All Dogs Bite (Club Chrome 2)

“Yeah, aside from the obvious. Let’s just say I agree…will I live to regret this newfound friendship?”

“Probably,” he said with complete honesty, then hit her with a charming smile of his own. “But it’ll be a wild ride, for sure. You game for a little excitement in your life?” Hello, magic words. Her pupils dilated and her tongue darted out and she nodded slowly, almost reluctantly, only he saw the arousal in her flushed cheeks and shortened breath and he knew he had her. Oh yeah, this chick would be easy to manipulate and it might even be a little fun, too. “All right, Dee, buckle up, baby, cuz this joy ride is dangerous.”

-2-

“Fffffuck! What are you telling me that you couldn’t find him after you shot him? You had one fucking job, you idiot — Kill Bronx — that’s it! How fucking hard is it to put a bullet in someone’s motherfucking head?”

“He must’ve sensed something was off because he bolted but I got him. He’s wounded. Hell, he could be dead in a ditch somewhere. I got him good.”

“If that were true, you’d be telling me the news I wanted to hear — Bronx is dead — but you’re not telling me that are you?”

Lank hair hung in the man’s eyes as he swallowed visibly. “No,” he finally muttered before promising, “We’ll find him. I swear it. He won’t live long.”

“Oh, you swear it? What the fuck does that mean to me? You failed once. What makes you think you can succeed a second time. We no longer have the element of surprise, shit-for-brains. He’ll be on guard, watching and waiting for the hammer to drop, all the while actively on the look-out for who was behind the drop,” she screeched, shoving the man to the ground. It wouldn’t take long for Bronx to figure out who’d double-crossed him and when he did, she was as good as dead. The deal had gone all wrong. This was her punishment for sending someone else to do the dirty work.

“He’s gonna need a hospital. All we gotta do is keep an eye out for him,” the man said, scrambling to his feet but keeping distance between them. “And someone will talk if he tries hiding out at his usual haunts. Chances are he’ll end up at a chick’s house, someone he’s banging or banged in the past.”

“Jesus, we’d have to canvas the whole fucking city, the whore. He fucks anything with a hole.”

“Yeah, but word will spread if anyone is harboring an injured man. Just be patient. He’ll turn up.”

She glared. The man was lethal and they’d just failed in their attempt at taking him out. Yeah, she was royally fucked if she didn’t find Bronx before Bronx found her.

***

Was it completely insane that she was allowing a stranger to hole up in her house? Yep. But she’d be a liar if she didn’t feel a certain sense of wild adventure thrumming through her veins at the obvious recklessness. Her life had been so staid as of late. Internet dating was dull — or, the only guys interested in her profile were the dull ones — and there was something irresistible about Bronx. Even his name was sexy in a bad-ass way. BRONX. She rolled the name around on her tongue, liking the way it tasted. She rinsed out their coffee mugs and put them away, secretly delighted that she had two mugs to clear away — okay, don’t judge — and then realized she needed to check his bandage.

“Can I check your wound?” she asked, gesturing to his bandages. “You really need to keep it clean or it could get infected and once that happens, I’d have to take you to the hospital.”

“By all means, please do,” he said, lifting his shirt, giving her unrestricted access to his glorious, yet injured, body. Ohhh, he had perfect abs. The kind usually reserved for underwear ads on billboards, you know? He grinned at her sudden blush when she stared at little too hard. “Like what you see?”

Snap out of it. Don’t be so ridiculous, she chastised herself. But it was hard because he was so handsome. No, handsome wasn’t the word. He was…delicious. “Right,” she said, training her expression to appear less affected by his body. “Um, so, you need to clean up. All this dried blood isn’t helping and besides, it’s gross. Can you manage to stand on your own?”

“I think so,” he said, slowly rising from the sofa, wincing with obvious pain. He rocked on his heels and nearly tipped over but Delainey was there in an instant to catch him. His chagrined smile was adorable, damn it, as he admitted sheepishly, “Maybe not,” shooting an uncertain glance at her. “Maybe I can just wipe down or something?”

