Chapter 4
AERIANNA
This has got to be the weirdest job training I have ever had. When I went in through the employee entrance, a big bald man was waiting for me. Without a word, he led me through a maze of corridors, twisting and turning until I completely lost my sense of direction. We finally stopped in a stark white room.
He told me to sit at the desk and not move. I complied, my senses working in overdrive. I sat down and a few minutes later, he came back with a change of clothes, told me to put them on and don’t fuck around.
His tone left no room for argument, so I quickly stripped out of my leggings and t-shirt and slipped into the provided outfit. A pair of black dress pants, a crisp white long-sleeved shirt, and a purple-and-green vest. After I pulled my hair up in a ponytail, I sat down and slipped on the black shoes. Everything fit like it was tailored just for me, but I don’t know how. I haven’t given anyone my measurements.
Before I could dwell on it, another man entered. He didn’t introduce himself, just dropped a thick booklet and a pen onto the desk with a loud slap. He told me to fill it out and yet again, don’t fuck around.
I opened the booklet that was more like a damn novel and began filling it out. It asked everything from where I was born and who my parents are, right down to when I have my menstrual cycle. I skipped half the questions not giving a shit if they want them. They don’t need to know half this crap to get a job.
Closing the ridiculous questionnaire, I set the pen on top. I was half-tempted to draw a middle finger on the cover, but I resisted. Patience have never been my strong suit and I’m struggling to not walk out the door and tell them to fuck off.
The door suddenly swings open, and standing in front of me is the man I can’t stop thinking about. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
His piercing blue eyes lock onto mine, and for a moment, I’m speechless. I let my gaze travel from his boots to his head, halting when our eyes meet again, a look of disgust crossing his features.
My hackles rise, and I narrow my eyes. “What the hell are you doing here?” I ask, sitting back in my chair and crossing my arms over my chest.
“I should be asking you the same thing.” Trigger growls, agitation rolling off him in waves like he’s pissed because I’m here. His eyes roam down to my chest and then back up again. He crosses his arms over his chest, mimicking my posture. The veins along his forearms stand out, a clear reminder of his strength. It’s impossible not to look. Strong arms are my kryptonite. “But I already know the answer and it’s fuck no.”
I drag my gaze back up to this sexy but frustrating man’s eyes. “Wait, you can’t tell me no.” I protest, my voice rising with a mix of disbelief and frustration.
“The fuck? I can tell anyone who I want, no. And that includes you,” he snaps, a scowl forming on his face. The scrunch of his nose is either disgust with the idea of me working here or with me personally. Either way, it stings.
“Please, I need this job.” I stand up, practically begging him. “I’ll do anything you want. Just give me a chance. If I fuck up, then fire me. But don’t hold our past against me.” The words hit hard, and I feel a lump in my throat. I straighten my spine, fighting back the tears.
For a moment, his angry demeanor shifts, the scowl softening before it hardens again on his handsome, rugged face. Aeri, stop thinking like this! “Fine. But if you mess up once, your ass is out faster than you ran me over a few weeks ago.”
“Thank you!” I jump and hug Trigger. Pulling away quickly, I wipe the smile off my face and pray he doesn’t can my ass now. I need this job, and not just for the money.
Trigger turns on his heels and walks out the door. “Hurry up. You’re late. Your shift started twenty minutes ago.” Trigger throws over his shoulder.
I scramble to gather my things and follow him down the clean corridor. There isn’t even a scuff mark on the tiles. We walk, well, Trigger’s long legs walk, while my shorter ones hurry to catch up until another man approaches us.
He has on a Royal Bastards MC cut, and his patch reads Tiny. He has a yellow carrying case that looks small in his big, meaty hands. He nods at Trigger before his gaze sweeps over me, sizing me up. I feel his scrutiny like a weight. He appraises me from the tip of my black uniform shoes to the sleek ponytail on top of my head. Trigger growls low in his throat and Tiny chuckles. One of the first security guards that I met approach us with caution. That gets my attention quickly.
“Take her to the training floor. Have her learn Blackjack from Annabeth.” Trigger orders, flipping open a folder I didn’t notice he was holding. He scans it like he has no clue who I am. “Once Miss Faber gets the hang of it, bring her to the gaming floor.”
“Yes, sir.” The security guard practically salutes Trigger, and I try to hold back my eye roll. Tiny chuckles while Trigger growls again from deep in his throat, and it sets my body on fire. Oops. Maybe I didn’t do as good of a job as I thought.
Jesus, that was brutal. I’ve been playing Blackjack for over four hours, and now Annabeth is taking me to the gaming floor. I left my backpack, which has my clothes, keys, and wallet in a locker in the women’s bathroom next to the employee entrance. If I need to leave quickly, I won’t lose my stuff. My eyes search the robust design, looking for Trigger.
My heart is pounding with anticipation when my gaze lands on Trigger sitting at a Blackjack table alone, with a drink in one hand and an unlit cigar in the other. His sexy forearms are on full display under the RMBC cut he’s wearing. He might look like a rugged take no bullshit biker, but underneath the tough exterior, I see a sophisticated man who has had a hard life. That’s even scarier than the brute strength some of these MC members show. It means he is smart as well as cunning. He exudes both street smarts and book smarts, and that is a dangerous combination.
Instead of waiting for Annabeth to order me to another table, I swallow my nerves and head in Trigger’s direction. Drawing closer, I wipe my sweaty palms on my work pants and approach the dealer. I tap him on the shoulder, and he looks back at me with a stunned expression. I frown before clearing my throat.
