Chasing Down Changes (Moroad Motorcycle Club) (16 page)

"Not true." Focusing on someone else helped her get her mind off of Jeremy's location. "I hold you to the same standard as I hold myself in this business. I would do everything in my power to protect you, but what made you take the risk of working here?"

Marci tilted her head to the side, rolled her lips inward, and sighed. Tiff reached out and squeezed Marci's hand. "Nevermind. I'm being a bitch for asking. I just need to talk about something else rather than sitting here driving myself crazy. Tell me what the ladies said when you informed them they had the rest of the day off."

"You know what they said." Marci pulled her hair over to one side and braided the strands. "I'll answer your question because I had a feeling the man who you need to distract yourself from is Jeremy, and I've heard the rumors that he was your life years ago."

Tiff stayed quiet. She never talked about him with anyone, ever. Her past remained buried so far deep in Federal even the people who were aware of them being together had no idea how she lived each day without him or the effect he had on her by coming back.

"I agreed to work for you because it's the farthest thing anyone would suspect me of doing." Marci wrinkled her nose. "My parents are both professors at a college in Washington. Great people. They're kind, giving, and smart."

"Do you talk with them?"

"All the time." Marci unfolded her legs. "I love them, but I have no desire to live in the area or have them involved in my life."

"Why not?"

Marci leaned closer. "I'm married, and my husband lives two miles from my folks."

"I...you are? But why are you here?" She clicked her tongue. "Sorry. I had no idea."

"Nobody here knows, but everyone back home does." Marci stood. "Someday, I'll get a divorce and be able to move on with my life. In the meantime, I'm working for you and loving what I do. Things are okay."

She wanted to ask if Marci's husband was abusive or if she loved him, but she refrained from asking more questions. "I'm glad you enjoy living and working here. You've helped me so much. I'd be lost without you."

"Eh. You'd be fine." Marci laughed as if sharing part of her life story wasn't a huge deal. "Now, let's get ready for tonight. We've got an hour before the dancers show up, and you need help hiding the damage you've done to your eyes. I think it's time for you to wear the new purple dress."

"Oh, hell no." She followed Marci into the bedroom. "I never should've bought that dress. It's too much for Federal."

"Exactly." Marci turned and grabbed her shoulders, her gaze serious. "I don't know what is going on, but you have a man that would appreciate that purple dress. You're wearing it."

Against her saner thoughts saying she deserved more than second place to Lola, her wishful thinking won out, and had her believing she could win Jeremy if she looked pretty.

She wore the dress.

She went downstairs.

She put on a smile and welcomed the customers into Silver Girls.

The whole time her stomach tied itself in knots. Jeremy still hadn't come back to her.

K
urt Ramchett, Bantorus Motorcycle Club's president, pushed out the back door of the Sterling Building. Jeremy parked at the curb, got off his Harley, and raised his hand, stopping Kurt from shutting the door. He'd arrived back later than planned after his talk with Lola.

"Aldridge." Kurt held out his hand. "You coming in to watch the show?"

Jeremy shook and lifted his chin, grabbing the door before it swung closed. "Yeah."

Kurt slipped on his leather vest. "My men will be by in a few minutes to escort the women back to the club."

"There's several Moroad members inside. We'll keep an eye on everyone." Jeremy put his boot in the doorway. "I had something to do earlier and got back late, but you should know I'm living upstairs now."

Kurt raised his brows. "That's good to know. With the shelter women who rent the rooms upstairs and the amount of men that come visiting Silver Girls, I'll feel better knowing the Bantorus girls have a Moroad member on site."

"Right." Jeremy gazed out at the other Harley parked at the curb. "New bike?"

Kurt grinned. "Present for myself."

"The best kind." Jeremy nodded. "Ride free."

"Always." Kurt walked away to his bike.

Jeremy slipped inside, shut the door, and turned the lock. He'd set the alarm once the customers left.

