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“Oh, ho, ho.” Zach laughed, and even Copper grinned like a red-bearded loon.
The jangle of bells rang out, indicating someone had entered the diner. At that moment, Jig would have sworn he was fucking Spiderman because his sixth sense went wild.
“And speak of the she-devil,” Mav said, his evil grin so big it nearly split his cheeks.
Jig couldn’t help it; it was as though he’d been invaded by a body controlling alien. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched the woman in question step into the diner. He was struck with an instant hard-on. Let’s face it, he’d never entirely lost it, even after two colossal self-induced orgasms, but the sight of her had his balls aching with renewed need for release. But not from his fucking hand. No, he wanted that sassy, snarky mouth all over his dick.
For the first time, he was getting a glimpse of her with her hair down—literally—and it stirred his blood in a way he hadn’t felt in ages. Black as night, thick, glossy, and long, long, long, it tumbled midway down her back. She looked hot with it in the braid, fierce, warrior-like, but now she revealed a feminine softness he’d yet to witness.
And if he thought he’d wanted her before, he’d been sadly mistaken. Now, he fucking wanted her.
As though she sensed attention on her, she turned and met his gaze. Her eyes flared then narrowed in his favorite pissed-off look. She hadn’t known he’d be there. Probably wouldn’t have come if she had. Damn, the woman was prickly. He winked then felt a tapping on his shoulder.
“Here, brother,” Mav said.
He twisted forward, back to his table and the laughing eyes of his brothers. “What?”
Mav held a napkin out. “Gotta wipe up that drool. Slobber does not impress the ladies.”
“Funny.” He grabbed the napkin, balled it up, and shot it into Mav’s face, then took another quick peek over his shoulder. Izzy had turned away and was walking to meet her girls at the counter—walking stiffly as though in pain.
Well, Jesus, of course, she was in pain. What the fuck was the woman thinking, coming out just hours after she’d been attacked? Jig started to rise from the table but caught Shell’s eye. Much as he’d done to her, she gave him a quick head shake followed by a wink, and he sat back down. Those women were thick as thieves and a damn nuisance.
The rest of the guys laughed, and conversation moved from business to general bullshit.
And all the while, Jig sat there with a pipe in his pants, fully aware of the woman who caused it just twenty feet away.
COME HAVE BREAKFAST, they said. The boys are busy with business, they said. It’ll be fun, they said.
Dirty, rotten, lying bitches.
Izzy tore her gaze away from the man who made her come like a supernova less than eight hours ago. As she gingerly made her way to the counter where Shell and Toni promised to have breakfast with her, she bristled with frustration.
Granted, they had no idea that just a few hours ago Jig had buried his face between her legs. Maybe she should cut them some slack. Hopefully, they’d attribute her foul mood to the pain and stress of being attacked the previous night and not the frustration of wanting a man with her body but not wanting that same man with her brain.
Almost to the counter, she ran a hand through her hair. Shit! The only reason she’d left it down was that she’d assumed the guys would be at the clubhouse talking business and not in Toni’s diner. Well, that, and it hurt like a mofo to raise her arms and braid it. She’d given up after about ten seconds of trying.
The braid was kind of her shield. With the shaved bottom layer of hair, it made her look fierce, intimidating. And she needed that right now to ward off the very sexy man who muddled her mind. Especially since she was running on four hours sleep, Percocet, and not one cup of coffee.
“Hey, sweetie,” Shell said as Izzy made it to the counter. Her new friend’s face was full of concern. “How are you?”
“Coffee. Must have coffee.”
“Yeah.” Shell smiled and grabbed the pot. “I can see that. You want me to just stick a straw in this thing?” Her eyes twinkled, and it actually made Izzy smile.
She appreciated the fact that while Shell seemed concerned for her wellbeing, she wasn’t in freak-out mode, trying to do everything for Izzy. It was important she be able to take care of herself, bruises and all. “Not a bad idea, sister.”
“Hey, Shell—” Toni burst through the metallic door leading to the kitchen. “Oh, Izzy! Shit, girl, how you feeling? Zach stole my phone and fucked me into a coma last night so I wouldn’t bother you, but I’ve been super worried.”
