Stealing the Biker's Heart (Dogs of Fire: Savannah Chapter, #2) Page 8

  “How the fuck would he know that?” I demanded.

  Quin ignored me. “But that does not mean I’m objecting to a biker’s woman watching her.”

  “Yeah?” he challenged. “Then why are you spoutin’ that bullshit, Quin?”

  “Okay, you two, let’s take it down a notch, huh?” I said.

  “Brooke’s close,” Badger said. “She can watch Kinsey if need be.”

  “Not sure I wanna drag her into this, Badge. Caspar can make that decision, though,” I said, and sent a text to Caspar. His woman was a teacher, which meant she had time in the afternoons, and she loved kids.

  Quinlan threw her hands up in the air. “Oh, my god! You male chauvinist, misogynist pieces of—”

  “Mama?” Kinsey patted her leg. “What’s wong?”

  Quin glared at me and I bit back a smile. Schooling her features, she picked Kinsey up and hugged her. “Nothing, honey bunches. I’m simply reminding your uncles that women are just as capable of making decisions as men.”

  “Where’d my Kinsey girl go?” Gator bellowed as he walked into the room.

  Kinsey gasped. “Hide, hide.”

  “Well, you better do that,” Quinlan said and set her on her feet.

  Kinsey ran off to play with Gator and I braced myself for the lecture about to come in three, two—

  “Oh, my god, Valen, I had no idea you’d fallen to the depths of chauvinistic asshole,” she hissed, then jabbed a finger at Badger. “I knew he had, but not you.”

  “Hey, now,” Badger growled.

  I was pissed, but I wasn’t about to kick my sister (too much) while she was down, so I gave her a sad smile. “You and I don’t talk much anymore, Quin, so I don’t think you know what the fuck’s been goin’ on in my life... and you know what, little sister? That’s on you.”

  She wrinkled her nose and glared at me, but she couldn’t argue, so she didn’t. Badger moved a little closer to her but also didn’t counter what I said, so I continued, “I’m gonna talk to Caspar and see if his woman can look out for Kinsey. It’s not because Brooke is a woman, it’s because her man is my brother and we talk to each other first. It’s a respect thing, and most importantly it’s a trust thing.”

  Quinlan rolled her eyes, but didn’t comment.

  “I have a feeling he’s not gonna have a problem with it, plus it won’t be for a few days, right?”

  Quinlan continued to glare at me.

  “Quin?” I pressed.

  “Fine,” she breathed out.

  I took her hand. “Come with me.”

  Tugging her to the back of the compound, I pulled her into the conference room and settled her in one of the chairs. “Vent, sis.”

  Instead of releasing the rage I was sure she was stuffing deep down inside, she rose to her feet and burst into tears, wrapping her arms around my waist and burying her face in my chest. “Hey, sissy, it’s okay. I’m gonna take care of this.”

  “I’ve fucked this whole thing up, Valley.”

  “How’s that?”

  “I should have listened to you and Knox. I should have never married Michael.”

  Well, she was right about that. She’d been pregnant at the time, so Michael convinced her that marriage was her only option. He didn’t want the stigma of a “bastard child,” which was part of the reason Badger and I warned her not to marry the asshole. We weren’t livin’ in the fuckin’ Dark Ages and my niece or nephew, regardless of Quin’s marital status, would never be considered a “bastard.” This was reason number four-hundred-seventy-two I hated the asshole.

  I gave her a gentle squeeze. “Can’t go back, Quin, but I’m gonna fix it.”

  “But you shouldn’t have to fix it! I should.”

  I gripped her shoulders and met her eyes. “Sissy, this is most definitely a cluster-fuck. No doubt about it, but we are going to clean it up and figure it out. You trust me?”

  She bit her lip. “It’s not you I’m worried about.”

  “Michael can’t touch me... or you, Quin.”

  “I wish I had your confidence.”

  “Apparently, Booker found a shit ton of interesting information ... it sounds like you’re gonna get out from under this guy without issue.”

  “What kind of stuff?” she asked.

