Devil's Game

Uggh.

We were definitely spending Christmas in Portland.

EPILOGUE

SIX WEEKS LATER

PORTLAND, OREGON

The coffee shop was supposed to close at four that afternoon, but of course I had a couple of customers lingering. That wasn’t usually a problem. I just flipped the “Closed” sign and cleaned up while they finished.

Unfortunately, these two guys were camped out for the long haul. They’d each bought a small cup of tea two hours ago and had been arguing ever since about whether God was dead or simply never existed. Cookie didn’t like to kick people out, but she was also willing to draw the line in situations like this. I hated to ask them to leave, though. We couldn’t afford to lose customers.

Unfortunately, the shop wasn’t doing that great and I was worried about her. I felt guilty over moving to Kelsey’s apartment, too, although realistically Cookie hadn’t been charging me enough to make much of a difference in her monthly budget. I still tried to babysit for her whenever I could, and I’d even gone over last week and cleaned the house.

That single-parenting shit was exhausting just to watch. I couldn’t imagine actually being in her shoes.

The door jingled as it opened.

“I’m sorry, we’re close—” I started to say, then broke out in a smile when I saw it was Hunter. I supposed eventually I’d get to the point when I didn’t feel totally giddy every time I saw him, but we weren’t there yet.

“You get off work early?” I asked. He’d started a regular job at a mechanic’s shop two weeks ago, although they seemed to be unusually flexible with his hours. I figured there was a story there. I also figured I’d probably never hear it. So far as I could tell, the shop was heavily financed by the Devil’s Jacks. At least he didn’t lie about it—Hunter had been painfully truthful with me ever since our fight over the pictures. This was a double-edged sword, something I discovered the first time I asked him whether an old sweater of Kit’s made me look fat.

(Apparently it did.)

“Burke’s in town,” he said shortly. Then he jerked his chin toward the two hipsters hoarding their tepid tea dregs in the corner. “Why are they still here? You closed half an hour ago.”

I shrugged.

“Chasing out customers feels wrong to me.”

Hunter’s mouth tightened, and he walked across the room, grabbing a chair from their table and sitting down across from them. Their eyes widened as he leaned back in the seat. He reached down and pulled out the large Buck knife he kept strapped to his leg, starting to clean his oil-stained fingernails.

“See that f**kin’ gorgeous babe over there?” he asked Hipster One, jerking his chin toward me. “That’s my woman. I’d love some time alone with her right now, but she’s stuck waiting for you little posers to leave, even though the shop closed thirty minutes ago and you’re probably not even going to leave a tip. Seems wrong to me, somehow. What do you think?”

Hipster Two spoke hesitantly.

“I think we were just leaving.”

“Good to know,” Hunter replied politely. “Don’t forget the tip.”

Hipster Two nodded, standing and digging in his pocket as Hipster One grabbed his gratuitously ironic leather briefcase, swallowing. They started toward the door, but Hunter cleared his throat pointedly.

“Seems like a pretty small tip,” he said. “Those shoes you’re wearing cost close to two hundred bucks, so I think you can afford to do better. Or were they a present from Mommy and Daddy?”

I frowned as they dug in their pockets again, then decided I should put a stop to this. God help poor Cookie if they got mad enough to start trolling us—they certainly had enough spare time.

“You’re fine,” I said, opening the door for them. “I’m sure whatever you left is great, and I hope you’ll come back again when we’re open.”

“Um, right,” Hipster One said as they scuttled out the door, leaving me alone with Hunter. I slid the bolt closed and lowered the shade, turning to face him.

“Was that really necessary?”

He stood and started stalking toward me.

“Absolutely,” he muttered, eyes darkening. I knew that look.

“Hunter, this is my work,” I protested. He reached out and caught my hair in one hand, twisting it in his fingers as he jerked me into his kiss. I tried to hold back, but his tongue attacked my lips and then he was inside. It was all over and we both knew it.

