Page 16 of Fletch
“On?”
“If your club is as clean as you say it is.”
“You’re wasting your time,” I tell her. “The last copper who thought she could take us down ended up becoming part of the club.” I close the gap between us, and she tips her head back to look up at me.
“I’m not her,” she whispers, her eyes burning with need.
I run my lower lip through my teeth, and before I can change my mind, I kiss her. It’s soft, and although she hesitates, the second I wrap my hand around her throat, she relaxes and allows my tongue to explore her mouth. It’s a few seconds before she comes to her senses and pushes me back. “What the fuck are you doing?” she snaps.
“What you wanted,” I tell her, smirking.
“I didn’t want that,” she spits. “I’m getting married.”
A car horn beeps, and she spins to look outside at a sleek, shiny BMW. I grin. Of course, he drives a dick’s car. “Your chariot awaits.”
“Don’t fucking come near me again,” she warns, stomping off out the exit. I open the side door and lean against the frame, watching as she scoops one of the boxes into her arms. “You want me to help? Cos it doesn’t look like lover boy is gonna.”
“I can manage,” she hisses, carrying it out towards the car. The boot opens automatically, and she dumps it in before heading back towards me.
“What a catch. Does he slam doors in your face too?”
“Don’t be a prick.”
“I’m not the one watching my fiancée haul boxes around. Is it his hands he’s protecting?”
She pauses in front of me. “He’s worth ten of you.”
I smile. “Ten? Wow.”
“What do I owe you for looking at the car?”
“Nothing, sweetheart. That kiss was more than enough.”
She scoffs. “You’re a prick.” And she stomps back towards the car.
“Never claimed to have changed,” I call after her before storming into the office and slamming the door closed.
Seconds later, Nyx follows me in. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“I kissed her,” I blurt, and he arches a brow.
“Was that the plan?”
I run my hands through my hair in agitation. “What fucking plan? There is no plan, but I just kissed her and, fuck, I . . . I enjoyed it way more than I should have.”
“You’re overthinking. What’s this chick got that all the club whores don’t have? Nothing,” he says firmly. “Go fuck someone else and forget about her. She’s a copper, and we don’t mix with that sort.”
I give a stiff nod and crack my neck from side to side. He’s right—Gemma is old news, and before this week, I hadn’t thought of her in years.
Gemma
“How much did they rob you?” asks Peter as he pulls out into traffic.
I stare straight ahead, my mind racing from what just happened. The kiss felt . . . nice. I scrub my hands over my face. Who the fuck am I kidding? The kiss was hot and made me feel like a goddamn teenager again. I growl, and Peter laughs, glancing over at me. “That much, huh? Told you they’d rip you off.”
“Where were you all night?” I ask, sounding harsher than I mean too.
“Working, like always. Why?”