Six years ago
~Peaches~
“You know,” I said, speaking very slowly so the words wouldn’t slur. “I think I like the drinking alcohol better than I like serving it.”
McKayla nodded, her face serious.
“Way better,” she replied, handing me her liquor bottle. “And that’s not the only thing we’ve been doing wrong.”
I took a deep swig. Tequila. Wasn’t sure how much I’d had, but it was enough that it didn’t burn going down anymore.
“Doing what wrong?” I asked.
“Working,” she said, swaying to the side. I caught her arm so she wouldn’t fall over. Not that it’d hurt her much. We were already sitting on the floor for reasons that’d made sense to me in the moment.
“We should stop working here,” McKayla continued. “And start drinking here. You know, instead of working. I just think that’d be better. Can I have the bottle again?”
I frowned, considering the idea as I handed over the tequila. Challenging, with all the party noise. The buzzing in my head didn’t help either. Every time I caught a thought, it tried to wiggle away.
“Drinking does seem way better than working,” I agreed. “But we also need money to buy the drinks. So, if we stop working here, we’ll probably have to work somewhere else. Otherwise, we’ll run out of money.”
“Oh,” she said, her smile fading. She fell silent. I took the opportunity to survey the room—well, as much of it as I could see from the floor—pleased with how many people had shown up. All the Reapers, of course. Not just the locals, but quite a few from other chapters. Most of our friendly regulars, too.
The only one I hadn’t seen yet was the birthday boy. Gus.
McKayla grabbed my arm, shaking it.
“What?” I asked.
“I’ve got the best idea! We don’t need our own money to buy drinks. We just need someone to buy them. Anyone, really. So, why couldn’t we just sleep with men to get alcohol? That’s way more efficient than working.”
“Tough call,” I said slowly. “Because that sounds a little like prostitution.”
“Nope. Prostitutes earn money. We wouldn’t be earning money, just booze. And we’d keep it classy, too. No well drinks.”
“Hard to argue with logic like that…”
“I know, right?” she said, giggling. McKayla was many things. Sweet and cute. Friendly.
Ultimately not much brighter than a chicken, though.
“So, assuming we decide to do this—and that’s a big if—then who do you want to sleep with first?”
“Eli,” she said with a little too much enthusiasm. “I’d really like to fuck Eli. But only once you’re done with him. I follow the code.”
I scrunched my nose at her. “I’m not interested in Eli. He smells like dirty feet.”
“Yeah, I don’t believe that,” she said, reaching for the bottle again. “If you weren’t interested, you wouldn’t hang out with him so much.”
“I hang out at Gus’s house, which is where Eli happens to live,” I corrected her. “Between that and work, I see him a lot. Doesn’t mean I like it.”
“Does that mean I can have him?” she asked, perking up.
I frowned. For some reason, I didn’t care for that idea. Don’t think about it. Thinking is almost always a bad thing.
“Okay, whatever,” I said. “Just be sure to use like, six condoms. Because he’s probably got all kinds of cooties.”
McKayla gave a high-pitched squeal.
“You’re amazing, Peaches. I love you!” she said gleefully, raising the bottle for a drink. But instead of swallowing, she lowered it, glee replaced by grief. “Oh, this is the worst. How could something so terrible happen in such a beautiful moment?”
“What?”
She tilted the bottle upside down between us. Nothing came out.
“The tequila disappeared.”
“How did that happen?”
“Someone must’ve grabbed it while I was distracted. Then they drank all of if before putting it back in my hand, all without me ever noticing…”
I pictured Indiana Jones swapping out a bag of sand for treasure, and a snorting laugh escaped. McKayla shot me a dirty look. “Don’t make fun of me. It could’ve happened.”
“Yeah. Definitely the most likely explanation.”
She sniffed. “Doesn’t matter what happened to the booze. We need to focus on what’s actually important—finding another bottle. Fast. Otherwise, we’re at risk of sobering up. That’s not okay.”
“Once again, very hard to argue with your logic.”