  “I’m not exactly sure, but Booker will fill me in when we talk later. He doesn’t like to get into specifics over unsecured lines, so I’ll have to call him from the clubhouse. He may be a bit paranoid, but the sonafabitch is rarely wrong.”

  * * *

  Jasmine

  Leaving the salon in the capable hands of Renee, my second in command, so to speak, I walked a block to my little manufacturing space and into the lobby where Lindy was waiting. She was also a packaging design expert, but she said she preferred to be known as Head Mad Scientist...so she was. I even had business cards made for her (and she passed them out!).

  “Hi, Jazz,” she said, handing me a hairnet and lab coat.

  “Hey there. You look happy,” I said, and donned my protective wear.

  She nodded. “You’re going to love, love, love the new formula.”

  The very capable scientists I’d hired (at a premium price) had landed on a series of moisturizers that worked a little differently with each formula, meaning they could be marketed for body, face, hands, and feet. I was ecstatic, particularly since I was running out of money and if this didn’t work, I’d have to go back to the drawing board. All of this was a major risk, but it was my life’s work. I’d borrowed against my house and my salon, and if my extremely sensitive skin not only tolerated, but flourished with this formula, I could change the face of cosmetics.

  Following Lindy into the lab, the head tech, Marcus (he liked to refer to himself as the minion to the mad scientist), faced us with a grin. “We’ve got it.”

  “So I hear,” I said, and clapped my hands. “Show me.”

  He showed me the results of their tests, then went back to work. For the next hour, Lindy and I discussed next steps, packaging designs, and marketing options, and by the time I headed back to the salon, I was exhausted, but energized. Luckily, I had one more client, then I could go home and crash.

  Just as I was about to close up, I heard the bell over the door and headed out to the front... and stalled.

  Swallowing the bile that rose up to my throat, I forced a smile. “Hey, Michael.”

  “Good afternoon, Jasmine. Do you have time for a haircut?”

  “I’m actually closing up.”

  He gave me a smarmy grin. “Will you make an exception? For a friend?”

  We aren’t friends, asshole.

  Remembering that I couldn’t show any signs I knew what was going on between him and Quinlan, I sighed. “Let me get a few things set back up. It’ll take me five minutes... if you don’t mind waiting.”

  “Not a problem.”

  I nodded. “Great. Have a seat and I’ll be right with you.”

  He sat in one of the chairs by the window and I walked as calmly as I could to the back, where I fired off a text to Alamo. I felt sick. What the hell was he doing here? He’d never come to me for a haircut before, so I pretty much figured he was there to rattle Alamo... or Quinlan... or both.

  The problem was, he was rattling me, and I had scissors. I took a deep breath and headed back to the front. “Can I grab you a cup of coffee?”

  Michael smiled, raising his head from his phone. “No, I’m good, thank you.”

  “If you’ll follow me to the sink, I’ll wash your hair.”

  I tried to calm my nerves as he sat at the sink. I helped him lean back and went about washing his hair, all the while my hands shook like crazy.

  The bell rang, and I turned my head to see my man walk in and I almost cried in relief. He gave me a chin lift and nodded to a package he held, setting it on the reception desk and I smiled. Without a word, he walked to the back room and I finished up with Michael.

  “Did I hear the bell?” Michael asked as he sat at my sta
tion.

  “Delivery,” I said, securing the cape around him and smiling at him in the mirror. “So, what would you like done?”

  “I’ve let my hair get a little out of control, I’m afraid, so if you can cut it quite short, perhaps leaving it a little longer on top?”

  His tone had always been soft and southern to the core, but he always gave me the creeps.

  “I can do that,” I said, and went about doing my job... as quickly as I could.

  “So, I know Quin has an appointment with you next week, right?” he asked. “When is that again?”

  “Um, I don’t think she does, actually,” I said as breezily as I could. “But I can check. Gosh, I hope I haven’t missed something.”

  “I could be wrong,” he said. “But it would be helpful if you could check.”

  I nodded and decided to change the subject. “How’s Kinsey? I bet she’s growing like crazy.”

  “She sure is,” he confirmed.