The answer was obvious — she was an adult, she could handle it. “No, don’t be silly. We’re both adults. I can help you wash if you don’t mind me seeing you naked.” Holy cow! How had she managed to get those words out of her mouth without choking on them? Her cheeks started to betray her so she tacked on, “I took ROTC nursing training in high school so, yeah, naked bodies don’t phase me.” LIAR. His naked body would definitely phase her. The sight of it might even put her into a swoon like a Victorian lady with her stays too tight but c’mon, the man was in dire need! She couldn’t very well refuse to help him just because he made her tummy tingle in a naughty way, right? She straightened and asked briskly, “So, what’s it going to be?”

“Well, since you’re offering…a shower would be great. I feel like shit and probably smell the same. You sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course not,” she said quickly, perhaps too quickly. Get out of there and get your head together before he realizes that seeing him naked might just be the highlight of your damn life! She managed a curt nod before saying, “I’ll get the water going” and then split the room.

Naked. A naked man. In her shower. When was the last time she’d seen a naked man in her shower? NEVER. Her dating adventures thus far in her life had been woefully inadequate and definitely lacking in the adventure part. She should call Zoe. And tell her what, exactly? Delainey wrung her hands and then shook them out. She’d lectured Zoe on grabbing onto opportunity with both hands and yet, here she was, shaking and trembling like a ninny at the first presentation. This was her chance to inject a little wildness into her life. So take it! She had her whole life to date dull, responsible men who drove hybrid cars and recycled their plastics (not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course, but something told her that Bronx didn’t give two shits about his carbon footprint — such a bad boy! — And damn it, for some reason, that was incredibly hot). This might be her chance to take a stroll on the crazy side, to do something so insanely inappropriate that she wouldn’t be able to talk about it in polite company without stammering and blushing and wanting to hide under the sofa for fear of being judged. Her bathroom began to fill with steam and she realized she’d been hiding for too long. You got this. Take the bull by the horns, er, or well, just grab something, girl and stop being such a pansy! Right! “Are you ready for me?” she called out and his answer nearly undid her.

“Not the right question, babe. The right question is…are you ready for me?”

Delainey squeezed her eyes shut and crossed her fingers — for what, she wasn’t sure — but it seemed like the right thing to do and then, head lifted and shoulders squared, she returned to the living room to find Bronx, naked and waiting — with a big, fat hard-on.

Oh. Damn.

Wild side officially commencing.

***

It was a bold move for sure, but Bronx was curious as to what his chubby Nightengale would do when faced with him, naked and ready. Her reaction was pure hot with a side of holy-fuck-wasn’t-expecting-to-feel-that-rush-of-primal-awareness and Bronx hardened even more. He cast her a slyly apologetic look as he gestured to his erection, saying, “Sorry…can’t help it. Morning wood and all that.”

She gulped and jerked a short nod. “Of course. You can’t help it. It’s simple biology, not because you find me attractive.”

“Oh, I didn’t say that,” he corrected her easily. “I’m just saying, all things considered, I’m not trying to be a perv when you’re being so nice about helping me when you don’t have to, you know?”

“Oh, right. Okay, let’s get you in the shower before the hot wa

ter runs out,” she said, trying to avoid staring at his junk, which he found oddly cute. He’d taken a quick look around the living room and found no pictures or any other evidence to suggest that she had a boyfriend but she did seem to enjoy cats quite a bit, even though as far as he could tell, she didn’t actually own a cat. She slipped her arm under his shoulder and helped him to her bedroom, where the steam beckoned from her adjoining bathroom. Her room was decidedly feminine, just like her. Very girly with pink and black decor, like that French stuff you see in upscale boutiques. And more pictures of cats. That was a bit weird. She glanced at him nervously, her face inches from his and he wondered if he ought to kiss her. No, not yet. She’d bolt. She wanted it, but she wasn’t sure how to deal with her feelings. One thing Bronx was good at — reading women — and he wasn’t beneath using all his knowledge to his advantage. He wobbled as she helped him into the spray and groaned in real pain. Her eyes widened with concern. “Are you okay? Do you think you can stand on your own?”

