Screw Page 10

  Jazz walked up to him with a drink in each hand. “Here you go, sir.” She mock curtsied while smiling, but it all seemed…forced.

  “Thanks,” he said as he took the beer from her. He planned to have a few, but not much more. Keeping his wits about him seemed wise tonight. Though the clubhouse was rockin’ in full party mode, he’d noticed he wasn’t the only one avoiding the hard stuff tonight. With their rival club back in town, many of the Handlers seemed on edge. A little tense. Security around the perimeter had been beefed up tenfold since last week’s party.

  “So, you ready to meet my girls?”

  Finally, a genuine glow of happiness from her. Whatever had gone down between her and Screw a few days ago had killed her a little inside. She’d been subdued ever since. A shell of the woman he’d traveled so far to see. That woman still existed. He’d seen her the day they went to breakfast, but Screw had messed with her head, sending her into a minor depression. For that alone he hated the Handlers’ enforcer.

  “Of course. Bring on the ladies.”

  She bounced on the balls of her feet, grinning as she towed him across the crowded room where a gaggle of females had gathered. They didn’t even try to hide their curiosity as he and Jazz approached.

  Each and every one of them greeted Jazz with a hug and a complement on how good she looked. Clearly, she’d found a sisterhood she loved, and they seemed to hold her in just as high regard.

  “So who do we have here?” A long haired curvy blonde asked. She looped her arm through Jazz’s, openly assessing him.

  He had no problem with that. Getting Jazz’s friends in his corner couldn’t possibly be a bad thing. So let them gawk.

  “Ladies, this is Gumby. Gumby, this is my girl posse. We have Holly, Toni, Chloe, Stephanie, Shell, and…is Izzy here?”

  The red-haired beauty she’d called Chloe shook her head. “She stayed home with the baby tonight.”

  Jazz nodded. “She has a newborn. You’ll meet her soon, though.”

  “Ladies,” Gumby said with a dip of his head. “Nice to meet you.” They were a gorgeous group, all dressed in similar attire. Tight denim, skimpy tops, high heels. Nothing overly flashy or revealing, but a bit of skin showing. All except for Jazz, that was. She wore a fitted sweater, covering every inch of skin on her upper body. While she looked stunning, of course, Gumby had a hard time reconciling the woman he’d known in Arizona with this version of Jazz. She’d never been trashy or skanky, but she’d loved to dress up and flash a teasing hint of skin. Since he’d arrived, he hadn’t seen so much as a bare elbow. For whatever reason, she’d taken to keeping herself one hundred percent covered, even in her own home. Hell, even while she’d been working out yesterday.

  “He’s a cute one,” Holly said, nudging Jazz with her elbow. Her blue eyes shone with mischief.

  Pink-cheeked, Jazz nodded. “He’s all right.” Then she winked.

  Gumby clutched a hand to his heart. “Just all right. Damn, woman, you wound me.”

  Jazz giggled. The sound lifted his spirits.

  As he chatted with the women, answering their rapid-fire questions, he couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of Screw out of the corner of his eye. The guy had downed three shots in five minutes and was working his way through a glass of whiskey. Guess he wasn’t worried about getting shit-faced. Irresponsible ass. One of the Handler’s club whores, someone had called them Honeys, hung off his arm laughing like he was the funniest man on earth.

  Every few seconds, Jazz’s gaze drifted Screw’s way and the light in her eyes dimmed a little more. The guy had to realize his behavior would bother Jazmine. Just a few days ago, Gumby had caught them in a heated lip-lock. Now he flaunted some bimbo right under Jazz’s nose. What the hell was the guy thinking? Was this all a game to him? Did he get his kicks watching Jazz dangle on the end of his line?

  No matter how much she protested, Jazz had some level of attraction for Screw. It was the why he hadn’t quite figured out yet. Sure, the guy was hot as fuck, but couldn’t Jazz see past that to the selfish asshole beneath?

  Okay, fine, the man also loved his club, had the full trust of his brothers, was pretty damn funny, and seemed respected by the women of the club as well. Maybe he wasn’t a total fucker, but he sure seemed to be on a mission to wound Jazz tonight.

