Summer Pain (2 page)

“Tigger!” Logan Marcs appeared at the other end of the hall. “Wait.”

“Like hell.” Tigger knocked Devon aside and grabbed the doorknob, fully expecting to be halted by secured locks.

Instead, the door gave way, and Tigger marched inside. Logan and Devon stayed behind him.

Glaring around the metal partition, he found his confirmation. And instead of rage settling in his veins, he felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

The chains that had bound him had been lifted. Rather than cursing Cara for breaking his heart, he stared at the unfolding scene and the woman who had kept him in check for far too long.

Jake’s head was dropped back. His hips pumped off the bed. And between his large legs, Cara was on her knees.

Without missing a beat, Tigger walked over to the bed. Extending his hand to Jake, he said, “Congratulations, man. She’s all yours.”

Chapter Two

Tigger opened up the throttle and sped down Highway 93 at nearly eighty miles an hour. The wind whipped through his shoulder length hair, fanning out the long locks behind him.

He was pissed. Oh God, he was shaking with rage but, more than anything else, his pride was wounded. In front of his closest friends and their women, Cara had humiliated him.

What made matters worse was the fact that Cara hadn’t so much as offered an apology, which made him wonder all the more. How long had she been doing Jake? Had she made a mockery out of him from the word go?

Tears streamed down his cheeks, and he convinced himself it was the chill from the cold weather, not sadness or remorse tugging at his heartstrings. Wiping his face on his leather-clad sleeve, he pulled into The Shake Shack, a local drive-in with the best chocolate malts in East Tennessee.

Turning off the ignition, he retrieved his cell phone from his jacket pocket and viewed a text message he must’ve received soon after his clubhouse departure. He shook his head as he read:
You got what you deserved. We’re done.

“Fucking bitch. Of course we’re done.” He stuffed the phone back in his pocket. The mix of sadness and rage collided again, leaving him with distorted emotions.

How was he supposed to feel about this? How should he have responded?

About that time, the noise of a roaring bike alerted him to arriving company. Logan Marcs came to a halt beside him, throwing his leg over the seat before facing him with his arms folded over his chest.

“You following me, Marcs?” Tigger asked.

“Just making sure you’re all right.”

“Yeah, man,” Tigger said, playing it cool. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you love her.”

“The fuck I love her.”

“What would you call it then?” Logan asked, his expression marked with compassion and concern.

Tigger and Logan were like brothers. He didn’t know what it was about their friendship, but with Logan he didn’t put up pretenses. He could be
real people
.

His gaze met Logan’s. “Devon was right.”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“No, listen, man. He was right. I couldn’t change her. Down deep, I always knew the real Cara. It’s why I hadn’t proposed. Hell, I figured she’d be on her knees for another club member the moment I didn’t walk the thin line she laid out for me. Turns out, I was right.”

“Doesn’t ease the pain,” Logan pointed out.

Tigger sniffed. “You know what they say. The only way to get over one woman is to crawl under another.”

“Don’t downplay this, Tigger. You cared for her, and I know you’re hurt.”

Tigger glanced at a couple strolling by them with their fingers entwined. He tilted his head at them. “Is it so terrible to want something like that? Is it so God-awful to think I could someday have what you and Sassy have?”

“Of course not,” Logan told him. “And you will.”

“Just not with Cara,” Tigger said, feeling a sense of abandonment for a fleeting second.

“If you tried to establish a permanent relationship with Cara, you’d always suspect her of straying. Is that what you want?”

“She was changing, man,” Tigger told him, wondering as soon as he said the words if he might be trying to convince himself more than Logan. “You don’t know her like I do.”

“I know her pretty well.”

“Shit.” Tigger shook his head. “You’re the only full patch member who hasn’t been in her mouth or between her legs.”

“And I get along with her a lot better than the rest of you because of that fact,” Logan pointed out. “Want a milkshake?”

“No. I’ve changed my mind. I’m gonna ride for a while.”

Logan gripped his shoulder. “Before you take off, I want to ask you something.”

Tigger held up his hand. “I know what you’re gonna say, man. And no, I can’t forgive her. Could you forgive Sassy if she had been the one with her lips locked around another man’s cock?”

“It’s different with me and Sassy, Tigger.”

