Mettle: (Spartan Riders #2) Page 4

  Good thing he wasn’t looking for a quick lay. No, Blake Mahone, badass president of the Spartan Riders, had fallen head over ass in love with his kid’s school teacher, effectively putting an end to all extracurricular activities.

  And thank fuck for small miracles. The man had been a pussy magnet like nothing he’d ever seen, and now that he was out of commission, he and the rest of the brothers were like goddamn Little Bunny Foo Foo, scooping up all the field mice.

  Knocking his knuckles against the hardwood, Blake got real focused on the grain pattern. “Gabby isn’t sleeping at night. Hell, I’m not sleeping either. Every bump in the night is the fuckin’ Boogeyman, you know?”

  Tucker nodded. He totally got that. With Cruiz free, there was a giant question mark hanging over everyone’s head, most especially Blake and Gabby’s, who would no doubt be the prime target if and when Cruiz decided to roll back into town. “I’ve got my ear to the ground. If the asshole or any of his minions dip a toe in the water, I’ll know about it.”

  Blake grunted. “What about the money?”

  “S’all covered. Put it in a dummy account, wide open and waiting.” Cruiz wanted that money, and a want like his just didn’t evaporate into thin air. No, he was coming back for it, of that Tucker was certain.

  Scrubbing his hands over his face, Blake didn’t answer right away. Lines of tension wrinkled his brow and pinched his lips as he continued to stare down at his now-balled fist. “That’s not all.”

  Tucker sat forward. “Yeah?”

  “Gabby…” Blake’s haunted eyes lifted to his. In a grave tone, he said, “Gabby wants another kid.”

  For a moment, Tucker wasn’t sure he’d heard right. He’d been waiting for a nuclear explosion to go off from the look in his president’s eyes, but this? He started to laugh. “Wait, this is what’s stressin’ you out? Another kid?”

  Blake’s brows rose in confusion. “Yeah, a kid, goddammit.”

  “Forgive me, Prez, but I’m not seein’ the problem here.”

  “I already got a kid, is the problem, and I’m still gettin’ a handle on that one. Do you know just the other day he asked me how the fuck babies are made.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “What do you think? I told him to go ask Gabby. She’s the teacher.”

  Tucker laughed harder. “Dude, you did not pawn him off on your girlfriend. So not cool.”

  Blake shrugged. “Better than throwin’ a box of rubbers on his bed like my pops did for me. I learned everything I need to know about sex from the club. And y’all are some dirty motherfuckers, so no, I ain’t tellin’ him shit.”

  “Understandable. Don’t need the little guy jumping from amateur straight into porn star or anything.”

  “Ha, no kidding.”

  Tucker scratched at the beard growth dusting his right cheek. “So I take it you brought me in here for advice? ‘Cause you do know that I don’t have any kids—that I know of—and I sure as hell ain’t wifed up.”

  Blake’s expression was a touch sour and a lot impatient. “If you weren’t my friend…”

  “You know you love me.”

  He chose not to comment. “The truth of it is, out of all the brothers, I trust your judgment the most.” Which was like a compliment straight from God, as far as Tucker was concerned. “So what’s your opinion? What would you do if you were in my shoes?”

  Tucker rolled the question around the old gray matter for a minute, weighing the options, measuring the cons, but there was only one path that he could see. “Truth? I don’t think you have much choice here. She wants a kid, and if she were my ol’ lady, I’d give her one.”

  “Did you not hear what I said about not sleeping at night, about danger lurking around every corner? Fuck, Country, I’m not about knocking Gabby up and then having Cruiz come in here and slice her up like he did last time. And putting that shit aside, I already have a kid. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt. Why the hell would I want to go from one form of insomnia to another? I’m pretty sure that’d make me a masochist.”

  “One,” Tucker said, leaning back in his chair, “you can’t live your life around what some outside force may or may not do. Besides, we traveled that road once, we know what to look for, and shit ain’t happenin’ again. Ever.” He held up two fingers. “Two, you got a kid, yes, but Gabby doesn’t. She’s a damn school teacher, for cryin’ out loud. Pretty sure that means she likes kids. It’s not a big leap to guess that she’d want some of her own.”

