at each other, trying to catch our breaths. Then he spoke.
“You are a fucking bitch, Peaches Taylor.”
“You better believe it,” I replied, narrowing my eyes. “You think you’ve won—”
“I have won.”
“But I’ll find a way to make your life a living hell,” I continued, ignoring his declaration. Eli snorted.
“You’ve been making my life hell since I was seven years old. That has to change if you want to keep working here.”
“What makes you think I’d work for you?” I snapped.
“You love it,” he snapped back. “And you’re good at it,” he added, clearly reluctant to admit the truth.
But he was right. I really was good at running the bar. Way better than Gus had ever been. We had a whole new class of customers. Dancing on the weekends… I’d changed the entire model, and it showed.
“Damned right, I’m good at it. That’s why I should be buying the bar right now. Not you.”
“So we both know that you’re good at managing the place,” he continued, ignoring my other statement. “And we both know that I’ve been gone a long time. Gus can help me during the transition, but if I really want this place to succeed, I need you here. I want you to manage the place. Officially. You’re already doing all the work. Might as well have the title and authority.”
My jaw dropped. “Do you seriously think that you can just sweet-talk me—?”
“Shut the fuck up, Peaches!” he snapped. It startled both of us. I was the one who blew up. Not him.
“Just shut the fuck up,” he repeated. “For once. Listen to me, okay?”
“So you can feed me some line of bullshit about needing me?” I asked, suddenly tired. “You don’t need me, Eli. You’ve never needed me. All you need is your fucking club.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I closed my eyes, wishing I’d been smart enough to walk out when Gus told me the news. That was my big flaw, I realized. I didn’t know when to let go. Never had… “It doesn’t matter.”
“The fuck it doesn’t,” he said, giving my hands a jerk. His hips ground into mine, and I felt my legs spreading for him, even as I hated him. “Tell me what you meant.”
Fuck it.
“None of you let me talk to the cops after they arrested you,” I said. “I was there, Eli. With you. I don’t know who really killed that guy, but it wasn’t you. You had an alibi. You were with me. Hell, you were almost in me.”
His cock hardened as I said the words, and without thinking, I circled my pelvis into his. We were both thinking about that night now, and it hurt. “After all those years of fighting, that night we were together. And then you let them take you away. I could’ve saved you from that, but you wouldn’t let me. Why?”
My jeans were soft, and I felt every seam and bump inside his as he slowly rocked against me. He didn’t say anything for long seconds, and I felt the waves of need building in me even as my frustration grew.
“I couldn’t,” he finally replied. “I just couldn’t, okay?”
“Why not?” I asked, knowing I was giving myself away, and not caring. I’d spent the last five years wondering why a man would choose prison… A man with an alibi. Someone who’d been all but fucking me while the crime was committed.
The silence grew painful as we stared at each other, my eyes pleading with his for answers.
“I can’t tell you,” he whispered.
That’s what he’d said then, too.
“Let me go.”
“No.”
“Let. Me. Go,” I said again, my voice harder. “I see how it is… I give up. You hear that? I. Give. Up. You win, Eli. You get the bar. You get to keep your secrets. But you don’t get to fuck me, and you don’t get to serve me bullshit and expect me to thank you with a smile. Let me up. I’m leaving.”
He didn’t move, and we lay there for a moment—him hard between my legs. Me, pinned beneath him. We were near each other like always, I realized. But we’d never really be together. Then he spoke, and his words shocked me.
“I don’t want you to leave.”
“Let me up,” I whispered again, refusing to listen. To wonder why he’d say something like that. It didn’t matter. Whatever game he was playing, it didn’t matter.
Eli suddenly rolled to the side, then reached down to offer me his hand. I ignored it, sitting up, trying to think. He shook his head, then sat down next to me.
“I’ll give you two weeks’ notice,” I said after another long pause. “You don’t deserve it, but I’ve put way too much work into this bar to just walk off and let everything fall apart. Gus hasn’t been running things for the past few years. I have.”
“I know,” Eli replied, his voice serious. “Gus knows, too.”
Hearing the words hurt. More than I expected.
“Am I supposed to be thankful that he noticed?”
“Look, I know you’re angry at him—”
“No, I’m angry at you.”
“But he loves you. He’s always loved you.”
“Like he loved my mom?” I asked, turning to look at Eli directly. His eyes softened. We sat there for a moment, just staring at each other, and then the ridiculousness of the situation hit me.
“This is crazy,” I said, glancing around and taking in the office. I’d shredded the poster. The chairs had been knocked over, and I’d smashed the keyboard into the wall.
Eli snorted.
“Your mom would’ve set the place on fire.”
“My mom did set the place on fire,” I replied, feeling a little smirk stealing across my mouth. “I feel like I failed her. I didn’t even make it out of the hallway.”
“The customers do a pretty good job of tearing up the bar itself,” Eli said casually. “You’re more of a specialist. Although I appreciate the fact that you didn’t kill the computer. I don’t know how good the backup system is.”
I glanced over at it, thinking of all the hours I’d put in working on it. “It’s set to automatically back up to the cloud. I do the books. Did you know that? Gus hasn’t worked on them in years. You’re fucked, Eli.”
My smirk turned to a full-on smile at the thought.
“I know,” Eli admitted, and he smiled, too. “Jesus, you’re never boring. Don’t leave, Peaches. Manage the bar. I’ll pay you more. We can make this work.”
“How much more?” I asked, allowing myself to consider it. Could I work for him? I wasn’t sure…
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I haven’t seen the books. I don’t even know how much you’re getting paid now. You’ll have to tell me.”
I thought about it, glancing up at what remained of the poster. It’d taken months to find, but less than a minute to destroy it. Not that I regretted it. Gus deserved it. He really had fucked me over…just like he’d fucked over my mom. But I still needed a job, and Eli would be offering me a very nice salary, I decided. A very nice one, indeed.
Otherwise, he could figure out the passwords on his own, because Gus sure as hell didn’t know them. Idiots. Both of them were idiots.
“I’ll give it a month,” I told him thoughtfully. “But don’t fuck with me, Eli. I’m serious. Or next time, I really will slit your throat.”
“I believe you,” he replied, and it almost sounded like he did. I’d have to retrieve that survival knife before he remembered it. Hide it somewhere good. “I’m just glad you didn’t have one of those knives when we were kids.”
I considered the thought of my five-year-old self with a ten-inch steel blade, then nodded slowly.
“Yeah, you’re probably right about that. I had more of a temper back then.”
Eli coughed, then looked away. I could tell he wanted to say something. I waited, but he kept his mouth shut.
Wow.
Maybe he’d gotten a little smarter in prison. I still hated the bastard, but I could take his money. For a while, at least. Hard to know with an old building, though. So many things could go wrong. Maybe there’d be a fire, after all.
We’d just have to wait and see.