Iron & Bone (Lock & Key #3) (26 page)

I sipped on my cool drink, hoping it would provide me with calm, confidence, mettle.

Ha.

I still hadn’t told Boner about Catch’s phone call. I didn’t like keeping anything from him, but I really didn’t want to start more problems.

Finger would never agree to something like that.
Maybe Catch was just mouthing off, maybe he was just—

“You good?” Boner stroked my back.

“Huh? Oh, very good.”

Boner pressed his lips together, his arm slinging around my neck. “I talked to her. She won’t be a problem.” He tilted his head toward the bar.

“You talked to Mindy?”

“Of course I did.”

“You broke it off with her?”

“There was nothing to break off. We were just a hook-up.”

I shifted on my suddenly uncomfortable wooden chair.

“I wanted her to know from me that it wasn’t gonna happen again, that it was done,” he said.

I leveled my gaze at him. “That’s what you want?”

His forehead furrowed. “Are you kidding me?”

I swept a lock of hair from my face. “I’m just asking.”

“Look at me.” Boner’s sharp eyes studied me, green beams of laser seeking truth not to be denied. He leaned in closer to me. “We fucked the other day, or did you forget? Did you forget the way it was?”

How could I forget?

I was still sore, sore and warm everywhere. Even my nipples now zinged into stones just from the sound of him saying
fucked
in that rough, harsh tone.

“No, no, I haven’t forgotten.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Then, what? What is it?”

I took in a small breath. “I feel like I’ve disrupted your life, and I don’t want that. I don’t want you to feel like I’m holding you back.”

“And again, are you fucking kidding me? I’m with you. I
chose
to be with you.”

“Because you felt like you had to, because you’re a stand-up guy. Because circumstances—”

“Because I’m selfish when it comes to you.”

I blinked.

“Get this straight in your head, Jill. I don’t want anyone else. I don’t want to be with anyone else. I don’t want to be
inside
anyone else. This whole discussion is pissing me off because this tells me that the way I was with you in bed, in the kitchen, on the kitchen table, on the floor has not proven this to you or made it clear.”

His eyes flashed, and the bottom dropped out of me under their force. Even my clit pulsed.

I pressed my legs together. “I-I didn’t mean
that
.”

“So, I’m wrong in assuming—”

“Yes.”

“I don’t need to make any adjustments then?” he asked.

“Adjustments?”

“In bed, in the kitchen, on the—”

Hell no.

He was a sexual powerhouse—stamina, passion, attention to detail, tender and raw, generous and communicative. We’d even tried anal sex, which I’d done before, but never really enjoyed much. With Boner taking his time with me and being gentle, encouraging, and even funny, I’d relaxed and enjoyed it a hell of a lot.

“No. No adjustments needed.” I touched his face, my fingers dragging through his newly trimmed beard.
I need to touch him.
He raised his chin and lowered his eyelids at the contact. “Boner, my point is, I don’t want you to feel restricted.”

“Restricted?”

“You’ve been a free agent since forever. And now—”

Music flared from the small stage, and the lights dimmed. One of the musicians began playing a ballad on his acoustic guitar as his bandmates got organized. The din of the crowd settled. The bar was thick with people, every table filled, and the staff hustled with drink orders.

Boner’s eyes flickered over me. His body hardened against mine. “Something wrong? You feeling stuck? Restricted?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.”

“I wouldn’t call it restricted.”

“What would you call it?”

“Overwhelmed,” I blurted.

A shadow passed over his face, giving his hollow cheeks an even sharper appearance. He cupped the back of my head. “Jillee, I know I get intense. If it’s bothering you—”

“No.” I pressed a hand onto his chest and rubbed over a pronounced pec. “I like your intensity. A lot.”

My face was very hot, and I was sure my skin was a thousand shades of pink and cherry red.

He took my hand in his and kissed it. “So, this is the good kind of overwhelming?”

“Yeah,” I breathed, staring at my hand nestled in his larger one. “I just thought that, since this arrangement is a temporary thing, I don’t want it to be a confusing one, too. I’m trying hard not to be overwhelmed, which might only lead to more confusion, which might then make you feel uncomfortable and restricted.”

He shot me that now familiar but still jarring what-planet-are-you-from look.

“Because here I am,” I continued, “the ex of your new hostile enemy, and now, I’m suddenly your old lady. I’m the new commitment, which you’ve never had before, and I don’t want to be a burden.”

His hand wrapped around my neck and pulled me close, his mouth crashing on mine, taking, declaring, giving. Everything spun on that kiss.

“I’ve wanted you for a long time, Jill. A long fucking time,” he said, our faces mere degrees apart, his beautiful eyes boring into mine. “I had to make a move. I made it. I didn’t do it ’cause I felt sorry for you or felt bad. I did it because it was right. Right for me, for you, for Catch. Yeah, and for Super-baby over here.”

He rubbed a hand across my belly.

“Firefly, every which way you turn this Magic Eight Ball, there’s only one message that floats up to the top, and that message is,
Yes
.”

I laughed, and he planted a quick kiss on my lips.

“So, yeah, your douche bag ex might have tipped my hand,” he continued, “but I’m glad he did. I like sleeping with you and waking up with you whenever we can. I like your kid. I like your cooking. I fantasize about your body and your mouth all the fucking time. I like being close to you. And after the baby’s born, I’m gonna have you tied to my bed and strapped around me on the back of my bike, and then you’ll know the meaning of the word
overwhelmed
.”

My heart stuttered.

