Reaper's Stand (Reapers MC, #4)(8)

I stepped into the office but didn’t go so far as to walk over and offer my hand for him to shake.

There’s only so much a woman can handle at once.

Hayes gave me the same look he always gave me. Calculating. Hungry with just a hint of speculation as his eyes swept down my body. He lingered a bit on my breasts, but didn’t make a show of it. Nope. He was all business, except for the uncomfortable fact that a woman was actively giving him a blow job. I swallowed, feeling my cheeks flush.

His eyes flickered back up to mine.

“What can I do for you?” he asked, his voice low and gravelly. Sexy. I shivered, because I could think of all kinds of things I’d like him to do for me. Maybe even to me, although I hated to admit it. It’d been a long six years, and I hadn’t slept with Nate yet . . . We’d been dating for nearly two months, but between our schedules we didn’t get to see each other all that often. Hell of a dry spell.

I forced myself to consider Hayes’s question seriously, despite the squelching, squishy noises coming from his lap. How did that woman keep sucking on him like that, oblivious to what was going on? It was very distracting.

“You needed something, sweetheart?” Hayes asked again, taking a swig of his beer. “If you’re here to join in, fine, but otherwise come sit down and tell me what you want.”

Join in?

My cheeks radiated heat and I knew I was lost. I’d done so well staying matter-of-fact up to this point, but there are limits. Just get it over with! Then you can go home and have a very large glass of wine.

I’d need a bucket to hold all the wine I’d be drinking tonight, I decided.

“I’m looking for my cousin’s daughter. She lives with me.”

“Have a seat,” he told me again. Gage gave a laughing snort behind me, shutting the door on us. I glanced down at the couch, an old plaid monstrosity that had to be twenty years old. With my luck, I’d catch a disease from it.

“I can stand.”

“Sit. Down.”

His voice snapped, and I felt myself tremble. Reese Hayes was a scary man. He’d been playing nice so far, but I was all too aware of the rumors surrounding him. Nate was a sheriff’s deputy, and he was full of stories about the Reapers, particularly their president. I’d blown him off, because the MC were good clients and I figured he was just prejudiced against them. No criminal gang could just exist in the middle of the community so openly, could it? Looking at Hayes now, I realized those stories might have been true after all.

His eyes were like cold chips of blue ice, and the hint of gray at his temples and in the scruff covering his chin gave him an air of authority that I wanted to obey almost instinctively. His arms were thick, banded with heavy muscles, and his thighs . . . I glanced away quickly, because those thick thighs of his framed the half-naked woman sucking his penis perfectly. Like I’d walked into a particularly high-definition porn shoot.

I wanted to die.

Under the best of circumstances this man made me uncomfortable, and I’d done my best to avoid him. So far I’d done a pretty good job, too—wasn’t like he hung around Pawns in the evenings when my crew came in. Well, sometimes he did, but he stayed back in the office.

Maybe that was where he did his money laundering?

Feeling just a smidge hysterical, I wondered exactly how one would go about washing money. I flashed briefly on a vision of Hayes working an old-fashioned, crank-handled washing machine while a group of aproned bikers carefully hung hundred-dollar bills on clotheslines in a sunny meadow.

“Babe?”

I blinked, trying to remember why the hell I’d thought this could be a good idea.

“Yes?”

“Are you gonna sit down or not?” he asked.

“I’m really uncomfortable with”—I gestured toward the woman—“this.”

“That’s not exactly my problem,” he said, dropping a hand to rest on her head. “But if it’s an issue, you can take her place.”

“No,” I said quickly.

“Then sit the f*ck down and tell me why you’re here.”

His voice tightened, and I realized he was running out of patience. Fair enough—he obviously had other things on his . . . ahem . . . mind. I carefully perched on the edge of the couch, facing the door. This was actually better, I realized. I didn’t have to look at him now. Although I could feel the woman’s movements through the furniture frame and that was very creepy.

“My cousin’s daughter is somewhere at this party,” I said quickly. “Her name is Jessica, and she has very poor judgment. I’d really like to get her out of here and home before she does something completely stupid.”

Like set the building on fire.

“You got shit timing.”

I didn’t respond, because what the hell would I say? So far as I knew, Hallmark didn’t make a “Sorry I Interrupted Your Oral Sex” card.

Maybe I should write their corporate office to suggest it?

Hayes grunted, and the movement of the couch stopped.

“Go find Gage,” he muttered to the woman, who pulled free with a smacking noise I really, really didn’t need to hear. A second later she stood and wiped her mouth, glaring at me. I shrugged, offering a faintly apologetic smile. The couch trembled again as Hayes shifted, and for one horrible minute I thought he was actually going to grab me and push me down into her place. Then I heard the sound of a zipper.