“I hate to say this but…I think I need your help. Do you mind getting in with me?” he asked, and this wasn’t a ploy. His side was killing him. Fuck. He was weak as a damn mouse. So much for putting his killer moves on the woman. He could barely stand. A moment of indecision flashed through her eyes but she bravely stepped inside the shower with him, her T-shirt plastering quickly to her curves. Her tits, nice, round and more than a handful, were right at his face as she helped him to sit on the small ledge, blocking the spray for him before adjusting the nozzle away from them. He wanted to squeeze those abundant globes so badly, his hands began to shake. He could easily imagine sliding his cock between the valley of that glorious flesh and coming all over her chest, maybe even spraying her face with his load. Her hips flared, inviting a man to grip as he pounded into all that sweet, jiggling flesh, and he had to remind himself that he was playing a game, not playing for keeps. “You’re a good girl,” he said, maybe for his own sake but Delainey seemed to take it as an insult.

“I’m not that good,” she countered, lifting her chin. “I’m in the shower with a naked man that I just met.”

“True but you’re helping me when you don’t have to. Someone else might’ve just called the cops and let fate deal with me.”

“Maybe I’m a shallow person and just liked the way you look and I’m totally objectifying you right now,” she said, almost daring him to call her out. “I mean, you have a great body. It’s no terrible tragedy to be in the shower with you right now. And your p-penis is nice, too.”

“My penis is nice? Thank you. I think.”

She blushed and grabbed the soap. “I don’t know how to complement someone’s genitalia without it sounding weird but you seem to be nicely put together, that’s all I’m saying. I mean, I don’t have a whole lot of experience in that department but it seems to me that you’re…um, well-endowed as they say?”

“I’ve never had any complaints,” he said with a mild grin, watching her. “So when you say you haven’t had much experience…you aren’t a virgin, are you?” God, he hoped not. He tried to avoid virgins. He didn’t like the responsibility of being someone’s first. Too much drama afterward.

“N-no.” She shook her head —thank God — but her gaze remained riveted on his cock. She didn’t know it but she was driving him crazy with her obvious interest. He’d never been examined so thoroughly, so breathlessly.

This was the oddest conversation he’d ever had but he was enjoying it, just the same and he was curious as to where it was going. “Want to touch it?” he dared.

Her mouth gaped open but before she could answer, the soap sprang from her hand and hit him square in the cheek before thudding to the shower floor and skidding off. “Oh! I’m so sorry,” she cried out, her hands fluttering to smooth away the hurt and if he hadn’t been afraid of the pain any laughter might’ve caused in his side, he would’ve laughed his ass off. This chick was something else. He kinda liked her quirkiness.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, catching her hands and drawing them gently away from his face and placing them on his cock. “How’s that?” he asked in a low voice, enjoying the way her breath shortened and her fingers lightly squeezed.

“I’m touching your penis,” she stated unnecessarily before meeting his gaze, amazed. “I’m actually touching it. You don’t mind? I don’t want to take advantage of you in your weakened state.”

Her concern for his welfare was irony at its best. He nodded gruffly, leaning back to enjoy her gentle touch. “I’m good. Go ahead, touch all you want. I don’t mind. Just don’t squeeze my balls, that will hurt.”

She bobbed a nod and then explored his cock with all the curiosity of an unabashed teen slut with a voracious appetite for sex.

“Take your top off,” he instructed her and she pulled her hand away, suddenly shy. “C’mon, it’s only fair, right? Here I am in my birthday suit and you’re standing there in a T-shirt.”

