Jase (15 page)

“DeeDee, it’s him again. I’m not putting up with this asshole one more time.” The woman’s shrill voice cut through the background music like a blade. “It isn’t enough he talks about what he’s thinking the whole time he jerks off in his pants, but then he tries to touch my ass with his goddamned spunky fingers.”

Her voice smooth and even, DeeDee walked over, looking down at the man on the floor as she spoke. “Brent. You’re banned.” He looked like he was going to answer
her,
but she cut him off. “
Nuh-uh
, nope. No talking. No mouth. You’re a level of sleaze we got no need for.” She looked up and glanced around at the attentive faces in the bar, then back down at him. “Do I need to recruit help to deal with you, or can I have Mercy let you up nice-like?”

“I’m sorry,” the man ground out, wincing and yelling as the dancer applied more pressure with her heel. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Well…yeah, we’re in agreement that you’re
a sorry
asshole. But that doesn’t matter, because you’re still banned. You’ll have to talk to Slate to get back in, so keep that in mind.” She made a gesture to Mercy, who somewhat reluctantly moved off the chair, picking it up and placing it beside a nearby table. Sauntering back to the main stage, she turned, hiking her ass up onto the platform, performing a fluid twist and roll move that put her into position against the pole.

Jase watched as DeeDee escorted the man to the door, closing it behind him with a firm thud. None of the other men in the room had moved to help her, not even the big bouncer standing near the door, and he realized with a start he hadn’t either. She was so confident in herself that everyone seemed to assume she knew what she was doing and could manage just fine.

He walked to the bar, seeing his drink still sitting where he left it, ice melting and watering the liquor down. The music rose in volume and he looked up to see Mercy gyrating around the pole, evidently
picking up
her routine from where she had been interrupted. DeeDee was coming towards him and he smiled at her. He said, “You’re busy. I can see that. I know I dropped in out of the blue. Baby, I’m going to go line up a place to stay for a few days. Give me your number so I can call you. I’d like to take you to dinner tonight. Please?”

She dug into her front pocket, pulling out a small leather wallet. Retrieving a card from inside, she asked the bartender for a pen and wrote on the back. “Here,” she said quietly, handing it to him. “Jase, dinner would be nice.” The logo for the club was on the front, with her name listed as manager. He flipped it over, seeing she had written her first name and a ten-digit number.

He tucked it into his pocket and reached for her hand. Threading his fingers through hers, he lifted it to his mouth, softly kissing the backs of her knuckles. “I’ll see you in a bit. Decide where you’d like to go eat, okay?”
She nodded and he turned to walk towards the outside door. He pretended to forget to let go of her hand and drew a laugh from her when he spun in an exaggerated fashion, whirling back to press a quick, soft kiss on her lips.
“See
ya
,” he whispered, and left.

Three hours later, he was settled into a downtown hotel, showered and waiting anxiously. Before checking in, he first rode around the Coliseum arena where they played hockey, then past the Rebel clubhouse, making sure he would be able to find it again if needed.
He texted her the room
information,
but hadn’t gotten a response. It didn’t worry him, because she was working.
Yet.
Didn’t worry him yet.

Pacing the perimeter of the hotel room, he was checking his watch every few minutes, trying hard to wait until at least five o’clock to call DeeDee. He knew most people worked from eight to five, so waiting until five seemed to be the courteous thing to do. He checked the time again.
Another five minutes more, and I’ll be hearing her voice again.

There was a tentative knock at the door, a single light rap of knuckles on the wood, and he looked at it, an eager question in his mind.
What if she decided to just show up instead of responding to my text?
he thought.

A second knock had him moving, looking through the peephole to find one of the hotel’s housekeeping staff standing there. Disappointed, he opened the door and she looked him down, then up, wordlessly holding out a piece of paper. He accepted it and she turned, walking quickly away, casting a smile and an appreciative glance over her shoulder at him.

