“Um, hi, Deke?” I asked.

“Fuck it,” Cookie said, turning her head to glare at him. She stood and walked out, pushing past the big biker without another word.

Awkward.

Deke walked slowly to the table, then leaned across it on his hands, his face about a foot from mine.

“What the hell was that about?” he asked, his voice like ice. God, did he have any settings that weren’t scary?

“I have no idea,” I whispered, eyes wide. “Seriously. We were just sitting here playing cards and she started talking. I’ve never heard her say anything like that before. I had no idea . . .”

My voice trailed off. Deke nodded, then sat down across from me. He folded his arms across his chest and studied me like a bug. I hoped very sincerely I wouldn’t pee my pants, because that’s how terrifying he was. No joke.

“We need to talk.”

“Okay?”

“Your dad wants you home,” he said. “You should’ve gone with Kit yesterday.”

“I’m not going home. Coeur d’Alene isn’t a good place for me anymore.”

“Listen up, little girl,” Deke told me, his voice cold and matter of fact. “Hunter is using you. I know you don’t like that idea. It probably hurts your feelings or some such shit. But these are the facts. This club—your club—is under attack. We don’t know for sure that the Jacks are behind it, but we do know one thing—when they needed a weak link last time, they went after you. You already fell for Hunter’s shit once. He’s a proven liar who’s not afraid to use a woman to get what he wants. Don’t you think it’s a pretty big coincidence that he just happened to be with you the night everything went down? The Jacks could be trying to pit us against the cartel for their own reasons. For all you know, he’s using you to convince us they’re victims, too. Take us off guard for another sneak attack.”

“What about their president?” I demanded. “Two men are dead, Deke.”

“So they say,” he replied, leaning back in his chair. “But all the cops are saying is that two men were shot. We know their club is tearing apart at the seams. Their VP—Burke—has stepped up, but there’s no guarantee he can hold them together. At least that’s how I read it. For all we know, the Jacks took them out for their own reasons. Power struggle.”

I shook my head.

“You didn’t see his face,” I said. “It was real, Deke. He had no idea.”

“Says the girl who talked to a Devil’s Jack online for almost three months without a f**kin’ clue she was being set up. Use your brain, Em. Don’t make a fool of yourself again. Just go home and forget you ever met him.”

I stood carefully, blinking back tears, and walked out of the kitchen with as much dignity as I could manage. I agreed with Cookie—Deke needed to go away.

I didn’t like him one little bit.

TUESDAY

ME: I’m sick of being stuck in this house. They won’t let us do anything. Not even Kit is this trapped in Coeur d’Alene!!!

HUNTER: They didn’t shoot up the clubhouse in CDA and it’s farther north. Not the same thing. But I hear you—I’ll be back to town tomorrow. See you then?

ME: Definitely

HUNTER: Think I can call tonight. I never have any privacy, but I f**king miss you. Want to hear your voice. Keep thinking of that sexy mouth of yours and what it will look like wrapped around my dick.

ME: Um . . .

HUNTER: Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you first, babe . . . And after. I can’t wait to strip off all your clothes and get you naked in my bed. Might not let you out for a month.

ME: Well, when you put it like that . . . Ok :)

My phone rang at ten p.m. I’d almost given up on him calling, so when he did, I was so excited I nearly fell off my bed.

“Hey,” I said, trying not to sound too eager. “How are you?”

“Exhausted,” he said. “I’ve been down to California and back a couple times now. I hate to admit it, but I think it might be time to park the bike and break out the cage. I hate winter in Oregon.”

I laughed.

“It’s not even winter yet, and at least it’s warmer here than Coeur d’Alene,” I said. “They had the first snow last night, according to Kit. She wants to know if I’m coming home for Thanksgiving.”

“What did you say?”

“I haven’t made any plans yet,” I said carefully. There were so many things we hadn’t had time to talk about. It wasn’t like either of us had our own place. Did he want to spend the holiday together? I kept looking back over our texts to make sure I hadn’t hallucinated the whole thing. “Figured I’d see how things play out. I can’t wait to be with you again.”

“The feeling is mutual, trust me,” he muttered. “Christ, I’ve been thinking about talking to you all day, and now that I’ve finally got some privacy to do it, I’m f**kin’ exhausted. Sorry, babe.”

“Don’t worry about it,” I said. “Why don’t I talk and you can listen?”

“Sounds good.”

“I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” I said hesitantly. “About what I plan to do to you when we finally get together again. I want it to be special, so I decided to do a little research.”

“Oh really?” he asked, and while he still sounded tired, I caught a hint of something else, too. “You do this ‘research’ on another guy?”

I burst out laughing.

“Yeah, because there are so many available men in this house. Reapers don’t count, especially annoying ones. No, I decided to download a book, get some ideas.”

“Sounds interesting,” he murmured. “What kind of ideas?”

“Well, you know I don’t have tons of experience,” I said. “So I figured if I wanted to do this right—sex, I mean—it might be a good idea to read a manual. I bought the Guide to Getting It On. Interesting stuff. For example, did you know that most men are far more sensitive on the top half of their penises than the bottom half?”

“I haven’t researched the wider population, but I’m not surprised,” he said, sounding amused.

“Well, that’s why it’s so important that when I do finally get you alone, I make sure I spend a lot of time exploring the head first. I think it’s the . . . hmm, let me check my notes. The frenulum? You know, the little—”

He started laughing.

“Babe, two things. Don’t use the word ‘little’ when you talk about my dick, okay? And two, don’t use the word ‘frenulum.’ Ever. Not that anything said in that voice of yours isn’t sexy, but it’s sort of blocking the visual I’m trying to paint in my head.”

I frowned. Last time we’d had phone sex he took the lead. This was harder than I’d thought.

