Sinner's Steel (Sinner's Tribe Motorcycle Club #3)(59)

Consumed with desire, he released her and led her out of the shop and into the hallway leading outside. With a low growl, he shoved her up against the wall between the stairwell and the washroom, then yanked her dress up over her hips.

“Zane!”

Heedless of her cry, he pushed her silky panties aside and pressed a finger into her wet heat, angling his body to keep that particular intimacy hidden from anyone who might be watching.

“You’re so f*cking wet.”

“And you’re so f*cking sexy.” She rocked her hips against his finger.

Christ, was there anything hotter than his woman needing him? Zane’s blood pooled in his groin. He would give her what she wanted and more. When he’d first arrived at the shop this evening, he’d been off-kilter, still thrown by her withdrawal the night before and the mess he’d made of the morning with Ty. But now, with Evie willing and responsive to his touch, he felt grounded. In control.

“He removed his finger and replaced it with two, parting her thighs with a gentle nudge of his knee.

“Oh, God.” Her nails dug into his forearm as he thrust his fingers deep into her wetness. “Is this what happens at all the Sinner parties?”

“I wouldn’t know. Usually I take watch.” He rubbed his fingers along her sensitive inner walls, and her * tightened around him.

“They must have been … surprised … to see you … tonight.” She stammered, breathless, close to climax, her body trembling.

“More like shock.” He slowed his thrusts, teasing her with light, shallow strokes, taking her down so he could send her higher, make her scream. “Never brought a woman to the club either, so they got a double dose.”

Her head fell back against the wall and she moaned. “I feel flattered.”

“What else do you feel, sweetheart?” He added a third finger and thrust in so deep her breath caught in her throat.

“I feel like I need to come.”

“Soon. But not here.” He withdrew his fingers, wiping her wetness along her inner thigh so she would have something to remember as they made their way upstairs. “I don’t want to share any more of you than you’ve already shared with my brothers.”

“Yo! Zane.” A highly inebriated Tank stumbled toward them as Zane steered Evie toward the stairwell, his mind focused on getting her naked and upstairs as quickly as possible.

“Not now, brother.”

“Where’s Connie tonight?” Oblivious to Zane’s scowl, Tank leaned against the wall and took a swig from the beer bottle in his hand.

Blushing, Evie reached out to steady him. “She’s with her grandmother in in Joilet.”

Tank leaned closer, slurring his words. “She’s one hot chick.”

“Back off.” Zane shoved Tank in the chest. “Maintain a perimeter.”

“Hey, brother. We were just having a conversation.” Tank jerked away from Zane’s touch and the beer in his hand splashed over Evie’s dress.

“Jesus. Fuck.” Without thinking, Zane hauled back and punched Tank in the face. Control around Evie, it seemed, was fleeting.

Evie gasped as Tank staggered back and into the shop, Zane following him. People scattered. Someone chanted “Fight! Fight!” and a space cleared around them. Unlike civilian parties, fights were expected and, in fact, encouraged at biker events.

Tank recovered quickly and launched himself at Zane, who stepped neatly to the side, sending Tank sailing in the crowd. Sparky and Gunner lifted Tank and pushed him back into the ring. He spun around and scowled. “I didn’t mean any offense, f*ck-wit.”

“Offense taken.” Zane hit him again, landing a punch in Tank’s stomach. Tank retaliated with a quick thrust kick, followed by a sequence of punches that had Zane reeling.

“Zane. Please. Stop. He didn’t mean it,” Evie shouted. But now that his tension had found an outlet, Zane wasn’t interested in stopping until Tank was on the ground.

Of course, Tank was so named for a reason and he absorbed blow after blow, until Zane’s wrists ached from the effort of trying to knock him down.

In a last-ditch attempt to end the fight, Tank ran at Zane, picking up speed as he crossed the floor to the cheers of the drunken crowd. He plowed into Zane, carrying him back with his shoulder and straight into the wall.

Jesus. Fuck. He was so not going to lose this fight with Evie and the brothers watching.

“Stand down.” Jagger pushed his way through the crowd, but Zane was already in motion.

Fuck Jagger and the rules. Fuck Tank for making him lose control. Just. Fuck. He pounded his fist into Tank’s sternum, grunting his satisfaction when Tank dropped to his knees.

“I said stand down, brother.” Jagger got in his face, shielding Tank with his body. But Zane was too wound up to stand down. Vulnerable, raw and exposed, his control already stretched thin by his decision to bare his personal life to his brothers, he hauled back, ready to punch Jagger, although the repercussions would be severe. But before he could let loose, Evie grabbed his hand.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m okay. But you won’t be if you throw that punch. Even I know there’s no going back if you hit Jagger.” She kept her voice low as he allowed her to back him away from Jagger, away from Tank and the fight he didn’t want, away from the shop and into the hallway.