“Exactly,” she said, nodding slowly. “Let’s go get more tequila.”
Standing up turned out to be a lot harder than I’d expected. My left leg had fallen asleep, and I’d been sitting on something sticky. Not only that, but by the time I completed the process, I couldn’t quite remember why I’d needed to get up in the first place.
Fortunately, the music was good, and people were starting to dance. Not only that, I loved dancing. Always had. And now there was a dance floor right in front of me when I needed it most.
Clearly, God wanted me to go shake my ass for a while.
Who was I to argue with God?
An hour later, Gus still hadn’t arrived.
The party was fantastic—even without the birthday boy—and I was having a blast. I’d danced with all kinds of people. Well, mostly women, but some of the younger guys, too. It seemed like half the state knew Gus, and they’d all shown up to party with him.
This included at least forty members of the Reapers Motorcycle Club, plus their old ladies. They’d come roaring into town earlier that day in groups, meeting up at the state park campground before forming a convoy to the Starkwood. Others had joined in behind them, and now there had to be at least a hundred motorcycles parked outside.
My ears were still ringing from the noise they’d made when they pulled into the lot. Or maybe they were ringing from the music. It was slowing down now, and people had started coupling up on the dance floor.
Seemed like a sign to me—time to rehydrate. Only water, though. I’d worked up a sweat. Winding my way through the crowd, I made for the bar.
That’s when I spotted Eli.
He sat on one of the stools, surveying the party as if we existed for his entertainment. To his right sat Tinker, and just past her was her man, Gage. I’d always liked both of them. My appreciation for McKayla was fading, though. She’d squeezed herself into the space between the stools to Eli’s left, resting her hand on his chest possessively.
Did it bother me? Absolutely not…although I couldn’t see them together for more than a night.
Eli needed someone smarter than McKayla.
Someone who could keep him in line.
None of my business, really, but I still needed water, and the best spot for flagging down the bartender was probably that gap between Eli and Gage’s old lady.
“Do you mind?” I asked Tinker, choosing not to acknowledge Eli’s presence.
“Not at all,” she said with a big smile, scooting over. “It’s a great party, Peaches. You did a good job planning it.”
Eli shifted, and his elbow caught me. Returning Tinker’s smile with one of my own, I elbowed him back.
“Thanks,” I said. “Although I didn’t actually do very much. Gus planned most of it himself. Said what he really wanted was to see the rest of us having fun. Although I did pick up the cake earlier today.”
Eli jostled me again, and I nearly fell into Tinker. Asshole.
“I’m getting some water,” I told her. “Do you want anything?”
“I’m good,” she said, raising her beer. Using my shoulder, I shoved Eli as I leaned into the bar, waving down the bartender, Ethan. I didn’t know him very well yet—he was new to the Starkwood—but he’d been doing an okay job so far.
“Hey! Can I get some water?”
He nodded, and I turned around again, catching Eli with my shoulder another time. He looked at me, then leaned in toward my ear.
“You trying to cock-block me?” he asked, jerking his head toward McKayla.
“Oh, I didn’t even notice you sitting there, Eli,” I said brightly. “And McKayla’s with you! Hi, McKayla!”
I gave her a little finger wave, and she finger-waved back, giggling. Then she stopped waving, and her hand dropped down to his stomach.
My eyes followed, noting how the faded jeans couldn’t quite hide his package. Easy to see, with his legs spread wide like that. Then her hand slipped lower, sliding down his hip to rest against his inner thigh.
Ewww.
“Got your water, Peaches!” Ethan said, his voice pitched loud enough to carry over the chaotic noise of the party. I turned back to him, thankful for the distraction.
The water tasted good. Almost unnaturally so. Guess I hadn’t realized how thirsty I’d gotten. Enough to chug the whole thing in one gulp.
I set the glass down to discover that Eli had swiveled the stool to face me. McKayla had disappeared. Must be smarter than I gave her credit for…
“Don’t blame me just because she ditched you,” I said. “She probably heard that you’re a murderer. Nobody likes a murderer.”
