Silver and Chrome: A Bad Boy MC Romance (17 page)

The
corner of Sebastian’s mouth turns up slightly. “Executive assistant. Not MC assistant.”
He touches my hand in return. “I don’t know… I can’t ask you to—”

“You’re
not asking,” I say. “Let me help. I can be pretty resourceful. Maybe there’s
something I can do. Even if it’s just… even if all it means is that you have
someone to talk to about things. Sometimes that’s enough. But I’d like to do
more.”

Sebastian’s
hand closes on mine, engulfing my palm. He nods, and a rush of warmth whispers
through me.

“Okay.
Fine. You’re right. If nothing else, it will be helpful for someone else to
know everything so that I have at least one person I don’t have to worry about
keeping my story straight with. It’s hell trying to remember who knows what,
which is why I generally try to keep as much to myself as possible.”

I
nod. “I get it. So, where should we start?”

Sebastian
purses his lips before stepping back, his fingers lingering for a moment before
letting go. His gaze travels up and down the length of my body, almost causing
a shiver to run up my spine and reminding me that we still haven’t really
discussed the kiss and what, if anything, it means.

“We
need to get you some new clothes,” he says.

“What?”
I look down at my suit. This thing cost Edward a fortune. The one thing I kept
from our relationship was the wardrobe he bought for me. He said he wanted his
assistant to be dressed as well as he was, and as much as I think he was a
complete ass, the one thing he knew how to do was dress well. “What’s wrong
with what I’m wearing?”

“For
here at the office? Nothing. But if you want to be part of the rest of my
world, you’re going to need to fit in there. And this… “He gestures up and down
at my clothes. “…won’t do at all.”

“Wait,
so I’m allowed to come to the club now?”

“Best
way for you to understand both worlds are to experience them. You’ve seen those
guys as an outsider, but now it’s time you go undercover. I already told them
you were my ol’ lady. Time to act the part. You’ll come with me after work
tonight.”

“Okay,”
I say, a smile creeping up on my lips. We could discuss him calling me an old
lady later. “So, what does that mean exactly? What kind of clothes do I need to
wear?”

Sebastian’s
lips quirk in a devilish, though subdued, smile. Mostly I can see the mirth in
his eyes, which despite their darkness, seem to twinkle in a way that reminds
me of Bash, rather than his corporate counterpart.

 “What
it means is that you need to slut it up a bit and show a lot more skin…”

CHAPTER
EIGHTEEN

BASH

I wasn't sure what to
expect when I told Eve to slut it up. For a second, I almost thought she might
slap me again, with the look she gave me. But then she just smiled and said
okay, and that I should pick her up from home when I was ready to head to the
club. She needed time to go shopping and change.

She
didn’t disappoint.

When
she opened the door, I had a hard time keeping my mouth closed. Aside from the
couple of times we've fucked, I’m pretty accustomed to seeing my assistant
covered up. She tends to wear power suits to the office, and even that first
night at the club, she was wearing what I would describe as business casual. The
second time I saw her she was in sweats and an old t-shirt, and after that, she
was in jeans and blouse. Modesty seemed to be her thing.

Now,
though, she took the request to slut it up pretty damn literally. The top she’s
wearing is barely containing her sizable tits, leaving her flat belly
completely exposed. Below that, she’s wearing a red, faux leather skirt. I’m
not sure exactly what it’s made of, but it’s tight and it’s short. And then, to
top it off, she’s wearing what I like to call “fuck me” boots. They’re black,
shiny, and extend all the way up to her knees.

“Holy
crap,” I say without thinking. A smile spreads across her gorgeous face,
although I barely notice as that’s the last stop my eyes make. She’s wearing
more makeup than normal, as well—a lot of eyeliner and red lipstick that not
only matches her skirt, but seems to make her lips look fuller and plumper. I
immediately think back to how they felt around my cock that first time we met,
and I’m tempted to not bother going to the club at all and trying to see if I
can talk her into a repeat performance.

“So,
this was what you had in mind?”

“Better,”
I reply, reaching out to touch the side of her stomach. She swats my hand away with
a laugh.

