Revved Up Soul: A MC Romance (12 page)

“No no you’re not,” Jasmine let go of his hand, “I’m going to have Jessica keep an eye on you when I can’t.” I just wish I knew why.

Jasmine looked back at her resident, still addressing Augustus. “Nobody is going to know, I promise you. I
promise
.”

She didn’t like the look in the girl’s eye.

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Jasmine

 

God damn him, he better be okay. Jasmine wished she really did smoke, it’d only been an hour and some change since she’d caught Augustus in his office. The stairwell was empty again and she welcomed the solitude it provided. Whatever the man was going through, Jasmine was going to make sure that she backed him all the way – she knew beyond a doubt he’d do the same for her; besides, wasn’t it the not only the right thing to do – but the pragmatic thing? The man saved so many lives, he was so, so brilliant and passionate.

She wrapped her hand around the glass rose in her coat, running her fingers along the petals. It calmed her to absently play with the token, and yet a flash of anger jumped right through her when she thought about Luke and that girl. I’m being selfish, Augustus could have died . . . I wish I could forget about Luke.

We’ll never see eye to eye.

Jasmine spent another couple of minutes reflecting on the chaos in her life when she heard the door creak open behind her. Her body jolted in response and she craned her neck to see who it was. Tch, speak of the devil.

Light poured through the doorway as Luke stepped inside of the stairwell, letting the door close behind him. “Figured you might be in here,” he smiled that handsome, private smile.

It made her gut churn with disgust. She saw the way he had smiled at the girl. His private smile was not Jasmine’s anymore, and it never had been.

Luke continued, “You okay?”

She turned her head away from the man, not wanting to even look at him. “What’s it to you,” she said cattily.

“Whoa whoa,” Luke stepped over to her, sitting on the yellow railing and looking down upon her. “Did I do something wrong here? I can smell the vinegar coming off of you right now,” he laughed.

“It’s not funny,” Jasmine coolly announced, still not looking the man in his eyes.

Silence hung in the air for several heartbeats. “I’m sorry,” he said, though she could tell he wasn’t sure just
why
he had to be as such.

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for,” she could only see Augustus’ eyes, black and dilated. “I—“ she fumbled over her own words, a tight ball forming in her throat. “I almost lost someone close to me today, Luke,” she phrased it that way instead.

The corner of Luke’s mouth downturned in sorrow. “Talk to me,” he implored.

She stroked one of the glass petals and shifted against the hard concrete wall. “I mean, I guess I can’t say that we’re friends exactly,” she started, “we see each other a lot, and I’d like to think that he’s my friend but . . .”

Luke slowly moved from his spot on the rail and slid over beside of Jasmine, his necklace moved with him. He then carefully slipped a hand around her shoulder.

She thought briefly about physically telling him no, but instead leaned against his touch. “He did something really stupid,” she continued, taking in the lovely smell that was all his own. “Something that could have ruined his life and I’m just, scared I guess.”

“It’ll be okay,” he rubbed along her shoulder soothingly.

“Maybe,” she offered in reply. “I saw you earlier,” she confessed quiet as a mouse.

“With Janet?” He asked, chuckling to himself. God why did he always have to be so cocky. “That why you’re pissed?” Asshole.

The anger rippled right through her then. “It is, actually,” she snapped, somewhere between too sad to function and too angry to think clearly. She wriggled free from the man and stood up. “The two of you had your hands all over each other,” Jasmine lashed out, narrowing her eyes. “You had that same stupid smile that you gave me when we first met,” bringing a hand up to her mouth, she moved back against the railing – the sting of tears threatening as she bumped her ass.

Luke got up and his jaws relaxed open an inch. “Look just let me explain.”

“No!” She whined, as if she were a girl again acting out against her father’s wishes. “Why should I? By what right? You, you think I
killed
your
brother
—and you act one way and then you go and act another,” adrenaline coursed through her; the blood in her felt thick, like sludge through her veins.

“Calm down Jas,” he put up his hands, his eyes searching her own.

“Everything you do makes me crazy and I can’t take it,” a single sob escaped her and a warm tear rolled down from her eye. Without thinking she tried to move further away from him.

Lightning jolted up from the soles of her feet and shot through her spine like it were a conduit, a sickness assaulting her gut and a sense of doom cutting right through her – Jasmine’s muscles suddenly felt like jelly and her body’s perception of time and space became distorted.

Oh shit

Luke closed the distance between them in the blink of an eye.

Jasmine’s heart thumped against her breast and for half a heartbeat she wondered what that shrill noise was as she started to freefall over the edge of the railing, her long legs lifted from the ground and up into the air – nearly level with the yellow rail.

Luke’s arms coiled around her as he snatched her, grunting as he pulled her back from her fall and pinioning Jasmine’s lithe body against his own. The moment seemed to crystalize, electricity dancing subtly between the two.

Jasmine took in a breath, her chest heaving outwards against Luke’s. When she saw his eyes exploring her own and he tilted his head to the right, she knew. It felt like every part of her body had become hyper sensitive, like the inside of her body had gooseflesh in glorious anticipation.

Please let it be my everything.

Luke tightened his grip against Jasmine and cocked his head to the side, moving in slow and pressing his lips against her own.

It was her everything and more.

His lips pressed soft at first, and then hard. Her body felt like it wanted to melt against his, waves of pure ecstasy crashing against her – a ball of need forming between her legs and a finger invisible pushing joyously against her chest. Jasmine moaned with pleasure as Luke brought her to the wall, pushing her against it and taking her mouth for all that it was worth.

Luke lifted her up with a grunt and moved along her supple neckline, tasting her in full.

