Chapter 7: Chapter 7

Neat as a pin. That was Talia’s first impression upon entering Tuck’s room. Obviously, he had OCD. Either that or he was a serial killer. In all her days, growing up as the only girl in a family with four boys, being married, working with mostly men, she had never seen a room so tidy.

Everything had a place, not that there was much to speak of—a couple of photographs and a catch-all dish on the dresser, a black silk tapestry of King Tut on the wall along with some Playboy-esque posters, a desk lamp on the nightstand. Yep, tidy.

Aware that Tuck would join her any moment, she used what little precious time she had alone to her advantage and got straight to work. She started with the closet, opening it to find something resembling an infomercial for Huggable Hangers; a row of neatly hung clothing in mostly shades of black and gray stared back at her. Heavy boots and a pair of worn tennis shoes stood in a neat row on the floor alongside a massive stack of Bowflex free weights—damn, she’d always wanted a set of those; and judging by the size and firmness of his arms, they definitely delivered. A small black safe tucked into a corner behind a stack of neatly folded blankets caught her attention, but, as she’d never dappled in bank robbery, she wasn’t adept at cracking combination codes. Besides, it looked to be one of those standard Brink’s deals: small, rectangular, and roughly twenty-five dollars at any major shopping store. It was probably filled with old tax documents and sand dollars.

She moved on.

The bathroom was next. It was the same deal as the bedroom. Sparkling clean, there was nothing of note: Two towels, black; matching bath mat; minimal cleaning supplies neatly arranged inside the shower caddy; a gleaming and probably expensive, old-fashioned shaving kit next to the sink.

Back in the bedroom she went. Dropping down on her hands and knees beside the bed, Talia flipped back the gray pinstriped duvet and found…a whole lot of nothing.

Well, he did have a few dust bunnies gathered along the baseboard.

Maybe she’d tell him about that later, just for shits and giggles. No doubt it would drive Mr. Clean straight up a wall.

The nightstand was next. Three drawers of secrets just waiting to be revealed. The top drawer whispered open revealing nothing but a few wrinkled papers, a well-worn copy of Wuthering Heights, and a pair of reading glasses.

Talia frowned, trying to picture Tuck—badass, leather wearing biker, stacked full of muscle and sex-appeal—sitting in bed at night mooning over an old romance novel. Wearing glasses.

She couldn’t.

Maybe the book had belonged to his mother, or perhaps was left behind by one of the many women he’d bedded, she surmised.

Fun thought that was, especially when she was looking forward to becoming another notch in his lengthy belt.

Man, she must be dumb. Or just that hard up for dick. She didn’t even know the man, but hell, that was part of the appeal. Not only would she get laid, but if she was lucky, she might glean enough information from being within these four walls to push the investigation forward—or warrant an arrest.

Either way, she was getting something out of tonight.

The next drawer was equally uninspiring, holding random objects, like a half-empty tube of Mentos and some old gamer magazines. On the plus side, she could now add gaming to his list of extracurriculars, right beside manwhoring.

Talia was ready to throw in the towel by the time she closed the second drawer up tight, but, never one to quit halfway through anything, she gave the door a quick glance to make sure no one was coming through it, then drew open the third.

Her jaw dropped and her face flamed. Suddenly short of breath, Talia took a peek through the collection of sex toys, using the tip of her forefinger to nudge one out of the way here and there.

“Busy boy,” she mused as she scoped out a peach-colored dildo that was easily seven inches long. Beside it sat a cock ring, some kind of medieval looking device that looked godawful and she wasn’t even going to chance a guess at, a package of dental dams, a variety pack of flavored Magnums, and an economy size bottle of lube.

Well, he certainly took sex to a whole ‘nother level. At least he was safe about it, she reasoned.

Seeing his toys made Talia reflect on her own plain vanilla sexual history and blush. Since the divorce, she’d spent some time browsing online, so she wasn’t completely in the dark about what people did when they wanted to spice things up in the bedroom. It was just that she’d never experienced any of it personally. Just thinking of Tuck using any number of those things on her made her insides flare and her thighs clench.

Not one to be a prude, she wasn’t opposed to trying anything at least once, but she’d be lying if she said it didn’t make her a little nervous. The unknown had a way of making even the toughest stomach take a brief nosedive.

The dildo, she thought as she shoved the drawer closed and pushed off the floor to claim a seat on the side of the bed. Of all the equipment he had, it was the most familiar and probably the tamest.

And she was getting ahead of herself, right? Assuming that he was going to jump her bones and get all freaky on top of it. But he didn’t look like the type to play it sweet, she thought to herself next. You just met him, after all, and you’re in his room, waiting for him to come back and make good on his promise.

