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I need to make that happen again.
Soon.
Like right now. Because having Lilly bent over in front of me while she stretches across the front seat to grab her tiny plastic bag seriously tests my restraint. It’s a battle with my inner horndog not to fit my hands over her perfectly curved hips, yank her pants down and slam into her.
I’m hard just picturing it.
She backs out of the car, bumping right into my groin, and pure instinct makes me put my hands on her hips. “Sorry,” she says, straightening up.
My hands stay where they are. I close the car door and this time press her front to the car, fitting myself against her back. Lifting her thick, heavy hair up, I push it over one shoulder. My lips find her neck and my hips grind against her ass—just enough to tease her.
“Z, what are you doing?” She can barely get the words out.
“Preview of what’s going down later.”
“Oh, really?” she says in her teasing way. “I thought weddings were great for meeting chicks.”
Slowly, I inch back and turn her to face me. “You’re the only chick I want. And we’ve already met. Several times.”
She snorts, and I fit my fingers under her chin, lifting her head so she meets my eyes. “I’m not feeding you bullshit, Lilly.”
Doesn’t she get it by now?
“What if I wasn’t in the wedding party?”
“Then you would’ve been my plus one.”
She drops a little bit of her prickly wall, and leans into me, brushing a soft kiss on my cheek. Before she pulls away, I lift my hands to either side of her head, holding her still so I can kiss her deeper, really taking my time to remind her of all the ways our bodies fit perfectly together.
A soft moan flows out of her mouth and into mine and her hands go to my waistband, yanking me closer.
“Something to think about,” I say when we part.
“I’ll be thinking about it,” she whispers.
Instead of pushing her into the woods, tearing off her clothes, and fucking her up against a tree, I take Lilly’s hand and lead her up the driveway.
There’s a wedding to get ready for.
Inside the clubhouse, I reluctantly let go of Lilly’s hand. After yanking her to me for one last kiss. “See you in a bit.”
Her cheeks turn a bit pink, which is cute on Lilly. Few things embarrass her.
Like a lovesick pup, I watch her until she stops at Trinity’s door.
Sparky and Stash are hanging out in the living room rolling joints. “Party favors,” Sparky says, then falls over into a fit of giggles.
“Good to see you’re ready for the wedding,” I bite out. They ignore my sarcasm and keep rolling.
“Idiots,” I mutter.
“I heard that,” Sparky yells as I run up the stairs. Ignoring the stoner twins, I stride down the hallway and knock on Rock’s door. Well, after tonight it won’t be his room anymore. He and Hope are finally moving into their house. If I were sentimental, I might have some words about that.
Okay, I’m a little sentimental. It’s the end of an era.
Am I jealous?
Maybe.
Rock’s standing in front of his dresser fixing he knot in his tie. I flick my gaze at Wrath, positive it’s killing him not to poke fun at our best friend for the suit and tie. His mouth turns up in a grin. Twenty bucks says he’s already ribbed Rock about the suit.
“Ready?” I ask Rock.
“Fuck yes.” His eyes meet mine, and I sense the briefest hesitation in them. “She’s still here, right?”
“Oh, Christ,” Wrath mutters. “Cinderella isn’t going anywhere.”
“Nah, I made sure I locked the front gate after me,” I add helpfully.
“Thanks, asshole,” Rock growls.
Satisfied or fed up with the tie, Rock drops his hands and turns away from the mirror. “What’d Loco want?”
“Oh.” Yeah, meeting up with Lilly had wiped my brain clean of the whole reason I went out in the first place. I yank an envelope out of my pocket and hand it to Rock. “Wedding present. I think he was insulted he didn’t get an invite.”
“For fuck’s sake,” he curses under his breath, grabbing the envelope and setting it on the dresser without opening it. “With the crews we have coming in, that’s all we would have needed.”
Imagining that scenario makes me laugh and Rock glares at me. “What? Come on, that’d be some funny shit.”
“More like Loco would be trying to make deals with everyone behind our backs,” Wrath says.
