Taming Crow (Hells Saints Motorcycle Club) (15 page)

“Terrified.” She nodded.
But not today.

“You sure you want to try this? We can start with something tamer,” Crow offered.

“I am sure.”
Definitely
today
.

“Okay. Let’s do this.”

He gave the attendant a bunch of red tickets and waited while the coaster guy released the latch to the safety bar. Crow put his hands on Melissa’s hips and seated her tight against him in the metal cart. Their bodies touched from shoulder to ankle in the small confined space. Crow leaned and put his arm around the back of Melissa’s shoulder and pulled her even closer.

“Aren’t you supposed to have both hands on the bar to hold on?” She turned to him. Melissa’s eyes were sparkling with excitement and the adrenalin coursing through her body made it hard for her to breathe. Her words came out in breathy little puffs of air as she bit her bottom lip.

Crow looked at her for a long moment then shifted in his seat as if he was suddenly uncomfortable.

“I think I’ll be okay.” He murmured with his lips against her hair. “Hang on, baby, you’re in for a hell of a ride.”

At his words, Melissa white-knuckled the cold, steel bar that pressed against her. The chug-chug motion of the cart, as it made its way up the chain link hill, built a slow and steady sense of danger that Melissa felt deep in her belly. As the ground fell farther and farther away, the sound of the metal belt seemed to click out a loud and steady warning in her ears. At the top the car settled for just a second before it went careening furiously down the track. The tremendous force plastered Melissa tight against Crow and she screamed loud and long at each sudden rush of speed. Melissa hung on to the metal bar again in a desperate attempt to stay seated, afraid that every bump, sway, and curve was going to send her sailing skyward to her certain death. Yet, by the time the sudden stop launched her forward to settle in against the rest of the corralled cars, she was breathless with laughter and excitement. Melissa felt the thrill of having experienced one of the best rides of her life. And she had experienced it with Crow.

It was starting to become an all-too-familiar feeling.

Melissa heard herself laugh out loud as Crow pulled her out of the cart, took her hand and led her down the long metal exit ramp. Still high on the excitement of the ride, she could not hide the smile plastered on her face. Impulsively Melissa stretched up and pressed her lips to Crow's in a brief thank-you. When she pulled back, he caught her wrist with a swift possessiveness that threw her off guard.

“That’s a good look on you, baby
.
”

“What is?” Melissa whispered breathlessly.

“Happiness,” he whispered back.

Melissa's already heightened senses threatened to spill over into orgasmic pleasure when Crow's hand cupped the back of her head and his mouth slammed down on hers.

It was more than a kiss. It was a possession. He took her completely. The sights and smells and sounds of the carnival fell away until there was only that kiss—the deep thrusts of his tongue, the heat of his mouth, the strong possessive grip of his hands on her body.

Then the world came slowly back into focus as Crow’s mouth broke away from hers.

“It's a real good look.” Crow grinned at her and led her into the noise and confusion of the excited crowd.

Although Crow insisted that her son was in good hands and the excitement of the carnival beckoned her forward, Melissa was still nervous about leaving Jett for too long. They returned to the tent after the ride.

And after the kiss.

Melissa debated which one she had found more exciting, the rollercoaster or the lip lock that followed.

Because that kiss was something.

Now that Melissa was seated in the middle of Hells Saints soldiers and their families, she guessed at what it must feel like to be a fly caught in the midst of a spider's web, the air around her charged with a sort of dangerous, relaxed energy.

Of course, as a mom, the first thing Melissa noticed was the children all playing nicely together. Even the older ones were patient and tolerant with the younger kids. She noticed that the prospects who were in charge of watching them had still not moved one inch. Literally. It was obvious that Jett was having a great time. A big sandbox had been set up and at least a hundred Matchbox cars were being played with by a half dozen boys and girls on what looked like little railroad tracks. When Melissa bent over to give her son a quick hug, he looked at her with the biggest smile she had seen on his face since the men had come to stock the backyard pond. Jett was in heaven.

Melissa let herself relax and enjoy the happiness. In a few minutes, she was going to head out with Rosie's mom to take the kids on the merry-go-round and some of other rides. When Charity had approached Melissa with two cold beers in her hand and a friendly smile, Melissa had welcomed the overture of friendship.

Charity had entertained Melissa with funny, irreverent stories of life in the MC. Having grown up in the lifestyle, Charity had the inside view of the badass bikers and she pointed out several of them, telling Melissa hilarious stories based on the testosterone overload they all seemed to be born with. Charity called them "fellatio seeking freaks of nature." The expression had turned Melissa pink and bent her over with laughter at the bawdy tales of love gone wrong for the brothers.