Man, those lips. Recalling the way they felt on hers, soft and silky but equally hard and demanding at the same time, nearly had her panting. The man knew how to kiss, that was for sure. If they did nothing else beyond that kiss, she’d still be feeling it for days, it was that good.

What the hell was she thinking? Just a kiss? No, she did not put her life and career on the line for just a kiss, dammit, no matter how mind-melting, bone-liquefying, and earth-shattering it was.

A streak of determination whisked through her, and Talia sat up straight, her gaze fixing on the open bathroom door. Why should she just sit there and wait for him to call the shots? If she were a man and in his position, she’d take complete control of the situation, just as she expected he was planning to do.

Well, instead of putting all the decision-making into his hands and leaving the night up to chance, Talia was going to make for damn sure that she got something out of the transaction—whether that be sex and information, or just sex, it didn’t really matter. She wasn’t walking away empty-handed.

Kicking off her shoes, she pulled off her shirt as she made her way into the bathroom, laying the groundwork for what she hoped would be an unforgettable night with each dropped item that landed in a haphazard heap on the floor as she went—just like little breadcrumbs. When she reached the shower, naked as the day she was born aside from the mischievous smile that stretched across her face, Talia cranked on the water and stepped under the hot spray.

***

Talia was soaping her breasts when she heard the click of the bedroom door closing. It was faint, easily something that could go unnoticed, but she had been keeping both ears open for Tuck’s return. Now that he was back, she was ready to offer herself up like a prized pig at the county fair. Not that letting him feast on her would be much of a sacrifice. More like an offering, she thought with a self-deprecating smile. She’d had plenty of time to work herself into a lather, and it wasn’t the kind that came from a bar of soap.

Hearing a distant rustle of what she assumed to be clothing being removed, she felt her heart rate increase along with her excitement. One of the many things she enjoyed about her job had always been the short-lived adrenalin spike she experienced in tense situations. And this was a tense situation if ever she’d been in one. If she allowed herself to analyze it too closely, she could almost feel ashamed for being so aroused by what was clearly a dangerous situation, not to mention one that was fueled by deception.

In a perfect world, Tucker Abrams would be the good guy with a heart of gold, and there wouldn’t be a gulf of lies between them.

But that wasn’t the case, now, was it?

No, and Talia would do well to remember that. Sex in exchange for information. That was the goal tonight. She would feel him out, both physically and verbally, and once he was asleep, she would expand her search to the rest of the compound. If she was lucky, she’d dig up something juicy. If Lady Luck wasn’t on her side, she’d likely turn up dead in the morning.

Oh, the things she was willing to do for her country!

Speaking of country…

Talia focused the whole of her attention on what was going on out in the room, but she could hear nothing over the noise of the rushing water. Wondering what the holdup was, she lifted her chin and called out, “I hope you don’t mind me using your shower. I thought I’d freshen up for you. But now that you’re back, maybe you want to join me? We can take turns washing each other.”

The offer hung in the air, unanswered. Talia frowned, unsure what to make of the continued silence. Was he pissed that she was using his facilities, or had she simply misheard and he hadn’t returned at all?

A shiver of unease snaked down her spine as Talia peeled back the corner of the shower curtain and poked her head out. A thick blanket of steam hung in the air, creating a bank of fluffy white clouds between her and the doorway, but through the haze, she was able to make out the steady gray form of a person standing there.

“Hey, you,” she greeted. “I was starting to wonder if I was going crazy. So, are you going to stand there all day staring, or are you going to join me? Tuck…?”

Her voice trailed off, and when he didn’t answer, Talia’s stomach lurched, the warning bells clanging in her ears. With alarming clarity, something inside her told her that whoever that was, it wasn’t Tuck.

Narrowing her eyes, she sized up the figure, realizing that it was much too short and thin to be him. In fact, it looked more like a—

“Who the fuck are you, and what are you doing in Country’s room?” The reedy female voice carried easily over the shower’s spray. It’s sharp, high pitch instantly sent Talia’s hackles up in warning, and she suddenly regretted her decision to take a shower. Being naked and alone in a biker sanctuary was not an ideal position to be in when confronted with what she assumed to be a jilted ex. Unless she was his old lady? If that was the case, shit just got real, and that whole dead by sunrise thing just might become a reality.

Instinct told her to keep her cool. Years of training reminded her to present strength and confidence and to prepare for anything.

With a steady hand, Talia reached down and shut off the water. “I’m Talia, and you are?” she deadpanned as she reached for the midnight towel hanging on the wall. As if she had no qualms about being buck naked in front of a foaming-at-the-mouth stranger while deep within hostile territory.

“I’m asking the questions here, bitch. Now, what are you doing in here?”