“Sure it is. I thought it could be different for me and Cara, too. Guess that’s what I get for thinking with the wrong body part.”

* * * *

After Tigger left Logan, he headed for the local watering hole. Located on Tucker Hollow Road, The Big Orange held a prestigious reputation for cold beer and good home cooking. A place the locals frequented whether they arrived on horseback or by motorcycle, the bar wasn’t exactly the top spot for outsiders. It damn sure wasn’t a place for a woman like Summer Pain, the gal who’d been at the Heroes and Rogues clubhouse long enough to turn his life upside down.

“Fancy meeting you here,” Tigger drawled, dragging a barstool out of his way before folding clasped hands atop the bar. Eyeing the barmaid, he quickly added, “Lois, keep me wet. Will ya?”

Lois rolled her eyes, twisted a cap off a bottle and handed him a longneck. “Want to start a tab?”

“For me and the lady,” he replied.

“Aren’t you afraid Cara will come looking for ya?” Summer asked.

“I see someone has been doing their homework.”

Summer pointed at her temple. “Good memory. You called her by name back at the clubhouse, but we weren’t formally introduced.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tigger grumbled. “You caused enough trouble during your short visit to stir a stink with quite memorable fumes.”

“I can’t help it if your woman is the jealous type.”

“She isn’t my woman anymore,” Tigger said, tilting the bottle to his lips and wanting to add
she never really was
but resisting the urge.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Summer sang, scooting away from the bar. “Where’s the little girl’s room?”

Tigger pointed to two nearby doors. “Ladies use the one on the left.”

“Thanks,” she said, disappearing behind the door he’d indicated.

“Do you know what you’re doing, Tigger?” Lois asked, serving a plate of fries to the man seated next to him.

Tigger stroked his chin. “What do you know about her?”

“Summer?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s all I know,” Lois told him. “Her name is Summer.”

Tigger should’ve seen a thousand warnings from where he stood; instead he was all the more intrigued, so he took a seat.

Summer returned. “So did you decide to stay a while?”

“I started a tab.”

“So I heard.” Summer smiled. “Don’t even think about trying to get me tipsy. I may be a lightweight, but I’m not a cheap drunk.”

Tigger’s gaze worked her over before his eyes met the barmaid’s again. Lois shrugged and walked away.

“Maybe I’ll test that,” Tigger said.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Summer turned up her bottle and finished the rest of her beer. “Women worth having don’t come cheap.”

* * * *

“Did you find him?” Cara asked as soon as Logan entered the clubhouse.

“I saw him,” Logan replied, giving Sassy a sensual kiss before taking a seat and pulling her to his lap. “How you doin’, gorgeous?”

She ran her fingers through his hair. “Better now.”

“Give it a rest a minute, you two,” Cara said. “I need to know about Tigger.”

“The way I see it, you lost your rights to ask about Tigger,” Logan said, eying Devon and Victory as they played what they’d later refer to as a serious game of pool.

Cara snapped her fingers in front of Logan’s face. “You know I care about Tigger. Now, talk to me. How’s he doing?”

“Unbelievable,” Logan muttered, locking his arms around Sassy’s middle and drawing her back against his chest.

“Logan, you know I care about him. I want to know he’s all right. Okay?”

“He’s fine,” Logan assured her.

“The hell he is.” Cara slapped her hand against the bar.

Sassy jerked, and Logan was pissed. Sassy had been abused as a child, and any sudden sound or movement often left her nerves shattered.

“How do you think he is, Cara? Hmm? Let me ask you something.” Logan pointed his finger at her, jabbing the digit a mere inch from her nose. “How would you have felt if the shoe had been on the other foot? Hmm? What if he had met that gal who strolled in here—and from what I heard she was a real looker—took one glance at her and decided to take her for a ride? You know the kind of ride I’m insinuating here, Mama. What if he’d fucked her? Hmm? How would you feel?”

“I didn’t screw Jake,” Cara said, tears welling in her eyes.

Logan didn’t believe her. Besides, which was worse? Giving a guy head or riding him all night long?

“You might as well have,” Devon said, joining the conversation from across the room before calling his next shot. “Eight ball, corner pocket.”

He missed. Depending on the bet he and Victory placed on the table, it was probably on purpose. Devon was a pool shark, and he could run the tables on the best of them.

