Brian took a deep breath. “I hope you’re right. God, I can’t get that ring on her finger fast enough. Okay, Jace, go. Sed’s probably broken the news to her by now. I need multiple obstacles in her path, and I don’t think she’d actually hit you. She thinks you’re the sweet one.” Brian almost choked on his laugh.
Jace had never given Myrna a reason to think otherwise. “Everything will be okay. Just grovel.”
“Grovel?” Brian looked reflective for a moment, and then nodded. “Can do.”
Jace climbed the steps to find Myrna, still wearing her business suit and looking all prim and proper, when she was decidedly not prim and proper by any stretch of the imagination, fussing over the cut near Eric’s temple. Eric ate up every minute of her concern. He had a little, make that big, crush on Brian’s woman, so any attention she paid him made him giddy and stupid. Trey was searching the freezer for ice. Sed stood next to the dining table looking like he’d robbed a bank.
It didn’t even take two minutes for Myrna to put Brian in his place. She was conscious enough of the lack of privacy to take their argument to the bedroom at the back of the bus, but even with the door closed, Jace could hear Brian’s groveling. He was doing a fine job by Jace’s estimation, though Myrna still didn’t sound too forgiving about her fiancé’s matching black eyes.
Jace rubbed his swollen knuckles, wondering how he was going to play the next night. He couldn’t let himself get into any more fights. If he hurt his hands, Sinners would undoubtedly get rid of him. He didn’t want to give them a reason to fire him from the band. Not after he’d worked so hard to become a part of it.
Sed retrieved a bottle of aspirin from the bathroom and grinned as he handed it to Trey. He nodded toward the thin bedroom door. “I guess they made up.”
No more sounds of Brian groveling. Just the unmistakable cries of ecstasy that Myrna produced on a very regular basis.
Trey laughed. “Who can stay mad at Brian?” He swallowed several pills and passed the bottle to Eric.
“I’m glad they made up,” Eric said, holding a bloody dish towel to his temple. “I’d have felt terrible if she called the wedding off.”
“You should feel terrible,” Jace said, staring at the floor, as he knew his gaze would hold a challenge. Through all the lessons his father tried to teach him, keeping defiance out of his gaze had never stuck. “You started the whole thing.”
“Well, I didn’t ask for your help, little man, now did I?” Eric said.
Nope, he hadn’t. Jace should have stayed out of it and let those bouncers rearrange Eric’s face.
Jace pursed his lips and nodded slightly. He left the bus without a word, not in the mood for another confrontation. Not with Eric. The man who had no idea how much of a positive impact he’d had on Jace’s life. If he’d thought of Eric as anything less than his hero, he would have punched him in the face years ago.
Jace climbed on his Harley, secured his helmet, and started the bike. The engine roared to life beneath him. The freedom the sound represented instantly brought him peace of mind. He headed off, not really knowing where he was going, but his thoughts had settled on a black-haired beauty with a whip. That woman was exactly what he needed.
He wondered if she was still at the club. He needed to pick up that card she’d promised him and make an appointment for her perfect abuse.
Immediately.
Chapter 2
Jace pulled into the alley alongside the strip club. He shouldn’t even be there. While he’d always been good at remaining unnoticed, he knew he had a distinctive appearance, and bouncers didn’t take kindly to getting their asses kicked. If they caught sight of him, he’d probably spend the night in jail. Or worse, the hospital. Participating in a fight was one thing, being jumped by a group of musclemen, another thing entirely. But he was willing to risk it to see her again. Her. Whoever she was. Hell, he didn’t even know her name.
Jace turned off the Harley’s ignition, shifted the bike backward to engage the kickstand, and climbed off. Leaning against the side of the seat with his helmet on, he waited outside the back exit for his beautiful demon in black leather to emerge. He hoped he hadn’t missed her. He needed her. In a bad way. He’d wait all night if he had to. It wasn’t as if he had anywhere else to be.
Over the next half hour, several people, mostly other dancers, exited the club through the back door. Jace earned a few curious glances, but no one questioned his motives.
When she finally emerged, his breath caught. She wore a long, black fur coat over her leather bustier, black satin panties, and thigh-high boots. Jace suppressed a shudder of primal longing. She paused at the bottom of the steps and reached into her pocket, searching for something. A cigarette, perhaps?
Jace patted his pockets looking for a lighter, but she pulled out a pack of gum and popped a piece in her mouth. She turned her head in his direction.
Noticed him.
His c**k stirred with excitement. Anticipation. Every inch of his skin tingled with longing.
Her full, red lips curled into a sexy smile.
Did she recognize him? He didn’t know how. He still wore his helmet with its black face shield down. Maybe she smiled like that at every guy. He wasn’t sure why that thought bothered him. He just wanted to buy her services for a few hours, not make her a permanent fixture in his life. But as fixtures went, she was in a class all her own. Dear God, the woman was positively luscious.
She walked toward him, moving gracefully, like a prowling cat. The closer she got, the harder his heart thudded and the faster it raced. Jace stood straight, stepping away from the bike.
She stopped directly in front of him. He could feel her body heat through his clothes. It caressed his skin. Heightened his awareness of her.
He leaned toward her. Wanting to touch her. Taste her. Experience everything she was.
But mostly, he wanted her to beat the ever-loving shit out of him.
“I thought you might show up,” she murmured. “I still owe you a dance.”
In her three-inch, thigh-high boots, she stood a couple inches taller than him. Without them, he probably had an inch on her. Her height didn’t bother him. Looking up at her excited him. Her long white neck excited him. The sharp angle of her jaw. Smooth cheek. Full eyelashes. Thick, black bangs. The musky scent of her perfume mingled with leather and spearmint gum. The soft, husky sound of her voice. Everything about her excited him. He needed her. Now. It took every shred of his willpower not to drag her body against his.
