Her Secret Pleasure (Death Lords MC 2)

“No, but it did seem like you expected one. After all, you thought I hadn’t liked the dinner because I wasn’t up for inviting you in.”

He stalks closer to me and I shift again. My car is parked in the alley behind the library so I’m staying out front here until he leaves. “I must’ve misread the signs. Your clothes were saying one thing but I guess your lips were saying another. Hard for a guy to tell these days.”

That sets my back up. “Not sure what a skirt and knit top say other than they’re two well-fitting pieces of clothes that match.”

He chuckles. “I can’t tell if you’re innocent or playing me—” Whatever he was going to say next is cut off by the arrival of a third party. His head jerks up and his eyes narrow. “Harrison, what’re you doing in town this time of night? Everything’s closing down. You don’t belong here. Stay out on the edges at your bar or your sordid clubhouse and leave the good people of Fortune alone.”

“You still mad you didn’t get your patch all those years ago, Eric?” Judge needles him.

“I’m mad that murderers are walking our streets and that Fortune lives under the specter of terror.”

This isn’t a good scene and I want to get out as soon as possible. There’s bad blood between the two that pre-date me by a long time.

Surprising me, Judge doesn’t needle Eric again. Instead he turns to me. “You parked in back or need a ride home?”

“In the back,” I answer with some relief.

“Come on then.” He waves his hand down the sidewalk.

“Where are you going?” Eric asks sharply.

“To my car.” His animosity has me edging closer to Judge. My maneuvers escape neither man. Judge’s hand comes to rest at the base of my neck. Eric’s eyes narrow.

“So you’re a club bitch,” he says. Snorting, he continues, “Should’ve told me you wanted it rough the other night. Acting the gentleman didn’t get me anywhere but I’d have been happy to slap you around a few times. All you had to do was let me know.”

I lunge toward him but Judge holds me back. “Main Street,” he mutters under his breath.

Curling my fingers into my palms, I struggle for control. “I wasn’t interested. That’s why I turned you down. It has nothing to do with anything else.”

He waves his hand at me like I’m garbage. “As if I would want to stick my dick in you. Any pussy of the club is destroyed and diseased.”

The hand around my neck is tight. Judge leans forward and I’m pleased to see Schmidt move backward even if it’s only a bit. “The only one getting destroyed is you. One of these days you’ll fuck up and then we’ll take turns punching you out until it’ll be hard for the coroner to decipher if you’re a man or an animal.”

“You threatening an officer of the law?” Schmidt places his hand on the top of his holster.

“No threat.” Judge rocks back on his heels, but his hand at the back of my neck never moves. “Just a promise.” He turns to me. “You ready?”

My answer is to start walking. I don’t say goodbye to Chief Schmidt, which is probably a mistake, and I don’t say another word to Judge. I’m not sure if I’m mad at his intrusion or appreciative.

By the sound of his heavy boots on the sidewalk, he’s following me.

“What are you doing?” I hiss beneath my breath.

“I promised your dad I’d keep an eye on you.”

“Oh, my God. That’s rich. He’s trying to pull the protective dad act about ten years too late.” I start walking faster. The sooner I’m in my car, the sooner I’m home and away from this mess of testosterone.

“From the way you were trying to two-step away from him, you’ve got him pegged, but everyone can use a helping hand now and then.”

I round the corner and march down the alley to my car. “I’m here at my car. Thank you very much. You can leave now.” I give him a tight smile.

“Can’t actually.” Judge moves around to the passenger side. “Someone dropped me off. I need a ride.”

“What?”

“You wouldn’t leave me here at the mercy of the law, would you?” He tips his head toward where Chief Schmidt is still standing. He’s at the end of the alley staring at us.

“Fine,” I capitulate. “Get in.”

Judge climbs in, buckles his seat belt and doesn’t say another word about my dad or Schmidt or even this morning. He’s good at reading people because if he had opened his mouth, I would’ve laid into him. Quietly he gives me directions to the edge of town where an old granary sits. It’s shaped like a milk carton in the middle with two wings jutting out from the side. There’s one squat silver silo to the left of the building and several bikes parked at the front.

