Make It Hurt (Texas Bounty) Page 13

  She wanted to touch him, wanted to run her hand down that powerful back, feel all those muscles tense, watch them move as he shifted. He was a beautiful, beautiful man, no mistake.

  But she didn’t touch him, contenting herself with looking at him instead, because she wasn’t quite sure what she’d do if he woke up and reached for her.

  She wasn’t quite sure if she was going to give him another night, either.

  He hadn’t been pleased when she’d told him she’d think about it, that was for sure. In fact, he’d pulled her off the vanity and dragged her into his massive, glass-walled shower with the amazing shower head, lifting her up against the white tiles in a casual display of strength, then pushing inside her. He’d been demanding, intense. Making her scream his name again and again.

  Better than talking to him about the past, though. Especially her past. She still wasn’t certain why she’d told him about leaving Houston. He’d picked up on her little lie about walking out on her father fairly easily; then again, she’d never been the world’s best liar.

  You lie to yourself pretty damn well.

  Nora pushed her hair back from her face and sighed. Yeah, she’d lied to herself about a lot of things, and Smith bringing them all back again didn’t help. So why she was even contemplating another night with him was anyone’s guess.

  Maybe it was the fact he’d actually said please.

  Or maybe once isn’t enough for you either.

  She pulled a face. Well, maybe it wasn’t. But it was more sex she wanted, not deep and meaningful conversations about their lives. And regardless of what he wanted, that’s all she was prepared to give him. If he wanted another night of sex, fine. But they weren’t going to damn well talk, that was for sure.

  Slipping off the bed as quietly as possible so as not to wake him, she spent a moment looking around for her clothes before remembering she’d left them downstairs.

  She padded down the stairs and into the lounge, finding her clothes strewn all over the floor near the couch. Her phone was near her jeans, having fallen out of her pocket, and she could see already a number of texts from various different people on the screen.

  Holy shit, it was ten a.m. No wonder people were texting her.

  She dressed quickly, then sat down on the couch and texted Duchess straightaway, telling her boss she’d slept in and she’d be there in half an hour. Dammit. She hated being late.

  “Not leaving already?”

  The deep, rough sound of his voice made her go instantly hot. She swallowed, standing up, pocketing her phone as she did so.

  Smith stood in the doorway, his arms folded, his shoulder hitched against the frame. He was completely naked and clearly fine with that. Hell, she was fine with that, because, damn, the man was pretty much perfect.

  “I have to go,” she said, her tone husky, trying to keep her gaze very firmly on his face and not drift lower to…other parts of him. “I’m late for work.”

  A wicked grin curved his mouth. Obviously he could sense the effect he was having on her and was pleased about it. “Hey, if you’re already late, staying another half an hour won’t matter.”

  God help her, she was actually thinking about it. But no. She needed to get back to Duchess and let her know that the Brook/Dust issue had been dealt with, because no doubt her boss would be getting antsy about it.

  “I need to get back to the office,” she said, bending to pick up the cowboy hat that had once been his from where Smith had tossed it on the couch. “Duchess is expecting me.”

  The expression on his face turned skeptical, but he didn’t insist. “Fine, tonight then.”

  “What about tonight?” Nora put the hat on her head, adjusting it, pretending not to know what he was talking about to mess with him a little.

  His black gaze narrowed. “You’ve forgotten already, huh?”

  “Oh, you mean about another night?”

  “Yeah. What did you think I was meaning?”

  She grinned, enjoying his irritation. “Hey, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Moving over to where he stood in the doorway, she halted in front of him. Getting close to him was probably a mistake, because she wouldn’t put it past him to reach out and grab her, convince her to stay another half an hour, with those magic hands of his. But she couldn’t leave without at least a kiss goodbye. That wouldn’t be right after the kind of night he’d given her. “What a grumpy boy you are,” she murmured, leaning in. “Okay, another night it is. But you’ll have to give me a couple of days.”

  Heat flared in his eyes. “No. Tonight.”

