Chapter Eight
Wade
What was Lauren doing here?
I felt my frustration simmer as I watched her sitting at a table with some members of Black Storm, listening to their stories and laughing with them. What on earth could those old men say that she’d find so funny?
“What’s the matter with you?” George’s voice broke into my thoughts. “You look even more like a sourpuss than usual.”
I turned to face the bar. “Pour me a glass of whiskey.”
“No.” Jake slid into the stool next to mine. “I need you to bring Lauren home.”
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh. Is that why you called me here?”
He didn’t answer. He just signaled to George, asking for his helmet and his gloves, which he usually stashed under the counter.
I frowned. “And why aren’t you the one bringing her home?”
“Because I have some business to attend to.”
“Late-night tattoo business or Black Storm business?”
Jake slipped on a glove. “Personal business.”
In other words, none of mine.
When he was done putting his gloves on, he grabbed the keys to Billie’s pickup truck from the peg on the wall and tossed them to me. “And now, Lauren’s yours.”
Without another word, he headed toward the door, helmet under his arm.
“Where’s Jake going?” Randy asked, leaning on the counter as he handed George a drink.
I shrugged. “Beats me.”
I was still wondering about that myself. Jake wasn’t a lone wolf. That was more like me. Yes, he could spend hours by himself in his garage, and I knew there were many things he kept to himself, but he cared about others. He liked looking after other people. And he liked getting things done with them. So why was he ditching Lauren and going off on his own all of a sudden?
I looked at George. “Do you know?”
He put his hands up. “Don’t look at me. I don’t know what the boss is up to either. All I know is that he arrived here with Lauren a few hours ago, and that he hasn’t had a single drop of liquor.”
That meant his business was serious, which made it all the more suspicious that he hadn’t asked for help.
“She, on the other hand, has been drinking ever since she got here.” George pointed his chin at Lauren.
I looked at her and frowned. No wonder she was flirting with all the guys. She had moved to another table, practically bent over it with her butt sticking out, her denim shorts riding up her thighs.
What would she do if I bent her over a table, slapped her ass, and fucked her silly from behind?
Yes, watching the expression on her face while burying my cock inside her would be thrilling, but taking her from behind could have its own perks, too, like allowing me to go deeper inside her, to play with her breasts, and to grab her hair or her arms and take full control…
“So, that’s Lauren?” Randy disrupted my fantasy, and at the right time, too. Another second more, and I could have embarrassed myself with a hard-on.
Seriously, that woman had a way of fucking me up in the head.
“Yeah,” I answered Randy’s question as I faced the bar.
I signaled to George to give me a can of soda, gulping down about a third of it before stopping in hopes of calming myself down but to little effect. Fuck. I could use some whiskey right now.
“Is she Jake’s girlfriend?” Randy asked next.
“No. She’s living with us at Jake’s house, but she’s Max’s girlfriend.”
Which is precisely why I should quit having fucking fantasies about her.
Fucking get it together, soldier.
“And where is Max?” George asked.
Good question. He should be here looking after his drunk girlfriend.
I took another sip of my soda. “Max left town before lunch.”
On personal business. That seemed to be the theme of the day.
George placed the drinks he had mixed on a tray. Randy was about to pick it up but stopped.
“By the way, George, I forgot to tell Billie, but I was hoping I could take off work tomorrow,” he said. “I’ve just got some stuff to do.”
Great. More personal business.
“I’ll tell Billie,” George answered. “But is this about Gina? Is she okay?”
Randy nodded. “Yeah. She’s fine. Thanks.”
He left with the drinks. I sipped the rest of my soda in silence, trying to block out the sound of Lauren’s laughter, which sounded like nails on a chalkboard each time it reached my ears.
I knew she was young, but surely she was old enough to know how to behave. Also, I was glad that she seemed to be having fun, but wasn’t she having a little too much?
George nudged my shoulder. “Isn’t it about time you consider taking Lauren home? I mean considering she’s had a few drinks too many already.”
Good idea. I finished my soda and got up from the stool. When I turned around, Lauren was dancing next to the jukebox, her hands in the air and her hips swaying. She was doing it like no one was watching, her eyes closed, but most of the people at the bar were staring at her, grinning.
What the fucking hell?
I stormed across the bar, grabbed Lauren by the arm, and dragged her out the side door to where Billie’s pickup was parked.
“Let go of me!” She wrenched her arm away. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Keeping you from making an even bigger fool of yourself,” I told her. “Though unfortunately, I can’t erase memories, so you’ll just have to live with the fact that…”
“Who do you think you are?” Lauren glared at me. “You’re not my boyfriend.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “Thank goodness Max wasn’t here to see your show.”
“What? Did I embarrass you?”
“You embarrassed yourself. Look at you. You’re…”
Stunning. That was the first word that entered my mind as I stared at her flushed face and her hair tumbling over her shoulders, in disarray but still perfect. With her green eyes, she looked like a fairy under the moonlight.
Except fairies didn’t wear curve-hugging tops and shorts like she did, exposing a fair bit of skin which was now covered in a sheen of sweat.
Sexy. Or so she was, until she opened her mouth.
“I’m what?”
“Drunk,” I told her.
Lauren pouted. “I’m not drunk. I’ve only had three beers.”
So she said, but she was holding out four fingers. And she was speaking louder than usual.
