Read Bane: Elite Operatives (Bad Boys of X-Ops Book 4) Online
Authors: Rie Warren
Bane: Elite Operatives (Bad Boys of X-Ops Book 4) (21 page)
That got big guffaws all around and drew JB’s large inky eyes to me.
“What about Sexton?” Cole pulled his hand back, making sure all the skin was intact.
“You’d have to ask the ladies about any sexin’ . . . ”
MC dudes converged on me with back slaps, but JB spun on her heels with a huff. In an apparent outrage, she marched to the far reaches of the clubhouse.
I had to follow up on that. Usually I liked my liaisons jealousy-free, but considering I’d already imagined putting bullet holes in just about every man in the room for so much as looking at her, I’d give her a free pass to get all green-eyed about me anytime she wanted.
When I made my way to the darts, JB ignored me; her head high and those amazing brown curls tossed back.
I stood in front of the bull’s-eye.
She stomped around me to retrieve her darts.
I blocked the way again, lightly touching her arm. “There a problem?”
“I’m not easy, if that’s what you’re after.”
“That’s not a problem.”
With a stamp of her foot, she went back to the throw-line. I’d barely stepped out of the way before she let rip with a dart that whistled past my ear. “I don’t fuck around, either.”
“Even better.” I grinned at the spitfire.
“What she means to say is
BTDT
. The T-shirt was not that awesome.” Rayce—the wrench shrew from Stone’s garage—intervened. She was JB’s fake dyke girlfriend from earlier and apparently a bulldog on a mission to put me in my place.
“No need to go rabid on me. I’ll step off.” Almost relieved by her interruption, I backed up with my hands raised. I needed a reason to stop pursuing JB anyway. “For the record, I’d never harm your friend, but I’m glad you’re looking out for her.”
An hour later, I slid onto my motorcycle. Helmet in hand, I ramped the Deus Grievous Angel to life.
JB materialized next to me, huddling inside her padded leather jacket. “Sorry about before. Rayce has issues.”
“And where’s your bodyguard now?”
“I don’t need one.” She unfolded her arms, and her jacket gaped open at her chest. She took my helmet from my hands and slung it onto the handlebar.
“Beg to differ.” She definitely needed protection from me.
JB made the first move, I’d testify to that shit in court. She leaned over me and licked her lips. Then my hands were in her hair, burrowing deeper, and I dragged her to my mouth. She straddled me when I lifted her onto my lap. The moist touch of her tongue parted my lips.
I groaned, opening up to her talented lunges, following the sleek kisses into her mouth where our tongues collided. I wanted to thrust down her throat with my cock. Rip her pants apart and fuck her until she screamed. Take her on my motorcycle and spray my come all over her body. The intensity of my reaction steered all coherent thought from my head.
The soul-searing kiss lit me up inside. I wanted more.
Bad move. One of my worst. I’d regret it later. Right now I’d savor the way JB moaned, riding my thigh, getting off on me.
I wanted to have this for one more minute.
I wanted her.
I couldn’t have her. I shouldn’t stain her. My soul wasn’t even intact.
With a growl, I pushed her off me. I steadied her with a hand on her hip as she found her footing.
“What’s
your
problem?” JB frowned, her lips swollen from my kisses.
“I can’t. Not with you. Not like this.” I wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“Damn right you can’t. I’m too good for you.” She zipped her jacket all the way to the chin.
Nothing hotter than a woman with an attitude who knew what she wanted, but I couldn’t take advantage.
“Exactly.” I throttled my raging black bike, shouting over the roar of pipes, “We agree. Never gonna happen.”
Peeling out of the parking lot, I glanced back one last time. Big mistake. JB stood under the halo of a streetlight with one stiff middle finger raised in my direction. And I wanted her even more.
Not gonna happen.
Only one good thing had come out of my life, and I had nothing left to giv
e
.
X-Ops is done, y’all! Like I promised you—fast books, badass plots, kick-it-into-high-gear alpha men.
Walker, Justice, Storm, Bane.
Jade. Tilly, Blaize, Kiki.
A dark-ops team of awesome.
So now I regroup, after I give my many, many thanks.
I mean, obviously—Gilly Wright!
Whaaaat
? My editor-at-large and keeper of all Rie secrets. Joelle Mendes is the other guardian of my sanity as well as my very much loved PA. Two women I could not do without.
And to add another few: Christine Cox, April Gasaway, Lisa Pinney. Bodacious beta readers who talk me up, talk me down, and throw the book love around.
Thanks to all readers, reviewers, bloggers who have followed this journey. To my street team and friends I have nothing but hardcore love. Speaking of: Laura Crawford chose Bane’s
hot, hot, hot
motorcycle, Lisa Pinney sent me the pic for Blaize’s wedding dress (and I will be posting on my page), and Brandi Nicole Chiles was all
rawr
about Bane’s big, mofo truck. Cheers, ladies!
I believe the next book in my Carolina Bad Boys series is next! All about Handsome. After that? Surprises. You’ll get the most news on my FB page or through my newsletter.
XOXO~
Rie is the badass, sassafras author of
Sugar Daddy
and the
Don’t Tell
series—a breakthrough trilogy that crossed traditional publishing boundaries beginning with
In His Command
. Her latest endeavors include the
Carolina Bad Boys
, a fun, hot, and southern-sexy series.
A Yankee transplant who has traveled the world, Rie started out a writer—causing her college professor to blush over her erotic poetry without one ounce of shame. Not much has changed. She swapped pen for paintbrushes and followed her other love during her twenties. From art school to marriage to children and many a wild and wonderful journey in between, Rie has come home to her calling. Her work has been called
edgy
,
daring
, and
some of the sexiest smut around
.
You can connect with Rie via the social media hangouts listed on her website
http://www.riewarren.com
.