What's Your Poison

25 - This was a Free Fall

Jade

Weeks passed and the bar came together like puzzle pieces. Each time I walked through the door, it felt like my vision was being brought to life a little more. Pop out pages from a fairytale book. Except it was a sexy, moody bar fit for anyone looking to let their worries hit the floor. To be trampled underfoot on exposed aggregate.

I wished heavy boots could trample my worries to dust, except the cause of those worries was often striding the length of the bar. Impossible to ignore, with his thick leg muscles rippling under dark shorts. When he crouched down to inspect something, it gave me a perfect view of his other considerable assets.

Ones that I had no business noticing.

When Mission was deep in conversation with one of the other brother's I saw glimpses of his pink tongue. Rolling around innocuous words, the sight of it made me clench my legs together. I existed on the edge of need, addicted to the rough groans he muffled against my heated skin. Outside of when he had his head between my legs, I didn't speak to him.

He took whatever I offered without arguing with me. But when he kissed my inner thighs, lingering after bringing me over the edge. He pressed his devotion into my skin like a tattoo. It was almost too much to take. But still I took, selfishly using him.

Now I was behind the bar at Sleepless Knights, for old times sake. The new bar getting opened soon and I watched Iron give Mina the nod. He jerked his head and ambled out of the bar. She sashayed after him, shooting me a wink. Mission was ensconced in his booth, toying with the beer label on the bottle planted in front of him. A prickle traveled down my spine as I watched his frustrated movements. It occurred to me I could give him the nod, jerk my head and he would follow. Mission would do whatever I wanted, so what did I want? I couldn't keep doing this with him. The heat he built seemed to linger, craving more, remembering how good he felt inside me. How the low rumble of his voice vibrated through my body afterwards, wrapped in our own cocoon. A sweetness that had infected my marrow. My teeth ached with the echo of it.

Wings walked in and did a double take, neck twisting as he leaned to inspect Mission's leather jacket.

"What the fuck is this?" He laughed, flicking me a strange glance. Mission's lip quirked, and he shrugged.

"What does it look like?"

Wing's eyes widened like saucers, and he shook his head. Some brothers wandered over and peels of laughter rang out. Shocked disbelief. I itched to see what they had them rolling around but didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I'd been listening.

"It looks like you've lost your damn mind, or at least your balls," Bat taunted, landing a stinging slap on his shoulder. Mission shrugged them off, unfazed by their ribbing. He slipped out of the throng, reaching his arms up in a stretch. A sliver of tanned skin peeked out, a tantalizing tease. Mission turned around and started walking backwards.

"I'm a man on a mission, boys."

His dark hair had a wild lick in the back, a tangle I wanted to sink my fingers into. I gripped onto the bar instead, chastising my optimistic heart. Until I saw what was on the back of his jacket. Not the shield that was normally there. Instead, it read:

Property of Jade.

Three words on red and black patches. I was glad I had been hanging on the bar, because my watery knees would have me collapsing on the floor. My heart bruised my ribcage, elated, deluded. But now everyone was coming over to look at what he was wearing. Sol whistled low, looking at me for my reaction. Well, I wouldn't give Mission the satisfaction. My insides might be jelly, but he didn't need to know it.

Except he did. Mission leaned over the bar, white teeth flashing like he'd won.

"Can I get a beer, wildcat?" Warmth threaded through the request. But I couldn't move, my limbs boneless. We were the sole focus of everyone in the room.

"Does this mean you two are back together?" Wings looked between us, disbelief etched in the furrow of his brow. Mission raised his eyebrows, battling a grin. Irritation rose in me, mingled with something I didn't want to touch.

"These stunts are getting old." I addressed Mission instead, pulling out a beer and slamming it down in front of him. He took a long draw and his eyes glimmered like blackened gems. His tongue ran a line of his bottom lip, and I tracked it with hunger I hated. The phantom swipe of it coasted over my skin, tasting salt, leaving heat.

"It's not a stunt. I love you and I want you. I can count the good things I've had in my life on my hand. The club, obviously. And you, wildcat. I hurt you with dumb shit, I said, so I guess I have to make amends the same way."

Before I could process the swooping in my stomach, Mission looked back to the rest of the club and flung his arms out.

"If it wasn't already obvious as fuck, I'm in love with Jade. Got it?"

Wings cheered, rousing everyone to add their approval. My heart should have stopped from shock. But it continued thumping in my chest. Inexplicable warmth spread with his admission and I scrambled to snatch it back. Put it somewhere safe and silent.

"If Tay was here, she would kick you in the nuts." I hissed at Wings, clicking my tongue when he groaned.

"What sweet torture it would be." He insisted, sharing a lascivious smile with Mission. I was off kilter for the rest of the night. Mission took his beer, but he didn't return to his booth. Those red and black patches taunted me as he moseyed over to every damn person in the bar. He even holed up near the jukebox with a group of club girls, and a sharp seer of jealousy made me grit my teeth. They might have hung off his arm, but it was platonic. Our gaze met over the crowd, mine tinged red, hazy with confusion and frustration. My stomach was a tumultuous ride, coating my throat with the harsh sting of acid. His dark eyes seemed bright, like a lighthouse warning a ship away from jagged cliffs.

I could read his desire, written in every inch of his skin. Other people surrounded him, but it was me he wanted. Mollified, a surge of impulsivity grabbed me. I jerked my head to the back room. The whites of his eyes flared bright, chased by a crease on his brow. I'd tossed an invisible line, a tightrope we were both balancing on now. My heart leapt in my throat, pulse thundering in my ear. So, I gave him my back, sauntered into the dark. I tasted fear in my shuddering breath, sharp and intoxicating as vodka. My knees trembled when I heard his heavy footfalls hurrying after me. Still, I couldn't turn, frozen by the implications.

This was a crossroads.

This was a free fall.

Mission's hands clasped my shoulders, and his back pressed against mine with a mind numbing warmth.

"You want me between those pretty thighs, wildcat?" He whispered. Yes, and no. I wanted him inside of me, around me, over me, under me. But mostly I wanted Mission. His rough hands owning my body and his tongue whispering love against my skin.

Shouting love for all to hear. My heart was an optimist, but my mind was skittish, layered with heavy mistrust. So, I asked for something else, to see if he would give it to me. To soothe the rampant want that had taken me over. His touch on my shoulders was electric. I wanted it everywhere.

"I want to fuck."