A few minutes ago, Charity had excused herself to go take Rosie to the bathroom and now Melissa sat alone. Crow caught her eye and grinned at her from across the tent where he was off in the corner talking to the man who had the patch that said
president
on the front of his leather cut. Crow had introduced them earlier and then the man had led Crow away to discuss “club bullshit.” Melissa knew that he was Alison's "old man" and Charity and Skye's father. Melissa couldn't remember for sure, but she thought his name had been Judge or Justice …something having to do with the law. Gavel maybe? Melissa let out a soft giggle. She hadn't eaten since breakfast that morning and the cold brew was relaxing her just enough.

Suddenly a big blonde man with steel blue eyes, a thin scar on his face and the body of a linebacker sat down so hard on the other side of the picnic table that it shook Melissa temporarily off balance. He nodded to her, pulled out a flask from the inside of his cut and slowly unscrewed the top. The giant took a long hit of whatever was inside, rubbed the back of his hand to his mouth and reached across the wooden table to offer it to Melissa.

“No thank you. I’m all set.” She  gestured to the beer in her hand while the man seated on the other side of the table spent a deliberate minute ogling her breasts. Since she had been the object of scrutiny for just about everything with a leather vest and a dick for what seemed like hours, it took everything she had not to roll her eyes.

This was getting old.

What was it about these guys that set them back to cavemen time? She forced herself to adopt a bored look when his perusal finally returned to her actual face. Then, because she had had enough of being objectified, Melissa did her own slow sweep of his form.

In addition to the other letters and emblems on the vest, his cut had a patch that read Sergeant at Arms with the words Crownsmount written underneath it. Melissa had been watching him for a while. Who could miss him? Even in a sea of burly outlaws, this man stood at least a head taller and fifty pounds heavier than the rest.

The extra fifty being pure muscle. 

One of his big arms was covered in dramatic dark ink depicting a scene that looked like it came straight from Dante’s Inferno. But the other one simply had a military insignia tattooed on it that Melissa recognized as belonging to the Marines.

Interesting dichotomy.

His crystal blue eyes hit her hard. The long thin scar running diagonally across his face lent itself nicely to the devil incarnate vibe that he had going on.

Yeah. He got it.

He knew exactly how intimidating he was, if that smug expression on his face was any indication.

And he liked it that way.

Melissa knew that the big man had just hit town that day. She had heard the rumble of his motorcycle move up the driveway and had watched from the window as Crow came out of the house and gave him a man-hug in greeting. They had stood outside for a while, lit up a couple of smokes and checked out something on the Harley. At one point in their conversation the big blond visitor had turned and looked directly towards the cottage, with the same sort of hell-fire in his gaze. Melissa had to snap back fast against the curtains to avoid being caught snooping.

Now, hours later, he sat across from her and stared as if she were a puzzle to be solved. The intensity of his gaze gave Melissa the distinct impression that he had her at a disadvantage. She couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that this guy knew far more about her than he should. Several times during the last hour or so she had had the uneasy feeling that he had been watching her. However, when Melissa turned to look at him from across the tent, he never seemed to be looking in her direction.

But there was something.

Suddenly Melissa thought about the unexpected and somewhat disturbing phone call she had received from her dad a couple of weeks ago. Now she wondered if this guy had something to do with the information her father had given her.

Why not take a chance on the sudden hunch?

If she were wrong, she would look pretty damn foolish, but if she were right, it would be sweet to wipe the arrogance off the big biker dude's face. So with that thought in mind, Melissa got her Italian up. She sat a little taller and held her gaze steady while she watched the biker take another hit off his flask.

“So…my guess is you’re Melissa. I’ve been curious as shit to meet the hot little piece from next door,” he smirked.

The hot little piece from next door. Really? Who uses words like that?

Melissa took another hit off her beer and met his eyes over the top of her bottle.

“If you are asking me if I’m Crow’s tenant, then yes,” Melissa put her beer down just a little too hard on the split wooden table.

Now
…

“You’re Jules, right?”

Jules's hand hesitated briefly over the pack of smokes. He quickly recovered, lit up his cigarette and slowly blew a smoke circle in the air.

Right at her.

Game on.

“Nice to finally meet the guy who pulled up my DMV record and ran a check on my family.” Melissa looked him right in the eye.

And there it was.

The surprise that Jules couldn't stop from hitting his face was there and gone in a millisecond, but she had seen it. And he knew she had seen it. He quickly replaced that look with something calculating and menacing.

Melissa met that look head on.

She wasn't sure what game this guy was playing, but she was going to make damn sure she made it clear who he was playing with. Melissa may be
the little piece from next door
, but she was also the granddaughter of Gio Pignatelli and that counted for something. Of course her family would have the resources and connections to know if someone were running a check on her. It was not the first time it had happened, and while the search was enough to get noticed by the people who worked for her family, no one was overly alarmed by it. Melissa was curious about it, though. The inquiry had set off a series of questions in her mind.