  And fuck if he was gonna stand by and watch the guy hurt her. A sexy ass, swagger, and that soft looking beard didn’t give him the right to stomp all over her. No matter what went down between them the other day.

  “Well, welcome to Townsend, Gumby,” Shell said, drawing his attention back to Jazz’s friends. “Let any of us know if you need anything while you’re here,” Shell said with a sweet smile. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was the president’s ol’ lady.

  “Thank you. Your town is nearly as gorgeous as Jazz is.”

  A collective, “Aww,” came from the ladies, making Jazz blush and roll her eyes, but some of her sparkle returned.

  Point, Gumby.

  He dangled his empty beer bottle, giving it a shake. “I’m gonna grab another. Anyone want a refill?”

  The ladies shook their heads.

  “Want me to come with?” Jazz asked, flicking her gaze again to Screw who hovered near the bar. Sweet of her to offer to be his back up, but Gumby actually hoped to catch the guy alone for a minute or two.

  It was time to clear the fucking air.

  “Nah, babe, I’m good. Enjoy some time with your girls.”

  She looked ready to protest, but he winked and rushed off before she had the chance. After asking the barman for another beer, he felt rather than saw Screw sidle up next to him. How he’d known it was Screw and not anyone else on earth was a mystery he’d rather not delve into.

  “Well if it isn’t Townsend’s newest resident,” Screw said as he signaled the Honey lending a hand behind the bar. He held up two fingers. “Tequila.”

  Gumby wanted to refuse, but it seemed like a challenge, so he accepted. “Not a resident. Just visiting an old friend,” he said as he turned toward the man and leaned against the bar.

  “Hmm,” Screw said, facing Gumby as well. His grin was a little sloppy but no less confident.

  “You’re upsetting her.” Why beat around the bush.

  Screw laughed, slapping his palm on the bar. “I’m upsetting her? Shit, had I known you were funny as well as hot I’d have brought you coffee the other morning.”

  What? Screw thought he was hot? Was he…did he…

  “What is it that I’m doing to upset the queen? Breathing?”

  “Don’t be an asshole. You’re acting like she doesn’t exist. You’re flashing your whores in her face.” No, Screw wasn’t really coming on to him. He was just trying to get under Gumby’s skin.

  “You jealous?” Screw bobbed his eyebrows.

  Now it was his turn to laugh. “That you have a harem? Nah, been there, done that. Ready for something with some depth.” God, why did the man have to be so goddammed good looking? A plain black T-shirt stretched across his broad chest. The thing barely contained his biceps. The men Gumby had been with tended to be on the smaller side. Less dominant, twinkier, he might say. Someone who wouldn’t be looking for acts Gumby wasn’t interested in now or ever. Screw was the opposite. Dominant, aggressive, powerful and it ticked every one of Gumby’s closeted buttons.

  “Actually, I meant jealous of them. You know, cuz they get a piece of all this.” He winked and lifted the hem of his shirt revealing a set of abs that would make any interested party beg.

  As Gumby was about to refute the claim as ridiculous, the Honey delivered their shots. “To…friends.” Screw said as he lifted his glass.

  Gumby met the man’s chocolate gaze. It was the best way to describe his eyes. The exact color of milk chocolate whereas Jazz’s were far more the bittersweet variety.

  Still holding up his full shot glass, Screw raised an eyebrow. His mouth was canted up in a cocky grin that shouldn’t have made Gumby want to suck on his lip. But it did
.

  Shit. The shot…right.

  He lifted his glass. “To friends. New and old.” He could toss out an olive branch. They may not become best fucking buddies seeing as how they both wanted Jazz, but they could be cordial. Friendly.

  They tossed back their shots at the same time. Screw licked a lingering drop off his lower lip and Gumby was helpless to do anything but track the movement. Fuck, those plump, kissable lips…

  “So,” Screw said, smirk back in place. “Jazz know you like cock?”

  Gumby coughed as the last bit of liquid slid down his trachea. He glanced around. Thank fuck, the music was deafening, and no one seemed to be paying attention to them. No one but Jazz, who watched with a frown from across the room. He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but she began walking in their direction.

  Marching more like it.