Ignoring Devon, Cara lowered her voice and said, “I didn’t do him, Logan. Tell him, Sassy.”

“Leave her out of this.” Logan glared at Mama. Most MC sheep, regardless of the club, felt a dutiful responsibility to service all club members, when asked. Logan wondered then if Jake had asked or if Cara had sought him out. He would wager on the latter.

“Let me put it to you this way. I’d probably never look at Sassy again if I caught her on her knees sucking another man’s cock. Now, do you have a better understanding of how Tigger probably feels?”

“And Logan is a forgiving person,” Sassy said gently.

“In other words, Mama,” Logan said, deliberately referring to the sheep’s title she’d earned and deserved to keep. “I’d rather catch my woman in bed with another man than to find her mouth around another fellow’s prick.”

“Well, Tigger isn’t you,” Cara said. “Not every man in this place is a self-righteous chauvinist.”

Logan snarled. “Tigger deserved better, Cara.”

“Well, now he can have what you believe he deserves.”

Chapter Three

Tigger thrust his tongue inside Summer’s mouth as he ripped her shirt open. He’d been dying to suck on those tiny, beaded nipples he’d noticed when he first met Summer. Those little babies were like perfect pebbles, and if Summer had been his woman, he would’ve demanded she wear a padded bra.

“Slow down,” she breathed, clasping his wrist when he tried to pull aside the lace covering her breasts.

“I don’t know if I can,” Tigger admitted, pushing her arm lower. “Touch me, Summer.”

A wicked grin claimed her lips. “Beg me.”

“Do what?” he asked, stumbling backward and taking a seat on the bed to play it off.

“You heard me.” She stood between his splayed legs. “Beg me.” She shrugged her arms and shoulders away from her open shirt. “I dare ya.”

“I ain’t beggin’ a woman,” he said, collapsing to the mattress. His head felt as if it weighed fifty pounds. His vision was blurry, and the room began to spin. “God, I’m drunk.”

“I warned you,” she whispered across his lips. “I’m not a cheap bar date.”

“You told me all right,” he agreed, reaching for her. “Let me taste your sugar.”

“My sugar?” she teased, her lips brushing past his. “What else do you want to taste, Tigger?”

“Pussy.”

“Nice,” she said, an uncomfortable snicker filling his ear before her tongue tipped his earlobe. “Is that all?”

“Fuck you,” Tigger whispered. “Let me…fuck you.”

“Not tonight,” she said, slipping her hand inside his jeans and patting his cock. “I don’t think that’s what you need right now.”

Tigger grunted. Shit. He wasn’t even hard. What the fuck had he been thinking? He was attracted to this woman. She was probably the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on, and now, he was lying in her bed unable to get a rise thanks to whiskey shots and too many longnecks.

“Just you wait,” Tigger slurred. “I’ll give you what you need.”

“You will?” she taunted him, stroking his flaccid cock.

“Hmm,” he rasped. “Yeah, baby. I’ll give you what every woman needs. Morning sex. In the morning.”

And with this last drunken promise, he drifted off to sleep.

* * * *

The next day, Tigger awoke with a hangover from hell. Rays of sunlight filled the hotel room, and the heat warmed his cheeks.

Rolling away from the window, he jerked to attention when his arm landed across a female form. “What the—”

A soft mutter fell from Summer’s lips as she curled into a ball, folding a pillow against her small frame.

Planting his palm against the back of his head, Tigger looked down on the petite woman lying next to him. Good Lord, she was the epitome of a true sleeping beauty.

Golden hair fanned around a perfect face with high cheeks, a small nose, and an itty bitty chin. Lifting the sheet, he peered under the covers and was half-relieved, half-irritated, to find her sleeping in flannel pajamas.

Returning the sheet to her small body, he glanced around the room. Where the hell were they? The Ritz?

In Tennessee, the probability of staying in one of the world’s more notable five-star establishments was unlikely, but wherever they were, the place had most likely cost him a fortune.

Polished wood appointments and heavy brass fixtures adorned the room. A sitting area with an uncomfortable-looking sofa, an oval coffee table, and two matching chairs with thick armrests and navy pinstripe upholstery further worried him. How the hell had he ended up in a place like this?