I feel both my brows go up.
"Not allowed inside?" I try not to sound judgmental, but … I think it comes out like that anyway. Fauna shrugs, like it's something she doesn't quite care for but that she's learned to live with.
"When he comes out, he'll more than likely come straight through here. If you want, you can keep me company and wait him out."
With a sigh I climb onto the barstool and settle in for a long wait. My laptop, iPad, and all my work papers are in the truck. I swung by my place on the way here, but didn't bother to change, thinking that if I rushed out here that Royal would at least have the courtesy of giving me a few minutes of his time.
You look so fucking hot in my jacket, babe.
I groan and bury my face in my hands. Now that I'm sitting here, in a place with rules as foreign as any distant country, what happened last night is really starting to sink in. I spent the night with an outlaw. The thought gives me the chills, but not in the way it used to, when I would've been repulsed by the idea. Now, I'm just … turned on.
I adjust myself on the stool, the leather of my pants creaking against the seat.
"You sure you don't want a drink?" Fauna asks, putting her hands on her hips and giving me a look that says she thinks I could use one.
"It's not even four o'clock," I say and Fauna sighs, grabbing me a beer and opening the top on the edge of the counter.
"Don't be so uptight, Deputy Mayor. Your job is to woo us all, right? Make us see the wisdom in partnering up with you? When in Rome … " She gestures at the bottle and I pick it up, the cool glass comforting against my sweaty palms. Am I nervous about seeing Royal? No. No, that's not it at all. Why would I be nervous? Last night was as much of a business transaction as today. Everything is perfectly normal.
Yeah right.
I lift the bottle to my mouth and take a swig.
I'm on my fourth one by the time the back door opens and a group of men filter through at different paces, all of them wearing leather vests or jackets covered in patches, none of them Royal. One of the guys, an older man with a thick black beard and a headful of hair that's just starting to go gray, pauses at the edge of the bar and exchanges a quick kiss and a smile with Fauna.
"My husband, Jack," she says, gesturing with her chin as he leaves the common area with the rest of them. "He's the club treasurer," she tells me proudly, wiping a glass down with a clean, white cloth. "Patched in right out of high school, one of the youngest members in Alpha Wolves history."
"That's impressive," I say with a smile, even though I pretty much have zero idea what she's talking about. My eyes wander to the back door again as I continue nursing my beer. I feel a little better now, a little looser. Of course I do, drinking in the middle of the afternoon. I stare down at the brown bottle and wrinkle my nose. Fuck it.
I tip back my drink and slam it on the counter with a sigh.
Fauna grins back at me.
"That's the spirit, Deputy Mayor. Relax. Live a little."
She puts the glass away and then pats down her pockets until she comes up with a cigarette. Fauna lights up and then checks her watch.
"I'm gonna step into the little girl's room for a minute. You okay by yourself out here?"
"I'm fine," I say, even though I've been waiting for Royal for over two hours now. I make myself smile as an idea comes to me. "Take your time. I'm just going to finish this up and take another look around outside."
"Sounds good, cupcake," she says, letting herself out from behind the bar and giving my shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It was good to see you again."
"You, too," I say, keeping my smile in place until Fauna disappears into the bathroom, the heavy wood door swinging shut behind her.
"Women aren't allowed in the clubhouse," I snort, pushing my beer away and hopping off the bar stool. "What happens? Do we burst into flames?" Once upon a time, women weren't allowed in politics either, but somebody made it happen, now didn't they?
I take one last look around and let myself out the back door.
There's a gorgeous garden behind the clubhouse, like something out of a magazine. Somebody with a hell of a lot knowledge, time, and care has put this place in order. There are red brick flower beds filled to bursting, even though it's still winter, as well as an emerald green lawn, a small pond and several benches. In the back, I spot a white gazebo covered in the same red and purple flowers that are hanging above me, creating a tunnel between this building and the one in the back. Two big, healthy rhododendron bushes frame the doorway and the windowed sun porch.
"This is the chapel?" I ask aloud, cringing and then glancing around to make sure there's nobody around. I almost expect a big, bearded biker to jump out and say boo! But nothing happens and I don't hear any footsteps or voices.
I take a deep breath and walk along the cement path under the pergola, pulling open the door to the porch and finding a sea of potted plants and a set of wood doors with wolf heads carved into them. Hmm.
"Hello?" I ask tentatively, stepping inside and letting the porch door swing shut behind me. When nobody answers, I grab the handle on the next door and open it wide to find a long black lacquered table, a set of mismatched chairs and Royal McBride sitting at the far end, bent over like he's in pain, his head clutched in his beautiful hands.
I stand there for a long moment, studying him, before I speak.
"Royal?" I ask, letting the door swing shut behind me.
His head snaps up, brown eyes going wide as he notices me standing there.
"Holy fucking hell," he says, standing up and pushing his chair out with the motion. It's a high-backed beast of black and red and leather. I wonder if he put it there or if it's a leftover relic from the previous president? "Pint-Size, how did you get back here?" he asks, moving around the table with long strides, coming up close to me, too close for comfort really.
"I guess I don't look threatening enough for anyone to pay much attention to me," I suggest as Royal stares at me like a fox in the henhouse … or maybe it's a hen in the fox den? That sounds a little more accurate. His eyes are dark and hooded with emotion, a fact that he seems almost desperate to hide from me. "I've been waiting for you for hours. We had a meeting today."
Royal glances up and over my shoulder, like he's checking to make sure no one's on their way in here.
"You're going to bloody hate this, but-"
"Women aren't allowed in the clubhouse?" I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. "Why? What are you going to do to me for coming in here?"
"Look, love, I don't have a problem with women." Royal lets his mouth curve into a smile. "I'd rather have a table full of pussy than a sausage fest, you know what I mean? But some of the old boys are gonna have to die off before that can happen. Resistant to change and all that."
"Sure," I say, standing my ground. "Do what you want. I'm not here to change your culture. I just want the meeting time that I was promised."
"You were late, sweets," Royal says, looking down at me like he still wishes it was last night on the porch swing, my body arching over his, our hips locked, his fingers trailing down my throat. I shiver. "So I had to cancel."
He steps closer to me, the toes of our boots touching.
"If you wanted to make it up to me, I might try overlooking your lack of punctuality."
Royal curls his hand behind my head, leaning down and running his tongue along my lower lip. This is not supposed to be happening today, my logical mind chirps, but she's quickly buried in a rush of hormones as Royal steps back and reaches down to the zipper of his jeans.
My heart begins to pound and I risk a quick glance over my shoulder to see if there's anyone coming. Oh my God, what am I doing? What am I doing? What I am doing?
I look back at Royal, at his mouth as it curves up into a satisfied smirk.
"I'll keep watch, babe. No worries." I glance down as he frees his already hard cock from his pants and grins at me, like he expects me to just agree to this.
When I don't make any move to oblige him, his fingers come out and snatch my wrist, pulling me closer, forcibly wrapping my hand around his cock. The thick, solid length of him pushes all sorts of buttons for me, making me wet my lips and clench my thighs together as desire rides hard and heavy over me.
"Someone's bound to come in here at some point or another," he says, his voice strained and laced with lust. "Come on, love. Do it. Suck me off and show me how much you want that meeting."
"This better be a joke," I say, but I don't take my hand off his dick.
Royal reaches out and tugs me to him, sandwiching his erection between our warm bodies, his fingers curled tightly in my hair. When he speaks, he puts his lips close to my ear and grinds the words out in a way that makes my entire body shudder with need.