Blood & Bones: Deacon (Blood Fury MC 4)

He moved closer to her and murmured, “I wouldn’t. Unless you invited me for another reason.” He let that hang for a moment, then his half-grin disintegrated. “We’re helpin’ each other out, Reese. You seem to forget that.”

She hadn’t.

She sighed. “I’ll grab some things at the store if I get a chance, but I’ve got a full day ahead of me.”

He gave her a smile. “Appreciate it.”

That smile... Holy shit, it was too damn tempting. She needed to get the hell out of her house and to her office before she did something stupid.

We all do stupid shit, Reese. He’s an expert at suckin’ women in.

Billy Warren wasn’t the only one who was an expert. The man in front of her might not steal a woman’s money, but he probably stole other things. Like her sanity. Or her will to keep him at arm’s length. Or her heart.

Reese mentally groaned.

“You okay?”

No. No, she was not okay with a practically naked Deacon Edwards in her kitchen and who planned on masturbating in one of her bedrooms.

She grabbed her bowl of now cold cereal, scraped it into the trash and as she turned to put it in the sink, she froze.

Again.

And took a better look at him digging through her freezer.

She automatically stepped forward and frowned as she slowly studied the ink on his broad back. It took a few seconds to put together what she originally thought were smaller tattoos were really one large one.

The “banner” at the top of his back said BLOOD FURY, the bottom banner, PENNSYLVANIA. There was a little box to one side that had the letters MC in it. It was all done, like the rest of his tattoos, in black and grey. Except for the center drawing, where the only color was red blood coming from the skull and crossbones.

“What is that?” she whispered, hoping she was wrong.

He turned with a frozen, grass-fed New York strip steak in his hand, instead of the suggested turkey bacon, and rubbed his unencumbered hand over his bare chest. “What?” He peered over his shoulder. “My great ass?”

She circled her hand in the air. “That tattoo... What does it mean?”

“Which one?”

“You know exactly which one I’m talking about.”

“If you didn’t notice, got a few. Need to be specific.” He placed the butcher-paper wrapped steak on the counter and turned back to the fridge, grabbing the carton of free-range, local brown eggs. “You got tater tots hidin’ in that freezer somewhere?” He put the eggs down next to the stove.

She wanted to talk about tattoos, not tater tots. More specifically the meaning of those tattoos that made up one large one. A tattoo that wasn’t faded in any way, which meant it was inked into his skin not too long ago. So, it wasn’t from a “past life.” Oh no, that life, the reason he’d get a large tattoo like that, was current.

A burn began in her chest and worked its way up her throat. “Is my sister with a bunch of bikers?” Her stomach twisted and she dropped her bowl and spoon into the sink with a clatter. “Please tell me she’s not staying with a bunch of bikers.”

He crossed his arms over his chest and lifted his chin. He reminded her of an obstinate child.

So, she treated him like one. “Answer me.”

“If I fuckin’ answer you, you ain’t gonna like my answer.”

She pressed a hand to her forehead and groaned. “You took my sister, who has a habit of making bad decisions, to stay with a bunch of bikers. I need you to tell me I’m wrong and she’s staying with your family instead. Your cousin, even.”

“My cousin is one of those bikers.”

“Fuck!” exploded from her, making Justice whine and nudge her hand. She strode to the other side of the kitchen, then spun on the dog’s owner. “You said she’d be safe.”

“Nowhere safer.”

She doubted that. She might be safe from Billy there, but...

Reilly didn’t have the self-control that Reese did when it came to men like him.

And now she was surrounded by men who acted like Deacon, rode motorcycles like Deacon, had tattoos like Deacon, and if they looked anything like...

“Deacon,” she groaned.

“Reese, she’ll be okay. Promise.”

She hated the fact she had to rely on his word. “I only ever wanted what was best for her.”

“Yeah, and hookin’ up with a biker would be the fuckin’ worst.”

Her hands clenched into fists and she pinned them to her thighs. “She doesn’t need to be hooking up with anyone right now. That’s my point. She needs to recover from the mistake she already made recently and get her life back on track.” She ground the heels of her palms into her eyes, not worried if she smeared her mascara, she was more worried about having a meltdown right in the middle of her kitchen.