  “We have Ash.”

  “Yeah, you do, but that’s not the same. He’s yours and Jodi’s. I’m not sayin’ Gabby doesn’t love Ash, because that’s obvious, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to have another. Hell,” Tucker continued as he stood, “if it were my ol’ lady wantin’ my kid in her, I’d be fuckin’ honored, ‘cause that’d mean she cared that much about me that she wanted a piece of me forever.” Not that he wanted kids, because that would mean being tied to a woman for, bare minimum, eighteen long years, but it might be cool to have a slice of his DNA floating around in the world.

  “Anyway, my appetizer is waiting. We done here? Or did you want to discuss mortgage insurance rates and—shit!” Tucker ducked as the gavel Blake kept on the table to his left came sailing toward him. It missed completely, cracking against the door and falling with a dull thump onto the floor.

  Blake scowled. “Bastard.”

  “Does Gabby know how violent you are? Does she know you beat us when she’s not around?”

  “Shut up, asshole,” Blake said with a chuckle.

  Tucker grinned, happy to see his friend smiling again. He bent to pick up the gavel, handed it back to Blake, and then headed for the door. He sobered as he opened it. “Just so you know, I think you should do it. You got a good thing with Gabby, and for some crazy reason, she loves you. And I can’t think of a better way to show it than to create another human being. Plus, it’s just more reasons for sex, so win-win.”

  The harsh light in Blake’s eyes faded as he regarded him. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, man.”

  Tucker gave him a two-finger salute before walking out the door. But he didn’t head straight back to his room where Talia was waiting for him. No, in lieu of all the baby talk, he was in need of a drink. And condoms. A lot of them. And he knew just where to get both.

  “Hey, Red! We need to talk!”

  SIX

  Neat as a pin. That was Talia’s first impression upon entering Tuck’s room. Obviously, he had OCD. Either that or he was a serial killer. In all her days, growing up as the only girl in a family with four boys, being married, working with mostly men, she had never seen a room so tidy.

  Everything had a place, not that there was much to speak of—a couple of photographs and a catch-all dish on the dresser, a black silk tapestry of King Tut on the wall along with some Playboy-esque posters, a desk lamp on the nightstand. Yep, tidy.

  Aware that Tuck would join her any moment, she used what little precious time she had alone to her advantage and got straight to work. She started with the closet, opening it to find something resembling an infomercial for Huggable Hangers; a row of neatly hung clothing in mostly shades of black and gray stared back at her. Heavy boots and a pair of worn tennis shoes stood in a neat row on the floor alongside a massive stack of Bowflex free weights—damn, she’d always wanted a set of those; and judging by the size and firmness of his arms, they definitely delivered. A small black safe tucked into a corner behind a stack of neatly folded blankets caught her attention, but, as she’d never dappled in bank robbery, she wasn’t adept at cracking combination codes. Besides, it looked to be one of those standard Brink’s deals: small, rectangular, and roughly twenty-five dollars at any major shopping store. It was probably filled with old tax documents and sand dollars.

  She moved on.

  The bathroom was next. It was the same deal as the bedroom. Sparkling clean, there was nothing of note: Two towels, black; matching bath mat; minimal cleani
ng supplies neatly arranged inside the shower caddy; a gleaming and probably expensive, old-fashioned shaving kit next to the sink.

  Back in the bedroom she went. Dropping down on her hands and knees beside the bed, Talia flipped back the gray pinstriped duvet and found…a whole lot of nothing.

  Well, he did have a few dust bunnies gathered along the baseboard.

  Maybe she’d tell him about that later, just for shits and giggles. No doubt it would drive Mr. Clean straight up a wall.

  The nightstand was next. Three drawers of secrets just waiting to be revealed. The top drawer whispered open revealing nothing but a few wrinkled papers, a well-worn copy of Wuthering Heights, and a pair of reading glasses.

