Gunnar A Motorcycle Club Romance - Nina Levine Page 0,34

the day far, far in the future when I never have to share a bed with this man again.

That day can’t come soon enough.

All I can hope is that I haven’t lost myself completely when it arrives.

9

Gunnar

This week can go to hell. It’s been fucked up from the get-go. Now that I’m staring at a long afternoon taking care of Joe fucking Hearst’s bullshit, I’m more pissed than I was when I woke up. And that’s saying something, because I went to bed angry after seeing Chelsea and Joe last night, and woke up with that anger still sitting deep in my gut.

I couldn’t fucking help myself, hanging around after Griff and I finished club business with him. I watched Chelsea with him and that reporter. Watched him put his arm over her and pull her close. Watched her laugh when he said shit. When she put her hand to his chest and looked up lovingly at him, I was done. Fuck, I thought I was, but no, I still chose to torture myself by waiting for her in the hallway outside the bathroom when I saw her slip in there.

I’d told her that fucking her did nothing for me. That was a load of fucking shit. It stirred my need for her to new fucking levels, and I’ve spent nearly every second since, thinking about her. Hell, I wanted to fuck her again outside that fucking bathroom. Especially when I saw my bite marks on her neck.

“Gunnar,” Griff says as we enter the office building of the first asshole we have to see for Hearst this afternoon. “You think you can hold your shit together for this? ’Cause I’m looking at you, and I’m not seeing any semblance of calm in you.”

“That’s a big fucking word, Griff.”

He comes to a halt, his eyes flashing with irritation. “You wanna be a smartass, I can work with that, but we’re gonna need to take that shit outside.”

Fuck.

I exhale a long breath. “Sorry, brother. I’m good.”

He watches me silently for a beat. “You fucking sure about that, because I don’t need you to go in there and fuck shit up. I don’t need Hearst or Novak busting my fucking balls like they have been.”

“I’m sure.” I’m fucking not, but I’m not telling him that.

He stabs a finger at me. “If you screw shit up, this’ll be the last job you come on with me. I’ll fucking put you to work at Indigo instead.”

Christ, that’s a fucking threat, and he knows it. Working at Storm’s strip club isn’t something I like to do. Fucking ever. Some of those strippers are whiny bitches who do my head in.

I follow him up to the office of the guy we’re here to see. He lets us in with hesitation that soon turns to anger when Griff tells him why we’re here.

“Just a friendly reminder to keep supporting Novak,” Griff says. “You withdraw that support and he’ll have your application blocked.” An application for zoning the guy needs to push his commercial development through.

The guy’s face puffs up red. “You go back and tell Novak that if he screws me in the ass, I’ll screw him right back.”

“No,” Griff says more calmly than I’d be saying it, “you just tell us now that your support is guaranteed, and we’ll take that back to him. He’ll play nice after that, and you’ll get your development.”

“I’m not guaranteeing anything. Not with the current policies it looks like he’s bringing in.”

Griff moves towards him, and the guy flinches while trying like fuck to appear unaffected. “You wanna revise that statement?” Griff’s voice takes on a darker tone; he was just getting warmed up.

The guy shakes his head. “No. And it’s time for you two to leave.”

“We’re not leaving until we get what we came for,” Griff says.

“Well, we’ve got a problem then.”

Jesus, this shit could take all fucking day at this rate.

I walk to the guy and grab him roughly by the shirt. Yanking him to me, I growl, “That’s not what we wanna fucking hear. Try again.”

His eyes flare with fear. He’s a suit-wearing, desk-riding dickhead. This kind of force is what men like him need to respond in the way we want them to. “You’re going to threaten me to get what you want?”

I grip his shirt harder. “I’m gonna do whatever the fuck it takes to get what we want.” My eyes land on the framed photo of him with a woman on his desk. Jerking my