Hot as Hades (18 page)

“It wasn’t love,” Eddie said quietly.

“What?”

“You heard me. What both of our mothers felt wasn’t real.
Real
love doesn’t feel like that. But obsession does, especially when there’s power and control in a relationship. It presents itself as love. But I didn’t know the difference until I met my husband.” She flipped her arm over, studying the name
Joker
inked on her skin. “I know you aren’t going to believe this right now, but he made me stronger, better than I was before I met him. “

Daisy stared at her, unsure what to think. This woman seemed to be powerful, in control. Maybe there was some truth in her words?

She smiled softly. “If you want my advice? You’ll give Cowboy a shot.”

“I’m not in love with Cowboy,” she said quickly.

“No, you aren’t. Not yet. But you like him a lot and you might just spend the rest of your life wonderin’ what would have happened if you’d given him a chance. Take it from someone who is a tad older, but much wiser, my only regrets are the things I’ve talked myself out of.”

Just then, Elizabeth came back to the table, and the conversation turned to a lighter subject, but Daisy filed away the conversation with Eddie. She had a lot to think about.

***

Cowboy felt like shit.

He sat in a booth at Hades drinking coffee and pushing lukewarm fries around on his plate. He had the hangover from hell and tonight, he had to watch Daisy strip on stage and pretend it didn’t faze him. He should have ordered a side of saltpeter with his spuds. This
polite, we’re-just-partners bullshit
was a major mindfuck.

When he’d taken this gig, he had no fucking clue how much it would bother him to watch horny dickheads pant after her. He couldn’t help it, had to be built into his DNA. Men had a protective urge for women they cared about and he liked Daisy, worried about her.

The hellions at his clubhouse were a fun physical release every now and again, but it felt, hollow and empty compared to what he’d had with Melissa. After his wife died, he thought he’d never feel that way about anyone else.

He was wrong.

Daisy stirred something in him; something he’d thought had died with Melissa. And he didn’t have a fucking clue what to do about it. He’d been ordered to keep it professional with her and Lord knows Daisy had some serious hang-ups when it came to letting people in. Not to mention, the very real danger they were both in. His feelings for her were inconvenient as hell.

As if he’d willed her to his side, Daisy walked in the door and stalked towards him. His chest tightened and his cock pulsed to life in his jeans, already primed from thoughts of seeing her nearly naked again.

 “Where’ve you been?” he asked, and then cursed under his breath. Partners don’t ask personal questions.

“I had tea with Elizabeth and Eddie,” she supplied as she vaulted over the back of the booth and into her seat.

He thought back to the way she’d made the pole her bitch at the club
.
“How’d you get so fucking agile? Gymnastics?”

She snatched a fry from his plate. “Try karate. I’m a black belt and very,
very
bendy.”

Sweet Jesus.

 She’d just unleashed a truckload of masturbatory fantasies, karma sutra kinds of shit, which would hurt like hell the next day.
Sex wounds, always hot.
“I see,” he croaked.

Daisy watched him, a calculating expression on her face.

“What?” he asked.

 “What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “You seem
off
.”

“Just hung-over.” He set his Stetson down on the table and smoothed his hair, tried to pull his shit together once more. But images of her riding him hard made it difficult.

With a grin, she picked up his hat and set it on her head. “Know what? I’m going to borrow this. I need it for my show tonight.”

Before he could protest, she breezed out of the diner.

Cowboy might be a resident of Hell, but he had no doubt tonight Daisy would teach him exactly what it felt like to live in the real deal.

***

Daisy scanned the crowd.

Yet another group of military guys howled and catcalled strippers from their place around the stage. The rest of the audience? All Raptors. They sat drinking whiskey, bullshitting.

In the dressing rooms, the dancers had been briefed on the Raptor’s club meeting tonight. They were supposed to be
friendly
to the bikers tonight
.
She had a really horrible feeling being
friendly
meant screwing them.

