Page 10 of Hard Ride
She doesn’t answer, leaning back on the couch, her hands still clasped, self-possessed and self-contained, not giving me a single fucking thing. It’s infuriating, and she probably knows that.
“When I imagined meeting you again, I didn’t think that this would be the kind of discussion we’d have,” she says at last.
I want to push and keep pushing until I get the truth from her, but she’s not there yet. I need to be patient, so I only smile. “What other discussion would we have here? In a sex club?”
“True.”
“It’s just a night, Katherine,” I say. “It doesn’t have to mean anything you don’t want it to.”
Except it will, of course.
It will mean everything, and I will make sure of it.
5
Lucas
Istand at the back of the crowd by a column, keeping half an eye on the newbies while the other half is constantly drawn to the alcove where Tate and Katherine are sitting.
Fuck, I can still feel the shock of seeing her echoing through me.
I’d felt someone staring at me from the bar area, so I’d looked, and there was Katherine, sitting on a barstool, staring back, just as shocked to see me as I was to see her.
It hit me then, like a fucking crowbar to the back of the head, that toxic mix of desire and fury and guilt that I always felt around her. It filled my veins, made my blood pump hard, and my breath catch.
My fucking breath doesn’t catch for anyone.
I thought it was behind me, I thought I was done with it, but apparently my body didn’t get the fucking memo, and I’m so fucking furious I want to punch a wall.
She tried to run when she saw me, but instead of heading out the door like she should have, she turned and went deeper into the club. And like the goddamn stupid bastard I am, I followed. I had to tell Tate she was here — at least that was the plan. Until she ran into him.
I knew he wasn’t going to let her go the instant he saw her. He never lets go of anything he considers his, and I’m the same. We’re possessive motherfuckers.
Jesus, it should be over, this damn pull I feel inside whenever she’s around. Like she put her hand around my cock, and I can’t help but follow her wherever she wants to go.
She’s beautiful, still. Bright red hair, pale skin, and her eyes the same shade of blue as the Montana sky, where I used to live with the one foster family I ever liked. And she was as good a friend to me as she was to Tate. A sweet girl, that’s what he used to call her, and she was.
I used to call her Katie, though.
I glower at the newbies clustered around the stage. Some woman is inching closer, getting far too caught up in what’s happening on stage, and putting her hands on the edge. If she gets any nearer, I’ll have to intervene.
My jaw tightens, tension creeping through me, and I stretch my neck from one side to the other to release it. Just knowing that Katie is in the same room is affecting me way more than it should, and I need to get it the fuck together.
Tate’s always known my feelings about her, though we never talk about it. Just as he knows I’d never take her from him — not that he’d let me anyway. He saw her first, and it is what it is. It’s my shit to handle, and he trusts me to handle it.
I was young when he and I met her — too young — and I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings for her. She and Tate had such a volatile relationship, and I found myself in the role of mediator more often than I was comfortable with. She turned to me a lot when things got bad with Tate, and I was idiot enough to offer her a shoulder to cry on. Idiot because we had a shitload of physical chemistry and I couldn’t resist her. She was warm, bright, and funny, and she was the first person other than Tate who actually seemed to care about me.
I’m older now, though, and like Tate, I know myself better. My feelings for her are what they are, and I’ll keep my anger and guilt to myself. Channel them in my preferred way, such as finding myself a nice little sub for the night. Tate fucked Cherry into insensibility just before, but once she’s recovered, I’m sure she’ll be up for more. She’s a greedy little thing, and she knows what I like. A sweet, obedient girl who only wants to please.
I shift on my feet, surveying the crowd by the stage yet again to make sure they’re behaving themselves. Katie’s friend is near the front. She’s totally hooked by the action, not missing Katie at all, which is good. A guy off to one side is leaning forward and looking up at Nell as if he’s seen God. Nell can handle herself,naturally, but it’s my job as a monitor to make sure the rules of the club are obeyed. Especially the ‘no touching’ rule.
He puts out a hand, and instantly I’m moving, making my way through the crowd, gently easing people out of my way until I get to the front of the stage.
“No touching,” I growl at the guy with way more temper than I should since it’s newbies night and mistakes are going to be made. But I lost all my patience the moment Katie walked in, along with the remains of my good mood. “Do that again and you’re out.”
The guy glances at me, but I stare him down until he finally mutters an apology and steps back from the stage. I nod, take a look once more at the crowd to make sure everyone is behaving themselves, then go back to my post.
Once there, I glance again at the alcove where Tate and Katie are, making sure no one’s disturbing them. Regardless of my personal feelings, I know this is important shit for Tate right now. He always meant to find her, and it seems like fate that she turned up here tonight. I don’t want anything to jeopardize that. Tate’s the brother I never had, and I’m that for him, and we have each other’s backs. It’s always been that way.