God, I loved the taste of him.

He kept kissing me as he backed me toward a table against the inner wall. I’d shut all the big window shades already, so we had total privacy, but this still felt very wrong. My ass bumped into the table, waking me to the reality of the situation.

If I didn’t do something, Hunter was going to f**k me right here in the middle of Cookie’s shop.

I needed to stop him.

But then his hand found my breast, and he started kneading it roughly. Damn, but that felt good. Tingling arousal started swirling through my body. Hunter pulled away abruptly to frown at me.

“What?”

“Burke wants to meet you.”

“Burke, your national president?” I asked, eyes widening. “Why?”

“Hell if I know. He’s a cagey old bastard.”

His hands slid down my side, catching my skirt and tugging it upward.

“When are we meeting him?” I asked, trying to focus. It was almost impossible, because the skirt was bunching around my waist and he’d found the bare skin of my ass, exposed by my thong. Hunter’s hands tightened on me, and he tugged me forward into his hips. His c**k was hard and ready to go, which made it almost impossible to breathe, let alone pay attention to his words.

“He’s in town already, at the Panther, right down the street,” he murmured, massaging my ass. A finger slid toward my crease and worked its way under the thong. He’d been doing that more and more lately.

“The strip club?” I asked, trying to focus.

“Yeah,” he said. “We’re supposed to pick him up when we’re done here. Says he wants to show me something. You up for that?”

I reached down between us to find his erection, squeezing it tightly. His breath hissed, fingers tightening.

“I’m up for anything,” I whispered with a smile.

He gave a low groan, then spun me around and pushed me flat across the table. I heard the sound of his zipper going down and he caught my thong, wrenching it hard enough to snap the elastic.

Bummer. I went through more panties that way . . .

Hunter’s fingers slid into me abruptly and I cried out. Holy shit, that felt good, he always found the target. Always. Then he pulled back out, rubbing my own moisture along my crease. I felt his finger press against my rear opening, pushing slowly inside. It was a strange sensation, but he’d done it a few times now, and I knew he wouldn’t hurt me.

“Someday I want to f**k you here,” he said, and I shivered.

Someday I’d let him. But now I felt the head of his c**k tracing my pu**y as he lined himself up with my opening. His free hand caressed the small of my back, soothing me.

“You ready?” he asked, his voice ragged. I nodded and braced my legs. Sex with Hunter was fantastic, but rarely gentle. Sure enough, he slammed into me, filling me in one hard stroke. My back arched and I moaned, tender tissues stretched to their limits.

“Christ, you’re a good lay,” he muttered, giving a few hard thrusts. Then he started hammering into me, all but attacking my pu**y with his cock. The finger made my ass feel impossibly full, impaled and at his mercy.

Holy hell. I’d never been so turned on in my life, which was a good thing. I didn’t see how he—or anyone—could keep up this pace for long. Not that I needed much more time. Every stroke took me a little higher, and my legs started trembling from the mixture of physical strain and building desire.

“I’m close,” I warned him, reaching out and catching the sides of the table. “Really, really close, babe.”

He pulled out of my rear, then gripped my cheeks with wide fingers, digging deep enough that I’d probably have bruises later. I didn’t care. All that mattered was the sensation of his c**k splitting me wide. He invaded again and again, until my entire body convulsed, the orgasm hitting me hard and fast. I whimpered, collapsing even as he kept going. Then I felt his c**k start pulsing, hot come shooting deep into my body.

The sound of panting filled the shop. Probably shouldn’t tell Cookie about this one, I decided.

“It’s a lot better without the condom,” I managed to say after a few minutes.

“Thank f**k for birth control,” he muttered, leaning down to kiss the back of my neck. He pulled out, then stepped back. I pushed up shakily, catching my skirt with one hand and tugging it down. My shredded thong had caught around one leg, and I kicked it off.

“So when are we supposed to meet Burke?”

