Undeniable (Undeniable, #1)(17)

He swiveled around, his narrowed eyes swept over the blonde, across the room, and then finally to me. And stared.

He had let his beard grow out; there were signs of gray interspersed among the blond and a few lines around his eyes. I sucked in a breath. He’d grown even more beautiful with age.

“Gotta go,” he said into his phone and tossed it on the desk.

I cleared my throat. “I was in the neighborhood,” I said dumbly. “Thought I’d stop by.”

“You were in the neighborhood,” he repeated.

I nodded. Wow. I was such an idiot. If she’d heard this, Kami would have kicked my ass.

“Cole,” the woman hissed. “Who the f*ck is this girl?”

I have never heard anyone call Deuce anything but Deuce. I knew his real name, Cole West, but it didn’t fit. Deuce, meaning “Devil,” fit him.

Deuce blinked and looked back at the blonde. “Get the f*ck outta here, Christine. You got your f*ckin’ money, now go.”

He glanced back at me, and I watched his icy blues drink me in from head to toe and back up again, stopping on his father’s medallion. His lips curved into a smile.

I felt my body go soft, warm, and needy. He did this to me just by looking at me. His power over me was incredible and indescribable, as it had always been. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t seen him in four years; I wanted him every bit as badly as the last time and the time before that. Even more because I had him and had craved him ever since.

He saw the change in me, noticed it instantly. His nostrils flared, and his eyes darkened with hunger. I knew this look. Deuce was hungry, and I was food.

I loved that look. It made me feel beautiful, powerful, and utterly feminine.

I sucked in air through my nose, willing myself to stay put when I wanted nothing more than to run to him, strip him naked, and f*ck him blind.

“You here alone?” he asked roughly.

I shook my head. “Brought Kami with me.”

His eyes narrowed, and I stifled a laugh. He obviously remembered her.

“Where is she?”

“Entertaining a few of your boys.”

He smirked. “Cox?”

“And Ripper.”

He rolled his eyes. “Nice.”

“Cole! Who the f*ck is this bitch, and why the f*ck is she wearin’ a Horsemen tag?”

His head swiveled back to Christine. “What the f*ck did I say to you? Get the f*ck outta here!”

Her face went arctic. Glacial. “No,” she hissed. “Tell me why this little girl is standin’ in your office wearin’ a Horsemen tag! Old ladies don’t get ’em. Kids don’t get ’em unless they get a cut, and ain’t no girl ever got a cut. And whores sure as f*ck don’t get ’em. So why the f*ck does this bitch have one?!”

Deuce stood up. His Harley belt buckle sagged low on his low-rise, baggy jeans, jeans that were as equally holey as his white T-shirt. To quote Kami, H-O-T.

“Get out,” he growled.

“TELL ME WHY SHE’S WEARIN’ IT!”

Deuce’s fists came slamming down on his desk, sending papers and file folders flying everywhere. “Because I f*ckin’ gave it to her!”

Christine’s head snapped sideways. “You little f*ckin’ whore!” she screamed.

My mouth fell open, and I took a step backward. This was exactly why my father didn’t allow his boys’ old ladies in the club unless it was a planned visit or a Sunday barbeque.

“Christine!” Deuce bellowed. “Take the money you came for and get your f*ckin’ ass outta here!”

Ignoring Deuce, she kept her frightening gaze on me. “What the f*ck did you have to do to get that?” she hissed. “You some kinda kinky f*cked-up whore who takes on three brothers at a time? Was that your f*ckin’ prize for being such a goddamn slut, for f*ckin’ other women’s men? You f*ckin’ proud of yourself, you stupid little skank bitch?”

Wow. Just…wow. How did one respond to that?

I looked to Deuce for help. I didn’t know what to do or say or if I should do or say anything at all. This hadn’t gone at all like I planned. Not that I actually planned on anything specific happening—only vague scenarios, all including Deuce without pants on and being really happy to see me. Being screamed at by Deuce’s wife, I can honestly say, hadn’t crossed my mind.

“Christine,” he growled low. Scary low. “Only gonna say this one more time. Get your f*ckin’ ass outta my club.”

“I’m gonna bleed you dry,” she hissed. “Gonna take everything you f*ckin’ have. Gonna take your kids, your money, and when I tell the f*ckin’ cops what goes on ’round here, I’m gonna take your f*ckin’ freedom.”

This had gone past uncomfortable and well into hazardous. I should have never come here. Since they were busy glaring at each other, I started backing out of the room and backed right into a hard body.

The biker standing behind me I recognized. His name was Mick, and I had seen him here and there growing up. His messy black hair hung long. He had pretty green eyes and a well-trimmed goatee. He was tall, leanly muscled, and looked extremely pissed off.

“Prez?” he asked. “You need help with this bitch?”

Deuce was rounding his desk and advancing on Christine. She met him head on, swinging her purse through the air. He ducked, grabbed her purse strap, and barreled into her. She went up and over his shoulder, screaming and flailing.