Daisy hadn’t been on stage in a little while, and she’d never performed for such a large crowd before. The thought alone made her nervous. She wore Cowboy’s black Stetson pinned to her head so it wouldn’t fall off, a pink thong, and an ebony bra connected with a long pink ribbon tied in a bow. She’d paired it with matching black thigh highs and heels. A tied off, white button down shirt hung loosely around her waist. She’d grabbed a black cane from the prop room for her act, to complete the ensemble.

Aerosmith’s
Pink
started up and she slowly left the safety of the red velvet curtain and wandered into the pink mood lighting drifting in concentric circles down the length of the catwalk. She focused on Cowboy who watched her with those intense blue eyes of his.

She slowly sauntered past the men and finally placed herself on a black chair in the middle of the stage, legs crossed, resting her hands on the cane. She did her best to appear demure. The white shirt slipped from her shoulder, exposing the bra beneath. She splayed her legs and ran her hands down them. Then, stood, wiggling her bottom a bit. She felt the bikers’ eyes on her, watching her every little move and the power went straight to her head.

Daisy slid to the floor and then shimmied up again, moving her hips in a saucy way. When she peeked at Cowboy, she saw his lips part.

Bracing herself on the cane, she slid to her knees and rubbed her hands up and the down the thick, black length of it. Pantomiming what she’d love to do with Cowboy’s cock. She locked eyes on him and slowly licked the length of the cane.

The men roared at her display, but Cowboy didn’t, his cheeks hollowed and he looked so hungry, watching her every little movement with a predatory expression.

She moved to all fours, crawling down the catwalk. Then bent her knees, balanced on her palms and thrust back and forth, tossing her hair and writhing like a wild thing. She turned to face the backstage curtain, grasped the cane, and stuck her ass out. Shaking it, as she slowly stood up.

The Raptors cheered her on.

Daisy sauntered to the chair once more, swaying her hips and she suddenly realized she was enjoying herself. She had the room’s attention and completely on her own terms. They bayed at her feet like a throng of horny hound dogs and it gave her a heady sense of control.

She braced her hands against the seat and rolled her hips from side to the side with the music, flipping her hair. Then stood up then and slowly undid the rest of the buttons on her shirt, pausing in between to touch her body, running her hands down her neck and chest, across her thighs, inadvertently turning herself on.

Though, she suspected it might be her response to the way Cowboy stared at her, like he wanted to eat her. She turned around, peeking at him over her shoulder. She could feel the crowd on edge, willing her to drop the shirt and then she let slowly it drift to the stage behind her. The sexual tension ramped up in the room.

But she only gave a damn what one man thought.

She whirled around, arms wrapped around her chest and continued to tease as she wandered to the edge of the stage. She pointed to different men and made a great show of pretending to choose one.

Bikers sat up in their chairs, puffed out their chests, eager to play.

She only wanted one man.

Daisy crooked a finger at Cowboy. She could see the hesitation in his eyes. He froze for a moment and she just knew he wondered if this stunt would somehow blow their cover. It didn’t have to, if he just went along with it. She’d made it seem very random.

She meandered back to the chair, turned it to the side, so the men would have a better view. Then pointed to him and at the empty chair again. A couple of men shouted they would be happy to take his place, but she shook her head. Bikers slapped Cowboy on the back, cheering him on and he reluctantly got to his feet and slowly climbed the stairs. His eyes blazed with lust and anger. She could practically feel it rippling off him.

He sat down and crossed his arms over his chest.

Daisy rocked her hips, before she grabbed his hand, bringing it to the silky ribbon between her breasts. She had tied the ribbon with a very loose knot and when she slowly backed away from him, it came undone in his fingers.

 Her breasts swung free and the bikers shouted in lustful delight.

Cowboy sucked in a breath, eyes fastened on her pebbled nipples. She could see two instincts warring. He wanted to watch her, enjoy the display. Another, darker, possessive instinct demanded he grab her up and shield her from the other men.

So much fun to tease him.

She nodded to girl handling the music and Big & Rich’s
Save a Horse (Ride a Cowboy)
started up. With a shout, she strutted up and down the stage and the bikers sang along with her, all of them knew the words by heart. This was Texas after all, home of the almighty cowboy.

