Chapter Eleven Deacon #2
At that moment, Alex backed her ass up to Kim and ground against her.
“Sweet Jesus,” I grunted while the men around me shouted their approval.
When Alex finally met my gaze, I crooked my finger at her.
With the grace of a supermodel on a runaway, she walked down the length of the bar to me.
The moment she was within my grasp, I motioned her down to where I could whisper in her ear.
When she did, I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her down.
My brothers booed and hissed at my move. “Shut the fuck up!” I shouted, as I put Alex on her feet.
“No, I don’t want to stop dancing.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I’m thirsty,” she absentmindedly announced. One of our out of town members, Tony, handed her a beer. “Thank you,” she replied sweetly. She then proceeded to down the thing in a series of big gulps and then sucked down another one that was placed in her eager hands.
“I don’t think that was a good idea.” Now that she was off the bar, she began to sway a little. Grabbing her shoulders, I steadied her. “Okay, I think it’s officially time for you to go to bed.”
Alex swatted my hands away from her. “Don’t be a party pooper,” she slurred. Glancing over her shoulder, she cried, “More shots!”
While Rev chuckled at her enthusiasm, a fast beat song came on the jukebox, and Alex scrambled to climb up on the bar again. “Get down.”
“But I wanna dance again.”
After her beer, she could barely walk, least of all dance. When I tightened my arms around her waist, she twisted around and then shoved me as hard as a drunk girl her size could. After I didn’t budge, she sent a stinging smack across my face. “Get off me!”
“I do that, and you’re going to end up on the floor.”
Jerking her chin up at me, she shrieked, “You’re an asshole!”
“And you’re a mean little drunk,” I mused, my cheek still stinging.
Alex’s brows furrowed. “Am I really a mean drunk?”
“Considering you just slapped me, I would have to say yes.”
She gasped. “Oh my God, I’m a horrible person.”
“And a mean drunk,” I teased. When her chin trembled, I groaned. “Now don’t go making yourself a ‘crying drunk’ too,” I warned.
After sniffling, she said, “I’m sorry I slapped you, Deacon.”
“It’s okay. I’m man enough to take it.”
When she peered up at me, she frowned. Closing her eyes, she shook her head. After she opened them again, she looked like she was staring past me. “You two don’t hate me, do you?”
I glanced left and right. There was only Alex and me standing there. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Her finger waved between me and the empty spot beside me. “You and him.”
“Jesus, now you’re seeing double?”
She hiccupped. “Maybe.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, you’re really going to bed now.” Taking her by the arm, I started leading her toward the bedrooms.
“Goodnight, Alex!” came a chorus of male voices.
“Night, boys!” she called over her shoulder.
As we started down the hall, she gazed up at me. “You know, I really like your boyfriends…I mean, brothers. Bikers are pretty cool.”
“I’m glad you think so,” I mused.
When we got inside my clubhouse room, Alex gazed around. “I was expecting something different.”
“Like what?”
“Lots of black leather, some fur furniture, and lots of mirrors.”
I laughed. “Well, there’s that one,” I said, motioning to the ceiling.
“Oh,” she murmured, as she gazed at our reflection.
“I can’t take the credit for putting it up. Whoever had it before me must’ve liked mirrors.”
Alex brought her gaze to mine again. “But you didn’t take it down?”
“Nah, it’s pretty cool sometimes.”
“Yuck.”
“Don’t knock it til you try it, babe.”
She shot me a disgusted look before stumbling over to the bed. When she started to faceplant on the mattress, I grabbed her arm. “Wait a minute.” With my other arm, I pulled down the spread and sheets. “Get under the covers.”
She snorted. “Yes, Daddy.”
That word on her lips sent a jolt straight to my cock. “Shut up”
In a sing-song voice, she asked, “Are you gonna read me a bedtime story, too?”
“No, I’m not. I’m going to hope and pray your drunken ass finally passes out because you’re driving me crazy.” Her response was to stick her tongue out at me. “Now you’re also an immature drunk.”
“Ugh, it’s hot,” she whined, kicking off the covers.
“If you can wait a damn minute, I’ll turn on the fan.
” When I turned back around from hitting the switch, I sucked in a harsh breath at the sight of Alex ripping off her shirt.
The white lacy bra was about the sexiest thing I’d seen in a long fucking time.
It may not have been skimpy, but just the fact I could see the outline of Alex’s pink nipples beneath the lacy shit made my mouth run dry.
