Rough Justice (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #1)(58)

Two nights after the incident at the pool hall, Jagger got a call that put an end to his plan to spend yet another night showing Arianne what it meant to be his.

Raw instinct burned inside him as he watched her fueling his bike. He’d been hard since met her at Banks Bar and treated her to a preview of what was to come against the brick wall at the back of the bar.

Entirely her fault. Usually he had no problem exercising restraint, but when his little minx had whispered in his ear all the naughty things she’d been fantasizing about all day and then let him feel just how wet those fantasies had made her, he had to have her right then. Up went the skirt. Off went the panties. Pop went the buttons on her blouse. And he’d taken her as rough and hard as she’d begged him to do. Yeah, he liked it dirty, but nothing turned him on more than a woman who knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to tell him.

She’d also let him know what she thought of his plan to let the prospects take her vehicle home from the parking lot behind Banks Bar, but he would only yield so far. He wanted her on his bike, her soft body tucked up against him. Safe from Viper and Axle, but not safe from him.

A truck rumbled by and he walked away from the pumps so he didn’t miss anything Gunner had to say. He knew the news would have to be bad for Gunner to call, but he wasn’t prepared for a total disaster.

A panicked Gunner gave him the details. The team was at the Black Jacks ice house. Everything was prepped and ready to go, but Bandit had let them down. Axle’s protégé hadn’t been able to set the explosives, and now they were sitting ducks, up on a hillside, with a stolen truck that was supposed to be rigged to blow. They needed Axle. Or someone with his expertise, and they needed him now. The window of opportunity between shift changes was closing. What did Jagger want him to do?

Jagger scrubbed a hand over his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d reneged on a promise. And certainly not a promise to f*ck a woman senseless. Nor could he remember a time he’d wanted a woman so bad, he’d been tempted to put aside his duty to the club and indulge himself simply so he could think straight again.

But he had to go. He had enough munitions experience to rig the truck. Problem was, he would need to take Arianne with him. He had just picked her up from work, and they were only twenty minutes from the ice house. No time to take her back to Sparky’s place and no f*cking way was he leaving her alone in the seedy East side of Conundrum.

He assured Gunner he was on his way, then tucked his phone into the pocket of his cut. Later was going to be even later than he’d planned. As always, duty would have to win out over desire.

“We gotta make a quick detour,” he said when he returned to his bike. “Job’s gone bad. Should only take a few minutes.”

Arianne slid onto the seat behind him. “I’ll entertain myself by thinking naughty thoughts.”

Christ! As if he weren’t hard already. “How ‘bout you think about telling me what was on that piece of paper Bunny gave you the other night?”

After Arianne had sunk the eight ball, Bunny handed over a piece of paper with the greatest reluctance—and only after Jagger and Cade had disarmed his bodyguards and left them moaning on the floor. Clearly Bunny never intended to give Arianne the information he had been forced to hand over at gunpoint. Jagger didn’t want to think about what Bunny had planned for her, but he’d left a few of the brothers behind to make sure Bunny got the message that Arianne was now under Sinner protection.

He’d fully expected Arianne to tell him why she’d gone to Bunny in the first place. But she’d tucked the paper away, and every time he raised the question, she gave him that cool smile he had come to realize meant the subject was closed for discussion. He’d indulged her for two days now, and this would be the last time he’d ask … nicely.

Twenty minutes later, they joined Gunner and his team at the top of a grassy hill overlooking the Black Jacks’ darkened warehouse. Although she stopped mid-stride when she saw the ice house in the distance, and the truck set to blow it sky high, Arianne made no comment other than that it might be better if she stayed with the bikes. A sound decision, given the questioning glances being exchanged between the brothers on the job.

It took him less than five minutes to diagnose the problem and thirty seconds to rewire the explosives. Bandit apologized profusely, but Jagger held only himself to blame. Bandit had worked with Axle on only a handful of jobs, and he should have known better than to send out his brother with no mentor to guide him.

“You ready for the block?” Gunner lifted a concrete slab from the back of the cage, and Jagger nodded. They had only to drop the block on the accelerator, lock the steering wheel, and let the truck fly.

“Where the f*ck is Cade?” Gunner grunted as he walked the block over to the truck. “He’s supposed to be sharing the load.”

Zane looked up and grinned, his teeth shining white in the semidarkness. “I’ll bet he’s banging Arianne’s friend again.”

“Jesus Christ.” Sparky closed the truck’s hood. “Has there ever been a day he wasn’t banging some chick? I swear, the minute he walks into a room, they’re all over him.”

Gunner heaved the block into the truck. “They’re not all over me, and I’m just as good-lookin’ as him.”

“Except you have no hair,” Wheels called out from his vantage position on the rise.