Together We Lie

Chapter Fifteen

AgravellyTexanvoice came from the other side of the pool table and cracked through to my consciousness. Jake turned and angled me behind him, his free hand clenching and unclenching at his sides while the interloper stalked closer. I stared at the man who so rudely interrupted my moment with Jake with my teeth bared.

“Didn’t I tell you, your dick would be severed from your body before you even managed to reach your knife?” I replied shortly, sidestepping Jake’s hold and standing chest to chest with a wall of muscle.

The man wore a tattered leather biker’s cut, and I didn’t have to look to know it had a huge bulldog snarling with blood dripping from its canines on the back. The Bulldogs MC.

The new arrival and I stood, sneering at each other before I was engulfed in a huge bear hug that swept me off my feet.

A burst of laughter erupted from my lips while Mac spun me around, then deposited me back on my feet, holding my elbow as I steadied myself on my heels. He looked down, smiling wide, his warm eyes, the same shade of brown that I was so familiar with, glancing at my breasts and back to my face. His mouth twitched to a smirk under his short, boxed beard as he took in the low neckline.

“Lookin’ good as always, darlin’,” he said smoothly and brushed his thumb over my cheek, then glanced over my shoulder toward Jake. He gave him a curt nod and stretched his arm over my shoulder. “Mac. I’m a friend of sugar’s here,” he said as Jake returned the handshake, his wrist bumping against my body with each down pump.

“Jake,” I said before Mac could say more, reaching up to touch Jake’s arm, which was slung possessively over my shoulder, and I glanced between the two men as they stared at each other, testosterone filling the small section of the bar. It was like replaying the scene from last night all over again. “Mac is one of Matt’s older brothers,” I said, quickly recalling the pseudonym Alex gave at the gala yesterday. Mac raised an eyebrow in silent question, which I discarded with a subtle shake of my head. He knew better than to question what I said, and due to his high status in the Bulldogs, there was no need to hide Mac’s true identity. No one would be foolish enough to go against him and his boys.

And as Mac wasn’t affiliated with either of his brothers or the family business, the likelihood of strait-laced Jacob Weston finding the link between this Jones and the other two was slim.

An old Kenny Chesney song started playing on the jukebox and Mac’s face softened, his attention moving to the small dance floor, which had slowly started to fill up. He dragged his tattooed hand through his shoulder-length dirty blond hair, looking incredibly like Alex at that moment. Excluding the hair and the fact Mac could totally rock a man-bun, he was always the better-looking Jones brother in my undisclosed opinion, but if Alex knew that, that would be another reason to add to the list of why these two brothers no longer spoke.

How they ended up on the different ends of the criminal spectrum was insane. One righting moral wrongs, another just doing wrongs on principle.

Their father was not exactly thrilled when his middle son came home, stating he had joined a motorcycle gang rather than taking his rightful place alongside his siblings in his family’s empire. Mac had said on several occasions he did not want to be part of a mafia-wannabe-family for as long as I could remember, and much to the annoyance of Henry Jones.

“You mind if I steal your girl for a quick throw around the dance floor?” Mac asked, holding out his hand for me to take. Jake gave a small nod, not that he would be able to stop me, but pulled me into his chest and placed a kiss on the side of my head before letting me go. I stuttered forward, keeping my gaze stuck on Jake as Mac took off towards the crowd of people hollering and clapping in time with the music.

He pulled us to the centre of the dark brown linoleum tiles which created the dance floor and spun me around, joining in with the group who had started line dancing. I loved how everyone happened to know the correct moves without anyone having to run through them at the start. Men and women, friends and strangers, danced together without a care in the world.

This was my happy place. No jobs where the target was a paedophile, rapist, or sex trafficker. No deadlines to steal blueprints or passwords to offshore accounts. No pretend or make-believe. Just Stevie. Plus, it was kind of surreal watching burly biker dudes from Mac’s gang moving in time to the music with petite ladies hanging from their arms, their biker boots stomping to the beat with just as much finesse as if they were wearing cowboy boots.