Rock doesn’t even turn around. “Exactly.”
“He’s already got something set up with Sway.”
“Yeah, can you imagine him trying to work a deal with Stump?” Wrath’s mouth curls into a smirk. “That old bastard would probably shoot Loco.” He chuckles as if he’s reconsidering inviting Loco up.
“I don’t want anything going wrong today.” Rock’s so damn tense. When he’s not looking, I make a what the fuck face at Wrath.
“Hope imposed a no sex before the wedding thing on him,” Wrath explains.
Rock glares at him. “Shut up.”
Well, that explains it. I take a more serious look at my best friend. I’ve known Rock since we were teenagers. Was there for his first shitshow of a marriage.
“You did good, prez. She’s a keeper,” I say to reassure him. Just in case.
He responds with a brief smile. “Don’t I know it.”
The three of us have been friends for a long damn time. Before the club. And we love to joke around, razz each other, and generally act like obnoxious fucks. But Rock turns to both of us with a serious expression. “Thank you for everything. I know I’m throwing a lot on both of you today—”
Wrath isn’t one for all the feel-good shit. “Anything you need. You know that, brother.”
Rock’s phone buzzes. Thank fuck. For a second I thought we were all going to kick back and pluck our eyebrows together.
“Shit,” Rock grumbles, looking at his phone. “It’s Damon. Can you go meet them down the road and show them the way here?”
Eager to get out of here, I’m saying yes before he even finishes the sentence. Wrath stands to join me, but I stop him. “I got it, bro.”
He flips me off. Happy to have something useful to do, I hustle out the door.
* * *
“I’M BACK,” I call out as I enter Trinity’s room waving the bottle of topcoat in the air.
“Thank God,” Trinity says, rushing over to take the bottle out of my hand.
No one asks why I took so damn long. Good thing, because I’m too busy reliving my moments with Z. He seemed different somehow today. Do guys get fluttery romantic feelings at weddings the way some women do?
Guys like Z? Doubt it.
I certainly don’t.
I’m thrilled for Hope, but I’m not standing here mentally picking out flowers and designing a wedding dress.
While Trinity paints Hope’s nails, I duck into the bathroom to slip into my bridesmaid dress. Hope’s been a fun, un-fussy bride. She let us pick out whatever we wanted, didn’t expect elaborate parties, or any other bridezilla nonsense. The wedding really is about the two of them and their love for each other. Even someone as jaded as I am finds it sweet.
Once I’ve secured my boobs and zipped my dress, I step out in time to watch Trinity fix Hope’s hair.
We indulge in a lot of pre-wedding banter until it’s time for Z to come collect us.
Other than trading in his jeans for a pair of gray cargo pants, he looks the same as always.
“You didn’t dress up for the wedding?” I tease as I follow the girls outside.
“Sure I did.” He grins, pointing to his pants and flashing dimples.
Z’s drives Hope, Trinity and me to the wedding site. Heidi’s with Murphy. Teller gets Mara. When Hope first explained the wedding was happening at the clubhouse, I thought she was nuts. But as we maneuver through the woods in the UTV, I understand w
hy. It’s beautiful.
I can’t imagine the trouble Trinity must have gone to setting this up. Guilt simmers over me for not being a better bridesmaid.
We park and Z helps Hope out. She and Rock meet and, well, they’re in their own little world. Wrath meets Trinity and asks where Heidi and Murphy are. Somehow we lost them along the way.
Z walks up and offers me his hand. “Hey, pretty girl.” His low, smooth voice does all sort of inappropriate things to my insides.
My voice fails me, and I realize I’m staring at him like an idiot. Finally, I reach out and take his hand, and a jolt of awareness heats my body.
He sort of dips his head, almost like a shy gesture. Z’s anything but shy, so I’m intrigued. “You’re…that color’s beautiful on you. You look amazing.”
His words come out so serious that again, I’m at a loss for words.
“Were you guys drinking this morning?” he asks as we join the others.
“No. Why?”
