Shade's Lady
Page 8

 Joanna Wylde

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Twin blondes wearing nothing but tiny jeans shorts stepped up to Shade. One blocked his path, rubbing her hand down his stomach toward the fly of his pants while the other glared at me.
“You said you’d play with us tonight, Shade,” she huffed, boobs jiggling. I stared at them, mesmerized. I mean, they were right there, all naked and—
“Change of plans,” he replied, and you’d never have guessed a gorgeous, half-naked chick was doing everything in her power to grab his cock. His indifference was chilling. She gave him a sexy little pout—a pout so hot that even I was turned on.
Okay, not really, but you get the picture.
I’d have been all over her if I swung that way.
Instead of responding, Shade grabbed my wrist tighter and pulled me across the room, the crowd parting as more than one biker eyed me curiously. I recognized several more faces from the bar, and a few of the girls smiled at me knowingly.
They definitely had the wrong idea about what was happening here, I realized. Shade hadn’t made a secret about his interest in me so I guess it was the logical conclusion, but still…
“Where’s Rebel?” I demanded, but either Shade couldn’t hear me or he was ignoring me. I had a feeling it was the latter.
Not good.
We passed through the room and into a hallway with bathrooms on either side, then out the back door. There was a covered porch back here, too, full of people smoking. Broad steps led down to a courtyard. In the center was a bonfire. Along the right was a concrete block wall with a covered walkway running alongside. Cleverly hidden speakers played the same music as inside.
I’d never really given much thought to what an MC clubhouse would look like, but this definitely didn’t match any of my stereotypes. Under normal circumstances, I’d be full of questions. Tonight, Shade hustled me toward the building on the far side of the courtyard so fast that I could hardly keep up.
This one was long and low and it looked much older. Sort of like a bunkhouse, I decided, with regular windows along the wall. The kind of thing you’d see on a ranch or in a logging camp. The door opened and out stumbled an older man who was clearly drunk, along with a much younger woman who giggled and tugged at her skirt.
Oh, hell no.
This was a bad idea. A very bad idea. I didn’t know what was in there for sure, but I’d bet good money it wasn’t Rebel with a birthday cake and a bow around his neck.
“I want to go home,” I said, jerking back against Shade, trying to stop him. He spun on me, his face dark and intense.
“We’ll talk inside,” he snarled, then started forward again.
Shit shit shit!
My bunkhouse prediction was right—we passed through the building and turned left, heading down a long hallway with doors on either side at regular intervals. Some were open. I smelled pot in the air. As we walked past one door, I glanced in to find a man I’d seen at the Pit lying back on the bed, smoking a blunt while a blond head bobbed in his lap.
I had no place in my head to store this.
Shade opened a door and pushed me through roughly. I caught a glimpse of a bed before I stumbled. He caught me, kicking the door shut even as he slammed my body against it, covering it with his.
His mouth slanted over mine in the most brutal kiss I’d ever experienced, hands reaching down to grab my thighs, hoisting them up to wrap my legs around his waist.
 
 
Chapter Four
 
My world exploded in a bizarre mix of outrage, fear, confusion and desire. Shade’s tongue demanded access to my mouth and I felt his dick between my legs, hard and ready to go. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to do something.
Anything.
My mouth opened to tell him to fuck off and Shade took advantage, thrusting his tongue deep inside. My hands flew up to his hair, my fingers digging deep as I jerked his head back as hard as I could. There was a secret, fucked-up part of me that was turned on by his raw sexuality but I was not down with this.
Shade kissed me for a few seconds longer. He could take this as far as he wanted, I realized—no one in this building would lift a finger to stop him.
Holy.
Fucking.
Shit.
I exploded into action, bucking hard as I ripped at his hair. Shade didn’t even notice. For an instant, I thought he would go through with it. Then he dropped me, turning away and stalking across the room, punching the wall in sudden fury. Plaster cracked, and he gave a low groan—pain? Frustration? I couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it didn’t bode well for Yours Truly. I scrambled to stand as he leaned forward against the shattered wall, then punched it again. Sweet baby Jesus. The situation was falling apart fast.
I reached for the doorknob.
“Do not open that door,” he snarled, and I jumped away like a kid caught trying to steal a cookie. Did the guy have eyes in the back of his head? Shade took a deep, slow breath, then turned back to me, his expression full of dark fire.
“What the fuck’s your game?”
“Excuse me?” I replied, astounded.
“Excuse me?” he mocked, his lip curling. “Where the fuck do you think you are, Mandy? This isn’t the bar and you aren’t gonna get a better tip just ’cause you got a cute ass. You don’t fuckin’ tease a man like me, and you sure as fuck don’t do it in my own Goddamned clubhouse!”
Shade’s voice rose as he stalked toward me, all lean strength and grace. Pure predator. I froze, trying to figure out my next move as his words slowly sunk in.
“Wait,” I said, raising a hand. He glared at it, and I dropped it back down again, wringing my fingers together nervously. “What are you talking about?”
“You came here of your own free will,” Shade snapped. “Don’t play stupid.”
“I came here to drive Rebel’s truck back home for him,” I replied, more confused by the minute. “Then you brought me here and dragged me inside. How the hell is that teasing? You scare the shit out of me—I don’t even like serving you drinks at the Pit, let alone visiting your stupid clubhouse!”
My voice had grown shrill, the last few words almost a scream.
Shade stilled.
“What did Rebel tell you?” he asked, his voice going so cold that it was almost scarier than when he’d been yelling. Oh my God, he was going to murder me and then my sister wouldn’t have anyone to help with the kids and they’d bury me in an unmarked grave and squirrels would eat my eyeballs and—