  Talia frowned, trying to picture Tuck—badass, leather wearing biker, stacked full of muscle and sex-appeal—sitting in bed at night mooning over an old romance novel. Wearing glasses.

  She couldn’t.

  Maybe the book had belonged to his mother, or perhaps was left behind by one of the many women he’d bedded, she surmised.

  Fun thought that was, especially when she was looking forward to becoming another notch in his lengthy belt.

  Man, she must be dumb. Or just that hard up for dick. She didn’t even know the man, but hell, that was part of the appeal. Not only would she get laid, but if she was lucky, she might glean enough information from being within these four walls to push the investigation forward—or warrant an arrest.

  Either way, she was getting something out of tonight.

  The next drawer was equally uninspiring, holding random objects, like a half-empty tube of Mentos and some old gamer magazines. On the plus side, she could now add gaming to his list of extracurriculars, right beside manwhoring.

  Talia was ready to throw in the towel by the time she closed the second drawer up tight, but, never one to quit halfway through anything, she gave the door a quick glance to make sure no one was coming through it, then drew open the third.

  Her jaw dropped and her face flamed. Suddenly short of breath, Talia took a peek through the collection of sex toys, using the tip of her forefinger to nudge one out of the way here and there.

  “Busy boy,” she mused as she scoped out a peach-colored dildo that was easily seven inches long. Beside it sat a cock ring, some kind of medieval looking device that looked godawful and she wasn’t even going to chance a guess at, a package of dental dams, a variety pack of flavored Magnums, and an economy size bottle of lube.

  Well, he certainly took sex to a whole ‘nother level. At least he was safe about it, she reasoned.

  Seeing his toys made Talia reflect on her own plain vanilla sexual history and blush. Since the divorce, she’d spent some time browsing online, so she wasn’t completely in the dark about what people did when they wanted to spice things up in the bedroom. It was just that she’d never experienced any of it personally. Just thinking of Tuck using any number of those things on her made her insides flare and her thighs clench.

  Not one to be a prude, she wasn’t opposed to trying anything at least once, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her a little nervous. The unknown had a way of making even the toughest stomach take a brief nosedive.

  The dildo, she thought as she shoved the drawer closed and pushed off the floor to claim a seat on the side of the bed. Of all the equipment he had, it was the most familiar and probably the tamest.

  And she was getting ahead of herself, right? Assuming that he was going to jump her bones and get all freaky on top of it. But he didn’t look like the type to play it sweet, she thought to herself next. You just met him, after all, and you’re in his room, waiting for him to come back and make good on his promise.

  Man, those lips. Recalling the way they felt on hers, soft and silky but equally hard and demanding at the same time, nearly had her panting. The man knew how to kiss, that was for sure. If they did nothing else beyond that kiss, she’d still be feeling it for days, it was that good.

  What the hell was she thinking? Just a kiss? No, she did not put her life and career on the line for just a kiss, dammit, no matter how mind-melting, bone-liquefying, and earth-shattering it was.

  A streak of determination whisked through her, and Talia sat up straight, her gaze fixing on the open bathroom door. Why should she just sit there and wait for him to call the shots? If she were a man and in his position, she’d take complete control of the situation, just as she expected he was planning to do.

  Well, instead of putting all the decision-making into his hands and leaving the night up to chance, Talia was going to make for damn sure that she got something out of the transaction—whether that be sex and information, or just sex, it didn’t really matter. She wasn’t walking away empty-handed.

  Kicking off her shoes, she pulled off her shirt as she made her way into the bathroom, laying the groundwork for what she hoped would be an unforgettable night with each dropped item that landed in a haphazard heap on the floor as she went—just like little breadcrumbs. When she reached the shower, naked as the day she was born aside from the mischievous smile that stretched across her face, Talia cranked on the water and stepped under the hot spray.

  ***

  Talia was soaping her breasts when she heard the click of the bedroom door closing. It was faint, easily something that could go unnoticed, but she had been keeping both ears open for Tuck’s return. Now that he was back, she was ready to offer herself up like a prized pig at the county fair. Not that letting him feast on her would be much of a sacrifice. More like an offering, she thought with a self-deprecating smile. She’d had plenty of time to work herself into a lather, and it wasn’t the kind that came from a bar of soap.

