Reaper's Stand (Reapers Motorcycle Club Book 4)(30)

I needed to get rid of him and go talk to Jessie.

Call Nate.

Be a good girl.

“He says Deputy Dick has problems following the rules,” Hayes murmured, pulling free of my mouth. His lips traced along my jaw, nipping and sucking. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t do anything, because all I could think about was ripping off his clothes and jumping him.

No! Bad London!

“He also says there’s been several complaints about him harassing young girls. Nate ever mention any of that to you? How about Jessica? She have any problems with him?”

His words hit me like a slap across the face, waking me up.

“Shut your mouth.”

He pulled back, his eyes cool and calculating . . . The hard length against my stomach stayed hot, though. And the hands still holding me captive against him?

They burned.

“Maybe you should learn a little more about your boyfriend before getting too involved.”

“Like you have any room to judge?” I hissed, thinking of the girls I’d seen out at the Armory. “Jess doesn’t like Nate because she doesn’t like me having any kind of life outside of her. Just an immature teen being selfish—it doesn’t go any deeper than that.”

“I don’t f*ck anyone unless they want me to,” he said, slowly shaking his head. “You sure Natie-poo can say the same thing? You seem to think I’m the enemy, but I’ve always been straight up with you. I’m straight up with everyone I stick my cock into.”

“You aren’t sticking your . . .” I clenched my teeth, because I didn’t let myself use words like that. I wouldn’t let him win by tempting me to, either.

“Cock,” he said, relishing the word. “I want to stick my cock into your *. Don’t worry—I’ll get you nice and ready first. Open you up with my fingers, make sure you’re so wet and hot that when you wrap around me, it’ll feel like I’m f*cking a goddess because you’re goddamn perfect, London. I can’t wait to feel your cunt squeezing me. Lick your clit, taste you . . . It’ll be good between us. You know it will.”

My knees weakened—like, weakened for real. Not just a figure of speech. I literally wanted Reese Hayes inside me so badly I had trouble supporting my own weight, which was a huge problem. Then his hand squeezed my butt almost spasmodically, and I saw a hint of sweat start to bead on his forehead.

If Reese Hayes wanted me even half as much as I wanted him . . . Stop thinking about it! I needed him out of here. Now. Before I did something really, truly insane like drag him back into my bedroom and ride him until I completely forgot about Nate.

The man I’d almost had sex with less than an hour ago.

Oh. My. God. When had I become such a faithless slut?

I put up my hands and shoved against his chest—hard—until he let me go. Reese stepped back, holding up his hands, a mocking smile on his face. He obviously saw right through me. My eyes darted away, which was a huge mistake because they caught on his jeans instead. The giant bulge in his pants made me feel even more unsteady, everything melting and mixed up deep inside.

How could this be? Why could a man I didn’t even like drive me crazy like this? Make me doubt Nate, who’d never done a thing to make me suspect him?

You. Have. A. Boyfriend.

I rubbed my face with one hand, leaning back against the wall for support.

“Just go,” I told him, refusing to meet his gaze. Instead I stared at the door, pointedly. “Thank you for bringing Jess home.”

Hayes laughed harshly, the sound a rough rasp along my spine.

“Sleep tight,” he said, tapping the tip of my nose with his finger. Then he casually strolled out the door to his truck, as if he owned the place. I watched him, completely unable to look away from that beautiful butt of his. Why was he so helpful and hateful at the same time? And who was he to imply nasty things about Nate? I didn’t believe it for a minute—Nate was a total gentleman, and if the sheriff wasn’t happy with him, he could just fire him. Hayes was a tainted source. Nobody even pretended the Reapers were on the up-and-up, so why he thought he could get away with making accusations like that I couldn’t imagine.

I shoved the front door shut hard, wood scraping as it settled into the warped frame. Loud music burst suddenly out of Jessica’s room, pushing me over the edge. Stalking down the hallway, I grabbed her doorknob.

Locked.

I pounded on the door and yelled at her, “Open up, Jess! We need to talk.”