Home > Reaper's Fall (Reapers MC #5)(23)

Reaper's Fall (Reapers MC #5)(23)
Author: Joanna Wylde

I gaped at him.

“I can’t believe you just told me that,” I said finally. “That’s pretty shameless.”

“Shame isn’t really my thing,” he said, radiating cocky confidence. “Just roll with it, babe. We’ll have a good time, and then you’ll go home with Painter while I nail your roomie.”

I blinked.

“You realize I’m totally going to warn her about you,” I finally managed to say. He smiled, pure sin on a stick. Or would that be sin with a stick? Heh.

“I’m counting on it,” he said. “She likes trouble—I can tell. It’ll turn her on, challenge her. The more you warn her, the easier it’ll be.”

I frowned, trying to decide how that made me feel.

“Let’s go,” he said. “I’m hungry, and Em says the BBQ out here is incredible. I’ll even buy you dinner. Sound good?”

I nodded, still confused. I wasn’t sure how to deal with this, but he was right about one thing . . . fair BBQ was the shit, and damned if I wasn’t hungry.

CHAPTER SIX

PAINTER

The fair sucked.

Taz had shown up with Melanie at his side, and I’d spent the last two hours wandering the exhibit tents, watching them and festering, because he was doing everything he could to fuck with me.

Cockwad.

Whenever she turned away, he’d thrust his hips toward her or pretend to grab her ass. Flick his tongue. Squeeze his dick. Nothing but a damned pervert. Hunter was in on it, too, taunting me quietly whenever he had the chance. My own brothers were fucking useless. Horse just rolled his eyes, and when we finally headed into the BBQ tent for dinner, Ruger pointed out that if I didn’t have the balls to claim her, I should let it go.

God help me, if these fuckers were supposed to be my backup, I’d do better on my own. The night was fucking endless. I could give two shits about rodeo—thought it was decent entertainment, but I wouldn’t be out here if it wasn’t for Melanie. I kept trying to catch her eye, but she wouldn’t look at me. I knew she was aware, though, because she kept blushing. Probably embarrassed about last night. Fair enough . . . But the longer I watched her with Taz, the harder it was to keep my distance.

She deserved a man who was perfect, and that fucker didn’t qualify.

At least the food was good. There were a hundred different places to eat around the fairgrounds, but the BBQ had to be the best. If I needed proof I was fucked in the head, it came when I reached the line. There was a pretty little thing ahead of me who kept bumping into me “accidentally.” I’d be all over that if I weren’t completely focused on Mel, and the fact that Taz couldn’t keep his fucking hands off her.

Ten minutes later I headed toward the long tables set up outside the tent carrying a plate of ribs, potato salad, and corn bread. I found a spot at one end, where Horse sat down next to me, flanked by Marie. Ruger and his old lady, Sophie, sat across from us, leaving plenty of room for the others farther down. Soon Kit, Em, and Hunter joined us, and then Taz and Melanie sat next to them. The girls started laughing and giggling together as Jessica joined them.

She seemed to have hooked up with Hunter’s best friend, Skid. She might not be my favorite, but she deserved better than that fuckwad. Better keep an eye on her. Looking away, I caught Horse checking out Jess and Skid, too. Then he caught my gaze and we shared a wordless conversation—Jess was young. We’d both be looking out for her. Taz stood up.

“Anyone want a drink?” he asked, staring right at me. “The ladies look thirsty—thought maybe I’d buy a round.”

Oh, that asshole. He was trying to get Mel drunk again.

“I’m fine with water,” she insisted, and I bit back a smile. Suck it, cockwad. She’s onto you.

• • •

Dinner lasted way too long. Between Kit’s nonstop mouth and Taz’s little digs, I wasn’t entirely sure I’d make it through. Then everyone scattered to hit the bathrooms after we cleared our plates.

Taz stood next to me—whistling happily—while we took a piss, and that’s when I decided I’d had enough of his shit. As we walked out, I nodded at him to follow me behind the nearest display tent for a private word. Too bad it was the Kootenai County Sheriff’s booth—not an ideal spot to murder a man. Shitty to be me.

“What kind of game are you playing?” I asked him, forcing my tone to stay steady and relaxed.

“Having fun, Brooks? I’m likin’ that Mel girl. She’s got a real nice pussy.” Taz cracked his knuckles thoughtfully. “Later—you know, when I’m fuckin’ her while you’re making sweet love to your hand? I’ll be sure to take a few notes, let you know how it goes.”

A year ago I would’ve taken him down, regardless of the fact that only a canvas wall separated us from six cops. Prison had taught me self-control, though. Puck and I had been almost completely alone down in Cali—we couldn’t afford luxuries like acting on our anger. Not if we wanted to live.

Now I used that hard-won self-control to hold my shit together.

“This ends now,” I told him flatly, refusing to play his game. Taz raised a brow.

“This?”

“Don’t be stupid, you know what I mean,” I replied, tired of all the bullshit. “She’s nothing to you, so when she comes back out, she’s with me.”

“How do you figure?”

I smiled slowly, reaching a hand down to touch the survival knife I always kept sheathed on my hip. “You touch her, I’ll gut you here and now, in front of witnesses. You’ll be dead and the peace between our clubs will end—all because you wouldn’t drop a girl you don’t give two shits about. That really how you want this to play out?”

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