That’s when I noticed Ethan standing in front of us. I think he’d been reaching for my empty water glass, but now he seemed frozen. Horrified, even. Well, fuck. If he couldn’t roll with a joke like that, he’d never make it at the Starkwood.
“She’s talking about a stuffed animal,” Eli told him. “It was when we were kids. She’s obsessed with it. I’ve told her to seek professional help, but she’s too proud. Sad, really.”
Ethan nodded, although the move was hesitant. Fair enough. Eli was a big guy with a tough reputation. Throw in the fact that he was a Reaper, and I could see why Ethan might be nervous.
“Eli’s right,” I said, catching Ethan’s eye. “I was teasing him about something that happened when we were kids. He’s just a big softie inside. Like a marshmallow, only less flammable.”
I nudged him with my shoulder playfully. He bumped me back—just a little harder—and then I slammed my shoulder into him, all the while holding Ethan’s gaze and smiling.
“So, where the hell is Gus?” Eli asked. “I thought he was supposed to be here by now.”
“Hell if I know,” I said, shrugging. “He’ll get here when he gets here. Think I’m gonna dance some more. If you’re very lucky, I’ll let you dance with me.”
“No dancing. McKayla’s out there, and I’m afraid she’ll jump me or something. I’d rather avoid that, all things considered.”
“I thought you were into her,” I said, thinking about her hand on his thigh. That might’ve been her idea, but he hadn’t seemed unhappy about the situation. “You said I was cock-blocking.”
“That was before I smelled her breath,” he said, winking at me. “Or maybe I just wanted to piss you off. Either way, she’s not my type.”
“And what would your type be?” I asked, curious. He’d always fucked around, but as far as I knew, he’d never had a serious girlfriend.
“I like ‘em with a little more spirit,” he said, catching and holding my eye. “McKayla’d be fun for about ten minutes. Then I’d get bored.”
“Really?” I asked, raising a brow. “Because I heard that you only need five. Seven, max.”
He laughed, and I caught Ethan eyeing us again. I leaned into Eli.
“I’m not so sure about the new bartender,” I said, pitching my tone low. “Seems like he spooks easily. Might not be tough enough for a place like this…”
“He wants to fuck you. And he doesn’t like me because he knows he doesn’t have a chance while I’m around.”
Now I laughed. “Yeah, right. Like I’d ever fuck you.”
“You’d fuck me before you fucked him,” he said, his voice dry. I had to agree. Ethan was skinny. Stringy, almost. Bad skin, and hair that never looked particularly clean.
“You won’t think I’m hitting on you if I agree, will you?”
“Nope. I can always tell when you’re hitting me because it hurts, and then I wake up with bruises the next day. Let’s go shoot darts.”
Catching my hand, Eli pushed off the stool and pulled me through the crowd toward the back hallway. Gus’s office was on the right. The storeroom was to the left.
I’d always seen it as a magical wonderland of pretty bottles and kegs to climb on, complete with a fort we’d built out of liquor boxes. The finishing touch had been a dart board that we’d stolen from the main bar. Most of the time, we’d been pretty good about throwing the darts at the target instead of at each other.
Well, maybe not most of the time, but at least half…
Astoundingly, neither of us had ever gotten hurt during those epic battles for storeroom supremacy. Okay, so I’d stabbed him in the butt once. But it’d been an accident. Mostly.
Eli pulled a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocked the door. I reached for the light switch. He caught my hand.
“No, let’s play in the dark. Like when we were kids.”
“I’d sort of forgotten about that,” I whispered, stepping into the room. We’d always kept the lights off. It made it harder for the adults to track us.
Now, I was one of those adults, and the storeroom had long since lost its magic. The bottles weren’t treasures, and our fort had been broken down and recycled. But I knew for a fact that the dart board and darts were still here. So was the old wingback chair where I’d sat and read so many books. As my eyes adjusted, I saw the faint light shining through the two high-set windows on the far side of the room.
