Page 12
Bullet
A fter the incident , I spent the night in eternal damnation.
Alright, so it wasn’t that bad, but even after the hottest masturbation event of my life, with Lynette watching every second, I was still hard as a steel pipe. After she fled, I kept thinking about her upstairs, wondering if she was sleeping, if she’d had to touch herself too, or die with the aching.
Now that the sun is bleeding pink and purple streaks into a lake of bruised indigo, it seems more like a die of mortification situation. I know we’re gonna have to talk about it sometime. That’s the mature thing to do. I should apologize.
Mostly for getting myself off and leaving her hanging.
I know she wants to keep things professional, and all the lines were crossed last night. It was the worst possible timing.
That said, I’ll never be able to erase the image of her striding into the room, gun extended in front of her like she meant to use it, a warrior goddess going into battle. I didn’t know whether to be ashamed or even more turned on. My dick knew, and when the fucker wouldn’t get the fuck back into my pants, and then… Lynette’s strong command.
A volley of shivers skitters up my spine and my arms break into goosebumps even now. Lynette said we wouldn’t talk about it. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever. However, needs outweigh wants, and I don’t feel like it’s a situation where we can avoid having it out.
Starting with an apology breakfast.
I don’t know what time Lynette and Willa will be up, but the fridge is fully stocked. I’m no cook, but I can put together bacon, eggs, and toast as well as the next guy. I even slice up some oranges, tomatoes, and avocados, and find a bottle of southwest sauce.
No one can resist the scents of freshly brewed coffee and hickory bacon for long.
Willa stumbles into the kitchen first, an oversized pink sweater falling basically to her knees, black leggings poking out from below, hair up in a messy bun. Lynette walks in a few minutes later, put together in a pair of wide leg dress pants, black heels with pointed toes, and a cherry red blouse that makes me want to react the way a bull does on seeing that color.
My dick, who I’ve been chastening all night, twitches to life immediately.
Her flawless makeup, along with her clothing, is like a shield against me. She’s powerful and impressive. She might as well have walked into this kitchen in a full suit of armor. It’s as much of a sign as I’m going to get.
Last night did not happen.
Willa digs into an orange slice, messily spraying juice halfway across the table. She slurps it up and grins at her sister. “Sit down, Linny. I know you don’t do breakfast, but you have to make an exception for this. He made bacon.”
“I realize. We’re all going to leave here with bacon scented perfume clinging to us.”
Willa laughs. “People will be hungry wherever we go.”
Lynette pours herself a mug of coffee and sits down, probably just to appease her sister. She helps herself to a single slice of light rye toast, buttering it sparingly.
“Atlas is coming around noon to take Willa over to see the college and get ready, since she starts in two days.” I got that text a few hours ago. I might as well lead with it while I flip the rest of the bacon to make sure it’s good and crispy, but not burnt.
“Which one is Atlas?” Willa asks, looking far too interested.
“The one who looks like a movie star,” Lynette mumbles grudgingly. “He’s going to be taking classes with you just to make sure you’re protected. You should probably pretend you don’t know him. Pretend all the time, Willa.”
I line a plate with a paper towel, then flip the bacon on and set it on the table. “How do you like your eggs?”
“Dippy,” Willa says.
“Preferably not at all,” Lynette snarks, sipping coffee that is so dark, it’s got to be rot gut and bitter as hell.
“She’ll take them sunny side up as well. Two, please.”
“Atlas is going through some shit,” I warn Willa as I crack eggs into a fresh frying pan. I’ll cook my own in the bacon grease, but I’m not sure that Lynette would appreciate the flavor.
“Okay, so don’t flirt with him. Got it. He’s off limits, just like everyone else in the club. No bad boys. Be a good girl. We’re here to make friends only.” She waves a piece of bacon at Lynette, biting into it and talking with her mouth full. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”
I believe that about as much as I’m a gourmet chef. I barely have any idea what I’m doing with the eggs. I flip them, and since they’re not slimy anymore, I figure that’s good enough. Willa seems happy enough. Lynette just sighs.
She sighs again when I crack five eggs into the bacon frying pan and scramble them.
“No wonder he’s the size of a small house,” Willa whispers to her sister.
I’ve done more blushing in a single night than I have in my whole life combined. I don’t want to start again. I duck my face and talk shop. “Smoke will be coming over to keep watch. I’m going back to the clubhouse for a few hours. I’ll try to figure out what we’re doing about Harold, and I’ll get a meeting scheduled for you to sit down with Raiden and Tyrant and a few of the other officers.”
