Page 5 of Never Wed an Outlaw

Couldn't decide if I liked her top or bottom better. One thing's for sure – she had the kind a woman's blessed with when it's her destiny to have a couple kids deep inside her.

'Course, kids were about the last thing on my mind right about now. My dick went full primal while I caressed her curves, imagining how hot she'd get straddling me, gripping her ass, riding me all the way home.

We danced the rest of the tune. Rock turned into Johnny Cash, country and hard beats coming together like the hearts banging themselves wild in the darkness tonight.

When the music died, she tried to pull away, the little minx. Damn if I didn't growl, catch her by the wrist, and jerk her back to me.

“Where you think you're going, darlin'?” I whispered, my teeth against her ear. “We've got a lot more catchin' up to do. This ain't over.”

Caressing her cheek with one hand, I tipped her face to mine, saw it was begging to be kissed. I wondered what kind of voodoo shit got slipped into the club's whiskey tonight to make me seriously consider laying a brother's little sis.

“Keep it in your pants just a little longer. I have to see Huck and Cora one more time before they leave. We'll catch up more later, Dusty. Maybe we can talk business,” she said, flashing me a wink over her shoulder as she pulled away.

“Business?” I snorted. Only business with her that interested me was finding out how wet she'd be when I slid my hand between her thighs.

“Sure, why not? Maybe I'll make you an offer you can't refuse. Later, Dusty. Promise.”

Promise.Fuck, something about that word rolling off her sugary lips turned my cock from steel to diamond.

What the hell would happen if I brought her into my office, threw her across my desk, and reached underneath that fancy purple dress, ripping her panties off?

It'd been too long since I had any fun with a girl I was really into. Always too much club biz tying me down, too many wars and missing pennies in the club's coffers to worry about. We were just getting on our feet after my old man left us damned near broke before passing me the gavel.

Slowly, I reached for my pipe, sinking my teeth into the wood when I gave it a light. Oddly disappointing tonight.

Tobacco didn't taste half as good as I imagined Hannah tasting on my lips. If I didn't have her scent, her sweat, her cream on my tongue by the end of the night, I'd punch the mirror when I saw myself in it the next morning for letting her slip away.

Normally, fucking around with a brother's family in this club was suicide. Dumber than crashing your ride into the nearest police station. Hannah, though...she might be worth the trouble. Just for tonight.

I nodded to myself, watching the thick, rich tobacco smoke curling out my lips.Yeah, boy, you're damned near fucked.

Some boys know a man shouldn't keep stacking his plate high when he's already got more than he can swallow. Not me. Not now. I'd risk the drama and blows to the face from a very pissed off Firefly if it meant having Hannah Sexy Davis' notch in my bedpost.

They werebusy talking for about an hour. I watched Hannah, Firefly, and Cora at the dinner table outta the corner of my eye while I shot the shit with Joker and Sixty.

My table jerked in between bites of rib. My Veep was doing that damned thing with the knife again, slamming the blade through the gaps in his fingers like a circus freak interviewing for a new job. Or just a fuckin' idiot looking for an express ticket to the emergency room.

“That's enough,” I said, looking up at him. “Ain't it time to take that dog for some fresh air, or something?”

He always stared at me with those hazel, almost gold eyes. Looks that made me wonder if there was anybody home. “Sure, Prez.”

He stood up a second later while I shook my head. I watched him walk off with the big Irish Wolfound's leash in his hands. If it weren't for that dog keeping him grounded, I'd have a helluva time trusting anything going on in that boy's head.

Wasn't his fault, though. Several years ago, a few mean motherfuckers from the Deadhands MC killed his twin brother and put their grandpa in a nursing home. I promised him vengeance – but only when the club got its balls back, and had the force to make those bastards extinct.

Revenge, you couldn't fuck up. Going against the Deads? Absolute death sentence, unless every single one of your ducks was in a row, and armed to the goddamned beak.

I raised my beer to my lips. Didn't taste as good, thinking about Joker's shit. One more dirty little secret I'd hidden from the brothers for their own good. Trouble with secrets was, they never stayed buried forever.

“Shit, Prez, you've been sitting there all hour like a statue. Don't you want to watch the happy couple kiss?” Sixty smiled, stroking his goatee, clanging his bottle loudly one more time.

Cora and Firefly must've been getting damned tired of it. Or maybe it was one more excuse to lock lips while the whole club looked on. Must've been a thousand wedding kisses already that night, and adding one more wouldn't hurt.

“Give the girl a break,” I said. “She's carrying his kid.”

“Yeah, yeah, maybe you're right! Easy to forget she's knocked up. Least they're doing things in the right order, or close enough,” Sixty said. He pulled out a smoke and put it between his lips. “Poor woman's gonna need a day to rest up after big boy gets done with her tonight.”

I nodded, giving him a dirty look. He might be right, but their fuckin' wasn't any of his business.

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