  “Not going to happen.” She needed to show the damn man that he wasn’t the only one who got to call the shots. Besides, she could do with a bit of processing time. “A girl likes her space.”

  Smith let out an irritated breath. “This is bullshit.”

  She wanted to smile at his annoyance and then remembered something else, and all her amusement fled.

  Dropping her hand from his chest, she took a step back, wanting to put a bit of distance between them. “Oh, and about Brook…”

  The look on his face hardened. “What about him?”

  “You promised you’d give him to me.” She felt a little weird about bringing it up, especially after the night they’d had together. But still, that had been the agreement between them. And Duchess needed the guy safely out of the way. “Not to mention dropping the threat to Duchess.”

  Smith’s gaze turned opaque, the black of his eyes like obsidian. “Oh, yeah,” he said flatly. “That.”

  She tried to ignore the small sliver of doubt that slid between her ribs. “You are going to give him up, aren’t you?”

  He scowled, suddenly looking every inch the dangerous biker president. “Of course. I promised you Dust and you’ll get him. Gimme some time to sort it out.”

  He wouldn’t break his word, of course he wouldn’t. And she didn’t know why she’d doubted. “Well, okay then. I’ll tell Duchess I’m handling it.”

  An awkward silence settled between them.

  Smith abruptly pushed himself away from the doorframe, reaching out with an easy movement and hooking an arm around her waist, drawing her in close. Then he slid one hand into her hair and tugged her head back, bending and covering her mouth with a hot, hungry kiss.

  She couldn’t resist the urge to lean into the delicious heat of his body, to inhale the warm, masculine scent of him, to kiss him back as hungrily as he was kissing her.

  But he was the one who ended it, and way before she was ready.

  Lifting his head, he released her and stepped back, making no move to hide his obvious arousal. “You better get going,” he said shortly. “Or else I’m going pick you up, take you back to my bed, and to hell with your fucking job.”

  Not needing to be told twice, Nora went.

  Chapter 9

  “Ah, Nora, there you are.” Duchess was lounging behind her desk as Nora pushed open the door to her office, at least two hours late for work. A woman in a cop uniform turned to look at Nora. “Do you know Officer St. George?”

  The cop had a scattering of freckles across her nose and the kind of glowing, wholesome prettiness that would be more at home in a butter commercial than in a uniform. Copper-gold eyes gave Nora a quick and surprisingly sharp once-over, the kind of look that automatically made her middle finger want to turn up.

  Restraining herself, she walked over and stuck out her hand instead. “Sorry I’m late. No, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Nora Sutcliffe.”

  The cop ignored Nora’s hand, her eyes narrowing. “You’re responsible for the delivery of Garrett Brook, I’m told?”

  Okay, no handshake then. Fine.

  Nora ignored the sudden churning in her gut at the mention of Dust and flicked a glance at Duchess, who raised a questioning eyebrow.

  Well, of course. She’d told Duchess she’d handle it and since she didn’t actually have Dust with her, her boss probably wanted to know what was going on.

  P
utting her hands in her pockets, she looked back at the cop. “Yeah, that’s me.”

  “Ms. Hammond mentioned that you were having difficulties locating him.”

  “I was having difficulties. But I’ve just come back from a meeting with the Ministry president, who assured me he’s going to hand over Brook in the next couple of days.” No need to tell them exactly what kind of meeting it was.

  Duchess was frowning. “So, you just took his word for it?”

  There was a note in the other woman’s voice that made Nora feel instantly defensive.

  Luckily you have a plan B already worked out.

  True, she did. Maybe once she would have believed Smith, would have trusted him to keep his word absolutely. But he wasn’t that guy anymore. He was a biker president whose first loyalty was to his club and his brothers. Which meant that if he wasn’t on the level, she needed to find Dust herself and without somehow dragging down the Ministry threat onto Duchess.

  It was tricky, but she thought she’d come up with at least a vague plan that should mean Duchess herself would stay out of it. Unfortunately, it involved asking one of the Redmond brothers for a favor in locating Dust, and that wouldn’t make Duchess happy. Then again, beggars couldn’t be choosers and they didn’t have a lot of choice.