But she wasn’t done tormenting me. Oh no, she had to rip off her jeans next to reveal white boy shorts. I licked my lips, trying hard to hold myself back from ripping them off of her and burying my face between her legs.
With my dick pounding against my zipper, I knew I needed to get the fuck out of there. If I didn’t, I was going to do something I would regret—something I never, ever did, which was fuck a seriously drunk girl.
When I turned to go, she grabbed onto my arm, pulling me to the bed. “Noooo, don’t leave.”
“Give me a fucking break, Alex. You can sleep it off by yourself.”
She giggled. “I promise not to try to take advantage of you.”
“That ain’t it.” No, I would be the one defiling her in a hundred different ways.
Her amusement faded. Staring up at me with those big brown eyes, she asked, “Don’t you want to stay with me?”
“You wouldn’t ask me that question if you were sober.”
“And why not?”
“Because you would know that I’m sure as hell not the type of man who does what a woman asks.”
“Even if she begs?”
“I only listen to pleading when I’m fucking.”
Her nose wrinkled. “You’re a disgusting pig.”
“Yeah, I am, babe. And don’t forget it.”
“Would you at least sit on the edge of the bed until I go to sleep?”
“You’re not giving up, are you?”
“I promise I won’t tell anyone that you did. You can save face in front of your brothers. Besides, I probably won’t remember this in the morning anyway.”
I don’t know why I eased down on the side of the bed.
But then that small voice of conscience, the one I usually ignored, seemed to overrule any idea about telling Alex no.
Every time Alex got remotely near me, I should bolt in the opposite direction.
I’d never met a woman this dangerous—one that made me do shit I didn’t want to do, to consider shit I didn’t want to.
Stretching my legs out, I pushed myself up in the bed to where I leaned back against the headboard.
Although we weren’t touching, I could still feel Alex beside me.
She overwhelmed me with her presence in my bed—the smell of her perfume, the fall of her hair on the pillow, the slide of her bare thigh on the comforter.
Lacey was the last woman I’d just laid in bed with without fucking.
When she wasn’t a drunken mess, there was nothing I loved more than to spoon against her.
Sure, it usually led to a hard on and screwing, but just the soft feel of her body did something to me—it calmed me.
I started to feel the same way with Alex.
I don’t know how long we lay there. Alex was so quiet I thought she had fallen asleep. But then she shifted in bed. Propping her head on her elbow, Alex then gazed up at me. “Tell me something about yourself—something you’ve never told anyone else.”
Scowling down at her, I replied, “You can get the fuck out of here if you think I’m going to do that.”
“Why not?”
I laced my fingers behind my head. “Because that ain’t me, babe. That ain’t who I am or who I’ll ever be.”
“Why are you so afraid to open up to someone?”
“I’m not,” I growled.
“Yes, you are.”
Giving her a hard look, I said, “If you don’t stop the emotional bullshit, I’m out of here. I swear you’re the most lucid drunk I’ve ever seen. Why can’t you be giggling and acting stupid?”
“After the initial buzz, alcohol usually makes me sharper.”
“Lucky me.”
“I just thought we could talk a little. I mean, I’m here every day, but I barely know you.”
“And I’d like to keep it that way.”
Both fury and hurt flashed in her dark eyes. “You’re such an asshole.”
“It’ll do you some good to keep remembering that,” I replied.
“Fine. You want something about me? I’ll give you something. When I was fifteen, I killed my father.”
While I thought my statement might cause her to run, to cower in fear, or at least gasp in shock, she did none of it. She simply stared at me, waiting for me to continue. “That doesn’t freak you out?”
“I always knew you were an outlaw, Jesse James,” she said, with a small smile.
“Is that right?”
She gave a slight nod of her head. “But without you telling me the history between the two of you, I can only imagine it was justified.”
The fucking eerie calm with which she said the words had the same effect as someone dousing me with a bucket of ice cold water. “How can you of all people sit there and say that I was justified? I murdered my own flesh and blood,” I countered.
Easing up in the bed, she pinned me with a stare.
“You want me to be judge, jury, and executioner? Then don’t just tell me that you murdered him.
I may not know you that well, but what I do know tells me you would never kill someone unless you had to.
” Jerking her chin at me, she said, “Tell me what he did to you.”
“I think you’re smart enough to already know.”
“But I need to hear it from you.” Inching closer to me in the bed, she murmured, “I think you need to say it aloud, too.”
Panic pricked its way over my skin. I couldn’t help glancing at the door, anxious to make an escape. No one knew about my old man but me and Preach. There was a possibility that Preach had told Case or some of the other guys, but I doubted it.