Jace had never given Myrna a reason to think otherwise. “Everything will be okay. Just grovel.”
“Grovel?” Brian looked reflective for a moment, and then nodded. “Can do.”
Jace climbed the steps to find Myrna, still wearing her business suit and looking all prim and proper, when she was decidedly not prim and proper by any stretch of the imagination, fussing over the cut near Eric’s temple. Eric ate up every minute of her concern. He had a little, make that big, crush on Brian’s woman, so any attention she paid him made him giddy and stupid. Trey was searching the freezer for ice. Sed stood next to the dining table looking like he’d robbed a bank.
It didn’t even take two minutes for Myrna to put Brian in his place. She was conscious enough of the lack of privacy to take their argument to the bedroom at the back of the bus, but even with the door closed, Jace could hear Brian’s groveling. He was doing a fine job by Jace’s estimation, though Myrna still didn’t sound too forgiving about her fiancé’s matching black eyes.
Jace rubbed his swollen knuckles, wondering how he was going to play the next night. He couldn’t let himself get into any more fights. If he hurt his hands, Sinners would undoubtedly get rid of him. He didn’t want to give them a reason to fire him from the band. Not after he’d worked so hard to become a part of it.
Sed retrieved a bottle of aspirin from the bathroom and grinned as he handed it to Trey. He nodded toward the thin bedroom door. “I guess they made up.”
No more sounds of Brian groveling. Just the unmistakable cries of ecstasy that Myrna produced on a very regular basis.
Trey laughed. “Who can stay mad at Brian?” He swallowed several pills and passed the bottle to Eric.
“I’m glad they made up,” Eric said, holding a bloody dish towel to his temple. “I’d have felt terrible if she called the wedding off.”
“You should feel terrible,” Jace said, staring at the floor, as he knew his gaze would hold a challenge. Through all the lessons his father tried to teach him, keeping defiance out of his gaze had never stuck. “You started the whole thing.”
“Well, I didn’t ask for your help, little man, now did I?” Eric said.
Nope, he hadn’t. Jace should have stayed out of it and let those bouncers rearrange Eric’s face.
Jace pursed his lips and nodded slightly. He left the bus without a word, not in the mood for another confrontation. Not with Eric. The man who had no idea how much of a positive impact he’d had on Jace’s life. If he’d thought of Eric as anything less than his hero, he would have punched him in the face years ago.
Jace climbed on his Harley, secured his helmet, and started the bike. The engine roared to life beneath him. The freedom the sound represented instantly brought him peace of mind. He headed off, not really knowing where he was going, but his thoughts had settled on a black-haired beauty with a whip. That woman was exactly what he needed.
He wondered if she was still at the club. He needed to pick up that card she’d promised him and make an appointment for her perfect abuse.
Immediately.
Chapter 2
Jace pulled into the alley alongside the strip club. He shouldn’t even be there. While he’d always been good at remaining unnoticed, he knew he had a distinctive appearance, and bouncers didn’t take kindly to getting their asses kicked. If they caught sight of him, he’d probably spend the night in jail. Or worse, the hospital. Participating in a fight was one thing, being jumped by a group of musclemen, another thing entirely. But he was willing to risk it to see her again. Her. Whoever she was. Hell, he didn’t even know her name.
Jace turned off the Harley’s ignition, shifted the bike backward to engage the kickstand, and climbed off. Leaning against the side of the seat with his helmet on, he waited outside the back exit for his beautiful demon in black leather to emerge. He hoped he hadn’t missed her. He needed her. In a bad way. He’d wait all night if he had to. It wasn’t as if he had anywhere else to be.
Over the next half hour, several people, mostly other dancers, exited the club through the back door. Jace earned a few curious glances, but no one questioned his motives.
When she finally emerged, his breath caught. She wore a long, black fur coat over her leather bustier, black satin panties, and thigh-high boots. Jace suppressed a shudder of primal longing. She paused at the bottom of the steps and reached into her pocket, searching for something. A cigarette, perhaps?
Jace patted his pockets looking for a lighter, but she pulled out a pack of gum and popped a piece in her mouth. She turned her head in his direction.
Noticed him.
His c**k stirred with excitement. Anticipation. Every inch of his skin tingled with longing.
Her full, red lips curled into a sexy smile.
Did she recognize him? He didn’t know how. He still wore his helmet with its black face shield down. Maybe she smiled like that at every guy. He wasn’t sure why that thought bothered him. He just wanted to buy her services for a few hours, not make her a permanent fixture in his life. But as fixtures went, she was in a class all her own. Dear God, the woman was positively luscious.
She walked toward him, moving gracefully, like a prowling cat. The closer she got, the harder his heart thudded and the faster it raced. Jace stood straight, stepping away from the bike.
She stopped directly in front of him. He could feel her body heat through his clothes. It caressed his skin. Heightened his awareness of her.
He leaned toward her. Wanting to touch her. Taste her. Experience everything she was.
But mostly, he wanted her to beat the ever-loving shit out of him.
“I thought you might show up,” she murmured. “I still owe you a dance.”
In her three-inch, thigh-high boots, she stood a couple inches taller than him. Without them, he probably had an inch on her. Her height didn’t bother him. Looking up at her excited him. Her long white neck excited him. The sharp angle of her jaw. Smooth cheek. Full eyelashes. Thick, black bangs. The musky scent of her perfume mingled with leather and spearmint gum. The soft, husky sound of her voice. Everything about her excited him. He needed her. Now. It took every shred of his willpower not to drag her body against his.
