Page 48 of Spooked
My eyes crease. “I thought Drummer was your prez?”
“Wiz was wiped out in the same accident that I was. He’s still in this hospital, on the next floor, with a badly bruised spine and two broken legs. But he’s healing, and soon he’ll be back at the helm. Not that Drummer wouldn’t probably agree, but it’s Wizard who’ll have the final say.” He glances at me to see if I’m listening. I am. I’m hanging on his every word. “Dollar, our treasurer, wants to step down from his role, but hasn’t been allowed to as there was no one to take his place.” Quickly, he clarifies, “He’d still have his seat at the table, still report to the club. But you’d be the club’s accountant doing all the hard work behind the scenes.” He finishes, and his head tilts.
I’d be their accountant?Though I wouldn’t be reporting to the club itself, that would still be this Dollar’s job. Not so much different in any accountancy firm, where it’s the directors who call the shots and report to the board, while people like me get on with the daily slog.
He can see I’m considering it. “There’d be a decent salary attached.”
“Like what?” I ask, interested. I’m a money person of course.
Grinning, as if to see I’ve taken, or am at least circling the bait, he clarifies, “To be negotiated, but I’m sure it wouldn’t disappoint.”
Part of me wants to jump right in and take it. The sensible portion of my brain tells me to wait. And the side of me that Hound brings out, asks innocently, “And would you be part of the incentive?”
Rising, he doesn’t bother with his crutches and hops his way to the bed. Leaning over, his mesmerising eyes make contact with mine. “Darlin’, I’m the main benefit.”
His mouth is so close, I can’t help but reach my hand to his head, pulling him down to me, sighing as our mouths meet. As our kiss deepens, and he takes charge, arousal floodsthrough me, making my nipples peak through the thin hospital gown. When his hands, drawn by what his eyes see, tease those peaks through the material, quickly following up by applying his talented mouth, I know I’m about to throw all caution to the wind and accept everything the Satan’s Devils have to offer.
Hound makes me feel alive.
Only just able to frame words, I gasp, “And can you describe exactly what your benefits comprise of?”
He raises his head only to leer at me. “My house, my bed, my cock. The bitch seat on my bike. My patch on your back, and possibly even a ring on your finger if that’s what you want. Maybe a couple of rug rats if that’s in our future.”
“It’s too soon to promise anything.” My words are the right ones, the old cautious me. But the new me wants everything he offers, and more.
I’d given up on the idea of ever having a man of my own, thought I’d never be brave enough to take the plunge. I tell myself I need time to think about his and the club’s offer, to work out all the pros and the cons. But honestly, is this gift horse any wilder than the experiences Hound and I have already shared? Perhaps this is one time I shouldn’t look too closely in its mouth.
I’m capable of only giving him one answer, and a short one at that. “Yes.”
My word unlocks a beast in him. He leans over me, pressing me into the bed, his lips on mine, his hands everywhere, and I’m replicating his actions, urging him on. It’s heading for a repeat of our interactions in the house when we’re interrupted by a shocked gasp.
“Ms. Sullivan, sir, please remember where you are.” The nurse is clearly having conniptions. She has a pinched look to her face. “Sir, please remove yourself from Ms. Sullivan’s bed, else I’m going to have to call security to escort you out.”
With laughter in his eyes, Hound eases himself away. Hopefully, it’s only me who can see him adjusting himself in his jeans.Tomorrow, he mouths at me.
I can’t wait.
With no equipment still attached to me, the nurse has to complete her assessment the old-fashioned way—a blood pressure cuff, a thermometer, and a hand to my pulse. Luckily, she makes no comment on my increased heart rate, and sensibly, seeing what she’d just interrupted. I mean, with a male specimen like Hound, who wouldn’t be affected?
When she finally exits, pointedly leaving the door open, Hound and I look at each other. I giggle, he chuckles, then repeats his promise. “Tomorrow, in my bed.”
To remove temptation, I slide myself under the sheet, my foot catching something and sending it to the floor. Hound picks it up. It’s my phone. He hands it to me.
Unlocking it with my face, I check my emails once again. Drawing in a sharp breath, I tell him, “Under the circumstances, they’re holding my position open for me.”
I hear Hound’sfuckmurmured under his breath, and see his eyes fill with disappointment.
I don’t lead him on. “Which means I’ll have to resign my position, effective immediately.”
“Fuck, woman,” he snarls, brushing his hands through his hair. “Talk like that is just going to get us back into trouble with the nurse again.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
HOUND
These last two weeks have been the best of my life.
Maeve discharged herself from the hospital, came straight back to my house, and immediately breathed life into it. I hadn’t realised how much it had been missing a woman’s touch. At first, she’d only salvaged a few items from a small suitcase in her totalled car, which we’d managed to track down, but then we’d sent the prospects to LA to pack up everything from her apartment. We’d decided not to go ourselves, or rather, I managed to persuade her to obey her doctor’s instructions not to overdo things and rest. The medical staff thought there might be a lasting problem with her heart. Maeve and I dismissed that, believing her health problems had ended with the demise of her aunt and that house. As long as the spirits leave us alone, she’ll be fine.
