Reaper's Stand (Reapers Motorcycle Club Book 4)(12)

“Now ask me nicely to help you,” he said, the words slow and deliberate. I nodded, taking a minute to steel myself.

“Mr. Hayes, will you please help me find my cousin Jessica?”

“No.”

Sudden moisture filled my eyes, and I felt myself quivering. I blinked quickly and forced back the tears through sheer will. I’d be damned if I’d give him any more satisfaction. Silence fell between us, his face six inches from mine, palpable tension hanging in the air. In the distance I heard music and noise from the party, all too aware that I was utterly at his mercy.

“Can I go?” I asked quietly.

“No.”

At least he was direct. I licked my lips nervously and his eyes followed the movement. I couldn’t look at him anymore, so I lowered my gaze.

That was a mistake.

“Lower” was his body, and one glance was enough to tell me that just because he’d sent his girlfriend away didn’t mean he’d lost interest in sex. Nope. Nice big bulge in those jeans.

Yikes.

My eyes skittered away, stopping at the big knife strapped to his leg. A hunting knife. Inside at a party. Nothing scary about that at all, right?

“Convince me to help you,” he said softly, his voice growing smooth, almost silky.

“How?” I whispered.

He chuckled.

“How do you think?”

I closed my eyes, trying to think. Sex. He was talking about sex. Okay. It wasn’t like I didn’t know about sex . . . Was I willing to sleep with a man to find Jessica? Give up on my relationship with Nate?

My gut twisted, because I’d already given up so much for her.

“It’s a very bad idea to mix work and personal business,” I told him. “I’ve got two crews working for you right now. I think getting involved would be a big mistake. Not only that, I’m seeing someone already.”

Hayes gave a low chuckle.

“I don’t want to get involved and I don’t give a shit about your boyfriend. But I wouldn’t mind f*cking your tits—that’d motivate me to help. Your call.”

I gasped.

It wasn’t exactly a secret that I had a decent-sized chest, but I’d never had someone be so . . . crude . . . about it. I didn’t know what to say. My eyes flew around the room, desperate to look at anything but his face hanging over me. Then I spotted a picture up on the file cabinet. A beautiful woman stood next to two teenage girls. Heather Hayes and her daughters. Those girls were grown up and moved out now, one of them in the past year.

Now Hayes lived alone. Inspiration struck.

“Who cleans your house?”

He blinked at me.

“What the f*ck?”

“Who cleans your house?” I asked again, my thoughts coming together quickly. “If you help me find Jessica, I’ll come out to your place and have my crew do a full cleaning, no charge. You can sleep with anyone, but how many of those women can you trust to clean your house?”

He rocked back on his heels, cocking his head at me. A strange light came into his eyes.

“Didn’t see that one coming,” he said, his mouth quirking at one corner. “But any of those girls out there will clean for me.”

“I’ll bet they expect something in return, don’t they?” I asked, sensing I had him. “I’ll bet they want to be your girlfriend or whatever it’s called . . .”

“Old lady.”

“I’ll bet they want to be your old lady,” I continued, getting into it. I leaned forward, willing him to agree with me. “And I bet they get annoying after a while. My crew comes in, we clean, we leave. No stress, no fuss, and no strings attached. How’s that for something of value?”

“Not your crew, just you.”

I frowned at him. He sat back on his heels, seeming relaxed enough, but I still felt the coiled tension in the air.

“All right,” I said, figuring I should stop while I was ahead. I held my hand out and he took it, wrapping his strong fingers around mine. They were warm and solid. I’d bet his arms would be, too.

He didn’t say he wanted to hold you, I reminded myself firmly. He said he wanted to “f*ck your tits,” and that’s a place we don’t need to go.

Obviously I should start sleeping with Nate sooner rather than later, before my hormones destroyed me entirely.

Don’t question. Just find Jessica.

“So what does she look like?” he asked. I dug into my pocket and pulled out my phone, flipping quickly to her graduation picture.