  A great reason to keep this secret from her boss. Duchess would flip if she knew Nora was planning on calling on the Redmonds to help solve this particular dilemma.

  Ignoring her own defensiveness, she met Duchess’s skeptical look. “He gave me his word. I believe he’ll honor it.”

  Officer St. George’s expression was openly doubtful. “How do you know? He’s a biker, they look after their own, and I’m sure he’d tell you anything you wanted to hear if it meant protecting his brother.”

  “And what’s your interest, if I may ask?” Nora shot back, because she really didn’t want to get into this discussion. “We’re the agency with his bond. We’ll do the job.”

  The cop blinked, clearly not expecting the question. “He could be of assistance to various…inquiries.”

  That sounded vague as hell. Had Duchess told the cop about the extortion maybe? Then again, probably not. The last thing Duchess would want is the cops looking into her father’s scam, whether she’d actually been involved or not.

  Clearly Duchess thought the same thing, “Leave this with me, Ava,” she said with her usual calm. “I’ll let you know as soon as we locate him.”

  The cop’s sharp copper gaze shifted to the woman behind the desk. “Fine.” The word was swimming in whole oceans of disbelief. “If you manage to locate him.”

  “We will.” Nora gave her a grin, because one way or another, she certainly would. “I’ll make sure of it personally.”

  “You do that, Ms. Sutcliffe.” Officer St. George gave a short nod in Duchess’s direction, another dubious glance at Nora, then strode to the door and went out.

  “Wow,” Nora muttered. “Uptight much?”

  The frown hadn’t left Duchess’s face. “Sit down, Nora.”

  Nora sat and tried not to fidget.

  There was an uncomfortable pause.

  Duchess’s gaze narrowed and she leaned forward, elbows on her desk, clasping her hands in front of her, her blue eyes sharp.

  Here it comes…

  “I have to ask,” Duchess said. “What’s the story with you and the MC president? Do you know this guy or what?”

  Hell. She didn’t want to talk about this, especially not with Duchess. It was her secret, no one else’s. “That’s kind of not relevant. Just know I’ve got it in hand, okay?”

  It sounded lame even to her own ears. “Look,” she went on, trying to sound stronger. “I’ve never let a guy get one over on me before, and I’m not going to start now. I’ve got a plan B tucked up my sleeve if President A-Hole doesn’t come to the party.”

  Duchess kept staring, her gaze suddenly zeroing in on a spot on Nora’s neck. “Right,” she said, slowly. “And I suppose it’s not relevant in much the same way as that hickey on your neck isn’t relevant.”

  Shock ran an icy finger down Nora’s spine and she only just stopped herself from putting a hand to her neck. Damn Smith. God, what an idiot. She should have checked herself out in the mirror before she’d gone to work.

  “So?” She went for nonchalance. “I got laid last night. No biggie.”

  Duchess didn’t even blink. “Anyone we know?”

  Nora shifted on her seat. “Do we really have to have an interrogation about my love life? I’ve got some criminals to catch and—”

  “We do if it concerns your job,” Duchess interrupted. “You’ve gotten all tense every time I mention this guy, which leads me to suspect there’s something about him that you’re not telling me.”

  Ah, crap. She wasn’t going to get away with another subject change, was she? Duchess was going to get it out of her one way or another, because the woman was uncannily perceptive. Might as well be up front, get it out of the way.

  Sitting back in her seat, Nora folded her arms. “Okay, okay. So I do know him. He and I used to…have a thing a few years ago. When I went to see him the day before to get that skip, we kind of got to talking and, well, one thing led to another, et cetera.”

  Her boss did not look in the least bit surprised. “I see. So you’re sleeping with him?”

  “I ‘slept’ with him. Past tense. It was a one-off thing.” Apart from the second night she’d promised him. Which she would give him at some point, just not right now.

  Duchess frowned. “I’m not sure I’m happy with you mixing business with pleasure. Especially not with bikers and a skip we need to put away.”

