Rough Justice (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #1)(68)
Incapable of rational thought, operating solely on instinct, he reached out and she slapped his hand away.
Denied, Jagger rumbled a warning.
“You can send some guards.” She reached behind her to push his coffee cup away and her thin cotton tank top stretched taut over her breasts. A noise erupted from his throat, part growl, part groan, all desire.
Arianne gave him a cheeky smile. “Hungry?”
He licked his lips, contemplating which part of her he wanted to taste first. “Not for food.”
“Maybe you could come, too.” She trailed a finger along his jaw, and Jagger clasped it and drew it into his mouth. She tasted of sex and honey, and his cock throbbed beneath his fly.
“You want me to come?”
Her eyes flashed and a slow, sensual smile spread across her face. She lifted her other leg and placed her foot on his seat between his thighs, her toes only a whisper away from the bulge in his crotch. Her words came out in a sensual purr. “Yes, baby. I want you to come.”
How unseemly would it be for an MC president to f*ck his woman over the kitchen table while the brothers were talking outside? He drummed his thumb on the arm of his chair, considering. What if he just threw her over his shoulder and carried her upstairs? Probably better for appearances. Not that he was ashamed of his cock, but anything under Arianne’s clothes was for his eyes alone.
“Upstairs. Now.”
“Party. Later.” She wiggled her toes, easing them closer to his throbbing erection. Christ. If she didn’t stop, he would have her naked and over that table before she could say “saucy temptress.”
“I’ll set something up.”
She slid her toes closer and bit her lip, her eyes darkening to forest green. “Something’s already up, it seems.”
He gripped the armrest of the chair so hard, his knuckles turned white. “The Sinners own three bars and a strip joint in town. You choose one, I’ll close it down. You can have it all to yourselves.”
“It won’t be fun without any guys.” She tilted her head to the side and gave him a beseeching look. “Dawn’s friends are mostly single.”
The chair seemed to vibrate under his body as he fought for calm. Not here. Not in the kitchen. Not with lust raging through his veins. “You want guys,” he said, struggling to keep his voice even. “I’ll get you guys. Safe guys. You tell me how many you want. I can send all the Sinners, although some will come with old ladies attached, and if that’s not enough, I can call up the support clubs.”
“Bikers? Dawn’s friends are pretty straitlaced compared to her.”
Losing the battle for self-control, Jagger reached up and cupped Arianne’s chin in his palm, then pulled her down for a kiss, savoring the sweetness of her mouth. “I’ll make sure the brothers know. They’ll behave like perfect gentlemen.”
“Yeah, right. What about drinks?” She ran her tongue along the seam of his lips, and his cock strained in his jeans as he invited her in, tangling his tongue with hers, tasting her sweetness.
“Since we can’t go where we want to go,” she murmured against his lips, “drinks should be free.”
Ravenous, he pulled her off the table and onto his lap, nuzzling the soft skin of her throat. Her scent of sex and wildflowers made him crazed, and willing to do almost anything to get her back upstairs.
“You’re pushing it, but if you ask real nice, I might consider a discount.”
“How nice?” She rocked against him, grinding her * into his erection.
“This nice.” He ran his thumb over her bottom lip, forcing her mouth open, then up over the bow before sliding his thumb inside.
Arianne closed her lips around him and sucked hard, stroking him with her tongue.
A low, guttural sound erupted from his throat, and he licked his lips, his gaze riveted on her mouth as she worked his thumb until his cock throbbed in time to her every pull. “Fuck yes. My girl’s got a dirty mouth.”
Arianne pulled away and smiled. “It gets dirtier if the drinks are free.”
*
“Riders Bar?” Zane gave Jagger an incredulous look. “You want to close down Riders?”
“We’re not closing it down. Just limiting admission to Arianne and her friends and any of our brothers who want to go.”
“How many girls?” Cade leaned back in his chair in their new executive board meeting room, a dining room in their new and soon-to-be renovated clubhouse. The long polished oak table was large enough to accommodate twelve brothers and the room could hold at least a dozen more chairs if the board needed to bring in guests or advisors as they often did.
“About thirty. But she wanted me to point out that they aren’t all lays.”
Gunner cracked a smile. “They’re all lays if you treat them right.”
Zane tapped his pen on the polished wood table, and Jagger groaned inwardly. Zane would never challenge him in front of the executive board, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t feel free to share his thoughts the minute the room cleared. And apparently he had thoughts. Lots of ’em.
Hoping to deflect Zane’s concerns, Jagger pushed himself out of his chair and paced the room. “We just blew up the Jacks’ ice house, claimed Viper’s daughter, and injured six of his men. The Jacks will be out for blood, and things are going to get ugly. We need to celebrate when we can. Last night was just blowing off steam. We need to do something big, invite a few clubs we want to patch over. Word will get around. Viper’s licking his wounds and we’re boozing it up.”