“You seem off.” He leans in close to whisper in my ear, “And because I need you fully sober for all the things I plan to do to you when this is over.”
Our eyes meet and he winks.
He takes his place across the aisle from me, leaning over to say something in Wrath’s ear. The big blond chuckles softly and nods.
* * *
“TWENTY DOLLARS SAYS they’re fucking before this thing’s over,” I say to Wrath in a low voice when I join him on Rock’s side of the aisle.
He shakes with laughter and nods, but doesn’t respond. He’s too fixated on watching Trinity. Probably thinking about what kind of wedding Trinity will arrange for them.
My gaze drifts to Lilly. Fuck, she ripped the air right out of my lungs when I saw her this morning. She’s prickly, though. Probably have to trick her into marrying me.
The ceremony’s over quick. Boxes of butterflies are passed around, and everyone releases them into the air.
I’ve really had my fill of all this girly shit. But based on what I’ve seen some of my cousins go through with their wives, I suppose it could have been a lot worse. Rock’s a lucky bastard.
Would Lilly be some crazed bride trying to micro-manage everything down to my underwear? Or would she be happy with something simple like this?
I doubt I’ll ever know.
Shit. In the last few months, I’ve watched the two people in the world closest to me voluntarily settle down. It leaves me coming up with a lot of stupid ideas.
Unfortunately, the only girl on my mind these days is Lilly. Even though she’ll dodge me for weeks at a time, I still can’t get enough of her. The amount of fucks I should give that I have to chase after her are hard to come up with.
* * *
“YOU THINK ABOUT GETTIN’ MARRIED?” Z asks as he watches Rock feed Hope a bite of cake.
The wedding was beautiful. Food has been amazing. Poor Trinity’s been running around all night.
And Z’s asking me if I think about marriage? “God, no,” I finally answer.
“Never?”
A catch in his voice makes me turn my head. “You do?”
“Yeah,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Why?”
He stares at me as if a flock of butterflies just flew out of my mouth instead of a one-word question. “Same reason anyone does.” He nods at Rock and Hope, who are so immersed in each other it almost feels like an invasion of privacy to watch them.
“I don’t think everyone who gets married has what they have,” I say as I turn back toward Z.
“No. Probably not.”
While I admire my friend for sticking by her man while he went through some trouble this summer, I know for a fact I couldn’t do it. Visit Z in jail? No way. It would break me. Not to mention how horrified my family would be. It’s not like I can’t guess that Z’s motorcycle club is more than a club. That they’re into some shady stuff. Maybe Hope managed to convince herself of her husband’s innocence, but since meeting Z, I’ve heard enough stories about the Lost Kings MC to know that they’re anything but innocent. While Z’s hot, great in bed, and super sweet, he’s not marriage material.
I don’t think explaining any of that at his best friend’s wedding is the polite thing to do, so I force a smile instead.
Besides, I wasn’t lying. The last thing I want to do is get married. Let any man think he owns me. And a guy like Z would definitely be the I-own-you-caveman-type of husband.
Fuck that.
“Marriage is for suckers,” the guy across from us says, slurring each word. He has the nerve to jab a ham-sized finger in the air at me. “She’s hot now, but give her ten years. She’ll be fat and do nothing but bitch at ya.”
Z leans over the table, grabbing the guy by his shirt. “Watch your fuckin’ mouth, asshole.” He growls a few more warnings so low, I can’t hear them. The guy ends up shuffling away after flipping Z off.
“Sorry,” he mutters as he sits back down.
“One of your brothers?” It’s hard to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.
“Sort of. He’s from another charter and he’s a dick. No one here would ever think something like that, let alone say it.”
It’s true. None of the guys I’ve met before have ever been rude. Slightly terrifying, yes. Rude, no.
Trinity breezes by and drops into the chair next to me. “Are you having fun?” she asks breathlessly.
“Are you? You’ve been running non-stop all day.”
She waves off my concern. “I’m done for the night.”
“Sure you are,” I tease.