I couldn’t remember the last time we’d actually played here. It’d been a long time. The darts and the board were still here, though.
Eli reached to the top of the shelf and grabbed an old shoe box. He opened it and pulled out a dart, handing it to me.
“What are we playing for?” I asked, stepping up to the silver duct tape that marked our line on the floor. Raising my hand, I sighted carefully on the bullseye. This was going to be a tough game, I realized. There was just enough light to see the target clearly, but not quite enough to see it well…
Oh. And I was still fairly drunk.
That probably wasn’t going to help.
Eli hadn’t answered the question, so I decided to ignore him and focus on my game instead. I took a deep breath, pulled back my hand just the slightest, and—
“How about a kiss?” he asked, his voice loud in my ear. The dart flew off to the left, bouncing off the concrete wall next to the target with a clang.
Sabotaging motherfucker.
“That one shouldn’t count,” I protested.
“Of course, it counts,” Eli said. He used one of his big arms to sweep me to the side. Now, it was his turn to step up to the line.
“You know the rules,” he said, radiating smugness.
“The only rule is that we don’t tell on each other,” I said, trying to glare at him. Hard to glare when all you wanted to do was laugh, though. “Everything else is fair game.”
“There’s your answer,” he replied, shooting me a grin. He raised his hand to throw. On a wild impulse, I jumped at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and smashing my mouth into his.
Eli swayed, dropping the dart as he wrapped his arms around me. I ducked down, sliding out from under him, laughing. I staggered backward, nearly tripping over the chair in the process.
“What the fuck, Peaches?”
This struck me as incredibly funny, which made me laugh even harder. So hard that I couldn’t breathe, let alone speak.
“I wish… I wish you could see the look…on your face,” I finally managed to gasp out, although it took a few tries. “And my dart is closer to the target than yours is. That means I’m first.”
“Never gonna happen,” he said, and while the words were angry, his tone was teasing. Eli was having a good time, I realized. Both of us were. “That doesn’t count as a throw. Nice try, but your timing was off.”
I raised a finger, wagging it at him while making little tch-tch-tch noises. “The dart was in your hand. You raised your hand to throw, and then you released the dart into the air. That’s a throw.”
“No,” he said. “You attacked me. Without provocation, I might add—” I snorted. “I dropped the dart as a direct result of that attack. That’s a foul. Doesn’t count.”
“Only if you’re following some set of rules,” I pointed out. “I’d like to remind you that our only rule is that we don’t tell on each other. Here’s the good news, I wasn’t planning to tell everyone about your shitty throw. But it definitely counts.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Okay. You can go first.”
I grabbed another dart, then stepped back to the line. Obviously, Eli was planning retaliation. I tried to watch him, but he moved behind me.
The back of my neck prickled like I was being stalked by a tiger.
“Don’t worry,” he said as I tried to aim.
“About you? Never.”
Except I was worried. Because I could feel him back there. Lurking. Waiting to pounce. Just focus on the target. He’s playing mind games with you.
Taking a deep breath, I tried to concentrate. The bass from the party was a dim thump in the distance. Occasionally, a laugh or a shout could be heard.
The only thing I couldn’t hear was Eli. Those big feet of his were like skis. No way could he move without making some noise, right? Except Eli was very sneaky…
Spinning around, I found him leaning against one of the shelves, a good six feet away. This time, he wagged his finger at me.
“Paranoia is a sign of a guilty conscience,” he said, offering a shit-eating grin. I took a minute to consider throwing the dart at him. It’d be satisfying, no question. But he was trying to get a rise out of me. I didn’t want to reward that kind of behavior.
I turned toward the board again, raised my hand, and then screamed as Eli’s arms came around me from behind. One landed near my waist while the other crossed my chest, immobilizing my arms in the process.
“Bastard!” I shrieked, trying to sound outraged. But he’d lifted me, and now we were spinning around. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had spun me around like that. I’d forgotten how much fun it was.
