Have Gun, Will Travel (The Bare Bones MC #5)(11)
“I am. I think that motherf*cker needs to be buried. That’s all there is to it. He’s been strutting around thinking he owns the world for a decade now, and the only serious reality check he’s going to get is the inside of a large caliber barrel.”
I squirmed with pleasure. I’d made the right choice, for once, telling Sax our plans. He was the right man for the job. “I’m glad you agree with us. I got the impression you weren’t on the same page as Leo.”
Rolling his eyes, Sax laughed from one side of his mouth. “That’s an understatement. Leo and I haven’t seen eye to eye since I taught him how to ride a bike by pushing him down the hill on mine.” Putting his forearms on the table, he again leaned closer. When he examined me in detail like that, I felt like I was being caressed. The warmth emanating from his body hit me like a solid wall. I became conscious of the wet spot between my thighs, and I squirmed in my chair. That only made it worse, the seam in my shorts directly massaging my bulging clit. My panties were damp and miserable, almost itchy. I longed for a nice, deep session with my battery-operated boyfriend.
His hands were so close to mine, my heart accelerated to think he might take one of mine into his. “But listen, Beatrix. These are dangerous waters you’re treading. You took a huge chance just now even mentioning this to me. You women have to make abso-f*cking-lutely sure you don’t have any leaks, and this doesn’t get out. In fact, I’d advise you to relocate, to go into a safe house, until you’re sure he’s in the ground. Even after.”
Stupidly, that actually hadn’t occurred to me. “Yes, Cassie is staying in Pure and Easy with Madison Illuminati right now. But how is word going to get out? Hitmen—sicarios—need to know the bounty is there, or why would they come to us offering their services?”
Fisting one hand, Sax beat the table once. “You leave that to me, Bee. I’ll get the word out.”
I sat up straighter. “But no, Sax. I wanted you to…do the job. Personally. You’re the one I trust. The other girls have some ideas about men they want. But you’re the one I want.” In more ways than one, I thought, like a schoolgirl.
His laugh was genuine. He looked handsomer than ever when he threw his head back and let loose. “Bee, you’re something else. What rock have you been living under? I’m a mild-mannered geologist, a gem salesman. I still know a lot of guys from the old school days, but I myself haven’t…done a job like that in a decade.”
“But you could, if you wanted,” I pointed out.
He stopped laughing. “Yes. I could, theoretically.” He seemed to take it more seriously now. He said again, “I could.”
I slammed my palms against the table. “Then it’s decided! You track down Tormenta—I’ve heard he’s got a giant spread in Prescott—off him, then come back and tell us.”
Sax grinned and held up a palm. “Now wait, wait. I’ve got rocks to sell, Bee. I’ve got a life to live. I might still be a Boner, but I’m a nomad, see? I’ve got a show in Toronto to attend, then a show in New Hampshire, then down to Tennessee.”
I pouted. “But it should only take you a week or so, knowing your skills.”
I’d suspected that flattery would get me everywhere, and it did. He appeared to consider it. “True. How hard can it be to find a guy who’s afraid to leave the state? Listen, Bee. Quid pro quo. Tell me about yourself. You seem to know all about me.”
I blinked. “Actually, I know nothing about you. I just heard about you yesterday. I didn’t know Leo had a brother.”
He frowned. “That’s always nice to hear how memorable I am. Now, where do you come from? You’re not dressed like the others.”
I couldn’t tell him the truth about my abbey upbringing, so I left that part out. “Well, as I said, I went to high school with most of them. Then we…lost track of each other for a few years. About a year ago we reconnected. I own a nursery just south of town. That’s why there are so many nice potted plants in your clubhouse courtyard, and out front.”
“I noticed those. So we’re both in the earth sciences. I also noticed you’re collared.”
My hand automatically flew to my studded collar. My heart thudded. Not many people figured out my collar. Most assumed it was just another sort of necklace. How the f*ck did he… “I am,” I admitted, standoffish now. “My Sir is very interested in the dynamics of the power exchange. He likes to push limits, to explore boundaries.” I wanted to see if he understood this terminology, and he did.
“I see. For some reason you don’t strike me as the perfectly meek and dutiful submissive. I just can’t picture you going under willingly. You’ve maybe got a bit of the Force-me Queen in you.”
I gasped. “How do you know—”
“All these terms? I’m in the life too, as you might’ve gathered from—oh. You can’t see my ink.”
He seemed to have forgotten he was wearing a hoodie under his cut. Of course he couldn’t remove his cut in public, but he shoved up the hoodie sleeve, baring his powerful forearm to me. I didn’t expect that such an innocent move would result in such strong erotic stimulation. But with his hand fisted, the green veins lacing his forearm bulged, and when he tugged the sleeve up past his massive bicep, I was a goner. I didn’t remember ever feeling this way about Roscoe. Roscoe was thin, a David Bowie wannabe. Roscoe didn’t evoke these powerful, carnal feelings that stirred unknown and potent forces in me. What the f*ck was happening to me? I was a good sub! I belonged to Roscoe and Roscoe alone! Why were these sudden new, fresh ideas coming to me out of left field?