  Put like that, it didn’t sound good. Guilt sat in Nora’s gut, solid and heavy, making her feel like she’d swallowed a lead weight. “Yes, I know that.” And how. “Like I said, it was a one-off thing. He’s going to get me Dust, so that’s the—”

  “Please don’t tell me you slept with him in order to get the skip?”

  The question was so fast and sharp that for a second Nora couldn’t process it. Then, when she had, shock made her blink. Did Duchess know about Smith’s little blackmail attempt? Because she couldn’t, not when they hadn’t told anyone.

  Of course she doesn’t know. It’s just a guess so calm the hell down.

  Nora forced out an are you serious laugh. “Come on, do I look like a woman who needs to sleep with a man to get him to do what she wants?”

  But her boss’s sharp gaze didn’t waver. “It’s not you I’m concerned about. It’s him. Because if he’s threatening you—”

  “He’s not threatening me,” Nora interrupted before Duchess could really get going. “I promise.” And he kind of wasn’t. The person Smith was actually threatening was Duchess, and fundamentally that hadn’t been the reason she’d slept with him.

  No, she’d slept with him because she’d wanted to. Because she’d wanted him.

  Duchess gave her a dubious look, but Nora met it levelly. Her boss’s heart was in the right place and she couldn’t be faulted for wanting to take care of her employees. However, the situation with Smith wasn’t what Duchess thought, and Nora wasn’t about to explain it to her. Not when all she and Smith were going to have was a couple of nights of hot sex and that’s it.

  “We done here?” she asked, her hands on the arms of the chair in preparation for standing up. “Because I’ve got some paperwork I need to finish.” And a Redmond brother to contact.

  Duchess let out a slow breath, obviously reluctant to let the subject go. “You’ll come to me if you need anything, won’t you?”

  “Yes, I promise. I can handle myself, Duchess, you know that.”

  Her boss gave her another one of those skeptical looks she’d perfected, the one that often made Nora feel a bit like a naughty kid. But all she said was, “Go on, then. Let me know when the situation changes.”

  Nora didn’t argue, fleeing Duchess’s office before her boss could change her mind.

&nb
sp; Back at her own desk, she managed to get hold of Rush Redmond, the middle Redmond brother and an ex-con, who had a veritable who’s who of the criminal underworld at his fingertips. He was, as predicted, an asshole about using those contacts to track down Brook, but when she reminded him of the Redmond job she’d helped out on a month back, rescuing Zane’s woman from a drug cartel, he soon saw the light.

  Then she spent the rest of the day doing laborious paperwork, a task she normally loathed. But she was thankful for it since it kept her out of the way, and God knew, she didn’t need yet another person pointing out the mark on her neck and giving her shit about it. Luckily, though, West and Rhys were on jobs and were out for most of the day. Rose was too busy doing something on her computer and didn’t even look up when, come 5 p.m., Nora dumped some files on her desk and headed toward the exit, not even bothering with a goodbye.

  God, she’d gotten off lucky, all things considered.

  Now what she needed was a tub of ice cream, a few episodes of Antiques Roadshow, and a night off from thinking about goddamn Smith.

  —

  “So, you managed to get that bounty hunter bitch off my tail?” Dust’s voice on the other end of the phone sounded a little rough.

  Smith, lounging back in his chair in his office in the clubhouse, his booted feet propped on his desk, scowled. “Call her that again and I’ll cut your fucking balls off. You treat her with goddamn respect.”

  There was a brief silence.

  “Yeah, sure, Prez,” Dust said, sounding about as pissed off as Smith felt. “And why the fuck would I do that?”

  Since his VP wasn’t actually present to glower at, Smith glowered at the wall opposite his desk instead. Perhaps a lack of respect toward Nora shouldn’t have gotten him so pissy, especially since she wasn’t his old lady or anything. Yet he felt pissy about it anyway.

  Getting all possessive, huh?

  Well, and why the fuck not? The night before had been good. No, scratch that, it had been the best he’d had in years, and sure, that made him possessive. He didn’t want any other motherfucker getting in on that action, nor would he stand by and let any other motherfucker insult her.