Rough Justice (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #1)(23)
“Cool it with the doe eyes and dreamy smile.” Dawn reached over the bar and pinched Arianne’s arm. “You’ve spent your life trying to get away from bikers. Just ignore him and he’ll go away.”
“I don’t think he’s the kind of man who just goes away.”
“Maybe not.” Dawn licked her lips. “He’s got the ‘king of the castle’ thing goin’ on there. Lookit those Devil Dogs fawning over him. I wouldn’t be surprised if they drop to the floor and lick his—” She cut herself off with a gasp. “Sweet mother of hotness. It’s Thor.” Dawn gestured to a tall biker with shoulder-length blond hair walking toward the table. “Maybe I spoke too soon. In fact, I did speak too soon. You should definitely go and talk to him, and while you’re there, you can find out who his friend is. The blond with the body made for sin. That boy could turn a good girl bad.”
“I saw him at the meeting,” Arianne said. She’d told Dawn about everything except Jeff’s possible involvement in burning down the clubhouse. “He’s on the executive board, but I didn’t catch his name.”
“Well, we’re gonna catch it right now.” Dawn grabbed her tray. “You talk. I’ll take orders and drool. And to think I wasted time on a man like Eugene.”
“Eugene?” Arianne tried, but failed to keep a straight face. “Your dating website disaster? You texted me from the restaurant for an emergency call thirty seconds after you sat down, and I picked you up ten minutes later. There wasn’t much time wasted that evening.”
Dawn shuddered. “That ten minutes felt like ten years. He brayed when he laughed. And his lips peeled back. Did I tell you he had horse teeth?”
“You Instagrammed his teeth, so everyone knew.”
“But it was okay.” Dawn had the good grace to blush. “He wasn’t into social media. He had no friends, so he couldn’t be embarrassed, and I didn’t use his real name. Just his teeth.”
“That’s right.” Laughter bubbled in her chest. “You nicknamed him ‘the Italian Stallion.’”
Her tension eased momentarily as they shared a laugh, but when she caught Jagger watching them, a delicious shiver wound up her spine. Why did he have to be a biker?
“I’m not paying you two to laugh.” Banks joined them at the bar and scowled. “Dawn, I need you at the table near the dance floor. And Arianne, looks like we got some thirsty bikers in the corner. Get over there and take their orders. I’ll watch the bar till you’re back. Daisy went home ’cause she wasn’t feeling well, so we’re short-staffed tonight.”
Arianne’s pulse kicked up a notch. Aside from taking Jagger’s order, what was she going to say? Fancy meeting you here? Planning to kidnap me again? Nice to see you took me up on my invitation?
“What if they’re here because they figured out who I am?” She kept her voice low as she fished under the counter for a notepad.
“They don’t know who you are?” Dawn gave her an incredulous glance. “No wonder they let you go.”
“Exactly.”
Dawn’s gaze flicked to the bikers and then back to Arianne. “They don’t seem to be in a kidnapping kinda mood. My guess is the Dogs want to patch over, and they’re meeting the Sinners to hash over the details. Only time you ever see that kinda boot-licking going on.”
“You’re probably right.” Arianne had seen dozens of clubs come begging for Viper’s protection and the power of his patch, but he was discriminating to a fault, preferring to grow the club organically rather than inherit men who didn’t make the cut. The Devil Dogs had the same hungry look as the prospecting clubs that had come to visit the Jacks, but unlike the Jacks, the Sinners would likely patch them over.
“What’s the worst that can happen?” Dawn said. “It’s not like you don’t know your way around bikers. Or dangerous men. Or biker presidents who are the epitome of dangerous men.”
Maybe so, but she sure as hell didn’t know her way around men so utterly compelling as Jagger. She’d always kept her relationships safe, dating easygoing, eager-to-please beta males. Men she could control. And strictly civilians. She had no interest in getting involved with a biker. Ever. So why drag her feet when she had a job to do?
“Fine. I’ll go.” Arianne flipped open her notepad and navigated her way through the bar to the now rowdy tables in the corner.
She didn’t have to look up to know Jagger was watching her. She could feel his gaze burning into her skin, but instead of intimidating her, his frank interest made her bold. Lifting her head, she shook off her fear, and met his stare full-on, smiling before she dropped her gaze. Confident, not challenging. That was the key.
And from the smile that spread across his lips when she reached the table, she could tell she’d played it just right.
“Vexy.” The deep rumble of his voice vibrated through her body, sending a rush of heat straight to her core. He’d remembered to use her road name.
“Nice to see you again.” And she meant it. She’d been fantasizing about him all week, mentally stripping off his clothes, running her hands over the breadth of his shoulders, his massive chest, those taut abs, and then lower, tugging off his belt, her own heat rising as she ripped open his fly. Power, barely contained, beneath her, above her. Inside—