“Neither of us wanted a commitment in the beginning, Firefly, but you know what? I’m liking it, and I think you do, too. So, relax, and let yourself like it. What the fuck?” He dipped his head and whispered in my ear, “I want you overwhelmed.”

I held him close, drinking in his scent, savoring the hard wall that was his chest, the silken brush of his hair against my skin. My eyes shut, and I pressed against him.

He was my thrill. My high. He was my castle fortress against the evil eyes of Mindy and Catch and whatever other dark clouds were rising in the horizon because they always were.

To hell with all of them.

“I think I get it,” he whispered.

“Get what?”

“You’re jealous.”

“Jealous?”

He cast a quick glance toward Mindy at the bar.

I averted my gaze and let out a huff of air. “Well, just a little,
little
bit.”

He kissed the side of my face, laughing. “Jillee, you got pieces of me no one’s ever had.”

My heart banged against my ribs, and I buried my face in his throat and hugged him.

The guitarist ended his ballad, his imploring voice still hanging in the air. Applause and cheers thundered through the old bar. The spotlight shone on Allen, the bassist Grace knew.

Boner’s arm settled over my shoulders, and I curled into him. Happy aches spun through me, fresh shivers, deeper heat.

After all those months of circling each other, even now that we’d had sex, those feelings of wanting him, of liking him, had only intensified, not abated.

At the outset, I had thought that my crush on Boner was a fascination born of simple physical attraction and deeply engraved insecurities.

But I was wrong.

A need had grown inside me and taken hold, taken root, a need for him that was more like a calling. And his confidence in an
us
only pitched propane at that fire.

I brushed his cheek with my lips.

Overwhelming.

“
I DON’T THINK
I’ve ever liked popcorn this much. This is actually tasty.” Boner held the huge stainless steel bowl in his lap and shoved fluffy kernels in his mouth. We lounged on Rae’s living room sofa, watching television.

“It’s air-popped organic with butter and sea salt.”

His hand stilled over the bowl, a dark eyebrow raised. “I love it when you talk gourmet.”

I let out a laugh and handed him a fresh beer. “It’s hardly gourmet.”

“It’s light-years better than that microwave crap.”

“That microwave crap will kill you.”

He glanced at me, munching. “Have you always been into food?”

“My mom loved to cook, and that used to be our thing together, cooking and baking.” I tucked my legs underneath me and sank onto the sofa next to him. “And Rae is an amazing cook. She can’t stand over the stove for too long anymore, so she sits and gives me directions. She’s taught me a lot of her family recipes, and I like that, it’s important. I enjoy it. It’s a creative way to unwind and spend time with someone, and in the end, you’re left with something yummy to eat.”

Our attention went back to the television.

He stroked my thigh. “I like binge-watching TV with you.”

“Because I feed you?”

“Yeah, that, too, but it’s nice. Just hanging here—calm and quiet, you and me. Rae and Becs in the next room all snug. Tania somewhere else.”

I giggled.

“See? You like it, too, Firefly.”

“I never would’ve thought that you would enjoy this sort of thing—watching television with a girl on a couch with her kid
and
a parental figure in the next room.”

“Baby, going out with the boys and doing what we usually do gets to be just that—the usual—after a while.”

“You’ve had girlfriends you’ve spent time with though, right?”

“Yeah, but—”

“But not like this?”

My mind went to Mindy at the coffee shop, Mindy at Pete’s. Perfect body, super confident, stripper pole-pro Mindy. She’d probably invite Boner over to her house and open the door, naked and slathered with whipped cream and strawberry syrup. She wouldn’t have made him popcorn and snuggled up to him on the sofa to watch an entire season of
The Red Road
.

He tossed more popcorn into his mouth. “Not like this, no.”

And there you go.

I shifted on the sofa, unbuckling my legs, pressing my bare feet into the edge of the coffee table. Of course,
this
was different for him. This was nice plus comfy plus easy plus no frills, which equaled boring.

He pressed into me, a hand wrapping around my thigh. “I like this. This is way better. Spending time with my woman like this, in the comforts of home.”

Great, he’d sown his wild oats, and now, he was with me—the
comforts of home
.

That was me all right. Here, in my casual light-blue sundress and flip-flops, my hair up in a ponytail, a dash of mascara and whatever had been left of my eyeliner pencil I’d rushed to apply just before he’d arrived two hours ago.

I wiggled my dark purple–painted toes on the coffee table. At least I’d gotten a manicure, a pedicure, and had my eyebrows threaded with Grace and Tania this morning. That was saying something. I’d been so proud of getting my ass in gear for that, so together.

Oh, brother.

Mindy probably had a regular weekly appointment with her mani-pedi-waxing lady.

I knew what the Mindys of the world were like up close. I’d been with Catch as his old lady for almost three years. I’d lived with the club girls, the hanger-on chicks, the other old ladies. You had to be on your A game at all times to hold on to your man and keep the wolves at bay. Being with Catch—rather, trying to be with Catch—had taught me that.

Yes, Boner was different—older, more mature (mature, period!), definitely wiser, incredibly sexy but in a darker way than Catch. But like Catch, he was a very, very attractive man with power at his MC.

Although Boner was a man in his mid-forties and a senior member of his club, he was definitely not some old coot drinking in the corner twenty-four hours a day and riding only when he absolutely had to and only if his arthritis wasn’t acting up. Something must be in the water in Meager because even Willy, the eldest member of the club, was incredibly fit, a carpenter by trade who kept up his own business on the side. He’d consistently join in on runs, and he always had a younger woman on his lap.