  Hearing a distant rustle of what she assumed to be clothing being removed, she felt her heart rate increase along with her excitement. One of the many things she enjoyed about her job had always been the short-lived adrenalin spike she experienced in tense situations. And this was a tense situation if ever she’d been in one. If she allowed herself to analyze it too closely, she could almost feel ashamed for being so aroused by what was clearly a dangerous situation, not to mention one that was fueled by deception.

  In a perfect world, Tucker Abrams would be the good guy with a heart of gold, and there wouldn’t be a gulf of lies between them.

  But that wasn’t the case, now, was it?

  No, and Talia would do well to remember that. Sex in exchange for information. That was the goal tonight. She would feel him out, both physically and verbally, and once he was asleep, she would expand her search to the rest of the compound. If she was lucky, she’d dig up something juicy. If Lady Luck wasn’t on her side, she’d likely turn up dead in the morning.

  Oh, the things she was willing to do for her country!

  Speaking of country…

  Talia focused the whole of her attention on what was going on out in the room, but she could hear nothing over the noise of the rushing water. Wondering what the holdup was, she lifted her chin and called out, “I hope you don’t mind me using your shower. I thought I’d freshen up for you. But now that you’re back, maybe you want to join me? We can take turns washing each other.”

  The offer hung in the air, unanswered. Talia frowned, unsure what to make of the continued silence. Was he pissed that she was using his facilities, or had she simply misheard and he hadn’t returned at all?

  A shiver of unease snaked down her spine as Talia peeled back the corner of the shower curtain and poked her head out. A thick blanket of steam hung in the air, creating a bank of fluffy white clouds between her and the doorway, but through the haze, she was able to make out the steady gray form of a person standing there.

  “Hey, you,” she greeted. “I was starting to wonder if I was going crazy. So, are you going to stand there all day staring, or are you going to join me? Tuck…?”

  Her voice trailed off, and when he didn’t answer, Talia’s stomach lurched, the warning bells clanging in her ears. With alarming clarity, something inside her told her that whoev
er that was, it wasn’t Tuck.

  Narrowing her eyes, she sized up the figure, realizing that it was much too short and thin to be him. In fact, it looked more like a—

  “Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing in Country’s room?” The reedy female voice carried easily over the shower’s spray. It’s sharp, high pitch instantly sent Talia’s hackles up in warning, and she suddenly regretted her decision to take a shower. Being naked and alone in a biker sanctuary was not an ideal position to be in when confronted with what she assumed to be a jilted ex. Unless she was his old lady? If that was the case, shit just got real, and that whole dead by sunrise thing just might become a reality.

  Instinct told her to keep her cool. Years of training reminded her to present strength and confidence and to prepare for anything.

  With a steady hand, Talia reached down and shut off the water. “I’m Talia, and you are?” she deadpanned as she reached for the midnight towel hanging on the wall. As if she had no qualms about being buck naked in front of a foaming-at-the-mouth stranger while deep within hostile territory.

  “I’m asking the questions here, bitch. Now, what are you doing in here?”

  “Taking a shower?” she said, knowingly pushing the limits of the woman’s patience. As she wrapped herself in the towel and stepped out onto the plush bathmat, the fog shifted, allowing Talia a clearer image of the woman she was facing off against. Her assessment was quick and to the point: pretty, petite, and untamed. Whoever she was, she was wild, and in Talia’s experience, wild meant unpredictable.

  She definitely wasn’t planning to make any sudden movements.

  “Look, I’m sure you heard that Country and I had a little disagreement, but you should know that he and I ain’t over. Trust me, many women have tried and failed, so whatever you thought was going to happen here tonight, isn’t.”

  Well, that didn’t sound the least bit threatening, did it? And in the words of Shakespeare himself, Talia couldn’t help thinking the lady doth protest too much.