“It’s nice to see you datin’, darlin’,” Mac drawled and winked as the music slowed. He placed my left hand on his shoulder, taking my right in his, and wrapped his free hand around my waist, pulling me close so our bodies nearly touched.

“This – this isn’t a date,” I stuttered. “This is business, Mac.”

“Yeah right, sugar pie,” he smirked, looking over my head with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “I was watching you for a while before comin’ over. Haven’t seen you look happy and carefree in years.” He spun me once under his arm, catching my waist again. He bent down low, his beard tickling my ear as he whispered, “Besides, that man hasn’t stopped watchin’ us since I took ya from him. Real alpha-wanna-be asshole type. I like him.”

“You barely even spoke to him.” I scoffed, pushing him slightly to create some space so I could risk a glance in Jake’s direction. Mac was right; Jake’s jaw was tight and his eyes were trained on us. Well, me more than him. Taking advantage of my distraction, Mac shifted his hand from my waist to my ass. I gasped, pulling back to glare at him as he stepped us around and gestured over his shoulder to where my date stood with white knuckles wrapped tightly around his glass of Jack. I smacked his chest and rolled my eyes as Mac laughed and moved his hand away from my butt. “Anyway, you can’t like him. He’s a target who will be gone in a month or so.”

“Whatever you say. Just be careful, buttercup.”

I smirked at the nickname, thinking back to when Mac, Alex, and I were younger, sitting in a park or at the bottom of their family garden, hidden away with a bottle of stolen scotch from Will’s stash, taking shots whenever Mac came out with a ridiculous pet name for me.

For a boy who had never even stepped foot in Texas, he sure did have the southern charm perfected. Something he picked up from his momma. Both Will and Alex, however, took after their father, creating another difference dividing the siblings. Perhaps that’s why Alex and Will became closer the older they got. Mac was a bit of an outsider. But even without the Texan accent, all three were huge ladies’ men like Mac. Well, until Will got married.

We danced for a bit longer, catching up and talking about nothing.

“May I cut in?” Jake asked, placing his hand on my lower back and looking at Mac.

Mac grinned and leaned down to kiss my cheek before shaking Jake’s hand once again, and laughed at something Jake said as he walked away. Another slow song started, and I wrapped my hands behind Jake’s neck, absentmindedly running my fingers along the bottom of his neck.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect to be dancing with Mac for so long.”

Jake pulled me closer into his body, swaying along with the music. He trailed his hands down my back to the top of my jeans and slipped them under the hem of my waistcoat. His warm long fingers flexed against my bare skin, then the tips pushed lower until they tucked under the waistband of my trousers. My heart raced as his thumb caressed one of the Venus dimples on my lower back.

“You seemed close. An ex-boyfriend?” he queried, his voice thinly veiled with jealousy as the grip of the hand currently not sending ripples of heat to my core with every thumb stroke tightened on my waist.

“Mac? No!” I laughed and looked at Jake’s lips, wondering what he’d do if I just reached up and ran my tongue along his bottom one.

Bad Stevie. Down, girl!

“We’ve known each other since I was like thirteen or fourteen. We’re close. His family helped mine.” And I may have lost my virginity to him, but he didn’t need to know that. Nearly ten years later, and God knows Alex still won’t let it go. He mumbled something low in response as he drew me closer in his arms.

The rest of the evening felt surreal and almost like a real date. We danced some more, drank some more – well, I did, since Jake was driving – and we had food. I couldn’t remember the last time I went on a date where I was myself rather than a character.

I knew today was meant to be another job, and no matter how much I tried to convince myself it was, deep down, I knew differently.

And what was worse was I liked it.

It was dark by the time we pulled up outside my home. Jake got out of his beautiful Lamborghini, which had me scheming ways to end up owning this car the whole way home, and walked around to meet me. My feet had barely hit the gravel when Jake closed the car door and gripped my waist, pushing me flat against the car.

