Harm's Way: Riot MC Biloxi by Karen Renee (best e book reader .TXT) 📕

“Want to know why you signed an entire paycheck over to Jenkins the first night I saw you again.”

Pulling her close had been the right call. She stiffened and shoved against his arm to get away.

“Stephie, I’m not judging. You did what you did. I want to know why, because a brick through a window? It’s the move of someone who’s desperate... unless it’s a teenager with nothing better to do or no better sense about what they do.”

She relaxed slightly.

In a gentle tone, he added, “You told me what that douchebag did to you. So, if you were trying to double your money the best way you could, I get it. Hell, if it hadn’t been for me, you’d probably have come out ahead that night.”

She sighed.

He let the quiet go for some time before he stroked her back. “All right. You don’t want to talk—”

“He doesn’t know where I am.”

He looked down at her, but her eyes were glued to his chest. “Okay.”

She looked up at him. “I mean, he never met Suzy or Mom. For some damn reason I never introduced him and he never asked about my parents. As far as I know, he didn’t know I had family around.”

Har found that fishy, but let it go. “All right, honey, but what are you—”

“I’m saying, once he got what he could out of me, Wycliffe or whatever-the-fuck-his-name-is was done with me.”

He nodded and felt the bed shake because of it. “And you didn’t leave Jacksonville until well over two years after he stole from you.”

“Right,” she whispered.

“Then why a whole paycheck to Jenkins?”

She inhaled but he heard her breath catch. “I wanted to get ahead. It’s weird, but I’ve watched several dealers do well in the World Series of Poker and on the World Poker Tour. When I first started dealing, I didn’t understand how a dealer-turned-player had any advantage, but more and more I get it. When I’m dealing I don’t have skin in the game, I can sit back and watch everyone at the table. And better than that, I’m not some schmoe at a party who wants to try their hand at commentating on the flop or what someone’s big bet might or might not represent. That shit is frowned upon at work. So I have time to get reads on people, which is much harder to do when you’re in a hand. You’re wrapped up in your cards, what cards you need to see fall or not fall. It’s crazy but I knew I had an advantage from my day job.”

He nodded again. “But had you played a game like Jenkins runs here in town, or that was your first?”

Her finger traced the edge of his shirt sleeve. “My first.”

His eyes focused on the headboard as he thought about who might have pulled a stunt like this.

Her hands pushed on his arms. “You can let me go now.”

He smiled. “You’re right, but there’s one problem.”

She squinted at him. “There is?”

“Yeah. I don’t feel like it.”

Her lips pursed but he could tell she was holding back a smile. Then her head tipped back and she burst out laughing.

The thin column of her neck begged for him to kiss it. He dragged his lips from just under her jaw down to the base of her neck where he sucked hard. She tasted so damn good, but hearing her laughter give way to a gasp went straight to his cock.

Chapter 12 Roommates with Benefits

Stephanie

OH GOD, HIS LIPS ON my neck felt so good! The slight pain of him sucking on my neck registered and I tried pulling away.

“Har, I cannot go to work with a hickey on my neck.”

“You got it wrong, Combes,” he murmured against my collar bone.

“So did you, Michael.”

He chuckled. “Wasn’t talking about my name that time. You’re wrong, you can go to work with a hickey. Let every fucking bastard know someone’s claimed your ass.”

I narrowed my eyes. “But you’re not claiming me.”

He raised his head. The sincerity in his eyes hit me hard.

“Maybe I am.”

My head tilted. “Which leaves room for ‘maybe you’re not.’”

He rolled and pinned me to the bed. “Don’t do that shit, Stephie. You’re better than that. I know two things. I don’t want you moving and I can’t stop thinking about you.”

I felt my eyebrows scrunching even though I didn’t want to give anything away. It blew my mind that he couldn’t stop thinking about me.

“You like drivin’ my truck?”

His subject change threw me. “Uh, what?”

He grinned and ran his nose along my neck. “You heard me,” he murmured into my chest.

“It was a one-off since my bike is fully functional again.”

His head rose again, but his hair fell in his face so I slid the strands out of his eyes. The shift in his expression made my belly dip and warmth filled my chest. I thought he would kiss me, but he stayed focused.

“Don’t like you being on a bike, Steph.”

“Not a fan of being told what to do, Har.”

His arms tightened around me and he rolled so quick I thought we’d tumble off the bed. Then he smacked my ass harder than he had in the living room, making me gasp and my sex throb.

“Hey! What was that for?”

His eyes danced while his hand rubbed where he smacked me. “I’m gonna tell you what I think. Doesn’t mean I’m telling you what to do, woman.”

I shook my head. “Well, I’m not getting rid of my bike. The weather here isn’t that different than in Florida. I can survive riding in the rain.”

“More tourists here than in Jacksonville, babe. And that makes it more dangerous.”

I couldn’t argue his point, so I didn’t.

“Which is why you’re in my truck when there’s weather.”

I shot a dirty look at the dark oak headboard. A thought hit me and I looked back to him. “And what will you do when there’s weather?”

He moved one shoulder in an attempt at