Shaking his head at the odd encounter, he backed into his room, unfolding the paper as he kicked the door closed. In about two seconds, he wished he had kicked the door a hell of a lot harder.
Can’t make it, sorry. It was good to see you today. Be safe, ~DD

“Fucking hell,” he yelled, punching the door with a rattling force. He dug in his pocket for the card, pulled out his phone, and angrily punched in the numbers she willingly wrote down only a few hours ago. After only a single ring, the call went straight to what he assumed was DeeDee’s
voicemail,
but was just a robotic voice repeating the phone number he had dialed. “Goddamn,
mother
fucking
,
cock
sucking
, son of a
bitch
,” he hissed, punching the door again as he disconnected.

He grabbed his jacket and hit the door at a run. Unwilling to wait
for
the elevator, he headed for the stairs, going down them two and three at a time in his haste. In the adjacent parking garage, he straddled the bike, roughly shoving in the key, twisting it, and hitting the start button firmly. Closing his eyes, he forced himself to sit for a minute, bringing his anger under control.
No way in fucking hell is she going to get out of seeing me tonight.

He had been through this before
when
she agreed to wait for him and
then bailed; she had cut and run before he could get back to her
. When it happened at the end of hockey season, it had hurt, but he let it go due to circumstances on both sides. He knew her dealings with the Rebels and his obligations with the team had both conspired against them. But not tonight, it wasn’t happening again. Not after how they connected today in her office. There was something between them, and
he
…needed her. He wouldn’t let her run this time, not again...not ever again.
No fucking way.

Pulling out of the garage, he headed north towards
Slinky’s,
but when he rode into the club’s lot, he wasn’t surprised her bike was no longer there. Running inside for a minute, he found out from Gunny that she left not long after he had this afternoon. Remembering what Hoss had said at the party about her getting cold feet, he knew taking off early had only given her that much more time to let her nerves get the better of her.
Fuck me and my waiting until five o’clock; she was long gone by then.
Sitting for a minute, he cast his mind around what little he knew of Fort Wayne, deciding to take a turn past the Rebel
clubhouse
so he could see if her bike was there.

He slowed to a crawl when he rode past the building, but her distinctive bike was nowhere to be seen. He did recognize Birdy walking into the clubhouse, which surprised him. Circling the block, he headed back east on Main Street, deciding to return to the hotel to find the housekeeper and make sure it was DeeDee who had given her the note. He was mentally making plans when he saw both the bike and woman,
that frustrating woman
, going the other way. Making a U-turn, he quickly caught up to her, seeing her startled reflection in the mirrors as she watched him fall into formation to the side and slightly behind her bike.

When she turned into the clubhouse, he rode in behind her as if he had every right, ignoring the scrutiny from the man holding the gate open. She parked her bike and sat there for a minute, shaking her head as she took off her helmet. Glancing up at him, she offered a trembling smile, looking as if she was going to burst into tears any moment, her face ashen. He walked over, captured her chin in his palm, and tipped her head up so she faced him.

They stared at each other for a long time, and he sighed at the look on her face. Those dark blue eyes met his gaze, raw fear leaving her vulnerable and open. Her hair barely tamed into pigtails, there were loose tendrils trailing along her cheeks,
dark
red against the smooth, creamy skin. His memory painted the picture of her naked body beneath him, muscles shifting as she pulled at his shoulders, wanting to be even closer.

He broke the silence, quietly saying, “Don’t be afraid of me. Never
be afraid
. I’m not pissed. I just want to talk, DeeDee. If
dinner
seems like too much, then we just talk. But I need you to
tell me what’s going on in your head
, okay? We don’t even have to go to my hotel. We can go to your place. Whatever you want
, wherever you’re comfortable, all right?
” He shook his head. “You’re in charge. I know it’s been a long time since we were together in Chicago, but
all I have to do
is think of you and suddenly, it’s harder to breathe. There’s something between us I’ve never had, the potential for something here I’m not willing to walk away from.” His voice hoarsened. “You tell me to walk away right now, and I don’t even know if I can. But…if you want me to, I’ll…try. You’re in charge, baby, but I want to…need to talk this through.”

She laughed
on
a sob, covering her mouth with one hand and gestured behind her at the building. “This
is
my place.”

