“Nope.” He winked at Madden and dropped a kiss on his cheek.
Madden started rambling about something that had happened, how jealous Slater had gotten when King was at his place one time. I tuned the story out as my stomach grumbled, and then I crawled down the bed until I had the bag of food in my hands.
“Save some,” Jayce said with a laugh, but I was already digging in the bag. I ate half of a sandwich to the two Jayce put away, but devoured all the fries, including his, so it was probably about fair. Jayce didn’t seem like he minded, though, and kept sending me little glances out of the corner of his curious blue eyes as we ate. He seemed like he couldn’t get enough of me. Was all this niceness from him because we’d fucked once? I almost hated the way he was being kind because it didn’t seem like something that could last. He handed me a napkin when I needed one, and didn’t grumble at all when I slurped the last of the Coke.
“See you at the office,” Madden chirped. “West says we owe him.”
“Fuck yeah, we do.”
“You okay by yourself?” Jayce asked Slater, and again I sort of tuned them out while they had a rapid-fire discussion about asking someone else to come and stay. Vaguely I remembered there was another guy who worked for Slater, but I was too stuck in my head to pay attention. Soon the food was gone, our shoes were on, and it was surreal to leave the motel room and just sort of move on with life. For a while it had felt like I was trapped in a film noir movie and we’d never exist anywhere else.
We were outside in the parking lot and I had just finished texting King that we were on the move when Jayce reached over and snagged my hand. My stomach went warm and my chest puffed full, lighter than air. I started calling myself names in my head for being so gullible.Again. Yes, miraculously, Jayce—maybe my newSir—had turned out to be a decent fuck in a sea of mediocre fucks, and yes, right now he seemed committed, but I needed to be careful not to make too much of a big deal out of that. He opened the door of his truck for me, and I kept reminding myself this probably wouldn’t last, even as he closed the door after me and smiled through the window. I had less than ten seconds alone for my spiraling breakdown to blossom into a full-scale panic attack, but I was well on my way to hyperventilating by the time he climbed in behind the steering wheel.
“You all right there, Lamb?”
“Yeah,” I said faintly. My chest did that weird floaty thing again when he used that stupid fucking nickname.Lamb.God, how fucking dumb that was. I hated how I latched onto any scrap of affection, but I wanted it more than was reasonable.
He frowned at me, but I only shook my head. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
“S’pose it is a lot to be involved in an investigation,” he said kindly.
I let his comment go. That was a good enough excuse to be acting the way I was, maybe. He went all contemplative and quiet on the drive to the Kings’ clubhouse, and I didn’t blame him. I knew he had his own reasons for being nervous, and the fact that he was a cop going into a motorcycle club was the least of them. Before we got out of the truck, I shot off a quick text to King, letting him know we had arrived, and he almost immediately texted me back.
“He’s ready for us in there.”
I had my hand on the door handle to get out when Jayce leaned toward me. I stilled. “You’re to wait.”
“For what?”
His eyes twinkled a little in the nearly gone, late-afternoon sunlight. “I don’t like you getting out and running off. You don’t open your own door anymore. Understood?”
My stomach melted with warmth and I squirmed on the inside. “You know, there’s control, and then there’s taking things too far.”
“Am I? This”—he touched the back of his hand to my overheated cheek—“tells me you like it just fine.”
“I’m a grown fucking man. I can open my own fucking door.”
“You can, but I told you to wait.”
Jayce got out and rolled his shoulders. They seemed bigger than usual, strong and solid, like they could support the world. His T-shirt clung in all the right ways. I held my breath as he came around, and I sat there staring at him the whole time, feeling ridiculous, feeling on display. Men didn’t open the door for other men, not really. Okay, some sappy fucks did that for their significant other, but this was just too much. I sat there anyway, though, and when he got to my door, he smirked in at me. I strained, sitting in place as he took his time opening the door, and finally he had it open and stepped close to rest his hand on my knee.
“I can’t get out with you right there.”
“I know.” He brushed a kiss to my cheek and then attacked my mouth. I wasn’t ready. I sat there stunned for a second, and then his tongue was pressing between my lips. Obediently, I opened. He slid his hand along the inside of my thigh, and I gasped when he rested his palm on my crotch. The slight weight created a ball of lightning that streaked around in my gut, and I plumped up until his hand was a teasing pressure on me. He spent some time fluttering his tongue against mine, and I knew I probably wasn’t allowed, but I rolled my hips. The second I moved, he took a little step back.
“That was good of you, to do as I said.”
“Thank you, Sir,” I whispered as hot humiliation mixed up in my stomach with something small and happy. I wanted to tell him to go straight to hell, that he was a fucker, and he was embarrassing. Not a peep came out of me.
He stepped back, and I climbed out on legs that wanted to wobble. Jayce wasn’t bigger than me by much, but when he did things like crowd directly against me, it made me feel strangely fragile andprotected.
He took my hand, apparently not shy about broadcasting what was going on between us. I led the way inside. Music was playing in the barroom, but not the usual obnoxious thumping, something soft and light with a techno house beat. There were balls scattered on the green velvet of the pool table on our left and cues leaned against the side, as if a game had been quickly abandoned. King sat straight on his usual seat at the end of the bar. He took up a lot of space as a person, and his personality always made him seem bigger. His hair was longer than he usually kept it and was ruffled, like he’d been running his hand through it.
On King’s left, Sapphira was leaning rather than sitting, with a beer in front of her. She looked good, like she always did, in black jeans that hugged her curves and a dark blue top. Her hair was up in a complicated twist of braids that left her neck bare, but a few swung around her face with diamondlike gems that glinted on the ends and matched her shiny hoop earrings. Her Harlot Queens jacket was slung onto the bar next to her, and I could see the patch.
“Hey, River,” she called. “How you doin’, kiddo? I heard you got into some shit.”
“Yeah,” I said weakly. “You know me.”
