The door shook with a heavy blow and Banks shouted outside. “Dawn? You okay? What’s going on?”
“Just a minute,” she called out.
Cade’s eyes narrowed. “He wants you.”
“You think everyone wants me.” She reluctantly pulled back and tugged down her skirt.
“They do. You’re sexy as fuck.” His chest heaved, his eyes hot, the bulge in his jeans betraying his need. “Benson I can handle. Mad Dog, too. Banks might be a problem. He took down six men in less than three minutes when Jagger decided to bring him to the clubhouse for questioning. Might just have to shoot him.”
Her lips turned up in a bemused smile. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t. You’ve already put one of my jobs at risk.”
Cade made a quick self-adjustment and then nodded for her to open the door. “Won’t shoot him unless he touches you.”
“Much obliged.”
He brushed his knuckles lightly over her cheek. “Still wanna fuck you.”
“I get off at midnight.”
EIGHT
I will never dishonor my colors.
SINNER’S TRIBE CREED
Jesus. Fucking. Christ. Cade shot back his bourbon and closed his eyes as the thick, sweet liquid burned its way down his throat. What the hell was wrong with him?
If Banks hadn’t knocked on the door, he would have taken her in the restroom. Over the sink. Her hair twisted around his hand, back arched, legs wide as he plunged his cock deep into her hot, wet pussy.
Only Dawn could push the demons away. He’d never felt a connection with anyone in his life, but during the two nights he’d spent with her, he’d felt no pain, suffered no flashbacks. He had wanted those nights to go on forever, and when she left him, he hadn’t been able to shake the memories. He’d imprinted. Like a goddamn newborn chick.
He watched her work her way through the bar, the grace of her movements, the ring of her laughter, the brightness of her smile marred by the fading bruises on her face. He imagined his hands on her ass, his fingers in her hair, his mouth on her soft lips, his cock inside her slick, wet heat. He liked her compassion, her sass and directness. When she was annoyed, she let him know it, and damn she’d been pissed about Delilah.
Christ, he’d liked that little flare of jealousy. Her indignant sniff and the flush in her cheeks were the only things that told him he wasn’t wasting his time. Everything about Dawn screamed sex, but there was something more that kept bringing him back. He’d never been so inexplicably drawn to a woman in his life.
Apparently the bunch of losers in the corner felt the same. They’d been harassing her all evening, but the bouncer kept them in line. Now, however, the bouncer was occupied with a belligerent drunk and one of the biker wannabes was trying to pull Dawn onto his lap.
Cade shoved back his chair and stalked across the bar, knocking tables and the odd person out of his way. Dawn struggled in her captor’s grasp, then jabbed him hard in the ribs with her elbow. The dude bent over and she spun around and clipped him a good one in the chin. Damn fine woman could look after herself, but the dude’s friends didn’t look so happy. Time to make sure they got the message the party was over.
But before he reached the table, a black blur shot in front of him and Deputy fucking Benson stole the show.
“I suggest you keep your hands to yourself.” Benson put one protective arm around Dawn and pulled his fucking shiny sheriff badge from his pocket. The dude Cade had intended to pound into the floor paled.
“Didn’t mean anything by it, Officer. Just joking around.”
“Good to hear.” Benson tucked away his badge., “But I suggest you move on. There are real bikers in this bar who might not take kindly to you playing dress-up.” He nodded to Cade, but Cade wasn’t interested in playing the game. Not while Benson had his hands on Dawn.
“Let her go, Benson. Dawn had this fight.”
“She was in danger. Someone needed to step in and save her.”
“I deal with this all the time.” Dawn struggled to free herself from Benson’s tight grip. “There’s no need for them to leave. I can handle guys like this.” But Benson wasn’t listening. His hand tightened around her shoulders and he glared at the miscreants.
“Go.”
The wannabe bikers threw some money on the table and raced out of the bar.
A sliver of annoyance slid through Cade’s chest. Earlier this week, he’d thought Benson wasn’t a threat, but now he saw him in a totally different light. He wanted what Cade wanted. He’d come to the bar to make his move while Cade had been getting drunk and squeezing tail at Peelers.
“She’s fine, Benson. Get your paws off her. Last thing she needs is more of the same.”