I glance sidelong at the table and find Lynette bent over the eggs, picking at them, but eating anyway. She doesn’t ask if I’ll be there. It’s like a fork jabbed into my side that I want her to.
“Raiden and Wizard will be here this afternoon. Raiden’s great with numbers. He does all the club’s books. Wizard will help you get a website set up for your business, get you incorporated, and everything else that needs to be taken care of.”
“What?” Willa fairly yells, dropping her fork. “You’re going to be setting up your own firm?”
Lynette winces. “Don’t sound so excited. It’s pretty much my only choice right now, given that no one else is going to hire me.”
“Babe! Working for yourself is going to be awesome!” Willa squeals. At least she’s excited enough for both of them. “I always thought you’d be better as a one-woman show, kicking ass, keeping all the money you make and getting the respect you deserve, than working for that stodgy place where everyone is so eager to be a partner that they’d slit anyone’s throat in a second if it meant getting there.”
“No one was going to slit anyone’s throat,” Lynette mutters.
“It was the very definition of cutthroat.” Willa uses her fork to make a quick slicing motion in front of her throat.
“They’ll get you signed up for health insurance. Willa is covered through the college, as far as I understand it. All the paperwork will be handled this afternoon.”
“You don’t have to do that,” Lynette protests. “It’s too much.”
“We do. I need a good lawyer representing me, and my court date is coming soon.”
“You’re a nice man, Bullet,” Willa cuts in. “The guys from your club are too. Lynette thinks so, she just won’t say it.”
Lynette turns crimson, but she faces me down, stubborn and proud as ever. “I do think so and I will say it. I’m sorry I judged you and made comments about the club when we first met. I was incredibly wrong.”
A beat of silence passes between us. I break it first, turning off the burner and shoveling the eggs onto my plate. There’s a free chair in the middle of the table. The other is shoved up against the wall for extra space in the kitchen.
I have my ass in the seat for all of two seconds before Willa makes me want to leap right up out of it. “The sexual tension between you two is so real that it’s stifling. Just bang already. I could go for a really long walk if you want to do it before Atlas comes to get me.”
“Willa!” Lynette snaps, just about the same color as her blouse now. “That’s far too blunt. It’s embarrassing.” Lynette’s no coward. She looks me right in the eye. “We’re just associates. That’s all we can be, as per the law. There are rules about professional conduct.”
“Yeah right,” Willa scoffs.
“Seriously.” Lynette’s hard expression leaves little room for doubt. “Unless a relationship existed beforehand, it’s considered unethical and is prohibited.”
“What are they going to do? Fire you?”
Lynette’s sigh escapes slowly, like a slow puncture. “I could lose the ability to practice as a lawyer at all.”
Willa might take that seriously, but she still rolls her eyes dramatically. “Just friends. Okay. Got it. Friends who bang when Bullet’s case is over and he’s not a client anymore.”
“The club will be a client,” Lynette insists.
“In that case,” Willa argues proudly, not at all afraid of her sister’s incinerating death glares, “the whole relationship existing beforehand will be true, so you’re good to go.”
“No.”
“Yes!” Willa tries pleading her case with me. “Lynette won’t ever allow anything good to happen to her that isn’t related to her career. I’m not saying that no shouldn’t mean no. I’m saying that you could romance her, because her no right now doesn’t really mean no. Her no means that she’s scared, though she’d never show it. Flirt with her. Do the cheesy stuff. She’ll pretend to hate it, and she’ll have every excuse ever why she shouldn’t be happy. But in the end, please succeed in wooing her. She deserves someone good. Something that is just for her.” Willa shovels down the rest of her eggs and takes a piece of bacon to go. “I’ve said my bit. I’m going for a walk now.”
“No!”
“No.”
Lynette and I both protest at the same time. She’s got both hands curled around the edge of the table, white knuckling it. Her eyes are unnaturally wide and more than a little frantic.
“No,” I explain calmly. “Please don’t walk around anywhere by yourself, at least right now.”
Willa shrugs good naturedly. “Okay. In that case, I’ll take an extra-long shower. Feel free to talk. I can see you both need to.” She sways out of the kitchen, happy with herself and all the turmoil she’s caused. Maybe all the things she’s fixed too.
Lynette eats fast, then puts her plate in the sink and rinses it off. Her hands curl around the counter as she leans forward to look out the window. Unlike her Seattle house, this one overlooks the backyard and not the garage.
“We should talk about it,” I offer, staying where I am at the table, so she doesn’t feel crowded.
“About what?” The rigid set of her spine betrays the tension running through her.
About the fact that I jacked off in front of you and I’d like to do it again.
“I wouldn’t have done it if I’d known it could affect you professionally.”
