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Still, she wants out and we want in. We’ve been eyeing this land for years, so on the surface, things should be cut and dry... a done deal... if only things were that simple.
I watch as she fiddles nervously with her hands on her knees. Her body language gives her away. Every now and then she looks around, being careful not to linger anywhere too long, and she’s avoiding looking at me, which is smart.
She’s pretty. Fucking beautiful actually. Her hair is a soft honey blonde, and for some god-awful reason it’s tied up in a bun. I imagine my hand pulling it down to wrap around my fist.Jesus.
Even though her unsure blue-green eyes dart around, she has the grace to keep looking hopeful, like things in this room might get better before they get worse. Boy, do we have news for her, and it’s all bad.
I continue my silent, mindless observation. She’s tan because she’s from California, well dressed... a neat and tidy package, not like the girls around here. I can tell she’s got a tight, hot little body under those clothes and tits that would make you sit up and weep. She shouldn’t wear anything sheer like that. Ever.
That fucker Gunner is giving her a full-on fuck-me grin, but that’s typical of him. God’s gift to women, he’s got the kind of look that works on women of any age, color, or creed. He has a way with the chicks because of how he looks and his charm, but he’s too obvious with it. Then again, some chicks like that, I guess. I wonder what little Miss Sienna Morgan likes.
Unbeknownst to her, I know all about her. Unlike some of my brothers, I haven’t just come into this meeting to check out some new piece of ass and hopefully sign the deed to the clubhouse. No, I’ve done my research like any upstanding Sergeant of Arms of an MC would. I’ve come prepared.
My training in special ops in the military means I can do background work quickly and thoroughly, and even though there was quite a bit to sift through, I guess old habits die hard. I know more about pretty little Sienna Clare Morgan than I have a right to.
I know she’s twenty-nine and from southern California. She majored in Business Management, and until recently she worked as a senior associate at a bank. She’s not married, no brats, was raised by a single mom, and has no siblings. I don’t know much about her financial status, but obviously she’s inherited good ole Max Morgan’s investment portfolio, or should I saydebts.She has no criminal record, and judging by the looks of her, she’s probably never even gotten a parking ticket.
I stare at her as she taps one of her light pink nails on the table absent-mindedly, trying to pretend that none of this is getting to her.
“How long are you in town for?” Gunner has the audacity to ask.
Is he actually crazy?We’re in the middle of a business deal, and here he is chasing pussy right in front of everybody, which is just his style: he doesn’t care, as long as he gets in first.
I’m not sure if I’m buying this whole sweet, innocent act she’s got going on though, and I can’t stop thinking about bending her over the end of the table and giving it to her hard and fast.
For fuck’s sake.I need to get my head in the game. I also try to zone Gunner out, which is never easy.
The Stone Crow. Oh yeah, I know all about that too. Where she works, where she lives, where she goes. I had to get a bead on her before the meeting, and it’s not stalking behavior exactly… It’s for the club.
One thing’s for sure, though, Sienna Morgan isn’t the type of girl you hook up with and screw once. Hell, you’d have to get past her best friend, her advisors, and her tennis coach to even get a look in; and even then, she’d want a contract drawn up. I hope not by her useless lawyer, though, or there’d be no chase at all.
As far as the club is concerned, Hutch would much rather the bank foreclose so he can snap up the deal super, super cheap, and that’s the plan, she just doesn’t know it yet. So, this little charade is exactly that, a charade, going through the motions. It’s shitty, but that’s how business works. She’s in our town now, and these are our rules.
I cross my feet at the ankles and wonder idly if she has it in her. The fight. ‘Cause she’s about to be on the ride of her life, whether she knows it or not.
Of course, having a deadbeat like Max Morgan as your dad would make anyone tough, estranged or not, so I kind of hope she has some fight in her.
I glance at Hutch; he’s still reading the papers like he doesn’t already know what’s in there. We all do and nothing’s changed.
I risk another look at sweet Sienna’s face and catch her exchanging a glance with her attorney. It’s a “what the fuck is going on?”kind of look.
I glance at Gunner, who, I can tell is about to go in for the kill. I subtly kick his chair leg with my boot before the words escape him. He glances over at me. I shake my head once at his questioning frown.
Keep it in your pants, big boy.We don’t want to scare her off.
If everyone around here would just let me do my job and didn’t try to screw things up every five minutes, then my life would be a hell of a lot simpler. The last thing I need is him screwing with the club’s new landlord. Then again, maybe it would do her some good. Gunner can do some pretty wild shit.
“…There are some things to discuss with my brothers here,” Hutch begins as he removes his reading glasses. “So, we will review the terms set out here amongst ourselves and get back to you in due course.”
He’s going to draw this out for her.
I glance her way again. She looks just slightly stunned, and her forehead creases in confusion. I hope she kicks up a fight because seeing her mad would be a treat.
I wonder if she’s a spitfire in the bedroom, too. Suddenly, a range of positions that I’d like to see her in come to mind, and I wish Gunner would kick me back under the table so I’d get my mind out of the gutter. I can’t help it: she’s hot, but she’s way too sweet to be here.
“I was hoping that we could discuss it today, we’re happy to wait outside,” she counters, clearly desperate to get this deal done.
Hutch looks down the table at her long and hard. He’s one tough motherfucker. He definitely isn’t used to “negotiating” with a woman. Not that we’re total Neanderthals, but in his eyes, old school ways still rule. Women have their place, and it isn’t in meeting rooms discussing business, especially his clubhouse. Even though his ol’ lady works in real estate and is a ball buster herself, she doesn’t come in here. Hell no. Club business is between men, which Gunner already pointed out, and I saw how well that went down with her. She thinks we’re total assholes.