  “What the hell are you talking about? You’re crazy. I’m pretty sure I like pussy. Always have. Always will.”

  “That may be,” Screw said, tilting his head. “Doesn’t mean you don’t like cock too.”

  He could barely fucking breathe. Some asshole was going to out him and ruin his life. His family was far more important than his enjoyment of dick. Christ, he could lose his club, his job, his…everything. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, man, but I don’t. You musta misinterpreted something.”

  Screw’s laugh held a bitter note. “Like what? The way you stared at my mouth just now? Or how about the way I keep catching your gaze on my ass.” He stepped close and dropped his voice. “Trust me, I know when someone wants me.”

  Sure, when everyone wanted him, it was pretty easy to catch on. Arrogant ass.

  “Tell me you’re not hard, right now,” Screw whispered.

  Gumby shook his head. “You’re out of your goddammed mind.”

  “Aw come on. You owe me. Jazz told me to fuck off and get the hell out of her life because of you, so—”

  “You’re fucking unbelievable.”

  Oh, shit.

  Jazz stood two feet away, hands on her hips, eyes blazing. “You can’t even fathom that I just don’t want to sleep with you, can you? It’s not totally impossible for someone not to want you, Screw. It’s called real life and you need to fucking grow up and live in it.” She tossed her hands up, turned, and stomped three feet away before coming back and getting right in Screw’s face.

  He kept the arrogant grin, but his jaw ticked. The man wasn’t nearly as unaffected as he wanted them to think. Interesting. A small layer of the onion that was Screw had been peeled back.

  “I said that shit to you the other day because of me. Not because of him.” She jammed her finger into Screw’s chest, probably breaking the digit in the process. “Ow, dammit.” She stepped back, shaking out her hand. “I said it because I’m more than a dumb fuck you can forget about five seconds after you come. I’m worth more than that even from a fucking hook-up. So I asked you to back the fuck off for me.” She pointed to Gumby. “Leave him the hell out of it.”

  Jazz stormed off, walking past her girlfriends with a few mumbled, “I’m fines.” Holly tried to catch Jazz’s arm but she jerked away and continued toward the restrooms. Toni held Holly back from running after her.

  For just a split second, so fast Gumby almost missed it, Screw’s expression crumbled, and his eyes followed Jazz’s path across the clubhouse. But as quick as it came, it vanished, and he was back to being a smug fucker.

  “Huh,” he said with a shrug. “She looks pretty fucking hot when she’s pissed. Bet she’ll ride you damn hard. Better go get you some of that before her mad wears off.” He turned back to the bar and ordered another shot.

  If he hadn’t seen the flash of anguish, Gumby would have believed Screw was as callus and unfeeling as he wanted the world to believe. But pieces of the puzzle were beginning to fall into place. Screw wasn’t a heartless, unfeeling asshole. Quite the opposite.

  Still, it didn’t excuse him acting like a compete jackass at every pass. And it didn’t simmer the mad he’d worked up at seeing Jazz so undone.

  Screw’s shot arrived and he lifted it to his lips. “To angry fucking,” he said.

  Quick as a whip, Gumby lashed his hand out, smacking the shot away from Screw’s mouth. It sprayed across the bar and down Screw’s shirt.

  “What the…”

  “Hurt her again and I’ll end you,” Gumby growled before storming away.

  He needed a few moments alone to gather his thoughts and this fucking party was not the place to do that.

  “Hey,” he said to Holly as he walked up to the ladies. “There a quiet room I can hide in for a few minutes? I need to…uh…make a phone call.”

  Smooth, Gumby.

  The pitying looks he received let him know not one of the ladies bought his story.

  “Head up the stairs. Third door on the left.”

  “Thanks.”

  Gumby took the stairs two at time. The whole way, the hairs at the back of his neck stood on end. When he reached the top, he risked a glance Screw’s way.

  Sure enough, the infuriating and sexy man stared straight at him.

  And damn if his traitorous cock didn’t love it.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IF SHE’D BEEN smart, she’d have left an hour ago. Before the dramatic confrontation. Now, she’d lost track of Gumby, lied to her friends with the classic I’m fine bullshit, and been a grade-A bitch to Screw. Not that he didn’t deserve every word out of her mouth, but that wasn’t her. She wasn’t anybody’s doormat, but she didn’t lose her temper and lash out, either.