He looked around, shocked. “You live at the clubhouse?” He knew from listening to the men in Chicago how crazy things could be in the house on
an average
night; forget about parties and weekends.
Is this what she didn’t want me finding out? Has she been forced into some weird arrangement?

Nodding, she said, “When Winger died, they gave me a suite. My daughter Melanie and I live here.”

He sighed, relieved his sudden fears were ungrounded. Now he felt stupid, because he knew from experience how
protective
the
club members acted when she was around, and that alone
should have told him the same thing. “Can we talk?”

Standing, she climbed off the bike, absently patting the fuel tank, and nodded at him. “Just talk.”

***

The next
morning, Jase stretched lazily in bed, running his palm up and down DeeDee’s naked back, slowly stroking her skin. He tucked his body in alongside hers, rocking his hips to brush his erection against her thigh and ass, continuing to touch her softly with his hand. There was soft music playing from speakers on her dresser, and he pressed his lips against her shoulder with a smile. Humming, he found his place in the song and then softly sang a few lines of
Hey
Darlin’
Do You Gamble
along with Ben Nichols from Lucero.

She rolled and pulled away from him slightly. “You’re good,” she said, smiling. “You have a good voice.” Leaning in to kiss the tip of his nose, she slid her hands over his arms, drawing herself closer again.

“Pfffftt.” He blew
air
through his teeth in a dismissive noise. “Receptive and affectionate audiences make concessions and excuses to cover a lack of talent.” He laughed, closing his eyes to better focus on the heat building inside him from her touch. “Or something like that. What the hell did I just say?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered, her lips against his neck. “I wasn’t listening anymore.”

He gasped when her fingers wrapped around his cock. She stroked slowly up and over the crown and gave her hand a twist before sliding back down to the base. Every time they came together, it seemed she knew more of what he liked…wanted. He shivered, feeling himself lengthen and thicken as every nerve ending in his body came alive under her attention. Eyes still closed, he groaned and jerked involuntarily when her other hand cupped his balls, lifting and rolling them gently in her fingers.

He murmured, “Tighter. God, please, tighter. I won’t break.” Feeling her grip firm, he arched into her hands, thrusting as muscles tensed over his entire body. “Baby,” he said softly, encouraging her. “Yeah, just like that, baby. God, that feels good.” He took a breath. “You’ve got three minutes to make me come, or I’m back
inside
you.”

She chuckled and he peeled one eye open to look at her when she asked him, “Is that supposed to be a threat? Because if it is, I don’t think threats mean the same thing to you and me.”

“That’s a promise, baby. Not a threat. A pleasure
promise
.” He thrust in her hands again, feeling the climbing tingles up his spine. Reaching over, he pulled a condom from the bedside table and
handed
it to her. “I can’t wait. Nope, cannot wait. Now, God—I want to be inside you now. I need to feel you around me again.”

Eyes closed, he listened to the foil wrapper tear open, and then groaned when her hot mouth surrounded the head then began engulfing him. It nearly broke his control when she took him to the back of her throat, the flat of her tongue pressing and rubbing on the underside of his cock, teasing the frenulum. Pulling off him with an audible pop, with firm strokes of her hand, she slowly rolled the condom down over his length, the heat from her palm blazingly hot as she moved it along his shaft.

Rolling over, he settled himself between her thighs, cradled by her hips as he
ground
into her clit, drawing a quiet moan from her. “You’re always so
quiet
, baby.” He nuzzled his nose along her ear, kissing her cheek as his hips moved in slow circles, dropping the tip of his cock ever lower and closer to her entrance. “Is this good for you? You have to tell me; talk to me, baby.”

“Mmmm hmm,” she made a
soft,
agreeable noise, tilting her head
backwards
into the pillow. Her hips shifted and he was
there
, inch-by-inch, sliding inside her again, feeling her inner walls grip and pull at him. “Mmmm, Jase,” she crooned alongside his ear, cheek-to-cheek as he slipped his arms underneath her, holding her to him tightly.