“I
thought I was supposed to be your pretend girlfriend, and we were going to the
club to meet your friends. We don’t have to start the act until we get there.”

I
raise my eyebrow at her. Does she really expect me to keep my hands off of her
when she’s looking like this? We did kiss the other day, and although I was
planning on pretending like it never happened, she clearly wanted to talk about
it earlier, which means she hasn’t put it out of her mind. But fine. If she
wants to wait until people are watching before she lets me touch her, we can
play that game.

“Then
let’s not waste time getting there,” I say, stepping out of the way so she can
exit her apartment and lock her door. “And don’t refer to yourself as my
girlfriend, if you want to fit in. That’s civilian talk. You’re my ol’ lady.”

“What
the hell is an old lady?” Her nose is cute when she wrinkles it in disgust. “That
sounds demeaning.”

“Welcome
to the world of the MC. Better get used to it if you want to hang with this
crew.” I turn and walk toward the elevator, leading her down to my bike,
ignoring the little snort she makes behind me.

The trip to the club took
longer than expected, since Eve had never ridden on a bike before. She was
tentative at first, and didn’t even know how to get on or sit properly. Then
once we finally started moving, she held on to me so tightly that I could
barely breathe or maneuver enough to properly turn. But after about ten minutes,
she began to relax. The rumbling between her legs probably helped with that. Most
women I’ve taken for rides claim that’s the best part.

“How’d
you like that?” I ask after she takes off her helmet and shakes out her long, dirty-blonde
hair. She’s wearing it down today, and it looks fabulous even after having a
helmet over it for twenty minutes.

“Intense,”
she says, wiggling her hips a bit. Fuck, everything she does turns me on. I’m
not sure how realistic the idea of having her around me all the time while not
screwing the hell out of her is. She’s convinced me to let her into this world,
but how many of my own rules am I going to break for this woman?

Inside,
the bar isn't very busy, which is typical for a Monday night. But what it lacks
in actual customers, it makes up for in Soldiers. There are at least a dozen of
our crew scattered around, most of them centered on the corner with the pool
table where they usually hang out. I guide Evelyn over to them and introduce
her as Eve to the men that haven’t met her yet. Ripper is noticeably absent,
but that’s more of a relief. I don’t need to deal with his shit tonight.

Most
of them have a pretty hard time keeping their eyes off of her many exposed body
parts, and I’m surprised at how much that annoys me. Staring at pretty women is
second nature to these guys—to me, as well, so it’s not like I should have
expected any different.

Even
more surprising is how well Eve is taking it. She seems to be drinking in the
attention, and laughing at the coarse remarks just as well as Jez ever did. Then
I remember what she said to Snake on Saturday. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised,
after all.

A
quick glance at my VP tells me he hasn’t forgotten, either. He’s staring at her
lips, probably imagining what they would feel like wrapped around his own cock.
With the way she's got them painted, who can blame him. But it still pisses me
off, so I decide to step away for a moment and collect myself before I say or
do something that will seem out of character. After all, I’ve never cared
before when any of these guys hit on any of the girls I’ve slept with, so I
shouldn’t start now.

Then
again, I’ve also never introduced any of them as my ol’ lady.

“I’m
getting a drink. You want to come and get one too?”

“No,
but you can bring me back a beer,” Eve says, barely turning to look at me. “I’m
just getting to know the club here. They might miss me if I leave so soon.”

“Hell
yeah, we would,” growls Maximus. He’s a big man, whose appetite for pussy is
almost as big as his appetite for food. I shoot him a glare that he totally doesn’t
see, his eyes far too distracted by Eve’s ass. I really need that drink.

“Fine,
just watch yourself with these bunch. Some of them don't know how to keep their
hands to themselves. But they better learn pretty quick.” I direct this last
comment at Maximus, who is already touching Eve’s waist and I can see his
fingers starting to drift toward the ass he’d been eyeing. He pulls away and
looks at me with a guilty grin that I can barely see behind his big, dark
beard.

“I’m
not sharing this one, boys,” I remind them one last time before striding over
to the bar. I better not leave her alone too long. Eve has more confidence than
she should with this group, although I do appreciate the effort to fit in. She’s
doing a much better job at it than I expected.

