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“We movin’?” Lucas asked.
“Follow me and Poppy out to the parking lot and take her keys. You can take her ride back to the house to pick up your bike,” Jack told him.
They’d dropped Hayes and Hank off at their bikes earlier. The other two men had followed behind Lucas and Jack to the bar.
Lucas went on out while Jack waited by the exit, leaning casually against the wall and watching as the crowd enjoyed their Saturday night. He saw familiar faces, but they belonged. There were a lot of people he didn’t know, but no one who stood out. No mercenaries or threats.
Ian would have LEOs notified sometime after daylight tomorrow of the bodies at the farmhouse. It would take another hour or two for the news and local gossips to start spreading the word. By noon, if they weren’t already aware of it, both Crossfield and Dawson would hear about it.
“I’m ready,” Poppy told him as she neared, strolling in that lazy way she had of walking.
All he could think about was fucking her when he watched her walk. His cock, unruly bastard, was fully erect, his balls tight with the hunger he couldn’t seem to sate. He felt like a man who hadn’t fucked in years and was dying to slam his cock into a sweet pussy.
Straightening from the wall, he pushed the door open ahead of her and stepped out first.
There was Lucas standing between her SUV and Jack’s pickup, looking like the dangerous shadow he could become.
“You ridin’ with me or not?” he asked Poppy as they neared the vehicles.
She handed him the key fob with the air of a woman choosing her battle.
Not that he knew why, but he had the key and that was all that mattered.
Tossing it to Lucas, Jack hit the electronic lock on his pickup and escorted Poppy to the passenger side as Lucas strode quickly back to the bar.
Opening the door, he gripped her waist and lifted her to the seat, and when she would have turned and drawn her legs into the vehicle, he stopped her.
They were at the edge of the parking lot, with her vehicle shielding them from the side, ensuring a measure of privacy.
“What?” She stared up at him in the dim light, the interior of the truck dark, the inner light disconnected.
He reached behind her and flipped the center console up, then gripped her head and pulled it back for a kiss.
He meant to be gentle; he was certain he knew how. She wasn’t his first woman, or the first decent woman he’d fucked. But the second his lips touched hers, he was devouring her kiss like a fucking animal.
His tongue thrust past her lips, then pulled back, his head angling to part her lips for the deeper, savage lust that burned through his senses.
“Jack,” she whispered as he pulled back, his hands pushing her skirt up her thighs, desperate to get to the sweet flesh beneath.
He remembered the taste of her, the sweetest summer taste, like heated ambrosia, potent enough to make a man drunk on her.
“I’m going to fuck you right here, Poppy,” he growled. “I’m going to suck those pretty nipples, push you back in that seat, and spread your thighs. Then I’m going to watch that pretty pussy take every goddamned inch of my cock.”
He watched her eyes widen, her breathing hitch, and hard, tight little nipples press beneath the thin material of her blouse.
“Now, are you going to unbutton that shirt and push your bra out of the way? Or do I just rip them off you.” And he was fine ripping them off.
“It’s not far to the house…” she began, but he heard the heat in her breathy little voice.
“Unbutton the blouse, and make it quick,” he demanded. “My patience is thinner than that material, and my control even more so.”
Graceful fingers moved quickly to her blouse, fumbling as she slid it free, but within seconds she was unclipping the front of her bra.
“Show me your tits, baby. Let me taste those sweet little nipples,” he demanded.
She spread the material slowly, revealing the smooth, swollen perfection of her breasts.
Jack worked his belt loose, his cock straining beneath his pants.