It felt like an hour but was probably only a minute or so before he stumbled. We lurched backward and almost crashed into the shelf. Somehow, he managed to fall back into the chair. I landed on top of him, laughing so hard that my ribs hurt.
Or maybe that was just from his arms squeezing me.
Eli’s grip loosened, his hands dropping to rest loosely on my waist. I relaxed into his bulk, strangely comfortable.
“Your hair is smothering me,” he said, catching my wrists and putting them together so he could hold them in one hand. Then he reached up and caught my hair, trying to finger-comb it to the side.
“Sorry,” I told him, attempting to lean forward. He let go for an instant. Then his hands were under my armpits as he lifted me like a rag doll, draping me across his lap. His left arm wound around my back. My legs draped over the arm of the old chair as his right hand reached up and slid into my hair.
He pulled my mouth to his, and a world of sensation exploded through me.
I’d thought about kissing Eli in the past. The man was sexy as hell—you’d have to be blind not to notice. Blind, deaf, and without a sense of smell, more accurately. Every time I’d imagined those kisses, they’d been terrifying because Eli was intense. He never did anything halfway, and I suspected his kisses would overwhelm me.
Instead, his lips somehow managed to be soft while still demanding enough to leave no question as to who was in charge in the moment. His tongue slid into my mouth before I even fully realized what was happening. I was too busy squirming, aching, almost desperate from the sudden surge of need.
Feeling his tongue plunge deep, all I could think about was that I needed more of him inside of me. For once, I didn’t feel like I had to fight or question what was happening. I just opened to him, drawing him in, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer.
His head slanted, kissing harder now. I felt something hard under my butt and knew it had to be him. I shimmied my hips, savoring the way it made him shudder. He pulled away for an instant, and our eyes met.
“Jesus, but that feels good,” he said in a strained voice.
“Let’s not drag Jesus into this, okay?” I whispered, then lifted my head, trying to catch his lips again. I didn’t even notice that he’d dropped his hand to my waist until he tugged my shirt free from my jeans. I expected him to go for my breasts. Instead, he found the back of my pants, sliding his hand under the waistband and plunging deep to grab the cheek of my ass with big fingers.
He stilled, studying my face.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about doing this,” he said. He lowered his mouth for another kiss, brushing his lips across mine. It was lovely, but I needed more. He was kissing me like we were making love.
I wanted him to fuck my mouth.
Catching his bottom lip with my teeth, I bit down. Not hard enough to break the skin, but close. He groaned, and his hand clenched on my ass. Then he grabbed my hair with his free hand, twisting it around his fingers before jerking my head to him, holding me still.
My entire body clenched, liquid and hot and ready to take him.
If he can do this with one little kiss, what else can he do?
I clenched at the thought, spirals of desire zipping along my spine. I had to find a way to straddle him. Rub against him. Fuck him. I ached for it, squirming against the cock prodding my ass, needing more, and needing it now. He groaned, and I couldn’t tell if it was pain or pleasure. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting him inside of me.
“Don’t move,” he muttered, pulling back on my hair for emphasis.
That should’ve pissed me off, yet somehow it just turned me on even more. Swiveling my hips, I tried to grind down on him. His hips bucked up almost instantly, and he moaned.
At least I wasn’t the only one who’d gone into heat out of nowhere.
Nobody could be expected to sit still when they ached like this.
Still holding his mouth with mine, I rolled to my right, directly into his body. My legs swung down, one on either side of his strong thigh. I slid my hips back, experimenting with the new position.
Oh, that was… Really good. Holy-fucking-shit good.
We kissed like that for long seconds, me grinding against his thigh, him holding me by the hair with one hand. The other squeezed my ass, pulling my hips forward into him with every stroke.
It wasn’t enough. I wanted all of him between my legs.
Eli must’ve been feeling the same way because he let go of my hair and pulled his hand out of my jeans. Before I could figure out what he meant to do, he’d wrapped his hands around my thighs from the outside. Then he stood up, lifting me as if I weighed nothing.