He glanced at his cell phone. Fuck, twenty minutes until closing. It had taken him longer than he planned to get away from his MC brothers in the parking lot of the motel after leaving Lola to Bear's company. One beer turned into two, and everyone wanted to find out what was happening inside the prison system.

Following the music, he stepped into the main room and leaned against the back wall in the shadows. He spotted Tiff beside the front door, opposite side of the room from him. His body warmed and pulsed.

Decked out in a dark purple—almost black dress, her hair loosely piled at her neck, she gazed at the dancers with the look of a woman deep in thought. His gut tightened. Or, a woman hurt beyond repair.

He'd challenged her today and then left her to attend business. When all he wanted to do was take her upstairs and show her how much the lie she told to the deputy meant to him. He'd given her one chance to get rid of him, and she'd balked.

She wanted him.

He only needed to prove he was staying for her to come around and accept him in her life. Then she'd realize he could give her the life she deserved. Together, nobody could touch them and he'd protect her. Not because she hadn't done a fucking good job of setting herself up in business, but because she needed more protection to fully enjoy the life she'd built.

The music rose and fell, casting silence in the room until the customers added their cheers. The lights came on. He slipped out into the hallway, knowing Tiff opened the door to personally escort the customers outside while the dancers escaped into the backroom to dress and exit out the back.

Katie, Jessie, and Tina waved and touched him on their way out of the room. He followed them with his gaze, surprised all over again by the changes in them. Next to the younger women he hadn't gotten to know yet, the original Moroad women fit right in, comfortable with their surroundings and their role with the club.

When the front door shut, he stepped back into the room. Tiff's back straightened, and she turned. A soft gasp escaped, and he unhooked his fingers from his front pockets. He wanted the little burst of air from her lips on his skin, reminding him that he was free.

"I-I thought you'd left," she said, walking toward him slowly on higher than fuck heels.

His gaze traveled her body, landing on her eyes when she was within reach. "I had business to take care of."

"Hm..." She walked around him.

He grabbed her arm, stopping her. "Learn to trust me again, huh?"

She settled her gaze on his chest. "Maybe you need to earn my trust."

"I'm doing that." He pulled her up tight against him. "Been doing it for close to eighteen years, baby."

She raised her chin, challenging him. "Where did you go?"

"Does it matter?"

"Sometimes I think nothing matters, except for the moment," she said.

"This moment?"

She pursed her kissable lips and raised her bare shoulder. "Whatever moment I want to grasp and experience to keep from remembering the million times I want to forget."

"Do you remember?"

"Absolutely," she whispered. "But, I gave up on dreaming about tomorrow when I lost the man I loved to the prison system."

Deep in his chest rumbled with awareness of the depth of her hurt. He swallowed. "Go see to your dancers and come back to me."

She moistened her lips. "You can go upstairs and wait for me in the suite. It'll be a little while until I can lock the door and set the alarm."

"No." He stared into her eyes. "I want you right here, wearing that dress, looking at me exactly that way, because I'm not done looking at you yet. You wore that dress for me, and every man tonight enjoyed it. It's my turn and from now on, I'm not going to be as lenient about who gets to look at what belongs to me."

The vein at the base of her slim neck pulsed. He leaned in closer. "You could've thrown me away today, and you kept me. That meant a lot to me, baby."

She looked away and slowly turned, walking out of the room. Her strut a little unsteady. Her hands fidgeted in worry. He bit down on his lip, aching in places he'd never hurt before over wanting her.

He took his need for her and fueled it into patience. Everything would work out in time. The club came first, and the extortion money they pulled from Blues, Reds, and Los Li supported every member inside and out. He'd learn the ins and outs of Red Light, and keep Bantorus MC far enough away from the business to satisfy them.

The sheriff of Federal remained the wildcard.

Sheriff Colby mentioned retiring soon. Two years were nothing in Jeremy's world. What would happen after Tiff lost protection from the good side of the law?

He moved through the tables scattered around the room and sat in a chair near the front of the stage. His cock, hard and seeking attention after being in the same vicinity as Tiff—smelling her, touching her, seeing her — protested the position. He grabbed his crotch and rearranged himself into a more comfortable position, stretching out one leg to give himself more room. He planned on a nice and slow night.