She glanced over her shoulder at Cowboy, mouthing the lyrics, and shaking her butt. Something in her wanted to push him to the edge, see him lose control for once.

After she whipped up the crowd, she straddled one of his legs, pushed her breasts in his face and rocked in time to the music.

He clutched at her hips.

She leaned back on his legs, bucking on his lap, pretending she rode him like one of the broncos he’d broken in. Cowboy strained beneath her; the muscles in his arms were taut. She could see his hard cock straining in his jeans. She fucking loved the way the corner of his mouth lifted up into a snarl. He had an animalistic hunger nearly impossible to resist.

And then the world fell away…

Daisy didn’t hear the roaring bikers around her anymore, or the music for that matter. The only thing in the universe was Cowboy.

She lowered herself further and surreptitiously, reached between them, moving the crotch of her panties to one side, just enough to bare her clit. No one could see her exposed pussy from the position, but she knew Cowboy had gotten a little glimpse because he sucked in a breath.

 “What the fuck are you doin’, Wildcat?” he growled in her ear.

He’d called her Wildcat again!

“Just getting closer to you.” She sighed, leaning down to press her forehead against his. She braced her hands on his shoulders and arched against his fabric-covered cock, letting the rough denim graze her clit, the seam of his jeans provided just the right amount of friction.

Daisy could feel him pulsing beneath her. Cowboy locked eyes on her, watching her strain against him.

 “I need you,” she whispered. She’d gotten carried away by her own game. The physical distance between them lately was nearly bad as the emotional. She’d wanted to be closer to him, touch him. Just like this.

She ground against him, rubbing the seam of his jeans against her sensitive clit, faster and faster, until finally she came, tucking her head into the curve of his shoulder, crying her release in his ear.

Chapter Fourteen

What the fuck is wrong with me?

A rumble of thunder boomed overhead as Cowboy sat dazed on the bench outside of his room at Hades. He wished it would rain already. The air felt downright oppressive, so wet you could practically wade through it. He scanned the deserted parking lot. He had no idea where Voodoo gone and didn’t see his red Devil’s Advocate Chopper in the lot. Other than himself and Daisy, no other people had checked in at the motel.

Cowboy had pulled his Harley back up on the sidewalk, under the awning, since it started sprinkling twenty minutes ago. He’d just gotten it back from Seventh Circle Motors and he’d been amazed by Axel’s handiwork. His brother not only handled mechanical repairs, but also specialized in body work. The skill set came in handy, too, especially considering how much trouble the club got into.

Where the fuck is she?

He checked his watch again, just as the fluorescent light above his head flickered and went out. He liked the sudden darkness, it suited his mood. After Daisy’s shift had ended, he’d waited about twenty minutes after she left and then hauled ass out of there. But she hadn’t been at the hotel waiting for him. He was caught somewhere between worry and anger. What if she’d been manhandled by another horny biker?

Jesus.
He needed to get a grip. She’d made it abundantly clear she only wanted a partner, not a boyfriend, despite her show earlier in the evening. So, why the fuck was he acting like one? Marines don’t need babysitters, so maybe he should haul his ass to bed, jerk off, and get some fuckin’ sleep.

But he couldn’t sleep until he knew she was safe. Shit.He promised himself he’d give it ten more minutes and then go after her ass. He started to wish he’d let Duke chip her, so he could track her down whenever he took a notion.

He leaned back on the bench and tried to calm the fuck down. A crack of thunder split the sky and then it opened up. Finally! The rain pounded down on the pavement, causing steam to rise, waves of it came rolling in from the lot.

Just then, Daisy pulled in and killed the engine. She vaulted out of the truck, tilted her head towards the heavens and let the rain sluice down over her. She’d changed after work and the rain soaked through the thin cotton of her shirt, revealing the lacy bra beneath. She slung her hair from side to side, closing her eyes and letting the water wash over her. Like some sort fuckin’  wet T-shirt contest.