Now one of the answers seemed to be sitting in front of her.

When Jules’s ice blue eyes hit Melissa’s heated amber ones with an intense look of speculation, she immediately returned that look.

Stand-off.

A childhood memory of being on the playground and playing a game of Who Blinks First came flooding back to Melissa.

Lucky for her she had been very good at that game.

But unlucky for her, so, apparently, had Jules.

Jett picked that exact moment to arrive with Rosie and a couple of other kids in tow—probably a good thing. Charity trailed them.

“Ready to go on the rides now, Mom?” Jett was breathless with excitement.

“Sure am, honey.” Melissa smiled at him.

Then she turned to Jules.

“This is my son. His name is Jett. He’ll be seven this summer. Jett is going into second grade next year and we are here celebrating because he got all A’s on his report card,” Melissa paused deliberately. “I’m not sure if your file covered the report card part, but now that you know, you might want to add it in.”

This time Jules’s mouth actually dropped open just a little bit and he didn’t even attempt to hide the grudging respect in his eyes. Melissa threw him a small triumphant look and reached for Jett’s hand. Then she and Charity disappeared into the crowd with Rosie and a pack of the Hells Saints offspring leading the way.

“Your bitch knows about the background check,” Jules looked at Crow.

“Don’t call her that. And how do you know?”

“She told me. Knew I was the one who ran it too.” Jules paused. “She ever say shit to you about that?”

“No. Never. Not a word,” Crow pinched his cigarette out and flicked it on the ground.

A series of shouts hit them from across the yard. Crow and Jules watched on as Jury chewed out a prospect.

“He’s wound tighter than a goddamn clock. You feel that? The dude’s on edge.” Jules raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. I feel it. I wish the boss was fucking here.”

“You thinking we got trouble heading our way, Brother?” Jules asked him. "Want me to put in a call?”

“Nah. I got no problem with Jury, but dude has just always seemed a little off to me. Can’t help but feel he’s got a shitload of crazy just waiting to rise up and take charge,” Crow said.

“Yeah. I feel it too.” Jules agreed. “The situation with the Aces and Colombians has everyone jacked up. The decision to back Black is a solid one, but that opens up another whole can of goddamn worms. No telling what that fallout is going to bring. Waiting on the edge of that? Not gonnabe easy for any of us
.
”

They both sat in silence for a minute.

“She aware of anything else I should know about?” Jules asked with deceptive casualness.

Who?” Crow heard the tone.

“Really, man?” Jules replied.

“Yeah.
Really, man
. I know what you're asking. I just can't believe you're fucking asking it,” Crow snarled at his brother.

“Wondering if you’re talking in your sleep, Brother,” Jules responded.

Crow gave him a dangerous look which Jules ignored.

“Just sayin’. Loose lips sink goddamn ships. Word gets out on the alliance to the wrong people at the wrong time and brothers are gonna die.”

“Jesus, man.” Crow’s eyes narrowed. “She’s a massage therapist from Massachusetts. You think she got fuck all to do with this shit?”

“I see your point, Brother. But who the fuck knew she had the juice to find out about the check either.” Jules scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Yeah. There is that,” Crow agreed. “She seem pissed?”

“Hard to tell. Wasn’t really looking at her face when she said that.” Jules grinned. “I was wrong about her tits. Bitch has a nice rack.”

“You call her a bitch again and I’m gonna take a slice outta your tongue,” Crow shot back. “Stop talking about her tits. And definitely stop looking at them.”

“I’ll stop talking about ‘em, but I ain’t gonna promise to stop looking, Brother.” Jules smirked.

“I should just shoot you now,” Crow muttered. Then he paused and added, “What’s your best guess? You think her family has someone monitoring the wires? Thought you said they were small time now?”

“Fucking Italians. Gianni said the Pignatelli boys cut way down on the bookie business, but who knows what else they got going on. He probably didn’t tell me everything. Those damn wops stick together. They are always messing things up for a brother,” Jules said.

Crow looked at Jules and knew that he was thinking about Glory again. He looked so miserable taking that walk down memory lane that Crow felt sorry for him.

“See that redhead by the wall? Nothing Italian happening there and she’s been trying to catch your eye for the past half hour.”

Jules followed Crow’s gesture and saw a decent looking redhead with big tits and tight everything else. She gave him a toothy smile.

“Been a while since I had a redhead. We done here?”

“Yeah, we’re done. Go get her,” Crow said with amusement.

Jules got up and walked toward the redhead with the come-hither smile.