“Fuck me,” I said. “I was tryin’ to get you to fuck me. And see? I was right—it was fantastic. And we aren’t scaring you today, are we?”
“Um, I mean you’re still a bunch of big, intimidating guys,” she said. “But you’ve been good to me. You know, aside from the whole renting me for five hundred bucks thing.”
“Hey, it worked for me,” I replied, wrapping my arms around her waist. “In the end, I got to fuck you. Mission accomplished.”
Mandy tugged at my hands, pretending to be pissed, but she wasn’t trying very hard. Then I kissed her neck and she relaxed back into me, dropping her head against my shoulder.
“You’re a horrible man and I shouldn’t be letting you do this,” she muttered. “But you’re really good at it.”
I slid my hand up and under her tank top, finding her tit and giving it a squeeze. Mandy squeaked and smacked at me again, this time for real, and I started laughing.
“You can’t stand being nice for even a minute, can you?” she asked, twisting her head back around. “People can see us.”
“Baby, wearin’ those shorts with your legs wide open, it’s not your boobs they’re lookin’ at.”
She looked down between her legs, and while I couldn’t see the horror on her face, it wasn’t too hard to imagine it. Mandy obviously had no clue how much they were riding up. The strip of cloth between her legs covered about as much as a thong.
She all but spun on the bench, bringing her legs together, and I burst out laughing for real. She glared at me, then flipped me off, which made me laugh louder.
“You’re such an asshole!” she hissed. “And it’s getting late. I need to go home and get ready for work.”
I wanted to tell her to blow it off, but I’d already tried that last night and she’d shot me down. Mandy took her job damned seriously. I wasn’t used to that—women jumped to kiss my ass, no matter where I went. Some of it was looks, I knew this.
More of it was the patch and the title.
The Reapers were badass motherfuckers and I was their president. The job came with many responsibilities, but the pussy was a serious perk.
“Okay, I’ll take you home,” I said, and I caught a flicker of disappointment on Mandy’s face. Someone wasn’t as eager to end our night together as she insisted… She sighed, nodding her head.
“Home,” she repeated. “I’ll go grab my purse and meet you out front. I want to say good-bye to a couple people first.”
“Sure thing,” I said, watching her semi-exposed ass twitch as she hustled back over to the girls. That’s when it hit me.
She’d just given me an order. Holy shit. I sat back, thinking about it. Couldn’t remember the last time someone had tried telling me what to do, and now this little slip of nothing waitress was treating me like a Goddamn cab driver.
Fucking hell.
She was worth more than five hundred bucks, just for that alone.
Chapter Fourteen
Mandy
Here I was again—riding home with Shade, although this time it was bittersweet.
I’d had a good time with him. A great time, actually. So what if the thought of seeing him used to terrify me? That was back when I only knew scary (but sexy) Shade. Now I knew fun (even sexier) Shade, and somehow the two seemed to have settled into a balance that I really liked.
I didn’t want him to drop me off at my trailer and then say good-bye forever.
Even worse, I didn’t want to watch him hooking up with other girls at the Pit and have to pretend it didn’t bother me, because it would. This…this was why it’d been stupid to give in to temptation and spend the night with him. Men were a slippery slope, one that started with the most innocent of glances and ended with me handcuffed in the back of a police car.
So I savored our ride home together but also steeled myself to say good-bye to him. I’d be casual and flippant. Gangster. No big deal. If Wonder Woman could do it, so could I.
Of course, I wasn’t an Amazonian demi-goddess. I was just a waitress…
Shut up, Wonder Woman said. Do you know how many heroic waitresses there are? A few years ago, the waitresses at a Denny’s restaurant in Coeur d’Alene recognized an armed serial killer with a captive child, then stalled him until the police showed up! You telling me those women didn’t have courage?
Wait, what? Whoa… I had absolutely no memory of ever hearing or reading anything about this, so how the hell had my subconscious inserted it into an imaginary conversation with an Amazonian princess?
Holy shit. Was Wonder Woman real?
Jesus Christ, don’t be ridiculous, Wonder Woman snapped. Of course I’m not real. You’re talking to yourself, nitwit.
God. I was literally going crazy, on top of everything else. I tightened my hold on Shade and watched the road fly by under our wheels, trying very, very hard not to think of anything at all.
Thankfully, I’d managed to pull myself together and was braced to give Shade his casual good-bye when we reached Violetta. I was holding steady right up until we turned down the road and crossed the railroad tracks onto the flat. That’s when Hannah’s trailer came into view.
There was a sheriff’s patrol car parked out front.
My nails dug into Shade’s stomach, hard enough that he realized something was wrong. He passed the house, continuing down the street and then turning the corner to swing back around the grain elevator. There—safely hidden by the massive structure—he killed the big Harley engine.
Abrupt silence filled the air.
“I really like the way you scratch your nails down my back during sex,” Shade said after a long pause. “But it’s a hell of a lot less sexy when you’re trying to claw out my stomach. Wanna let go so we can talk this out?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said, unclenching my fingers through will alone. Then I swung my leg over the bike. “Thanks so much for the ride. I can just walk home from here, no need to—”
Shade’s hand shot out, catching my arm, forcing me to face him.
“Yeah, that’s not gonna happen yet,” he said. I stared down at the big fingers, wishing I’d been faster. Shade was strong—no way I’d be getting away from him now. “Why are you scared of cops? I understood why things were tense the other day. You didn’t know why he was there and we’d just gone through the shit with Rebel. But you know damned well that Heath Andrews is at your house today ’cause he’s into your sister. You don’t need to be afraid of him. What gives?”