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And wanting all of that pissed him the fuck off, too.
Because he would never, ever fuck a woman who wore a badge.
Never.
A woman who would take away his freedom in a second if she could. That was her job. Stripping people like him of their freedoms.
Fuck her.
“Don’t know who the fuck you think you are,” he began, “but let me tell you who the fuck you ain’t. You ain’t my momma, you ain’t my sister and you certainly ain’t my fuckin’ woman.”
“Would you listen to any of those three?”
“Fuck no.”
Her chin rose only enough that he noticed it. “Let me tell you who I am, then.”
He planted his hands on his hips, lifting his own chin. “Know who you are, Jet. Just don’t give a fuck.”
“You will if I take you in.”
An armed woman allowed to carry a Glock in her holster versus an armed man not allowed to have a Beretta stuffed down his pants. She had a huge set of fucking balls. Personally, he preferred his women without them.
“You ain’t takin’ me anywhere.” He wondered if her balls would be so big if she knew about his gun. Ever since he walked up to the Honda and she saw the knife on his hip, she had watched his hands carefully. They probably wouldn’t be having this conversation at all if she knew about the .40 at his back.
“That sounded like a challenge,” she said.
Unlike her, he wouldn’t hesitate or have second thoughts about killing someone. If she killed someone, even in the line of duty, she would likely take a while to recover. Taking someone’s life would affect her way more than it ever would him.
He did what he had to do to protect himself every time he was locked up. He did what he had to do to protect his club, his family and himself. If that meant someone had to die, then they had to die.
She might hesitate, think twice first. He wouldn’t.
“If that’s what you heard.”
“That’s what I heard.” She tilted her head. “I know you’re on parole. I also know what for. I’ve seen your extensive sheet, Rook—”
“Why? What fuckin’ reason would you have to check my record?”
“Why wouldn’t I? I’m a cop wondering why you keep coming back to this mountain mostly owned by redneck militia wannabes who have a mistaken notion they’re some sovereign nation and don’t have to follow any rules. Kind of like you...” She tipped her head toward his knife. “When I checked the conditions of your parole, I swore it said you couldn’t possess any weapons.”
“Don’t remember my PO sayin’ anythin’ about knives,” he lied.
“Then you weren’t listening.”
“Been accused of that before.”
“Right. Like when I told you I didn’t want to catch you back here again. Your issues with listening might be why you’re single.”
“Who said I’m single?” When she didn’t respond, he grinned and took a step closer to her to remind her he was much bigger than her. And much more dangerous.
He stared down into her face even though it was dark and he couldn’t see it perfectly. But by crowding her, he could still make his point. “Maybe you’ve been checkin’ into me more than you wanna admit, darlin’. More than just my criminal past. That so?”
Maybe if he played with her a little, she’d get flustered enough to just leave him be. He hadn’t broken any laws that she knew of besides the conditions of his parole with the knife. If he could get her to leave before she spotted the gun, everyone would walk away unscathed from this. Most of all him.
“Also seen you checkin’ me out at the garage. Seen you starin’.” He wet his lips with his tongue, then dragged his thumb over his bottom lip slowly and deliberately.
Her eyes narrowed on that motion. “I always keep an eye on sketchy subjects.”
“That ain’t it.”
She took a breath and a step back. “I’d be a fool not to keep an eye on you, Rook. Especially right now with that gun at your back.”
Fuck.
“I don’t know what the hell you guys are doing up on that mountain, but you need to stay off it. The fact that you’re heading up there with weapons...” She shook her head.
“Maybe I’m just visitin’ a friend,” he suggested.
“If that was so, why wouldn’t you just drive up there?”
“Because maybe it’s a secret thing between us. A forbidden thing.” He shot her a knowing grin.
“You’re in love with one of the Shirleys?” she practically squeaked.
“Who said anythin’ about love?”
Jet wrinkled her nose. “You’re having sex in the woods like two animals?”
“It’s much more excitin’ than it sounds.” Which might be true if it didn’t involve a Shirley.
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“Or I can show you, darlin’,” he whispered, closing the space she had made when she stepped backward.