  After that, conversation stopped. Michael said nothing. Not one word. I forced myself not to shudder. It was weird. People always talked to their hairdresser. The stories I’d heard would make a whore blush and I’d taught myself not to react. I was a safe place for people to unload.

  But Michael? He sat there totally still. Not a twitch, unless I asked him to move, or put him in a certain position. It was as creepy as hell.

  “Right,” I said, grabbing the hand mirror to show him the back of his head. “Have a look and tell me what you think.”

  “Looks great, Jasmine. I appreciate it.”

  I removed his cape and led him to reception.

  “So... Quinlan’s appointment?” Michael pressed.

  “Right,” I said, and pretended to be checking the computer. “Nope, she’s not on here. Did she say she had an appointment? I’ll be happy to squeeze her in if I’ve missed something.”

  “No, no, I’m sure I must have written the date down wrong.”

  I made a point of letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, good. Well, you let her know if she needs to come in to give me a call.”

  “I’ll do that.” He handed me a hundred-dollar bill, and I opened the till to get his change, but he shook his head. “Keep the change, Jasmine. You do good work.”

  “Well, thank you, Michael. I’m glad you liked it.”

  He turned and walked out the door and I locked up, then rushed to the back, straight into Alamo’s arms. “Ohmigod, I thought I was going to puke... or cut him.”

  Alamo gave me a gentle squeeze and stroked my hair. “Don’t like that he came in here.”

  “Me neither,” I admitted. “He’s never come before, for any reason.”

  “You coulda told him you didn’t have time.”

  “I didn’t want to piss him off, Mo. What if he went ballistic and you weren’t here? I had time, so I figured it was easier to cut his hair and get him out as quickly as possible.”

  Alamo sighed. “Probably the right call, baby, but I don’t like it.”

  “Me neither. He was grilling me about Quin’s appointment. I think I lied convincingly.”

  “Does she have an appointment?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, like Michael was omnipresent. “Next week.”

  “How about we go ahead and cancel that until this shit’s taken care of?”

  I met his eyes. “How about I let your sister tell me that, since she’s a grown-ass woman and doesn’t need her brother ruling her schedule like a glorified secretary?”

  “Hmm, feisty today I see.”

  “I’m feisty every day.”

  He chuckled. “True.”

  I smiled. “I’m surprised you’re here. I figured you’d alert Boomer.”

  He cupped my face. “No way in hell I’d let you cut that asshole’s hair without being here. Got your back, baby.”

  I buried my face in his chest again. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  “Can’t stay, though.”

  “I figured.” I held him tighter. “But I want to squeeze you for another couple of minutes.”

  He chuckled. “Sounds good.”

  “What time are you going to be at my place later?”

  “Probably after ten.”

  “Okay.”

  Alamo’s phone buzzed, and he kept hold of me while he pulled it out of his pocket. “Gotta go, baby.”

  “Okay,” I said, but held him tighter.

  He chuckled. “You need another minute?”

  “Yes.”

  He stroked my hair and kissed the top of my head and I breathed in the glory of his scent before he was forced to go. I did get an epic kiss that left me all hot and bothered before he left, but, honestly, it just made it harder for me to watch him leave.

  Closing up the shop, Boomer met me outside and followed me back to my place. I got a call from Willow right as I stepped inside my condo, and I grinned. “Hey, long lost bestie.”

  “Want some company?” Willow asked.

  “Yes! I’ll cook.”

  “Mmmm, sounds good. Parker’s coming too.”

  “I get you two nights in a row?” I said excitedly.

  Willow laughed. “Yep. We’ll see you in twenty.”

  I grinned and hung up, then planned my menu.

  Jasmine

  Two weeks later, I pulled open my door and lost my breath. Mostly because Alamo’s mouth was suddenly on mine, so breathing wasn’t really possible with his tongue down my throat. But I didn’t care, because I could live on this man’s kisses for the rest of my life if it came to that, so I slid my hands into his hair and held on tight.

  God, I’d missed him. We’d seen each other the sum total of three and half times in the last fourteen days (once being when he brought me to the compound to do Quinlan’s hair), and I hated the fact life got in the way of whatever was happening between us. This thing, this beautiful thing was delicious, and I wanted it to never end.

