Someone screamed. Probably me. I waited for the pain of Nate’s bullet to hit, but felt nothing other than the welcome pressure of Spade’s body. Tucked into the safety he provided, I whispered, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. So are you. I got you, babe.” His warm breath tickled my cheek as his dark, deep, slightly accented voice made me all too aware of the length of him growing against my stomach. Despite the seriousness of the situation, Spade was getting hard. That knowledge, coupled with the masculine scent of leather and sandalwood, and the fact that he’d literally risked his life to keep me safe, heated my blood and made all my girly parts tingle.
“That’s right, motherfucker, we are not friends,” Wasp growled. “You hurt Carly. You took away two people she loved, and you scared the shit out of her. I promise you, she will never know that kind of fear again. Trent will never have another nightmare, because this ends today.”
Nate’s response was garbled.
Spade lifted himself off me and stood, offering me his hand. As he hefted me to my feet, I took in the scene. Nate was bleeding out on the carpet at the foot of my bed with two gunshot wounds in his chest.
“He didn’t shoot,” I observed aloud.
Wasp nodded. “He tried. I’m faster.”
“But we want him to shoot.”
Wasp’s eyebrows shot up as his gaze met mine. “That crazy motherfucker should have never even gotten his hands on a gun. Now he’ll never shoot anyone again.”
I shook my head. My mind was spinning, but I couldn’t seem to get the right words out.
Spade squeezed my hand, drawing my attention to the fact that we were still connected. “What do you mean, Jessica?”
Sirens screamed in the background, closing in on us. We didn’t have much time. “The cops. You should fire off a shot with his gun. Erase any doubt that we were in danger. Make it look like he shot first. Or at the same time.”
Wasp’s eyes widened.
“Smart thinking,” Spade said, squeezing my hand again.
Havoc grabbed a shirt off the top of my dresser and wrapped it around his right hand.
“You have to use his hand to shoot for the residue…”
Havoc cracked a smile at me. “Yeah, I’m not new to this shit. I know what I need to do. Spade, take Jessica into the living room. Wasp and I will handle this.”
Spade tugged me down the hall. “Come with me, beautiful.”
Beautiful? I’d been called a lot of things in my life, but only my family ever called me beautiful. I wondered if he was just trying to keep me calm after what had happened, but the bulge in his jeans said differently. Regardless, I was distracted. A man had been shot and killed in my bedroom, and all I could think about was the way Spade’s lips puckered when he said “beautiful.”
Then the third shot fired, bringing me back to reality.
Spade
AS SOON AS her bedroom door opened, Jessica drew my attention. Wearing a fitted blazer, slacks, dark-framed glasses, high heels, and with her hair pulled up into a business bun, she checked off all the boxes of every sexy nerd fantasy I’d ever had. She looked like the kind of woman who’d fit in well in the boardroom ormybedroom, and just the first eyeful of her provided me with enough spank bank to last months.
Then I saw the gun pressed against her side.
Call me old-fashioned, or chauvinistic, or whatever, but nothing made my blood boil like seeing a woman in danger. Especially when a man was the cause. Getting her out of the line of fire became my priority. Watching her absorb and follow my cues told me she was smart and observant. Most broads would lose their shit at the sight of some crazy motherfucker with a gun, but she was cool as a cucumber as she inched toward the door, careful not to draw his attention until she made the lunge for freedom.
Grabbing Jessica, I took her to the floor and shielded her with my body, feeling every dip and curve of her full-figured body beneath me. She smelled like peaches, and I wanted to take a big ole’ bite of her. My cock grew so hard it chaffed against my jeans. She had to feel it poking her in the stomach, but she stayed still.
When the proverbial smoke had settled, Jessica’s first reaction was to make sureIwas okay. Working as a bouncer, I was exposed to plenty of narcissistic, needy women. Having one show genuine concern for my wellbeing threw me for a loop.
She was a fucking phenomenon.
Jessica suggested we fire off Nate’s gun to keep the police off our backs, and I gained a whole new respect for her. My appreciation grew when she remained calm after the cops arrived and advised us to head down to the station so they could officially take our statements. Link, our club’s president, his wife, Emily (a ball-busting attorney), and Carly showed up to accompany us. Between bikes, a Jaguar, and a Jeep, we made up one hell of an eclectic caravan.
Since I played such a small part in the altercation, Seattle’s finest only questioned me long enough to make sure they couldn’t punch any holes in my story before releasing me. I headed out into the lobby, where I found Carly pacing in front of the police station doors like a caged animal.
“What’s up, babe?” I asked as I approached. “You waiting to go back?”