“Yes, well… sometimes lapses of judgment happen, I told you to continue. It’s not your fault.”
“No, I shouldn’t have been doing that. I take full responsibility for the lack of control. It won’t happen again.”
She turns, half snarling, ready for a fight, but something flashes in her eyes that looks dangerously close to disappointment.
“Or it could happen when it’s an appropriate time,” I amend, but that just makes her snarl harder.
She’s like a female wolf, ready to protect a fresh kill. She’s such a contradiction, so fierce in those professional clothes, and so unearthly beautiful, that it makes me want to laugh and shudder together. Not in fear, obviously.
“You don’t have to go back to that, or all the way back. You can do things legally and still hold on to your morals and principles, and be here. You could… you could still be you and be with me when the timing is right.”
I half expect her to channel all that ferocity and blast me, but she drops her head, letting her wavy hair fall over her face like a curtain. The tension jackknifes between us, oozing away like water through a puncture in a dam. I knew that something shifted last night, but I didn’t think it could last. I thought we’d have it out, and she’d tell me with her iron will that it absolutely couldn’t happen again. I’d agree and I’d apologize for the supremely poor judgment.
Some sensation surges up inside me, pushing up like a seedling through thick soil, searching for the light, but I swallow it back before it has a chance to escape.
Professional. Boundaries. Walls. Borders. Those are the words of the day, and they have to remain the words I need to take seriously until my trial is done, or until Harold drops the charges. Whichever comes first.
“The office is already set up just down the hall. I think I’ll go spend some time in there getting everything ready so that by the time Raiden and Wizard get here, I’ve actually done something to further my own cause. I don’t want to have to rely on them, or anyone else from the club, for anything more than I have to.” She glares at me fiercely. “Not because I don’t appreciate it or don’t want it. It’s just that I’m used to doing things for myself. That’s not going to change overnight, and when it’s something like this, I should be doing most of the legwork on my own. Anything less just feels lazy. There’s a difference between being pigheaded and driven. I’ll accept help, but I’m going to do more than my fair share of the work.”
The ‘this is how it’s going to be’ attitude and the hard edge to her words might drive another man insane. It might even turn him off completely, and thank god for that. It does the opposite to me.
I just promised I’d use my brain instead of my cock for the large part of the decision-making process, but here I am, wishing I could strip Lynette right out of those clothes, muss her hair, take her here on the counter, the floor, up against the wall, before heading to her home office and fucking her seventy ways to Sunday in there. Seven would never even be close to enough.
For the love of fuck , now I’m harder than titanium again.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Her brows arch up and crash down.
I barely refrain from laughing. She’s not good at hiding her surprise. “Did you expect that I’d argue with you? Act like a macho, chauvinistic, caveman douchebag?”
“I thought you might protest at least a little.”
“No. I want you to be comfortable. I want you to be okay here. Safe. Most of all, I want you to be happy.”
“That’s a tall order. Happiness . You’re not responsible for it.” Her voice is gravelly, and I can hear how much it means to her, though she’s trying not to let it show, that I’d make the offer. “We’ll be okay. Finding my backbone and having an iron will has never been my issue.”
“It’s the softer stuff.”
She bites down on her lip and nods.
I can’t believe she’s being this open. Even just that small admission is monumental.
I let her leave, her heels clacking on the hardwood floor until she reaches the office and then there’s just the quiet shuffle of papers, the shuffling of a case opening, the musical tone of a laptop coming to life.
I thought this would be hard for Lynette and probably for Willa too, but they seem to be far more adaptable and better at managing their emotions than I’ve been. I’ve never been bombarded with so many different sensations as I am now.
I don’t know if Lynette will ever agree to something more than a sort of friendship, a relationship as a bodyguard of sorts, or as a client because I’m part of the club. I don’t know if I have any right to ask her for more.
Opposites might attract, as some of the men in the club have proved, finding love against seemingly impossible odds, but just because I’ve watched it happen to guys in my own club doesn’t mean it’ll work out for me.
What can I really offer her? How long would it be before we found out just how wrong we are for each other? We might have a few things in common, but it truly is just a few. If it ever started, could it last? Would momentary happiness be worth the pain when it ended, as it probably would?
I don’t have an answer for that.
I have answers to fuck all lately, and it’s starting to drive me nuts.
All I can do is vow that I’ll have my priorities in order. First, the club will come for Harold, then, I’ll come for Lynette.
Romantically. The wooing stuff that Willa mentioned. The sweet stuff.
Not the way I did last night.
I mean, fuck, if it’s right, maybe I could do both, but if it ever happens again, there’s zero chance that I’m going to let Lynette walk away unsatisfied again.