I sighed. “Whatever. Get in the truck.”
She folded her arms over her chest and pouted.
My eyebrows furrowed. How old was she? Five?
I grabbed her arm. “Get in.”
“Or what?” She wrenched her arm away from me and put both hands on her hips. “Are you going to drag me in there, too? Or carry me over your shoulder like a…like a sack of potatoes?”
Tempting.
She twirled some strands of her hair around her fingers. “How am I supposed to know you’re going to take me home?”
“Because Jake told me to.”
“Right. And everyone does whatever Jake says.” She looked around. “Where is he, anyway?”
I shrugged. “Who knows? He might already be at home.”
“I don’t believe you. He wouldn’t leave me here. He wouldn’t leave me alone with you.”
“Well, he did.”
“I don’t trust you.”
Her words, though slurred, stung more than I expected, goading me. “Don’t worry. The feeling’s mutual. But that doesn’t change the fact that I was asked to get you home.”
“Well, I don’t want to…”
She stopped to sneeze. I frowned and took off my jacket so I could put it on her. She resisted for a second, but wrapped it around her shoulders.
I opened the door of the pickup truck. “Now, can you get in the truck before you catch a cold?”
She peered inside. “Are you sure you didn’t jerk off in there? I’m not going to find something disgusting on the seat or on the carpet?”
What on earth was she talking about?
Then my heart stopped as an idea rushed into my head. Wait. Did she see me jerking off at home?
No. She couldn’t have. She wasn’t home.
Right?
Lauren looked at me. “Well, am I?”
“No,” I told her firmly. “This is Billie’s truck, not mine.”
“Oh.” Her lips spread into a soft smile. “I like Billie.”
“Everyone does.”
“She told me some stuff about you, like how you used to be deployed and how you were married once. I didn’t know you were divorced.”
Because I didn’t tell her. Why would I? I barely knew her.
“When?” Lauren asked, eyebrows knitted in curiosity.
“Four years ago.”
“Kids?”
“None.” Thank goodness for that, or everything would have been messier.
“Did she leave you?”
“We both decided to end the marriage.” I put my hand on the door of the truck. “Now, would you please get in the truck?”
Lauren grinned. “Wow. Who knew you could be polite?”
Was that supposed to be a compliment?
“Well, I’m sorry for disappointing you,” I answered her in the same spirit of sarcasm.
“Actually, you surprised me.” Her grin widened as she staggered toward me. “You look so tough, but you’re not, are you?”
What was that supposed to mean?
She touched the pair of dog tags hanging from around my neck. “You act all cold like you’re made of stone, but you can’t hide your feelings all the time. You can act shitty like you don’t need anyone, but you do.”
The truth in her words stabbed my gut like a dagger. And I hated it.
“Don’t talk like you know me,” I told Lauren through gritted teeth.
“Ah, but I do.” She fiddled with the dog tags, stroking one. “I’ve seen you like no one else has.”
So she really did see me jerking off? Fuck.
She stepped back. “Whoa. Is that a blush, Lieutenant?”
“Major,” I corrected her, trying to hold on to my composure. “And I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Ah, but I think you do.” Her green eyes gleamed with mischief as she touched her chin. “You may act like some tough soldier, but you’re just a man who…”
I kissed her as the temper I had been trying to keep in check all evening broke free, tearing down my composure. And probably decimating my common sense, too.
All I knew was that I had to shut Lauren up. At least, that was the first thought that ran through my mind, but as my lips crashed against hers over and over, I realized all I wanted was to kiss her.
When she gripped the front of my shirt and kissed me back, excitement roared in my veins. And raging desire.
I placed my hand on her back and pulled her closer, close enough that her breasts were brushing against my chest. With my other hand, I grabbed a handful of her soft hair.
When she parted her lips, I slipped my tongue inside. She tried to push it back, our tongues twining in between gasps for air.
The taste of her did things to me, my cock pulsing and straining against my boxers as it longed to be in her mouth and in her hands like I had imagined. It yearned to be inside her. And right now, it was the one giving me orders.
I was about to touch Lauren’s breast when suddenly, she pushed me away. She turned around and started walking, managing to get to some bushes where she threw up.
In an instant, the daze that had seized me vanished. A part of me, the one in my boxers, felt a tinge of frustration, but as my mind kicked back in, I realized this was for the best. If Lauren hadn’t gotten sick, I might not have been able to stop, then Max would have ended up getting hurt. I’d already betrayed him enough by kissing his girlfriend.
Fuck. What kind of friend was I?
I took a moment to calm myself down, then went over to Lauren, gathering her hair to keep it away from her face while she finished expelling the excess alcohol in her stomach. When she was done, I grabbed the roll of tissue from the truck and handed it to her so she could clean up, then I offered her my arm and helped her get to the truck.
As soon as she was in the passenger seat, she passed out. I carefully strapped her seatbelt on.
Unconscious, she seemed like a totally different woman, so vulnerable, innocent, and peaceful. And yet I was still drawn to her. I wanted to touch her cheek and stroke her hair, but I didn’t.
After all, I had already made a mistake by kissing her, a fact that I planned on telling Max even if it meant risking his anger and our friendship, and I wasn’t going to make another. Never again.
I could only hope Max could forgive me for what I’d done.