She shook her head and retreated, that beautifully curious light fading from her eyes. “We should get this over with before we run out of hot water,” she told him, retrieving the soap once more and gently began to wash away the blood and grime from the night before. He didn’t press but it bothered him more than it should that she didn’t want him to see her naked. She had nothing to be shy about. There was something incredibly sexy about her that he’d totally missed at first glance. Everything about her was soft and womanly. In fact, he was still sporting a rock-hard cock, in spite of the fact that she’d stopped touching him with anything more than a clinical touch. “How’s this?” she asked him, gently scrubbing the area around his wound. He winced but nodded, encouraging her to continue. “You’re really lucky. The bullet missed all your major organs. Your guardian angel was working overtime last night.”

He grunted in agreement but if he’d ever had a guardian angel, that bitch quit on him the day he was born. Luck was never on his side. All he had was his intuition and it’d been banging last night, telling him that something was off. She finished and then shut the water off, helping him into a towel and leading him to her bedroom. “I’m going to have to get some clothes for you because yours are ruined with blood and a bullet hole,” she said, scrubbing her dripping hair as he watched. “Do you think you’ll be okay for a little while?”

He unwrapped the towel and tossed it to the floor before lying on the bed with a devilish grin. “I like playing doctor with you. Come exam me again. I promise to be a good patient.”

She smiled bashfully and walked toward him. “Is it weird that I like looking at you?” she asked.

“Not to me,” he answered. “I like the way you look at me.”

Delainey sat gingerly beside him, her gaze drinking him in like he was a tall glass of cool water on a hot day but just as her hand reached for his cock, she pulled back with a frown to ask, “Do you have a girlfriend or a wife?”

“Does it matter?”

Apparently, that was the wrong answer. She scowled. “Well, of course it matters. I can’t be fondling your junk when it belongs to someone else, now can I?”

“It belongs to me and if I say you can touch it, you can touch it,” he said, feeling the matter closed but it wasn’t to Delainey.

“Ugh. Men are all alike,” she said, rising to grab some clothes from her closet before disappearing behind the privacy of her bathroom door to yell. “And yes, it matters!”

So much for playing doctor, he sighed.

And things had just started to get interesting.

-3-

“Hello, earth to Dee?” Zoe’s fingers snapped in front of Delainey’s line of sight and she jumped, nearly knocking over a small display of umbrellas and causing people to stare at the commotion. Zoe made a “sorry, for making you look like a klutz” expression but still expected her to answer. “You’ve been a space cadet all morning. You’re the one who said you needed help doing some shopping and then you’ve gone all vacant-stare on me. What gives?”

Delainey wanted to tel

l her best friend in the world what was going on but she held her tongue. She didn’t know if she ought to share that she was harboring a Dog in her house when Zoe was sleeping with not one but two Kings. Could make for an awkward conversation that Delainey had no idea how to finesse so instead, she opted for a variation of the truth, wincing as she said, “I’m tired. Didn’t sleep very well last night.” She had a crick in her neck from sleeping on the sofa with one eye open. Let’s be honest, it’d been a pretty ballsy move on her part to let Bronx stay when she’d known nothing about him aside from the fact that he was a motorcycle club member. She grabbed something without really looking at it and held it up for Zoe’s opinion, if only to change the subject. “What do you think of this?”

Zoe grimaced just as Delainey realized what she’d grabbed. “Well, are you shopping for your grandfather? No one wears cardigans anymore, except hipsters and please, God, tell me you’re not dating one of those. I’d much rather accept that you’re dating Hugh Hefner than one of those pretentious idiots.”

Delainey returned the offensive sweater-thing with distaste. She couldn’t picture Bronx wearing something like that and she had a pretty active imagination. “No,” she groaned, feeling like the world’s biggest idiot. “I wasn’t paying attention. You’re right. I’m sorry. I’m a jumbled mess today. There’s a lot going on right now.”

“Which brings us back to the first question of the day, why are we shopping for men’s clothing for a man who is not here with us? What’s going on?”

“I can’t really give too many details,” she started and Zoe’s eyes widened with confusion. Delainey knew if she didn’t give Zoe something, she’d keep picking at her until Delainey sang like a canary. She tugged Zoe away from the throng of shoppers into a secluded corner before saying, “You have to promise to keep this quiet and I mean it.”