Heart Ties (Club Ties Book 2) (14 page)

“But your rib,” she protested as he worked open her jeans and thrust a hand into her panties. Scorching wet heat met his fingers, and his balls clenched.

“Who needs all twenty-four ribs?” He curled his fingers over her clit, and she bucked. In seconds their jeans were around their feet. She kicked hers off as Drake slid a condom in place with one stroke.

A pink glow on her cheeks and the swollen look of her lips almost undid him. He tensed his jaw, battling his rising excitement. He damn well wanted that bed back, but he was going to make this good.

He clutched her wrists and pinned them to the wall, high above her head. “Put your thigh up around my hip.”

She did, and he filled her in a single thrust. He sank balls-deep into her insane heat, mind spinning. She opened her mouth, feeding him throaty noises.

Rocking into her, he forgot about the ache in his jaw or the rib that actually might be cracked. He sank into her sweet, tight body and glutted himself on the flavor of her lips. Releasing one of her hands, he found her ripe nipple and twisted it until she writhed.

He continued a path down over taut belly to the triangle of curls that was quickly becoming his new addiction. He found her hard pearl with a forefinger, and she began to pulsate.

“Damn, Princess.” He sagged at the knees to drive upward, burying himself so deep he had no idea there was a separation between them. Her pussy clamped down hard, milking his shaft with her orgasm, and he couldn’t hold back another second.

With a rough groan he came. Pleasure rushed his body. He gyrated his hips to extend their pleasure and he couldn’t think past the ecstasy or his own pulse. When the final spurt left him, he sagged against the wall, Delta’s body cradled around him. He released her hand above her head and she immediately wrapped her arm around him.

He tipped his forehead against hers and gave her clit one final stroke. She convulsed in his arms, and they both laughed. Up close her eyes were much more than simple blue. Dark flecks surrounded the pupils, along with glints of gray.

The strangeness of the situation wasn’t lost on him. He was surrounded by alcohol and all he could think of was his thirst for this woman.

Drake paced the storeroom, a cell phone locked to his ear. His speech came at regular intervals. It didn’t take Delta long to figure out he spoke to Jamison.

“No, don’t come. I handled it.

“I don’t know who the fuck the guy is, but I’m going to find out.

“He left the cash on the table without looking back. No word yet from Ace?

“Fuck, that’s what I figured. This is deeper than we want to be, but now we can’t just let this guy walk. We need to know who he is and where that money is coming from.

“He might be the printer. My guess is there are deeper connections, though.

“Yeah, we’re getting the hell out of here now.

“East. Ex-Marine with the Sons. Burns is in charge with Meat as back-up. You can’t spare anyone, so don’t worry about it. They’ve got it covered.”

Delta inspected her fingernails. One edge was ragged, and she brought it to her lips to gnaw at it.

Whatever had gone down in that back room worried Drake. He might have his mask in place and the set of his shoulders was iron-like. But she was beginning to read his body language. The cock of his brow, a tick in his jaw, and the way he gripped the phone spoke of his tension.

He ended the call and stabbed some buttons. Then he tossed the phone in the trash. For two heartbeats, they stared at each other.

“I can find out who the guy with the money is.”

If she could have sucked those words back inside, she would have. She braced herself, ready to be slapped for eavesdropping or worse for speaking at all.

Slowly she got off the stool and pressed her back to the wall in the same spot he’d just given her mind-blowing pleasure. Drake’s eyes were dark as he stalked her. She pressed her trembling hands behind her back and leaned on them.

“You won’t be involved at all, Princess.”

The old Delta would have hung her head and agreed, but the sight of his cut brow loosened her tongue. “This guy has never seen me. I go in, cozy up to him, and get some answers.” What was she doing? Inciting fury from the only man who’d never harmed her was a damn idiotic move.

He eyed her, face unreadable. “You’ll stay out of it. It’s club business.”

“Guys like me.”

The muscle in his jaw fluttered faster. “All the more reason for you to stay clear.”

“Drake, you need answers and I can get them.”

He crowded against her, big form swallowing her. She could barely think with his scent flooding her brain—man and hormones. She pulled her hands from behind her and pressed them against his cut, over his Hell’s Sons patch.

How she got the nerve to keep talking was beyond her. “All I do is make myself look pretty and go sit down with the man. It’s a gambling operation going on back there?”

If he was surprised by her knowledge, he didn’t show it.

She rambled on. “Give me an hour with him, and I’ll have all the answers you need. Is he using printed money?”

His eyelid twitched a warning, which she didn’t heed. She slid her hands up his chest to cup his jaw gently. “What choice do you have? He isn’t going to give you answers, especially after you got physical.”

“How do you know I got physical?”

“Because you wouldn’t have let him walk away without equal measure.” She skimmed her fingers over the swollen edge of his jaw.

He hardened his lips. “I won’t put you in there. It’s dangerous, Delta.”

“I know danger.” She dropped her gaze to his lips. How could they look so hard and feel so perfect? She wet hers, and he groaned.

Her gaze flashed to his. The dark, intense look melted her panties.

“You can give me those fluttering eyelashes all you want, Princess. The answer is no. The Sons don’t put women in harm’s way, especially for our own ends.”

“But Ever…” She’d been sent into the Raiders’ midst to get information on the drugs they were dealing.

Drake made a sharp movement, and she jerked.

He went still, and a pounding began in her ears.

