Reaper's Fall (Reapers MC, #5)(24)



“She’s with me,” he said. Em and Kit exchanged looks, and Jessica managed to hide her disappointment, running a hand up and along Mr. Tattoo’s shoulder.

“I’d love to ride with you,” she said, turning on the full charm. It was almost creepy, how quickly she dropped the good-girl facade. I’d forgotten how fast she worked.

Jess might be older and smarter, but she was still Jess.

It only took about five minutes to reach the fairgrounds, although it was enough time for me to establish that Taz had very nice abs. Volunteers on horseback had us park in a big, empty field back behind the horse barns. There were already at least thirty bikes there, guarded by prospects from the Reapers, the Silver Bastards, and the Devil’s Jacks. Taz caught my hand as we walked toward the gate, casually possessive in a way that both thrilled and scared me. Ultimately he wasn’t the guy I wanted, and I didn’t want to lead him on . . . but what kind of woman doesn’t enjoy a hot guy holding her hand in public? Could you be more superficial? Doubtful. Crap. I should probably end this before it turned into anything, I decided. I tugged on his hand.

“Can we talk for a minute?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said, stepping to the side so the others could pass. Jess cocked a brow at me but I ignored her.

“What’s up?” Taz asked. I looked up at him, taking in his nearly perfect features, that sexy hair still pulled back, and the way his eyes all but oozed sex. Had I lost my mind, turning this guy down?

Probably.

“Um . . . I guess there’s no easy way to say this, but I was really drunk last night,” I started. He gave me a gentle smile.

“Picked up on that.”

I felt myself blushing—I should never drink like that again. I knew that compared to some people, it hadn’t been very bad, but I hated feeling so out of control. My dad was always doing stupid shit when he was drunk.

I was better than that . . . at least, I wanted to be better than that. Right after I made it through this trip to the fair.

“So I’m not really looking for a relationship,” I started. Taz’s smile grew wider.

“Works for me. I’m just trying to get laid,” he said bluntly, and while you’d think his words would’ve been offensive, somehow—from him—it just felt like he was shooting straight with me. “And I already know I’m not getting anywhere with you. But your little roommate is hot for it, and it’s driving her crazy that I’m with you. Painter’ll probably be out here later, so you can piss him off by hanging on me. Right about the time he loses his shit and hauls you off, she’ll be ready and willing to comfort me in my sorrow. It’s win-win, really.”

I gaped at him.

“I can’t believe you just told me that,” I said finally. “That’s pretty shameless.”

“Shame isn’t really my thing,” he said, radiating cocky confidence. “Just roll with it, babe. We’ll have a good time, and then you’ll go home with Painter while I nail your roomie.”

I blinked.

“You realize I’m totally going to warn her about you,” I finally managed to say. He smiled, pure sin on a stick. Or would that be sin with a stick? Heh.

“I’m counting on it,” he said. “She likes trouble—I can tell. It’ll turn her on, challenge her. The more you warn her, the easier it’ll be.”

I frowned, trying to decide how that made me feel.

“Let’s go,” he said. “I’m hungry, and Em says the BBQ out here is incredible. I’ll even buy you dinner. Sound good?”

I nodded, still confused. I wasn’t sure how to deal with this, but he was right about one thing . . . fair BBQ was the shit, and damned if I wasn’t hungry.





CHAPTER SIX





PAINTER

The fair sucked.

Taz had shown up with Melanie at his side, and I’d spent the last two hours wandering the exhibit tents, watching them and festering, because he was doing everything he could to f*ck with me.

Cockwad.

Whenever she turned away, he’d thrust his hips toward her or pretend to grab her ass. Flick his tongue. Squeeze his dick. Nothing but a damned pervert. Hunter was in on it, too, taunting me quietly whenever he had the chance. My own brothers were f*cking useless. Horse just rolled his eyes, and when we finally headed into the BBQ tent for dinner, Ruger pointed out that if I didn’t have the balls to claim her, I should let it go.

God help me, if these f*ckers were supposed to be my backup, I’d do better on my own. The night was f*cking endless. I could give two shits about rodeo—thought it was decent entertainment, but I wouldn’t be out here if it wasn’t for Melanie. I kept trying to catch her eye, but she wouldn’t look at me. I knew she was aware, though, because she kept blushing. Probably embarrassed about last night. Fair enough . . . But the longer I watched her with Taz, the harder it was to keep my distance.

She deserved a man who was perfect, and that f*cker didn’t qualify.

At least the food was good. There were a hundred different places to eat around the fairgrounds, but the BBQ had to be the best. If I needed proof I was f*cked in the head, it came when I reached the line. There was a pretty little thing ahead of me who kept bumping into me “accidentally.” I’d be all over that if I weren’t completely focused on Mel, and the fact that Taz couldn’t keep his f*cking hands off her.

Joanna Wylde's Books