I shrieked, wrapping my arms tightly around his neck.
Hitching me upward, he pulled me into his body, sending my legs splaying to either side. I hissed as his cock found just the right place between my legs. Then he sat back on the chair, bringing me with him, and it all made sense.
Now, I straddled him, my legs spread wide, one hanging off each side of the chair, draped over the arms. He caught my hair again. I expected him to give me another of those devastating kisses. Instead, he pulled back, tilting my head to give him better access to my neck.
His other hand slid back down into my jeans. His fingers were still spread wide, but this time, his thumb landed deep, pressing between my cheeks.
I froze, uncertain.
“Nothing happens unless you want it to happen,” he said, kissing my neck gently. He tightened the hand on my ass, pulling my hips into his, slowly guiding me back and forth along the length of his shaft.
Hunger pulsed through me…hunger and the realization that he was serious. Nothing would happen unless I wanted it to.
What we were doing right then was damned good. Near perfect. Wonderful and exactly what I wanted. But it wasn’t enough. Grabbing the sides of the chair for leverage, I swiveled my hips into his, feeling the bulge of his cock in a whole new way.
Bet it would feel even better without all these clothes in the way.
“You say nothing happens unless I want it to happen.” I tugged against the hair he still held. He let it go instantly. I lowered my mouth, giving him another kiss. “Pretty sure I want you to fuck me right here in the Starkwood Saloon storeroom.”
His eyes darkened. I realized his lips looked unusually good. Probably from me biting them…oops.
“You’re drunk,” he said, lifting his hips to give me a better angle.
“I’m not that drunk anymore,” I replied, even if it wasn’t entirely true. I was definitely drunk. And thank God for it. Because there was no other way I’d have relaxed enough to kiss Eli King, let alone have sex with him.
And I really, really wanted to have sex with him.
“You sure?” he asked. He wanted it as badly as I did. I could tell. There was something so surreal and sweet about the thought of Eli caring enough to double-check.
Grinding down, I shuddered, wishing like hell I’d worn a skirt. Then I could just lift up enough for him to undo his fly, and…
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I said, my voice husky.
Both hands caught my ass again, giving me just a hint of warning before he stood up. My legs wrapped tightly around his waist without bothering to ask for permission. I’d always known he was strong, but I hadn’t even begun to imagine all the fun a person could have with that kind of strength.
He could fuck me up against a wall, then carry me into the bedroom over his shoulder, toss me on the bed, then fuck me again.
I’d never been so turned on in my life.
“Where?” he asked, looking around the room. “We could go to the office.”
“People would see us,” I said, laughing. “You can fuck me right here, on the floor. I don’t care.”
“It’s dirty.”
“You are such a girl,” I said, still giggling. “You afraid your knees might get dirty? It may not be the most romantic of spots, but it’s not like we’re dating. And I know you’ve fucked quite a few women in here over the years, so don’t even try to pretend you haven’t. Either you lay me down on that floor and fuck me, or I’m going out to that party and finding someone who will. Your choice.”
Eli’s eyes flashed, and I knew it was all over.
“Let me down,” I told him. He lowered me, sliding me down every inch of his body until my feet found the floor. Instead of stopping, I lowered gracefully into a kneeling position, catching the end of his shirt and lifting it just enough to kiss his stomach.
His entire body shuddered.
My hands found the fly of his jeans. I cupped my fingers around his erection through the fabric, squeezing it tight. Then I looked up at him, offering a teasing smile.
“No fucking way,” he said, shaking his head slowly. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but don’t even consider giving me head. You wrap that mouth around me, and I’ll last all of five minutes.”
“Yeah, I thought ten minutes was a bit optimistic,” I said, blowing him a kiss. Then I reached down and caught my shirt, pulling it up and over my head.
