Hammer (Heartlands Motorcycle Club #9) - Dani Wyatt Page 0,9
that so? There is something, I agree. I think we should explore this something.”
I pull back a bit, her cheeks are bright pink and I raise an eyebrow at her.
“It’s just…” She tries, but I slide my hand under her hair, lightly gripping the back of her neck and turning her body so she’s facing me. Her tits are just brushing the front of my vest. “If this is something, it can’t be more than like, friends with benefits. Or whatever, because we’re not really friends.”
I bite into my cheek. I like the benefits part of that, but a flash of red anger blinds me.
“You’ve had these kind of friends before?” I manage, trying to keep my voice even as I imagine choking the life out of anyone that’s had some casual encounter with her before.
Because nothing about what I’m feeling is casual.
“No, it’s not that—” She stammers, as my fingers pulse on the back of her neck and my eyes stay on hers, watching her lashes flutter. “I’m just not interested in anything serious. You don’t strike me as the type that wants serious either, so I just want to be clear…if we, you know.” She shrugs a shoulder upward and there’s an innocence in her eyes and words that makes me think this is all fairly new territory for her. “Nothing serious. Just sex.”
“I don’t think you have any idea what I want.” I run my other hand down her back until I have a handful of the world’s most magnificent ass. “But, I’m willing to show you.”
She stalls, holding her breath, then lets out a long exhale before she replies. “Maybe you won’t like what I want.” She counters in a harsh tone, but that tough voice she uses doesn’t fool me.
Sure, she’s tough. She’s straightforward as fuck, and it all turns me on. But, it’s what I sense behind it all. There’s a girl inside, unsure, looking for answers, and I imagine this other part of her, the part that she wears for the rest of the world, might be something she needs to put down on occasion and let someone else take control.
And that someone is about to be me.
I pick up the bottle and nod. Without a word, she takes it from me. There’s no hesitation this time as she turns her head away from me and she takes a long swig of the clear liquor before shoving the bottle into my chest.
I counter with another shot of my own, and start to feel the effects of the tequila. I’m not a huge drinker, most people would think otherwise from stereotypes, but if there’s one thing I’m not, it’s a stereotype.
I push away my own reservations. The clutching inside is stronger than my logic, and there’s just something about her that fucking levels me in ways I never felt before.
I put down the bottle and slide both hands down her arms, ending with her hands in mine.
“Follow me.” I lick my lower lip and turn, holding both her wrists in my hand and pulling her toward the back hallway
I know Luann that owns this place. She’s about a hundred and twenty, but has the libido of a pubescent boy. She hit on me the first time I came in here and although she was disappointed when I turned down her advances, she told me that her old man was one of the first Heartlands members, way back in the day, and we got close.
He’s been gone decades now, but she carries his name inked down across her chest, along with a pair of eyes that are supposed to be his. She says he would want her to be happy, but she feels like he’s with her this way even when she’s with some other man.
I pull Robin behind me toward a metal door under the buzzing fluorescent lights. Stopping in front of it, I drop her hand, reach into my back pocket and pull out a pocket knife, jamming it into the key slot in the knob.
“What are you doing? You can’t just—” The sound of me throwing my shoulder into the metal door and it popping open finishes her sentence.
“It’s okay. I know the lady that owns this place. She won’t care. In fact, she’d be jealous…”
I flip on the light switch and the room is stacked with boxes of single use detergents and dryer sheets for the vending machine, along with a big yellow bucket with a mop and other miscellaneous, and