My heart leapt as he leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. The kiss was so light and gentle, not matching the raw animal magnetism that had ladies falling at his feet. Naturally, I thought he would be rough and demanding. Fervour that could make you come from one kiss alone, but instead, his gentleness caught me off guard, and I was a little disappointed.

I brought my hand up to his chest, preparing to make the responsible decision and push him away, when he increased the pressure, sending bolts of electricity straight down between my legs, and I moaned. His teeth nipped at my bottom lip, and I let out a small gasp, giving his tongue the space it needed to slip through the gap and swirl across mine, allowing me to taste the bitterness from the whisky that lingered from the Jack Daniels he’d had a while ago. He tasted rich and smoky, and I wanted to drown in it.

Oh yes, this, this was exactly how I imagined he’d kiss. Dominant and controlling.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, needing him much, much closer. His kiss was all-consuming and made me want to beg for more. One kiss did not sate anything I felt for him, but unlocked a flurry of greedy and irrational thirst I was aching to quench as I fought the urge to wrap my legs around his waist, claiming him as my own.

Horny Stevie was clearly a slut when she hadn’t had sex in three years and that bitch needed to be reined in. But I knew I couldn’t fight her much longer. My resolve would break, and she would win, but I wasn’t even sure I wanted to fight her.

Jake moved one hand down the front of my stomach and under my waistcoat. His fingertips began drawing small circles along the tops of my jeans, igniting a fire on my skin with every graze. My hips pushed into his body where I could feel his hard cock that strained against the zipper of his jeans and pressed into my stomach.

I groaned, and he swallowed the sound as he unbuttoned and unzipped my trousers, reaching down and over the top of my underwear.

Jake Weston was forward. He knew what he wanted, and he just went for it. I was completely here for that.

“Jake,” I whispered against his lips, as he started stroking me through the wet fabric. I should have been embarrassed about how much my body was proving I undoubtedly wanted this man, but the sex fog invading my brain didn’t want him to stop. I only had enough mental capacity left to be acutely aware we were standing outside my house and Alex could spot us if he were to only look through the window.

“Sshh,” he murmured, as if reading my mind, moving to nip and suck lightly at the soft skin of my neck while he parted my legs with his knee. “He can’t see us. No one can see us.”

Jake curled a finger under an edge of my thong, moving it to the side, allowing him access to find the tight bundle of nerves between my legs. I gasped as he slid a finger across my slick centre and pressed down on my clit with his thumb. A shot of pleasure coursed through me, and my head tipped back with a soft thud against the blacked-out window.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he moaned, slipping one finger inside me, followed by another, but not as deep as I needed him to be. “And tight.”

I pushed my hips into his hand, urging his fingers to move further into my body as I wordlessly begged him to fuck me with his hand.

Sliding one of my hands down his chest, I felt the solid ridges of muscle covered by his dark shirt. I palmed the outline of his solid cock through his jeans, pushing against it as he moaned into my mouth, and I moved to his belt buckle.

I wanted to give him something, anything backto let him know I wanted this as much as he obviously did, but Jake released the hand that had tangled in my hair without me even noticing and moved to circle my wrist, effectively stopping me from touching him. He returned my hand to its original position around his neck.

“You have no idea how much I wanted you from the moment I saw you at the gala. To kiss you, to touch and taste you. How much I want to fuck you and make you mine. Watching you dance with your friend’s brother, his hands all over you, drove me insane,” he admitted against my skin, withdrawing his fingers to leave my pussy feeling empty. He didn’t leave me wanting for long and immediately slammed them back in, so they were fully seated inside, curling in me so deeply that I whimpered and gasped as the heel of his palm rubbed against my clit. “Right now is about me taking what I’ve wanted since I first laid eyes on you.”