“Okay, well, it says I should take my time and explore that little notch on the bottom side. For example, I thought I might start by running my tongue all the way around, make sure I have a feel for the layout before doing anything else.”

“That’ll work,” he said, his voice lowering.

“I have a theory,” I said. “According to my book, some men prefer it when a woman sort of points her tongue and just uses the tip. Others like it when you really spread the tongue out, and rub the cock’s underside as you pull the head into your mouth.”

He cleared his throat roughly.

“Yeah, that’d be okay.”

I thought I heard the sound of his pants unzipping. I hoped to hell I was right, because otherwise I might feel sheepish about the way my hand was sliding down into my sleep shorts.

“So here’s my theory,” I continued. “The book says the best way to find out is to just ask, and I can appreciate the efficiency in that. But I also think it would be really fun to experiment and decide for myself. You know, like a randomized series of tests so I can gather lots of data?”

“You’re going to kill me,” he grunted. “Less data, babe. More licking.”

“Just a sec. I’m gonna grab my vibrator before I keep going.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s the general idea.”

I rolled over and dug out my trusty magic bullet, turning it on low. Not too much . . . not at first.

“So I’m a little worried about how big you are,” I said. “The book tells me I might want to consider licking you all over, until you’re good and wet. Then I’ll wrap my hand around the bottom so you can’t accidentally go too deep. Think that might work?”

“Can’t hurt to give it a shot,” he muttered. “Fuck. I love your voice, babe. You using that vibrator yet?”

“Uh-huh . . .” I whispered. “I’m just laying it against my clit right now, letting it sort of warm me up. I’m imagining what it’ll feel like the first time I taste you. I’m a little nervous, so before I take you in my mouth, I’m going to explore that little slit at the top, okay? You know, try out some of your precome? I figure a little taste is just what I need to get a sense of how it’ll be. Not sure if I want to swallow or not.”

“Babe, I don’t give a shit if you swallow,” he said, his voice strained. “Just don’t stop talking.”

I laughed, feeling powerful.

“I think I’ll turn up my vibrator a little now. I’m rubbing it up and down, first on my clit and then along my labia. I feel really empty, though. I wish you were here, Hunter. I’ll never forget how it felt when you first pushed into me. It hurt a little, but it was great, too. You know I’m still a little sore?”

“I’ve never felt anything as good as your cunt around my dick, and that is the f**kin’ truth.”

“The good news is you’ll feel it again soon. In fact, I wish you were feeling it right now.”

“Why don’t you slide a finger inside, check and see how things are going?” he asked. I propped the phone on my pillow next to my ear and then reached down to follow his instructions.

“Well, for one thing, I’m pretty wet already,” I murmured, closing my eyes. “I guess the thought of sucking you off turns me on. Does that make me a slut?”

“Only in the nicest possible sense of the word. Can you hear me jacking off? Because I swear, I’m pumping so hard it sounds like a freight train in here.”

Oh shit. That went straight to my center. I stuck another finger in, reaching for my G-spot. As usual, I couldn’t quite get there.

Fortunately, my vibrator was available to compensate.

“I feel tingles and pressure running all down my body,” I said. “I’m not there yet, but I will be there soon. I want your weight on top of me—”

I gasped, because the vibrator found a particularly sensitive spot. I felt my muscles tighten and my hips jerked.

“I’m getting close, Hunter.”

“Liam,” he muttered. “Call me Liam. Fuck, I want to be inside you. Shit. Oh, f**k . . .”

“Liam,” I gasped as my back arched. “Holy shit. I can’t wait to do this in person.”

He groaned in my ear, the sound harsh and tight.

“I’m coming,” he said. “Fuck. Fuck.”

He grunted into the phone. I imagined his hand on his cock, the sight of his come squirting out. I started pumping my fingers in and out harder, pretending they were his. My clit tightened, every muscle clenched, and then my hips lifted off the bed as I exploded.

“Ahhh . . .” I lay still, panting into the phone.

It took a couple minutes to recover.

“You’re pretty good at phone sex,” he said after a while, his voice low and growly.

“Thanks,” I whispered. “I miss you.”

“Miss you, too. I’m sorry, babe, but I’m really f**kin’ tired, and blowing my wad just now didn’t help.”

“Go to sleep. I’ll still be in Portland when you get back. Promise.”

WEDNESDAY MORNING

HUNTER: I feel like shit telling you this, but I’m down in Cali again. Thought I’d make it today but had some business come up

ME: Its okay. I understand :(

That evening I watched nervously as Cookie slammed dishes around the kitchen. I wanted to offer to help, but I was a little scared of her. She’d been muttering about men, control, and how much she needed to get back to work.

I understood her frustration.

So far as I could tell, there was a whole lot of nothing going on. Deke wouldn’t tell us anything, but Kit had been listening at doors back home. According to her, the Reapers were divided over who to blame for the shootings. Quite a few thought it was the cartel down south, but they couldn’t rule out the Jacks, either.

So far they hadn’t found any real evidence to prove who was behind the attacks. Until they could, a lot of questions would remain unanswered, and the Jacks would be suspect. Had Hunter’s club broken the truce? Should we start hitting back?

Nobody knew.

In the meantime, Deke wouldn’t let Cookie go to her shop. He wouldn’t let me go to work, either, which wasn’t such a big deal because I’d just been picking up shifts as needed. But she could tell things were falling apart without her, and Deke didn’t even seem to care.

On the bright side, the guys were back in their clubhouse, which meant the house wasn’t full of bikers anymore. The water damage still needed to be fixed, but apparently it was workable. That was a big relief. Cookie didn’t want her house to be a target, and even Deke had to acknowledge she had a point.