Trinity’s boyfriend…no there’s nothing boy about him. Trinity’s man lumbers over, settling a hand on her shoulder. They stare at each other with complete adoration for a few seconds, before he lifts his chin at Z.
The two guys do this unspoken conversation thing, that’s actually fascinating to watch. Next thing I know, Z’s sliding his chair back.
“I need to take care of something. You okay?”
“Sure, as long as that guy doesn’t come back.”
Z’s gaze searches the tent. “If anyone bothers you”—he points out two guys with Lost Kings MC cuts on—“let Dex or Ravage know.” He shifts and I follow his line of sight. “You know Murphy and Teller. They’ll look out for you, too.”
“Uh, okay.”
“I’ll take care of her, Z. Go ahead,” Trinity says. She pokes Wrath in the side. “Go do what you need to so you can hurry back.” He flashes a smile so warm he almost doesn’t look so scary. After they’re gone, she raises an eyebrow at me. “Someone bother you?”
“Not really.” I don’t want to seem like I’m complaining. I’ve dealt with plenty of rude, drunk men in my life. I can handle it. “So you really went with a monarch theme,” I tease, nodding at the table at the head of the room where the bride and groom are.
Tittering laughter bubbles out of her. “Yeah. The whole king and queen thing. That’s what we do here.”
A young woman slides into the seat across from us. “Hey,” she greets.
Trinity flashes a tight smile at the girl. “How’s it going, Sasha?”
“This is really something.”
“Is it your first LOKI wedding?”
“Yes.” The girl swings her vacant gaze my way. “Whose old lady are you?”
“Uh,” I glance at Trinity unsure how to answer the question. From spending time with Z and listening to Hope, I know what an old lady is. Well, I know enough to know that’s not what I am to Z.
“She’s with our VP,” Trinity answers for me.
“Oh.”
“Who are you with?” I ask to be friendly.
She lifts a lazy finger, pointing across the room at a cluster of guys with cuts claiming a different territory than Z’s. “Crazyhorse. I ain’t his old lady, though. Well—” she giggles. “I am at club events. His wife’s one-hundred percent citizen.”
I’m not sure how to respond to that. I glance at Trinity whose staring daggers at the girl. Bef
ore she responds, someone calls her away. “I’ll be right back.”
Leaning forward, I catch Sasha’s attention. “Forgive me, but what did you mean about citizen?” I ask, because hell, I’m curious.
“Oh. You know. She’s like his wife outside the club. Like, legal wife. Raises his kids, takes care of the house. But when he’s with me, it’s all just fun, you know?”
“And she knows about you?”
She gives me a sly grin. “I’m sure she does.”
“And you’re okay just being his piece of ass?”
She snorts, not insulted—not that I care if she is. “Yeah. I get to do the fun stuff with him. All bikers are like that. They all date you know, like, girls my age,” she says, as if she wants to really make sure I understand that I’m an old hag or something.
“That’s fascinating.” She doesn’t even blink at the caustic tone of my voice.
“So you’re new to the life, then? Like her?” She jerks her thumb in Hope’s direction. “She’s so fucking stuck-up.”
This chick realizes I was in the wedding, right? “She’s actually one of my best friends. And she’s as far from stuck-up as a person can get.”
“Oh.” Her lips quiver into a smile. “Sorry. I haven’t, uh really talked to her much.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t run your mouth about stuff you know nothing about?”
“Whatever.” She stands and storms off.
I guess I got a pretty good dose of reality tonight. If I ever thought about Z and I being something more permanent—which I don’t—I’d have to put up with him having club girls on the side while I sit home pretending I didn’t know what he was up to.
Double fuck that.
No. What we have is perfect. What we have is all we’ll ever be.
I don’t recognize the guys at the table next to us. But they’re wearing Lost Kings MC cuts like Z’s. Their bottom rockers claim downstate New York as their territory. One loud, drunk one catches my attention. He aims his glare at Murphy, who’s up front talking to Rock. “That fuck is so far up her ass ain’t even funny. You believe none of them were fuckin’ her while he was inside?”
