Sinner's Revenge (Sinner's Creed MC #2)(60)

“I have a meeting,” she tells me, but I know it’s hard for her to think about anything with my dick still inside her.

“I don’t give a shit about your meeting,” I say, my voice low and very, very serious.

“Tell me you’ll see me tonight.” Her demand isn’t negotiable. And it’s my pleasure.

“I’ll see you tonight.” I keep my eyes on hers as I pull out of her, then set her on her feet. I pull a bandana from my back pocket and slide it between her legs. The intimate gesture has her eyes softening as she lets out a small sigh. I take longer than I should, and wait until her breathing picks up before I pull away—stuffing the bandana back in my pocket along with what’s left of the panties laying at her feet. Straightening, she starts to collect herself—adjusting her dress and taming her just-f*cked hair. Walking to the dresser, I rummage around until I find some eye drops and a comb and hand them to her. Zipping up my jeans, I watch her in silence as she transforms from a sexy vixen back into the distant woman she was at the warehouse.

Looking devilishly fine, like she wasn’t up against a wall getting her brains f*cked out only minutes ago, she squares her shoulders. Pausing at the door, she turns and looks straight through me. “Wait ten minutes before you come out. No need to confirm everyone’s suspicions.”

There are plenty of things I want to say. But she’s gone before I can answer. So to the closed door, I give a smirk and with amusement say, “Yes, ma’am.”


*

Because I’m a piece of shit and I want to defy her, I only wait five minutes before I walk back to the bar. Rookie is still seated, and I scan the room but don’t see Diem. “She’s out back,” he informs me, sliding a beer down the bar.

I take a long pull then light a cigarette—smelling Diem’s * on my hand as I do. My dick stirs to life again and I have to remind him to behave. “Well,” I start, turning to look at Rookie. “Go ahead and give me the gossip.”

He shrugs. “No gossip. Either people are too scared to say anything or too stupid to notice.” Well that’s good news. “How’d it go?” I give him a crooked smile and he nods. “I thought as much.”

“She’s staying with me tonight. Not sure what’s gonna go down with me and her,” I say, feeling my mood darken at the reminder.

“I’ll keep my phone on,” Rookie promises, sliding me another shot.

Holding up the glass, I offer him a toast. “To brothers.”

Clinking his glass to mine, he gives me his signature shrug. “And the f*cked-up women who love us.”


*

A pleased smile crosses Diem’s face when she walks in from the patio to find every woman fully dressed. I roll my eyes as she celebrates her small victory. I get her a Seven and Seven, and ask Monica to leave the bottle on the bar for me. Diem cuts me with a look but I ignore it.

Nationals followed her inside, probably wondering what in the hell is going on between us. Nosy f*ckers. Diem’s goons still stand at the door looking out of place and more like feds instead of Mafia guys.

“What’s the deal with them?” I ask her, nodding my chin in their direction.

Diem follows my gaze and shrugs. “I’m kind of a package deal now.” I shake my head. “What?” she asks, loud enough to draw the attention of several people nearby. Soon, the whole bar is quiet and listening to our conversation.

“You don’t need them.” I try to keep my voice low, but I’m sure everyone heard me.

She laughs. “So, all I need is you?” I look up to find Nationals watching us. Fuck it. I don’t care who hears what I have to say.

“You know I’ll take care of you,” I say, reaching out to rub my thumb across her wrist.

She keeps her face impassive, appearing unaffected by my touch. To avoid me, she looks over at Rookie. “Hey, Joe.”

“Diem,” he says with a nod. “And it’s Rookie, by the way.” She quirks an eyebrow. “My name isn’t Joe. It’s Rookie.”

“Ah,” she says, finally catching on. “Rookie. Right.”

I’m itching with anxiety—burning her with the intensity of my gaze until she finally sheds a little mercy on my sorry ass and turns to look at me. “I think we need to talk.”

She appraises me a moment before looking at her goons. Just like her father, she uses the power of a chin tip to dismiss them. Turning back to me, she nods. “I’m ready when you are.” Well, it’s about f*cking time.

I lead Diem out, throwing my hand up to Nationals on the way. I ignore their curious stares. If they want to know something, they’ll ask. And knowing them, my phone will be blowing up by noon.

Dawn is breaking in the Nevada sky and it’s the nicest time of day here in the west. It’s my favorite time for riding too, and I can’t help but feel a little excited at the thought of Diem riding with me. I’m smiling by the time I get to my bike, but it quickly fades when I notice she’s stopped several feet away.

“I’m not riding that f*cking thing,” she says, looking at my bike like it’s a camel.

“Those shoes comfortable?” I ask, jerking my chin toward her six-inch stilettos.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not riding it, shoes or no shoes.”