I
watch from the bar as I wait for my beers, but even once I get them, I don’t
hurry back. Eve is holding her own with these guys more so than I’ve ever seen a
woman manage before. Every one of them is part of the group talking to her,
their pool game abandoned, and shouts of laughter coming from each as they
talk. There are still a lot of roving eyes, and I can see at least one of the
Soldiers whose hands are hovering around her ass as he likely weighs the pros
and cons between copping a feel and potentially answering to me for it later.

She’s
fitting in with the crew much easier than I thought she would, which makes me contemplate
another positive to this whole arrangement that I hadn’t considered before. Sure,
it’s definitely going to help having someone that I can talk to and that can
ease the burden of my double life from an abstract point of view, but maybe she
can help more concretely as well. Her value as an EA at Piston is clear, but I
didn’t think about her value on this side of the equation.

Maybe
she can be a second set of eyes. Maybe I’m too close, which is why I haven’t
been able to root out the real instigators against me from the ones that are
just unhappy with change. If Eve gets friendly enough with these guys, maybe
she’ll be able to spot something I’ve missed. Maybe she’ll be able to identify
who it is leading the hidden charge against me.

Watching
her talk with the guys, flirt with them, make them laugh, it stirs a feeling
inside of me that is foreign and takes a few moments to identify. Once I do, I
can’t deny the truth of it, regardless of how annoying the feeling is. I’m
jealous.

“Here’s
your beer,” I interrupt, thrusting it at Eve with a bit more force than is
necessary. She doesn’t even notice. She just takes it and continues talking to
Zane, her hand resting lightly on the leather cuff of his jacket. I’m sure she
means it innocently, or at least, as harmless flirtation, but Zane’s eyes keep
drifting down to it as they speak. He is obviously reading it as more.

“Found
yourself a winner here,” says Maximus. He takes another swig of his beer and
some of it dribbles down his beard and onto his shirt. As usual, he’s already
well on his way to being three sheets to the wind. “No wonder you haven’t been
around much lately. Fuck, if Eve here was my ol’ lady, I probably would never
bring her around this bunch.”

“Yeah,
you’re right. Introducing her to you fucks was probably a mistake.” I say it
with a smile, but there’s a gruffness in my voice that Eve notices and she
gives me a look, her hand slipping off of Zane’s wrist.

“Zane
here was just telling me about some modifications he’s made to his motorcycle that
he wanted to show me. I’m not sure how good of an audience I would be for that,
though, since I don’t know a lot about bikes.”

“Oh,
was he, now?” I shoot a glare at Zane, which he doesn’t seem to notice. I have
a pretty good idea what kind of parts he might have added to his hog, and
seeing that right now would probably throw this night into fucking chaos. “Well
you might have to take a rain check on that. I want to show you the rest of the
club.”

“Haha,
didn't you already give her the private tour of your office last week?” laughs
Snake. “Don’t be fooled, Eve. Bash just wants another piece of that hot ass of
yours.”

I
laugh, but he’s not entirely wrong. Seeing Eve flirt with all of these guys is
making me want to drag her to the back and mark her as if I’m an animal staking
my claim. What the hell has gotten into me? We’re supposed to just be
pretending to date. She isn’t really mine. She doesn’t want to date her boss
again, and I was stupid enough to take on that role.

“There’s
more than just my office back there,” I counter, feeling more defensive than I
should. “That’s just the only thing that Eve got to see last time.”

“Yeah,
and even then it was probably just a close-up view of the top of your desk,
right?” All the guys laugh this time, and although I feel my fist clench, Eve
joins in.

“Come
to think of it, you're right. I did get a very good view of that. But I’m
always up for taking a second look, if that’s what Bash wants to show me.” She
slips her arm through mine, giving it a squeeze. “It’s been fun, boys, but my
man wants some alone time, and I’m sure you all know what that means. We’ll try
to keep it down, though. Wouldn’t want this little meeting of yours to turn
into a circle jerk…”

My
eyes widen, but all the guys throw their heads back and laugh raucously. Eve
continues to amaze me.