“Got a feeling that’s not the whole story, but I don’t want to push,” he said. “I had fun tonight. You think you’d be interested in seeing each other again?”
I considered the question.
“Yeah, I might be interested,” I said finally, wondering why I didn’t get the same thrill from Joe that I got from Puck. Mom always went for the dangerous ones, too, and guess who paid the price? Fuck that. I needed to pull my head out of my ass and appreciate the man I was with. “I want to take things nice and slow, though. If that’s a problem, we should probably let it go . . .”
He kissed the top of my head.
“Not a problem,” he said. “Not a problem at all. But I’ve got a question for you.”
“What’s that?” I asked, my stomach sinking. Please don’t let him ask about Puck . . .
“You have history with Puck Redhouse,” he stated. “That’s obvious. That something I should be worrying about?”
Yes! Everyone should worry about Puck—he’s dangerous!
“No. No problem there—Puck and I knew each other for a while, once. That’s all. There’s no history. Nothing that matters now.”
My stomach twisted as I said it, because that was a big fucking lie. Puck definitely mattered. There was Life Before Puck and Life After Puck, and those two lives had nothing in common.
But the first life was firmly in the past and I needed it to stay there. Maybe Joe could be part of the second. Snuggling deeper into his arm, I savored his warmth and for the first time in years considered what it might be like to have a decent man in my life.
This is what we want, my brain said firmly. Now enjoy it.
THREE
PUCK
The sound of the phone woke me. Carlie groaned.
“Make it stop,” she murmured, although I could tell she wasn’t really awake. “Don’t wanna get up.”
Rolling to the side of the bed, I sat up and reached for the handset, wondering for the thousandth time when we’d finally get some fucking cell towers here in the north valley. Should’ve stayed at her house. Wouldn’t have been able to track me down there.
“Puck, it’s Boonie,” my president said. Scratch that—he’d have found me at her place, too. Carlie was good people, and she knew how things were with the club. More than one church meeting had happened in her living room over the past couple of years. I kept thinking Deep would claim her, but she didn’t seem quite ready to settle down with one man. For now, she drifted through different beds, which seemed to work for her.
Worked for me, too.
I’d been horny as fuck last night, no pun intended. It’d been six months since I’d seen Becca—the woman was more beautiful now than she’d ever been. She’d turned twenty-one three months ago . . . Three months I’d spent reminding myself of all the reasons I should stay away from her—the same reasons that’d kept me away the last five years. She’d been abused by bikers. In her eyes I was probably the best of the lot, which was a fucking shameful thought to tolerate. She was terrified of motorcycle clubs and me and just about everything, and whenever I tried to talk to her, she flinched. Oh, and she was too goddamn young.
Except she wasn’t too young anymore.
That’s what really messed with my head. If I wanted her, I could take her. Nobody would stop me—not even Becca. She was hot for it, which was painfully obvious despite her best efforts to stay distant.
I’d be flattered if her response wasn’t to pretend I didn’t exist.
So instead of opening my window, walking over, and staking a claim to what my dick asserted (strongly) was my rightful property, I’d fucked Carlie instead. She wasn’t the one I wanted but the woman was a yoga teacher. What kind of dumbass turns that down?
“What’s up?” I asked Boonie, rubbing the back of my neck.
“You sound like crap,” he said, laughing. “Hungover?”
“No, just stayed out too late. You need something, or you just determined to make my life a living hell for shits and grins?”
“Wow, someone needs his beauty sleep. I’ve got a job for you. Need you to make a run into town, connect with our friends there. Bring your truck.”
“Got it.”
Hanging up the phone, I reached over and smacked Carlie’s butt.
“Suck your own dick,” she moaned. “Wanna sleep some more.”
“At the moment I’d take sleep over you sucking my dick, too,” I replied, rubbing my face and yawning. “But I need you up and out. That was Boonie—he’s got business for me.”
She moaned again, but she sat up and rolled out of the bed. I watched as she leaned over, boobs jiggling. They were nice, but Becca’s were better. Remembered them vividly. She’d filled out since then, which I’d bet my left nut just made them better.
Oh yeah. That was enough to wake my cock up.
Suddenly I wasn’t so interested in going back to sleep, but when the president says move, tapping ass ceases to be a priority. I stumbled toward the shower, ducking under long enough to rinse off the sweat and by the time I’d come out Carlie was dressed.
“You need a ride?”
“Nope, I’m going over to Darcy’s shop,” she said. “Got an appointment in an hour and a half to get my highlights done. Figure I’ll stop off and grab her some coffee on the way. Assuming they’re open after your little bust-up yesterday.”
I grunted.
“So what was that really all about?” she asked, obviously not ready to let it go. “Never seen you get that worked up about a waitress before. Something I should know about?”