Twenty minutes later, the
click
of heels on the wood floor grew louder as the women filed out the backdoor and silence rolled into the room. He clasped his hands behind his head and watched the opening to the room, ready for when Tiff made her appearance.

She strolled into the room. He lowered his arms, letting his hands lay on his thighs. The sway of her hips hypnotized him. All the blood in his body gathered and pounded in his cock, screaming for him to look at the woman coming toward him.

Fuck, he was looking.

He couldn't look away.

Tiff came to him a woman with moves that she'd failed to achieve when she was twenty years old. Moves that mystified him, because he never imagined in all the years of picturing her in his head that she would ever have patience and the experience of a woman who understood how to work her body.

He recognized the upturned corner of her mouth. The sexy slant of her eyes. The hands that continually touched her stomach because she was aware of what she was doing and she wanted him to look.

She wanted him to take her.

She wanted him to satisfy her need to be loved.

God, he missed her smile and laughter. The way she used to look at him all serious and suddenly burst out in laughter, making him feel as if nothing fucking mattered except keeping her happy.

"Stop." He inhaled deeply, forcing himself to wait. "Turn around."

She tilted her head in silent question and hesitantly pivoted. He gazed at the slope of her hips. Her ass pushed at the tight dress while she shifted from one foot to the other. The solid, slim legs he'd had wrapped around his waist, his thighs, his head.

"Jeremy?" she whispered.

He rubbed his hands on this thighs, unable to take his gaze off her backside. "Yeah, baby?"

"I need to tell you something." Her hands disappeared in front of her and came back into view clenched.

"Turn around," he said.

She shook her head. "It's easier if I don't look at you."

He ran his hand down his beard. "I scare you."

He stated the truth, stopping her from admitting her fear. Since he'd been back, he'd noticed more than her body language and heard more in her words than she willingly gave him. What he failed to understand was after the time they'd spent together talking, fucking, adjusting to a new routine, why she'd still be scared of him.

"You've changed." Her upper body expanded with her breath. "You're bigger."

"You had me in your body."

"I know," she answered quickly. "That's not what I'm saying. You don't budge. You're like this huge person who controls every aspect of your life now. There's no way I can fight against you. Not like I used to. Everyone you come in contact with jumps when you move, either to do what you've said or to stay out of your way. I've seen your dad, Jeremy. He's listening to you. Before you left, he was the bigger person, and now he's looking at you as if what you say needs to be heard."

He frowned. "Turn around."

"No." Her hands lifted and then fell against her sides in defeat. "I don't know where I fit in with you. You put off this bigger attitude that I'm not used to and it..."

"Turn the fuck around now," he said.

She swiveled on her heel and looked at him. "Can I finish before you get mad?"

He nodded.

"You scare me, but—"

"But what?"

She tapped the spike of her heel against the floor. "Stop interrupting me."

"You're doing a hell of a job telling me the way I am now turns you on." He chuckled. "That's not fear making you shake, baby. I'd bet my freedom that your panties are wet."

"I hate you," she whispered, succumbing to the emotions overwhelming her and cupping her elbows.

"Good." His voice came out deep and raw, scratching his throat. "Cause the same passion that makes you hate my guts and makes you believe you want to kill me comes from the same reason you stood up to the deputy and lied your little heart out to keep me out of prison."

"You have no idea why I do anything." She lifted her chin.

He unbuckled his belt, undid the buttons on his jeans, and lifted his ass off the chair high enough to slide the material down and freed his cock. "Then show me why you want to keep me."

She stepped forward and stopped. He pushed back the edges of his vest. Her hesitation ended tonight.

"You have one second to get your ass over here, or I'm going to stand up and bend you over the table at your side and take my fill." He growled when she remained too far away from him. "Now."

She hurried over and stood between his spread legs. His chest warmed, and he reached out and ran his hand up her smooth leg, under her dress, and hooked her thigh bringing it over his right leg.