“About fifteen minutes,” he said. “Just enough time to clean up and walk down.”

“You want to bleach the table while I hit the bathroom?” I asked, feeling guilty. What would the health department make of that one? “Everything else is ready to go. Bleach is under the sink.”

“Sure,” he said, giving me a quick smile. “Gotta say, the idea of you out in public, wearing that little skirt and nothing else? It’s turning me on again.”

I snorted.

“Everything turns you on.”

“Nope, just everything about you. Trust me, I don’t feel this way at all when I see that fat chick at the DMV. Now get cleaned up. Or don’t—hell if I care. I like the idea of my jizz running down your legs for everyone to see.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Yup.”

I turned to leave, but he caught my hand, pulling me back for another quick kiss.

“Thanks,” he said, resting his forehead against mine. “I was wound pretty tight. Usually when Burke shows up without warning, it’s not a good sign. You helped a lot just now.”

“I’m a very helpful girl,” I said, waggling my eyebrows. I pulled away, turning toward the bathroom. Hunter smacked my ass and I jumped, laughing.

“Hurry up,” he said. “Burke’s waiting.”

“Will I like him?”

“No,” Hunter said, shaking his head slowly. “He’s usually a complete ass**le, so don’t be surprised if he says something rude. But he saved me and Kelsey as kids. That should count for something. I’d probably be dead if it wasn’t for him. Dead or in prison.”

“Then I’ll love him,” I said. “I don’t care if he’s an ass**le. I still owe him, big-time.”

“Kinda how I feel about your dad,” he said. “Go get clean, woman.”

I flipped him off and headed for the bathroom.

• • •

Hunter parked his new truck right in front of the strip club. Nothing fancy. In addition to everything else that sucked about the accident, he hadn’t been able to collect on his insurance. Bullet holes tend to draw cops, and the last thing either club wanted was law enforcement poking around. I’d offered to help pay for the new rig, but Hunter had blown me off, making it clear he could afford to buy his own ride. I wondered about that . . . Working part time as a mechanic wasn’t exactly lucrative, but if the Jacks were anything like the Reapers, his income stream was probably creative.

Hunter texted Burke, who stepped outside about five minutes later. I don’t know what I expected, but Burke wasn’t it. He was old—way older than my dad or our national president, Shade. More like Duck’s age. His hair was long and gray, and he kept it pulled back in a ponytail. He had a full beard, and it was long, too.

Skid followed him, and we eyed each other warily.

Me and Skid had an uncomfortable truce these days. Kelsey and I shared a place now, thanks to him. I still slept over at the house a lot, but nothing like before. I guess that was a winning solution for all of us. Well, all of us but Hunter. The idea of me and Kelsey living together seemed to scare him a little, and I guess I could understand that. It certainly made it easier to gang up on him.

“I’m Burke,” the Devil’s Jacks president said, stepping forward. “You must be Em?”

I smiled and nodded.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” I said.

“You’re not much, for a girl who causes so much trouble,” he said bluntly. “I pictured you with bigger tits.”

My smile didn’t falter for a minute.

“I’m still saving up for my boob job,” I told him politely. “Until then, I’m afraid Hunter’s stuck with me like this. On the bright side, I give excellent head. He had to pay my father six whole goats for me, you know.”

Hunter choked, but Burke burst out laughing. Skid’s eyes widened, and he gave me a sly nod of approval.

“Well, she’s not shy.”

“Not even a little,” Hunter said, wrapping his arm around my neck and pulling me close. “You said you wanted to show us something?”

“Yeah,” Burke said. “I’ll ride with Skid. You follow.”

Hunter tugged me toward his truck and we climbed in.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack back there,” he said. “And I think you gave him the wrong impression—it wasn’t goats, it was kegs.”

“My bad,” I murmured. “It’s so hard for me to hold all that information in my little female head. I get all confused.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said blandly. “I can tell you what to do. We have to keep that feeble little brain of yours from getting tired.”