“I’m here to give you a break.”
The dealer nods his head, and I stand back, watching Trigger play this round with rapt attention. His long, sexy fingers tap on his cards, asking for a hit. The dealer flips over Trigger’s next card, revealing a two of diamonds. Adding the total up in my head quickly, Trigger has twenty, and the dealer has fifteen. This forces the dealer to flip another card over. When he does, it’s the seven of clubs, causing him to bust. He collects the chips and distributes the winnings to Trigger.
Then he flips his hands over twice before stepping back, and I step into his place. My fingers tremble slightly as I shuffle the deck, the smooth cards slipping between my fingertips. I inhale sharply, steadying my hands before I deal the first round. The weight of Trigger’s piercing blue eyes presses against my skin like a brand. His blue eyes are sharp, unblinking, and unreadable, making my pulse stutter. I swallow hard and push a breath past my lips. Focus. Just a game, just a man. But damn if my body believes that lie.
“Are you ready?” I ask.
Trigger shakes his head with a growl and smirks. “You have no idea.” His voice, deep and rough, sends a chill down my spine. Trigger places his bet on the table and sits back, watching me.
Even though I’m shaking on the inside, I keep my hands steady and my breathing even. I set out the first round of cards, revealing a five of Spades to Trigger and an Ace of Diamonds to me.
I don’t break eye contact with Trigger as I place his next card down face up on the felt. I see out of my peripheral vision that he has a six of Clubs. That makes eleven. I flip over my card, revealing a nine of Hearts. My total is ten or twenty. Depending on what Trigger does, if I will beat him or not.
Not taking his mesmerizing gaze off me, Trigger slowly taps the table. I wet my lips with the tip of my tongue, and a smirk appears on his handsome face. Somehow, this game has changed. The way he is staring at me with hunger in the blue depths has my panties wet and my nipples tightening under my uniform shirt.
I flip his next card, not taking my eyes off him, and hold back a smirk when it’s the four of Hearts. I still have him beat, depending on what he does next. Trigger takes his stack of chips and pushes them onto the table. He leans forward, crooking his finger at me.
I lean forward until I can smell the whiskey on his breath, and Trigger’s intoxicating scent pulls me under a spell. I want to crawl across this table and let him have his way with me.
“If I beat you on this hand, you have to turn your badge in and let me take you back to my Clubhouse so I can blow your mind.”
“And if I win?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. My voice is husky with need.
“ If you win, Little Kitten, I’ll take you to your place and blow your mind.”
I swallow hard and exhale a shaky breath. I shake my head, I remember why I am here. I have a job to do. “Win or lose, I’m not letting you in my panties.”
I lean back at the same time Trigger sits back in his seat, his expression as stunned as mine. No matter how badly I want this man, he is untouchable. I cannot let him into my bed or my heart. He is a criminal, and my loyalty to the badge is to take them down, not them taking me down.
I flip over Trigger’s next card, and it’s the ten of Clubs. “Dealer wins,” I state.
I should be ecstatic, but I’m not. I want to get to know this intoxicating man. I wanted to see if he would go through with his plans and blow my mind or if it was all an act.
He drinks the last of his liquor and frowns when I take his chips and put them in their respective places on the holder. “Good job, Little Kitten.”
Trigger stands up when the other dealer comes back from break, pulling out his wallet. He throws some cash on the table and winks. “That’s for you, Kitten.” Then he saunters off and I watch his tight ass until it’s out of sight.
I collect the tip money Trigger left and scurry out of the gaming floor. My head is spinning a million miles an hour, and I’m exhausted after that intense interaction. I’ve been looking for a way into the Royal Bastards to find out what they know, and when I have them in my grasp, I let it go. All because I’ve caught feelings for a man I barely know.
Chastising myself for my lack of experience in this undercover shit, I slam open the women’s bathroom door. I can’t do this. I’m not made for this. A familiar scent lingers in the air, and the hair at the nape of my neck stands on end. I lift my gaze to the wall-to-wall mirrors in front of me and find Trigger standing right behind me. His piercing eyes are locked on mine, staring right into my soul.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask. I’m terrified he can smell my fear and my arousal.
“Have a drink with me.” Trigger demands, not taking his eyes off mine in the mirror.
I shake my head. “I can’t.” Not taking my gaze from his, I lift my chin. “I’m not some Club slut you snap your fingers at and expect me to drop my panties.” But God, I would, in a heartbeat, if he keeps pursuing me.
Trigger brushes his hand along my collarbone, making goosebumps break out across my skin. He leans in, pressing the heat of his front against my back. “Just one drink. If you don’t like my company, I’ll piss off and you’ll never hear from me again.”
Mesmerized by Trigger’s soft touch, his erotic scent, and his intense gaze, I break down and agree. “Ok, let me get changed, and I’ll meet you at the bar.”
Trigger’s expression is ecstatic from my agreement. He’s still pressed against me, and I feel the hardness of his arousal against my back. “You won’t regret this, Kitten.” Trigger’s lips brush the side of my head, his heated gaze never leaving mine until he walks out of the bathroom.
Once Trigger is out the door, I exhale deeply, and my knees turn wobbly from nerves. I’ve got to pull myself together, or Trigger will run all over me. Walking to the sink on shaky legs, I splash cold water on my face and compose myself. Grabbing the key to the locker, pull out my backpack and head into the stall to change.
Once I put on my street clothes and fix my hair and make-up, I straighten my spine, ready to see this through without losing myself in the process.