“Delta,” he said slowly, “I will never hurt you.” Each enunciated word drilled into the armor she hadn’t known she’d thrown up until it crumbled. With a soft noise, he gathered her to his chest and buried his nose in her hair.

The rushing in her ears diminished and she relaxed against him.

“I don’t know what bad shit they did to you, but it ends in that club. We don’t treat our women that way. Jamison was out of his mind when he discovered Ever was with the Raiders. That wasn’t us—it was Strother.” The name twisted off his lips.

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s a fucking asshole whose only thought is for himself. He’s on his way out if Jamison has anything to do with it, and he does. Now that you’ve distracted me into saying too much, the answer is still no. You will not go into that gambling operation to find out where this guy’s getting the printed money.”

She smiled as he purposely revealed all to her. “So I guessed right.”

“You’re too damn observant for your own good. And the answer is no.”

“I’ll enter first and keep the guy distracted. When you come in, he won’t notice you.”

Drake’s brows shot up. “Like hell you’ll be distracting him that much.”

She pulled his head down and washed her tongue over his lower lip. With a growl, he sank into the trap, kissing until she was breathless. When he withdrew, she said, “I distract
you
that much.”

“But you will not be distracting other men.”

His no-argument tone gave her heart a little flip. It was easy to believe he cared enough to be so possessive of her, but the whole thing was an illusion. His chivalry had forced him to help her escape the Raiders, but he wouldn’t be keeping her forever.

She had no clue what would happen to her after things settled—if they ever did—but in the meantime, she would try to help the man who’d done much for her.

“I’ll need to go shopping again. I need a dress. Heels.”

If he clenched his jaw any tighter, he’d break a tooth. “Absolutely not.”

“You don’t want to see me in heels?” She toyed with the hair at his nape.

“I’d love to see you in heels and maybe some black leather fuck-me boots. Those girly little shoes you’re wearing aren’t good for riding anyhow.”

“Good. Let’s go.” She took his hand off her waist and tugged.

He didn’t move a stubborn-ass muscle. “I’ll get you all the fucking shoes you can carry, but Delta, you are not kissing up to this guy.”

She bowed her head. “At least I had a purpose in the Raiders’ MC.”

“What are you talking about?” His tone was sharp.

She didn’t look up. “The reason I know how I affect men is because that’s all I was to them. I was hoping you might see me differently. If I could help you…”

He huffed out a breath, and she looked up just as he shook his head. Shook it again.

She dropped her gaze.

“Goddammit, woman.” He grabbed her and shoved her against the wall, absorbing the shock with his hands behind her. He loomed over her, raising a quiver of need.

She squeezed her thighs together.

“All right. We’ll doll you up and you can do this thing. But not without a weapon on you, so you’d better buy a goddamn dress with a pocket.”

She threw her arms around his neck and latched onto his lower lip with her teeth. “I won’t let you down.”

His only answer was the ridge of flesh swelling against her belly.

•●•

Jesus, she looked like sex on heels. Slinky black dress, her hair a silken sheet down her spine, and heels that emphasized the lines of her calves. Drake wanted to drag his tongue along that muscle.

“There can’t be a pocket in that thing. There’s no room.”

“I couldn’t find a dress with a pocket. Do you think these are full enough to conceal a weapon?” She took his hand and settled it on her breast, eyes shining.

He bit off a growl. Her breasts spilled from the dress so much he doubted a man would be looking at the fabric even if there was a perfect outline of a gun. Fuck, what had Drake been thinking to agree to this? She was vulnerable. Against the man who punched like a boxer, she would be killed.

He slid a tiny but accurate pistol into her bodice. She covered his hand and squeezed. “Trust me.”

Yes, she was good at persuasion. Those fucking wide eyes and her drive to prove herself. If she was nothing to the Raiders, he’d make her realize her worth to him.

Though he was a fucking idiot for giving in.

He pulled her close and pressed his lips to her ear. “Meat and Burns are already inside. Also, the dealer is packing enough heat to put down a rhinoceros. They’ll keep you safe, and if I hear even a grunt, I’m coming through that fucking door.”

He jabbed a finger at it.

She pulled free of his grasp and wiggled her little ass all the way to the door. She knocked once, and someone admitted her to the back room. As she disappeared on teetering heels, Drake scrubbed his hand over his face.

He hadn’t been this nervous since his first mission. Undercover, strapped with enough explosive to blow the country off the map. He’d used his wits before his bombs, though, and gotten what he wanted. The bombs were a backup.

Five minutes passed. Ten ticked more slowly. Fifteen fucking dragged. He paced in front of the door, ignoring the looks from his men.

“Hey, boss, we’re getting some ‘change’ soon.”

He looked up, trying to figure out what the hell was being said. His mind was deep in Delta. His mind cleared. Alcohol was arriving. “When?”

“Jamison said by noon.”

Fucking broad daylight. They performed most of their illegal operations without the cover of darkness. Prescription drugs dropped off in plain boxes to clinics and money changed hands through simple white envelopes. A delivery truck pulled up to the back of the bars and men wheeled crates of alcohol in as if everything was on the up-and-up.

And men gambled with counterfeit money in the backroom.

He rasped his knuckles over his unshaven jaw. Yesterday he’d taken Delta shopping as promised and bought the dress, heels, and those fuck-me boots. Then he’d made her wrap them around his ears while pounding into her in a cheap motel outside town.