The ends of Jasmine’s nipples prickled with pleasure and soft little noises escaped the depths of her throat. She coiled her legs around his hips and pulled his person against her, loving the feel of his wet and warm mouth attacking her neck. God, yes, bite me just like that. Jasmine’s body went wild with lust, intoxicated by the way he marked her. She wanted to tell him to be careful, that it would be grossly unprofessional for others to see anything on her – but all she could think about was how amazing it felt to have his hardness pressing up against her through his Levi’s.

With a primal noise, Luke pressed harder against Jasmine – his hands exploring her and savoring every glorious inch. He looked deep into her emerald eyes, his chest expanding hard in a quick breath and his jaw a little slack. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he declared, his eyes searching Jasmine’s desperately.

Lovely warmth blossomed deep within Jasmine’s chest, a feeling of elation flooding her so quickly she feared that she might drown in it. “You’re always on my mind,” she husked, taking his face in her hands and kissing him hard. He tasted amazing, was it even possible for someone to taste that good? “When I saw you—I just wanted to smack her and kiss your lips right there, you make me crazy, Luke,” Jasmine confessed.

Luke brushed his hand against Jasmine’s cheek and she leaned into his touch. “I was playing her, Jas,” he pressed his forehead against hers.

“Are you playing me?” She was afraid of how he might answer.

“Everything you make me feel is too damn real,” he kissed her again. “I needed to score some Oxycotten for the club; she couldn’t give me any more.”

“How many did you need?” She pulled him by his head gently into another kiss, savoring the taste of his mouth – biting down just a little.

“A lot more than she could spare,” he gave a hopeless look.

“So?”

“Sixty,” he said.

“Wow,” Jasmine exclaimed, “I take it that many’s probably not for pain management.”

Luke offered only a stoic silence in response, the corner of his mouth curling and his brows rising slightly. He moved back to her neck, kissing all along it.

She knew that she needed to get back to work, a niggling feeling of fear creeping along her that someone might catch them at any moment. But it just felt so damn good. “How badly do you need them?” She hated herself for asking, hated herself for the compelling feeling in her chest that spurned her so.

“Why?” Luke sounded suspicious.

“Just tell me,” Jasmine breathed.

He pulled himself away from her then, setting her back down carefully so that her feet touched the floor. “No,” he said, “if you’re getting at what I think you’re getting at, then no.”

Jasmine crossed her arms, “So you’ve got a better idea.”

“I’m not putting your career at risk,” Luke deflected.

“I have someone that owes me a favor,” Jasmine tilted her head and stepped forward, “let me help,” she insisted.

Luke froze in place as Jasmine placed her hand on his chest, looking into her emerald eyes. “I don’t know,” he muttered beneath his breath, Jasmine let her hand slowly run down the hard muscles of the man. He grabbed her wrist and pressed his arm along the frame of her chest, shoving her against the wall – a breathy gasp of excitement escaped her mouth. A smirk walked along the lines of Luke’s face.

Liquid fire ran through her body freely. Was it wrong to like being handled so rough? “What’s the matter,” Jasmine husked, “afraid I might feel how turned on you are?”

“Like I said,” he chuckled darkly, “I have a hard time controlling myself around you.”

Wetness pooled against the base of Jasmine’s sex. “Maybe I like it when you lose control,” she purred.

Luke’s smirk widened. “We’ll see about that.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she forcefully pushed him off of her, taking his hands in her own and holding them. “If you . . . give me a bit,” she knew it wasn’t smart. She knew better. “I’ll get you what you need.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Luke

 

The sun hung low and fat on the skyline, trying to hide itself away as the moon faintly came into view – the last orange rays leaving the heavens a wondrous pink. He needed to get there soon; he was already fifteen past the agreed hour. The roar of his bike punched at the air as Luke sped past a Civic. He was driving fast down the highway, the broken white lines of the road becoming a kind of blur. Dark trees painted the landscape with their mighty trunks and their riots of leaves, thick reaching branches shooting in all directions. He could smell them in the moist air and it was good; Luke always felt more alive when he was immersed in nature, it felt right.

You know you shouldn’t have let her get those Oxycottons, he chided. You’re making your problems her problems. Love was supposed to embolden you, set you free – not keep you beholden to the cesspool that was dealing. Or at least supplying, in this case. Same difference. Able had always preached that being pragmatic about the fact, that if the Knights weren’t doing it, someone else would, was just a cop out. That if more people went against the grain, real change might happen.

Luke’s views never quite fell on that side of the white picket fence. He hoped, deep within, that they one day would.

A part of him cringed when he thought about going back to his home. Having to give that sycophant her fix. Back in the day Luke stuck anything that moved within his radius, Kayla just happened to have the wettest gash and the meanest lay of his life. Luke slid over into the far right lane, fast approaching his exit.

***

It sent a warm wave of disgust down Luke’s person when he saw Robert waiting there in the woods on his bike, a pair of beat up junkers and a black escalade parked on the dirt lot. Robert had his pack of goods slung around his person.

The din of the engine of Luke’s FX50 came to a relative quiet as he slowly approached and then stopped altogether. He kicked up his stand, brought his leg up high and twirled off of the bike. He thought, for the briefest of moments, of his brother – the ring on Luke’s silver necklace moved to his motion.

The house before the two was an almost palatial den of drugs and sex and redneck debauchery. Luke never enjoyed dealing with Shady Earl, but for some reason Allen always insisted that he and Robert be the ones that keep that relationship intact. Still, the man paid good dollar for the product they supplied – things only became complicated when the clubs original connection passed away.

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