“Taking a shower?” she said, knowingly pushing the limits of the woman’s patience. As she wrapped herself in the towel and stepped out onto the plush bathmat, the fog shifted, allowing Talia a clearer image of the woman she was facing off against. Her assessment was quick and to the point: pretty, petite, and untamed. Whoever she was, she was wild, and in Talia’s experience, wild meant unpredictable.

She definitely wasn’t planning to make any sudden movements.

“Look, I’m sure you heard that Country and I had a little disagreement, but you should know that he and I ain’t over. Trust me, many women have tried and failed, so whatever you thought was going to happen here tonight, isn’t.”

Well, that didn’t sound the least bit threatening, did it? And in the words of Shakespeare himself, Talia couldn’t help thinking the lady doth protest too much.

“Does Tuck know this?” she asked wearily, her gaze flickering toward the sink area. There wasn’t much she could use as a weapon, but in a pinch, she might be able to use the safety razor to her advantage.

“Tuck?” The woman’s laugh was sharp as the crack of a whip, and Talia got the impression that she had struck a nerve. Well, even more than she apparently already had. “Listen, bitch, I’m gonna be nice and give you five seconds to collect your shit and get out before I call Repo in here to drag your ass out, capiche?”

Her hackles rose. Not the least bit intimidated by the thickness of her attitude, Talia’s patience had worn so thin, it might as well be made of papier-mâché. Tightening the knot of fabric between her breasts, she stuck out a hip. “The name is Talia,” she reminded her, throwing attitude right back, “and Tuck, Country, whatever you wanna call him invited me here, so call whoever you want, but I’m not going anywhere until he tells me to.”

Eyes narrowing to fine slits, the woman’s upper lip curled back. “Fine, have it your way,” she said, and by the airy tone of her voice, Talia knew that the backlash would be severe.

Maybe she’d underestimated her opponent. By some small miracle, the woman turned on her heel and left rather than engage Talia physically. She would have taken her no problem, but Talia wasn’t in the mood for a fight. It was enough that her adrenaline was running on high due to the verbal confrontation. Now all she wanted was either to get dressed and leave or for Tuck to return. At least with him around, she had some kind of buffer—a safeguard to protect her from bunny boiling lunatics. She had to wonder if all the women in the club were like that or if she was just a special breed. Either way, Tuck really knew how to pick ‘em.

And where the hell was that man, anyway?

Drying off, Talia took her first step back into the bedroom when a man the size of a redwood came barreling through the door. Talia’s gaze skated over him in a quick assessment: the tan coloring of his skin, the pure-as-the-driven-snow white beard and hair, all framing cold as ice eyes that cut like a diamond the way they stared her down as if she had just shit in his size thirteen steel-toe boots.

A frisson of fear twisted through her like the blade of a knife, and a lump formed in her throat. Swallowing, Talia tried her best to appear unaffected, but she was well aware of the subtle vibration that traveled the length of her legs. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d truly been afraid, but with the Terminator bearing down on her, it felt like an appropriate response.

“That’s her,” the woman with the voice snarled as she appeared at his side. “She broke into Country’s room and wouldn’t leave when I told her to.”

Talia glared at the little tattletale troublemaker as she pulled up her internal bootstraps and began the difficult process of thinking her way through a sticky situation. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped farther into the room and, once she was within arm’s reach, extended her hand to the man.

“Hi, I’m Talia, Tuck’s friend. And you must be…”—she tilted her head to the side, recalling the threat the woman had issued before leaving—“Repo?”

His stony expression remained impassive, and Talia would have thought him impossible to read if not for the subtle shift behind those startling blue eyes.

“Have we met?” he asked in a baritone that vibrated from his chest like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

Wow, Talia thought, that was kind of sexy. “No, but your friend here mentioned you earlier. I just made the connection.”

“We’re not friends. And observance doesn’t earn you points with me,” he said, his tone scolding. “Does Country know you’re in his room?”

“I should hope so. He’s the one who brought me here.”

Repo’s bushy brows dove down over his eyes. “You’re not a bunny.”

Now it was Talia’s turn to frown. “Uh, no. Nope. Just red-blooded woman.” A bunny? Why in the—

“So you’re his date.”

“I guess?” Although “date” wasn’t exactly the term she would have used.

Repo stared her down for several long seconds before drawing in a deep breath that lifted his broad chest, expanding it to twice its normal size. “Never thought I’d see the day…Well,”

he said with an almost lighthearted flare, “have fun with that.”

“Uh…thanks.”

The as-yet-unnamed woman’s face turned a deep shade of scarlet, and Talia wouldn’t have been surprised if her head exploded. “That’s it? You’re gonna let her stay?”