“Here you are,” I say.

He doesn’t get out. “Schmidt’s wrapped up in a lot of dirty things. I'm not comfortable sending you home by yourself. Why don’t you drive on home and I’ll have one of my boys pick me up. I won’t even ask to come in.”

“I have a big dog,” I reply stiffly. I’m not ready to see Judge on my property.

“Right, a Doberman.” At my glare, he raises his hands. “We follow Schmidt everywhere. You were caught in the cross fire. And your dog? He looks fierce but we both know looks are deceiving.”

I turn away and stare at the granary doors. He’s right. My dobie is a sweet thing who loves people. He looks scary but he’s really a marshmallow. Capitulating with a sigh, I restart the engine.

“What else do you know about me from keeping tabs on Schmidt?”

“You drive your Mini Cooper like you’re part of the team pulling the ‘Italian Job’, you didn’t kiss Schmidt good-night and you taste like fucking heaven.”

I roll my eyes. “You had to add that, didn’t you?”

With a broad smile, he covers his eyes with a pair of aviators and rests his head back against the seat. He doesn’t seem too concerned with my driving. In fact, with one arm stretched nearly across the back of my seat and the other across the door, he looks as if he belongs in my car.

I remind myself I don’t need a man. I have toys and if I’m really desperate for companionship, I can seek out some anonymous fella in Minneapolis. Fortune’s only about an hour and a half drive away.

The drive out to the mobile home I’m renting takes only about fifteen minutes. Morgen runs down the lane as I pull in.

“How come you live so far out of town? There are apartments in the town square.” Judge takes a long look around the two acres I’m renting along with the small trailer.

I finish giving Morgen his hugs and stand up. Judge’s question gives me the perfect opportunity to get him out of my life but I hesitate to unroll my sordid laundry for this guy. Although—who am I kidding. He’s an MC. They probably have more dirty secrets than most.

“I used to work at the Eau Claire County Library after I had gotten my Masters in Library Science at the U of Minnesota. Library jobs were hard to come by and I figured five years was long enough for folks to forget the foolish behavior of a teenager. But you can’t go home; not really because, shoot, people’s memories were long. I was still that girl who gave her favors around a bit too freely.”

Judge leans again

st the front of the car, his ankles and arms crossed. I wish he wasn’t wearing his aviators because I can’t read his expression at all. I plunge forward.

“I endured three years there with the whispers of notoriety following me everywhere. The other librarians totally supported me and I loved my coworkers. It was the patrons that drove me nutty. Some of the moms looked askance at my clothes or my red hair, as if I could do anything about that, and thought I’d haul their husbands into the reference books and start doing demonstrations from The Joy of Sex. Part of me wanted to take the mayor and have sex on the circulation desk so I could at least say that I deserved to be the subject of scorn. When Chuck had come around with the offer of a directorship of a small town library a couple hundred miles from Eau Claire, it seemed like the best gift he’d given me. I figure this is going to be my home and I want to start off on the right foot. I already made a mistake and I’m not looking to compound my early error.” I fiddle with the bow tie around my neck, and the memory of Judge’s words about my clothes makes me extra warm. I should’ve taken him for a spin in my bed before kicking him to the curb.

Judge rubs a finger across his full lower lip and I can’t help but remember the decadent touch of it against my lips and then moving erotically against my ear. Later, after he’s gone, I’m going to think about his growly voice and those plush lips and big hands and go off like a rocket. I shift as my lower bits start throbbing.

“That’s a sad story, baby, and I’m sorry you were run off but I’m glad you landed here.” He straightens. “I hear you saying a bunch of things so let me address them individually.” He holds up one finger and takes a step toward me. “I don’t give a shit who you fucked before, how many, and in what positions. That past don’t exist for me.” The second finger goes up. “Schmidt’s part of that past.” The third finger rises. “The townspeople of Fortune are gossipy but they don’t care much for Schmidt either and they like me.” With the fourth finger, we are toe to toe. “Finally, I think your real objection is that I ride a bike like your daddy.”