My knees buckled, the intense swirling of my pending orgasm building while he continued to pump his fingers in and out of me, moving faster and harder. Throaty moans I had tried so desperately to keep in escaped me in one long sigh that I buried my head in the crook of his neck.

I was crossing a line, one I should never have allowed myself to do, but mini-Stevie and her whiteboard had started to score through another rule on my list - no intimate touching - with a massive grin on her face and hooded eyes.

He placed open mouth kisses along the burning flesh of my throat that was bared to him as I continued to pant into the collar of this shirt.

Fuck,that kiss, those fingers.

This was too good, he was too good.

I gripped his shoulders tighter and dug my nails into his shirt, trying to keep upright as my legs got weaker and weaker with every brush of his fingers.

“Stevie,” Jake groaned, tearing his lips away from my skin. Unable to formulate words and unable to move, I kept my head buried in his shoulder. “Stevie, look at me.”

I pushed my head back to meet his eyes. They had darkened to a deep blue filled with arousal and dark promises. I bit my lower lip hard, and my eyes fluttered shut as he was bringing me closer and closer to my much-wanted release.

“Stefany, open your eyes. I want to watch you as I make you come,” he growled. My eyes snapped open, and my breath hitched. He called me Stefany. No one called me that, not even Alex. “Good girl,” he purred and captured my mouth with his in yet another blistering kiss.

I gripped the back of his neck hard as the coiling tension inside was getting tighter as his fingers sped up and his thumb found my clit again, moving hard and fast. My body tensed and he stopped kissing me to watch with a smirk on his lips as I cried out and came on his hand in one of the most intense orgasms I’d had in... well, ever.

Jake continued to move his fingers, prolonging and dragging out the very last drop of my orgasm. Slowly, I stopped pulsing around his fingers, and he dragged his hand from my trousers. In just a matter of seconds, that pang of emptiness from my needy body was back. He brought his fingers to his lips and ran them across his bottom lip and then sucked them greedily into his mouth as I stood breathless and dazed, unable to look away.

I had read in my romance books countless times where the love interest would suck off the girl’s release and it never really did anything for me. But witnessing it, not imagining it, I nearly came again. It was so fucking hot.

He refastened my jeans and placed both hands on my waist as my chest heaved, catching my breath.

“You’re amazing, Stefany.” He gazed at me as the waves of my release finally faded, leaving me weak but extremely satisfied. “Beautiful. Magnificent. Just amazing.” Each word was broken up by a gentle kiss down my neck.

I worked on a swallow and let out a breathy laugh. “I guess I could say the same about your hands.”

He grinned and stepped back, allowing me room to fix my clothing. I leaned in and pressed my lips up to his.

“I’ll call you,” I said, instantly cringing at the worst phrase known to mankind, and took off towards my house, leaving him in the dark without as much as a backward glance.

Once safely inside, I let out a shaky breath and looked down at my trembling hands from the rush of adrenaline from what Jake and I had just done. This was fucked up. I never crossed that line with targets, that beautifully delicious line that I so desperately wanted to cross further with Jake until it was non-existent.

“Did you know that the acacias tree, native to Africa,” Alex’s voice sounded out from the sofa in the living room to mingle with the roar of an engine as Jake drove away, “have thorns on their branches to stop giraffes overeating them?”

I frowned, coming to sit next to him, noticing he was watching some show on the long-necked beasts on the Nature Channel.

“And, if that doesn’t stop them from gorging, the tree can release tannins which taste vile and are hard for the giraffes to digest, thus forcing them to seek sustenance elsewhere.” He looked at me as he pushed his glasses up his nose, seemingly waiting for my reply.

“Erm, I did not,” I replied, scrunching my forehead in confusion. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Well, I thought I’d need to tell you something non-sex related to help bring you down from that post-orgasm high you’re riding right now.”

My eyes widened, and I felt the hot flush of embarrassment creep up my neck. “What? H-how did you know?”

“I didn’t,” Alex replied, a sly smirk twisting at his lips. “But I do now.”