The look on his face when he saw my bra was more than enough to justify what I’d paid for it. But when I reached for my pants, that’s when things got good. He stilled, standing over me almost mesmerized as I slowly popped the button on my fly, then lowered the zipper. The fabric sagged, clinging to my hips. I gave a little shimmy, which was enough to drop them a couple of inches lower…
“Shit,” Eli muttered, ripping open his own jeans. He grabbed his cock, fisting it as I very slowly, very deliberately slid my fingers down the midline of my body.
When I reached my panties, I dipped them under, finding my clit with my middle digit. I gave it a quick rub, my breath catching, and then pushed my hand down farther, my finger sliding through my cleft.
“Nice and wet,” I told him.
Eli shoved down his jeans, then dropped to his knees in front of me. First, he kissed me, cupping the back of my neck with one hand while the other wrapped tightly around my waist. He started lowering me to the floor, then paused.
“Hold on,” he said. Leaning back on his heels, he caught the bottom edge of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Shaking it out flat, he spread it on the floor next to us. “Better. Now lay down.”
I took a second to kiss him one more time, then lowered myself to the shirt. Something felt really bizarre, and I realized that this was the first time I’d ever done anything Eli had asked me to do without fighting with him first.
His hands found my jeans, and I lifted my hips so he could pull them off, along with my underwear. Then they were gone, and he was crawling up and over my body until our eyes met.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” he asked.
“Most guys don’t ask this many questions when a girl tells them to fuck her.”
“Yeah, well those guys probably weren’t raised in a house where they had to worry about finding snakes in their beds.”
The words sounded angry, but the tone was teasing. Resting his weight on his left arm, Eli reached down between us with his right, finding my clit right away. I gasped, and my hips rocked toward him.
The tip of his cock brushed against me.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this,” Eli whispered. My hips curled toward him, and—
The storeroom door flew open, banging into the wall.
“Eli! Where the fuck are you? We got a situation.”
“Don’t you dare answer,” I told him, somehow whispering and shouting at the same time. I twisted my hips up and into him a second time, and his dick slid into me about half an inch. Goddamnit.
“Eli, there’s big fucking trouble. It’s Gus.”
That sounded like Gage. Shit. Normally, he’d just send a prospect if he had a message. There must be something seriously wrong happening with Gus. My stomach gave an anxious little flip.
“What’s wrong with Gus?” I asked, nudging at Eli to let me up. He rolled off me, and I started feeling around for my clothes. Suddenly, the lights came on, blinding me.
“Turn off the fucking light!” Eli shouted.
“Eli? Is that you?”
“Yes, it’s Eli. And Peaches,” I said, trying not to let my tone waver. I pulled on my pants, trying not to think about how many people would figure out that we’d… Eli made a growling noise, and a muscle in his jaw started twitching. “We’ll be out in a minute.”
“Move fast,” Gage said. “It’s serious, Eli. I need your ass at Gus’s house in the next ten minutes. Pipes is waiting in the parking lot. Leave your bike here. I got a feeling we’ll need you on Gus’s before this is over.”
“Fuck!” Eli said, slamming the flat of his palm against the floor.
Someone was feeling grumpy about his blue balls.
“Breaking your hand isn’t going to help Gus.”
“No, but it might protect him,” he said. “Because unless this little emergency of his involves him dying, I’ll be tempted to finish the job. Then I’ll have to deal with the body. That’ll be a real bitch if one of my hands is broken.”
“What a…heartwarming thought.”
“Yeah, I’m all heart.”
“I’m coming with you,” I said. “If he’s dying, I want to say goodbye.”
“Gus is way too mean to die,” Eli told me. “Lots of people have come after him through the years. Note that they’re gone, and he isn’t.”
“I’m serious. I’m coming with you.”
Eli stopped and turned toward me. His hands moved to my shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze as his eyes caught mine. “This situation is club business, Peaches. I can’t bring you with me just because you’re my girlfriend. That’s not how my world works.”
I ignored his use of the word girlfriend and the hope that it gave me. “Sometimes I think your world is bullshit.”
“Yeah, sometimes I think my world is bullshit, too,” he said. “But it’s the only one I got, so I’m gonna make the most of it.”