Page 30 of Treachery

How could she believe that? She was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen—all those curves, that soft, fragrant skin, those lush, mouth-watering tits, that dick-hardening, bouncy ass…and those long, thick legs…fuck, he was growing hard just thinking about her. It wasn’t even her body that was the most beautiful thing about her, it was her eyes, her smile, the way she lit up a room, the way she lit up when she saw him…before he’d hurt her. Everything about Nadia Thompson was perfect. How could she not see that? He didn’t give a fuck about society’s physical ideals, about the Instagram models or the actresses or the Victoria’s Secret Angels that most men found attractive. He didn’t need a size zero to get his dick hard, never had. Agreed, the typical civilian often pictured large, tattooed bikers with skinny blondes with big tits and hair, but he liked his women thick, curvy, plush—able to take a pounding. And it wouldn’t hurt if they had a little class, too. Freak in the sheets, lady on the streets. That was Nadia; she was everything he’d ever wanted in an ol’ lady. A wife. His forever.

But she didn’t see that.

Probably because you slid into her life with false intentions…and you never told her how you felt about her.

Yes, but his focus on duty to the club died a quick death the moment their gazes met on the side of the highway. He’d taken one look into those glorious hazels and he was fucking gone. Done. She owned him. He’d just been so caught up in what theclub needed of him as the Unchained enforcer, and what she needed him as her man, that he foolishly thought his two lives wouldn’t cross.

Snorting at his stupidity, he threw himself down on the couch, and dropped his head back to close his eyes once more. How was he supposed to find her? Of course, he’d check Emerald Greens to see if she headed to her office there, but he doubted she’d make it that easy on him; she’d been seriously pissed at him.

There was nothing he could do but wait until someone spotted her; Patriot didn’t want him near the casino, so he couldn’t kick Ratchet’s ass, which meant sitting around with a thumb up his ass.

He didn’t know how long he sat there in the aching, oppressive silence, but the ringing of his phone jolted him from his swirling thoughts.

It was Stallion, a former Unchained nomad who’d recently put in for permanent status so he could settle down in Wilkes-Barre and take up a position in the club.

Locust answered, “Stallion, you good, brother?” Stallion, though throwing himself into club duties, had been withdrawn lately.

“I’m good, but I’m sure you’re gonna be better than me when I tell you that your woman is here,” Stallion drawled.

Shooting up from the couch, Locust growled, “She’s there? At Cool Hands?” Stallion had taken on the job of security at Cool Hands, a club co-owned hangout in downtown Scranton.

“Yeah, brother. I don’t know how long she’s been here; I just got back from lunch.”

Swallowing down the urge to get there by any means necessary, Locust asked, “She alone?”

“Yeah, but Terrance said she asked to the use phone,” Stallion replied.

Locust hummed, knowing instinctively that Nadia called Vicki, her best friend and ride or die. More than likely, Nadia was hoping Vicki would give her money or a place to crash. But that would happen over his goddamn dead body.

Just then, Tony Dos pulled up outside, and Locust let out a curse; for a millisecond, he’d forgotten he was fucking stranded…because his clever, devious woman had made sure of it. He smirked at that, proud of her.

I’m still gonna spank that lush ass, though.

Now that Tony Dos was there, he didn’t have to wait around anymore.

Hurrying to the front door, he locked it behind him with the key he’d copied the day he’d installed the cameras. It was how he’d gotten into her house that morning.

It took eight minutes to get his bike on the back of the tow truck, and another twenty-three minutes to get to the garage. Once he got there, though, he found he didn’t have the patience to wait for tire replacement. Snagging the keys to the garage-owned 4x4 truck, he spun out of the parking lot, headed to Cool Hands.

He was going to get to his woman, he was going to make her listen to him, and then he was going to fuck her until she knew just how much he worshipped her.

THIRTEEN

Openingthe door to Cool Hands, Nadia took a moment to let her eyes adjust, before she walked over to the bar. The place was snazzy—as her mom would say—with his industrial feel, concrete floors, gleaming dark wood and chrome, and deep red padded stools, chairs, and booths spread out around the perimeter. It was the kind of place where she’d enjoy a girls’ night with Vicki—and she determined, right in that moment, to do that. Soon. As soon as she figured out how to explain to her best friend that she’d just escaped captivity in her own house through her bedroom window.

Yeah, she realized she was, once again, and romance heroine cliché, the dum-dum who left the hero’s protection when things got dangerous. But she hadn’t been thinking about the danger, she’d been thinking that the asshole keeping her captive was being…well…an asshole.

Now, she was glad she was in a public place.

Waving down the bartender, a smiling twenty-something man with gelled hair and an eyebrow piercing. She asked to use the phone, saying she dropped hers out the car window. He slid the handheld across the bar and then moved down to chat with a slinky brunette with big teeth and tits. Rolling her eyes at herinternal bitchiness, Nadia dialed Vicki. Wasting no time, she told Vicki where she was, and that she needed to see her STAT.

Vicki, knowing something was up, wasted no time in telling Nadia she’d be there in forty minutes, since she needed to drop Sylvia off at her ex’s house first. After hanging up, Nadia ordered a Diet Coke, knowing Vicki would pay the bill, and headed to the booth in the corner.

She sat down, and immediately, thoughts about everything that happened over the last five and a half months flooded her mind, but none as fresh and volatile as the memories of what happened that morning.

Sipping her soda, she let the memories, the heat, the hurt move through her mind. Locust had come to her when she needed him, he’d held her, he’d listened to her talk about her past, he’d made her feel safe, he’d kissed her, made her feel good, and through all of that, she felt…whole. Like he was right where he was supposed to be. With her. But then he went and did what he was good at; use her weakness for him against her. No, it wasn’t as bad as it had been when they first met, and he’d pulled the wool over her eyes about their relationship, but he’d still intended to kiss her and conquer her, to lull her, to bewitch her. And it had nearly worked.

Right, like you wouldn’t have just gone with him if you weren’t butt hurt about his methods.

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