  In her defense, the two men at odds had completely fucked with her head, making her question up from down and right from left. Any woman would have snapped.

  That counted as a solid defense, right?

  Now she had to apologize to the man who’d probably twist her remorse into a sexual innuendo, leaving her angrier than when she’d started.

  Damn Screw. None of this would even be an issue if the man wasn’t so…potent. She could have shrugged off the flirting, let him down gently, and gone about her life.

  But he was. So goddammed potent. He had this magnetism about him that drew men and women willing to shed their pride for just one taste of him. It’s what kept her trapped in his sticky web for all these months. Sickest part of it was she’d miss the attention if it disappeared. Being the focus of Screw’s sexual desire was…exciting. More than exciting, it was intoxicating.

  With a sigh, Jazz trudged up the stairs, heeled boots clunking with each weighted, dejected step as she headed toward one of the bunk rooms where visitors often stayed. Bikers crossing the country or ones popping by to party for a few days who needed a place to crash were given the bunk room. The place had six no-frills bunk beds and a bathroom attached you couldn’t pay her to venture into. Thankfully, the Honeys took care of cleaning that place, though from what she’d heard, they did a half-assed job at best.

  As she wandered her way down the deserted hall, she took a second to soak up the silence. Or quasi-silence. A heavy drum beat still pounded from below, but it was muffled and not nearly as overwhelming as it seemed just sixteen steps down.

  A loud thump followed by an oomph had Jazz picking up the pace as she rushed to the bunk room. Finding Screw and Gumby beating each other to a pulp would be icing on the shit cake of the evening. Copper didn’t tolerate that nonsense in his house. They wanted to take it outside, no one cared, but tearing the place up drove the president nuts. Just her luck, she’d have to be the one to find them and tell him the two morons were battling it out in the bunk room.

  Maybe she could put a stop to it herself before it got out of hand and men needed to be brought in to break it up.

  Just as she was about to burst into the room and make sure the guys were still breathing, a low-pitched, growly voice rang out. “Now, tell me again how fucking straight you are.”

  What the fuck?

  Jazz peeked through the slit of the partway open door. Immediately, she li
fted her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp of shock.

  Directly in her line of sight stood Gumby with his back against the wall, Screw’s body flush against him, trapping him in place with a hand on the wall by Gumby’s head. The other hand lay between them—Jesus, was he massaging Gumby’s cock? Gumby’s eyes held a note of panic as he stared at Screw. He shook his head back and forth.

  He didn’t want this.

  Though she should scream out for Screw to back the fuck off, her throat constricted so tight, she felt like she couldn’t draw in air. What the hell was Screw doing?

  “I said, tell me how this hard cock means you’re straight.” The raw sexual command in Screw’s voice sent a shiver down Jazz’s spine.

  Gumby’s head hit the wall with a dull thud as he moaned into the quiet room.

  Wait…that was not a sound of protest. It was one hundred percent a sound of need.

  Did he want Screw’s hands all over his body? And why the fuck did that thought make her hotter than she could remember being in ages?

  “Thought so.” Screw said. He removed his hand, planting it on the wall alongside Gumby’s shoulder. Though Gumby was taller, Screw appeared so much larger in that moment, having the position of power. “You like cock,” he said in a ragged whisper as he rolled his hips into Gumby’s.

  After another tortured moan, Gumby shook his head. “No. Back off.”

  “Seriously? Even as I’m grinding my hard as fuck prick all over your hard as fuck prick, you won’t admit you want my cock?”

  “Fuck you,” Gumby said.

  Jazz stood there, heart hammering and feet rooted to the ground, unable to tear her gaze away. Gumby was gay? No, she’d noticed a bulge in his jeans more than once back when they’d been flirting constantly. So he was bisexual? Like Screw. Holy shit, how had she not known this? Was she that oblivious? Or was that part of him not public knowledge?

  As much as Gumby denied his attraction to Screw, he hadn’t pushed the other man away. In fact, he was shoving his pelvis forward, thrusting against Screw’s erection.