  He broke the kiss and ran his nose against mine. “Hey, baby.”

  “Hey.” I smiled. “How long do I have you for?”

  “You want me all night, I’m yours.”

  My heart raced. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah, baby.” He grinned. “You want me all night?”

  I knew the underlying meaning of that question, and since I was no longer a teenager, my rule didn’t really apply anymore. It started out as a way to protect myself, but I wanted him more than I’d ever wanted anyone, so tonight was the night.

  “Can we get naked?”

  He closed his eyes briefly, then kissed me again. “We can absolutely get naked.”

  “Now?” I whispered.

  “Yeah, Firefly. Right now.”

  I licked my lips. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

  Alamo chuckled. “Baby, I’m in. You in?”

  “I’m so, so in.”

  “Permanent like, Jasmine.”

  I nodded. “Definitely, Alamo.”

  After locking up, I led him down the hall to my bedroom, and then his mouth was on mine again and all my nerves disappeared.

  Alamo wrapped his arms around me and kissed me, tugging my T-shirt over my head and sliding his hand to my neck as he deepened the kiss. I tore at his cut and shirt, wanting to feel his chest against mine. He broke the kiss briefly to pull his shirt over his head and I took that second to unhook my bra.

  “So fuckin’ perfect,” he rasped, kissing me again and pulling my bra off, dropping it to the floor. He cupped my breasts and ran his thumb over my nipples, then guided me to the bed and lifted me onto the mattress. He unzipped my jeans and tugged them down my hips, panties and all, kneeling between my legs and guiding one leg over his shoulder.

  He kissed the inside of one thigh, then the other, before covering my core with his mouth, his tongue pressing against my clit as I fisted my hands in my comforter. Sucking my clit gently, he slid one finger, then two, inside of me, twisting and reaching my g-spot with an adeptness I wasn’t prepared for, and I came so fast and hard, I cried ou
t as the most intense orgasm I’d ever had washed over me.

  Kissing his way back up my body, he scraped a nail across my nipple before leaning down to draw it into his mouth. I gasped as he blew gently where he’d sucked, feeling the bud tighten as he sucked again.

  I wove my fingers into his hair and pulled gently, the sensation of his mouth on my tits taking me to a completely different place.

  I lost his mouth when he stood briefly to remove the rest of his clothes, but the sight of his perfect body soothed the separation.

  “Ohmigod, honey, you’re like... perfect,” I breathed out, and Alamo chuckled.

  “Back atya,” he said, and stretched out beside me, pulling me to him, my nipples hardening even more as my breasts connected with his chest.

  I slid my hand down his chest and wrapped my fingers around his hardness, licking my lips as I pulled my fist down gently.

  “Baby, wait,” he whispered. “If you keep doing that, I’m not gonna last.”

  I grinned. “We’ll be twinsies.”

  He laughed. “Like where you’re goin’ with this, but let’s take this slow, yeah?”

  He kissed me quickly and I lost all coherent thought when he slid his hand between my legs. “So wet. Love that, Firefly.”

  I nodded and then gasped as he dragged my wetness to my clit with his finger. “Mo,” I breathed out.

  He kissed my neck, whispering, “I fuckin’ love it when you call me Mo, baby.”

  I smiled. “I fuckin’ love your name, Mo.”

  Alamo shifted so he could slide a condom on, then he hovered above me, pressing the head of his cock against my entrance. Kissing me, he slid partially in, letting my body adjust to his size. I gripped his arms and wrapped a leg around his hip, arching into him, silently begging him for more. He understood, pushing further into me, and I whimpered with need.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “More, Mo.”

  He obliged, surging deep into me as I matched the motion of his hips with mine. Linking his fingers with mine, he dragged my hands above my head and anchored me to the mattress as he slammed into me over and over again.

  “I...”

  “Come, baby,” he rasped, and I exploded, crying out his name as my body thrummed with ecstasy.

  He released my hands, sliding one to my neck to stroke my pulse while he kissed me, then he gently pulled out of me and headed to the bathroom. I couldn’t move, so I stayed put, taking deep breaths as my body began to cool.