Turning his back on them both, Repo started for the hall, his booted feet clomping against the carpeted floor. “Yep.”

“But she’s not one of us!”

“No, but she’s Country’s date.”

“And he’s my man!”

“Not according to what I’ve heard. Now, I suggest you come along before Country finds you in here harassing his lady friend and kicks you out all over again.” His smile was placating and just plain terrifying. Talia held her breath and had to talk herself out of running back to the bathroom and locking herself inside. As it was, she couldn’t believe the other woman had the balls to stand up to him as if he was as insignificant as an annoying fly buzzing around a picnic table.

“He was in a mood. He didn’t mean it,” the woman argued.

Repo wore a bored expression when he said, “Be that as it may, get the fuck outta his room before I’m forced to drag you out myself.”

“But—”

“No buts!” he roared, making both women jump. “Country says who’s in his room and who isn’t, and tonight, you’re not. Now git!”

Before Talia could blink, Repo had a hold of the woman’s knobby shoulder and was yanking her out into the hall. He gave her a good whirl then shoved her ahead of him. She stumbled, catching herself on the wall, before recovering just as quickly.

“You—”

Repo held up a giant finger, cutting her off. “Say one cross word and I will tan that ass good.”

She shut right up. With an evil glare directed at both of them, she spun away with a huff. Repo turned that unsettling gaze back to Talia, and she swallowed, bracing herself for whatever came next.

“Sorry for the fuss. She’s a rowdy one, but she knows her place.” His gaze skated over her. “You really Country’s girl?”

Caught off guard by the question, Talia said, “Um, for tonight…I guess?”

He nodded sharply. “My boy’s got taste. Well, I’m sure he’s already told you, but don’t leave this room without him. Not unless you’re plannin’ to sample more than one flavor.”

Her jaw dropped at the blatant innuendo. “Are you threatening me?”

“Nope, just stating facts. You walk out of this room unescorted, my brothers will consider you fair game.”

“What about her?” Talia questioned, pointing in the direction the other woman had gone off in. “She didn’t have an…escort.”

“Bambi? She doesn’t need one. Bunnies know the game, and they come here to play. And like I said before,” he said with another slow perusal, “you’re not a bunny.”

No, she certainly wasn’t. Just thinking about being passed around like a piece of meat caused a shudder of revulsion to course through her.

Seeing her understanding, Repo tipped his head to her. “Nice meeting you…”

“Talia,” she provided out of habit, although, on second thought, she wasn’t exactly comfortable with the guy knowing her name, but it was too late to take it back.

“Talia,” he repeated, his voice a gentle caress against her ears. “Remember what I said.”

About not leaving the room? Yeah, she got that memo loud and clear. Watching him leave was a relief as much as it was a disappointment. As scary as the man was, he was also her champion and therefore her protector in a strange way. Alone once again, Talia felt the absence like a physical touch around her throat, a choking sensation that threatened to cut off her airways.

Oh Lord, she was having a panic attack.

Reaching behind her, Talia took several stumbling steps backward until she felt the bed beneath her fingertips and then dropped down on the mattress’s edge. The struggle to control her breathing was real, and she scrambled to recall the exercises she’d been taught.

Slow, deep breaths. Concentrate on the feel of the blanket under her hand—the texture, the warmth. As her emotions began to settle and she felt herself reconnect with her surroundings, Talia breathed a sigh of relief. It hadn’t gotten out of control this time.

She used to have anxiety attacks a lot growing up, putting so much pressure on herself to succeed in everything she did that she’d push herself right into an attack. Eventually, she’d gotten a handle on it, learned not to push herself to the brink like that, and soon she stopped having them altogether. Hell, the last time had been…years ago, back when she first started working for the Feds. She’d been so eager to please, to say and do every single little thing right, that she’d had a meltdown right in front of the director. It’d been the single most humiliating moment of her life.

And here she was again. But why? She’d been in high-stress situations before—stakeouts, gunfire, undercover, you name it. She hadn’t lost her cool once. Now, in the face of an admittedly scary biker and woman content with being nothing more than a cum dumpster, she folds? It just didn’t make any sense.

“Get your shit together, McKinnon,” she muttered to herself. Scraping a palm down her face, she considered her next move. It should be something daring. Something boundary-pushing. Something that could prove to her that she wasn’t losing her edge—or her mind.

Her gaze moved to the table next to the bed. If anyone knew about edgy, it was the man whose room she now sat in.

An idea struck her, and Talia smiled. Yes, she knew exactly what to do to move this night along. Not only would it reinforce her steel-trap mind and give her a night to remember, but with any luck, it would give her the edge she needed to earn Tuck’s trust so she could slide in under his radar and get the answers she was looking for.

But first, she needed to close that door.