by A. J. Macey
“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” I managed to get out between kisses, my hands tangling in his hair as he picked me up before dropping me onto my silk sheets.
“Yeah? I’ve missed you too, Kittycat. Let me show you just how much,” he whispered in my ear, lining up and immediately slamming home. Even though I was wet, the rough adjustment to his size had me moaning, clawing at the sheets and his back. My body flooded with fire, searing me from the inside out. Chase’s pace didn’t falter as he continued to thrust into me relentlessly. Without warning, my eyesight dimmed, my core clamping around Chase’s hard cock as I orgasmed. As I rode out the tingly aftershocks, Chase’s movements turned leisurely, letting my next orgasm build slowly.
When my body calmed, my assassin kissed me fiercely before pulling out and flipping me over. Once again, Chase was in control as he ground into me, his grip hard enough to bruise as he fucked me. The throb from his fingers digging in only added to the wave after wave of pleasure. Over the last few months, it had felt like my mind was always swirling with thoughts of the assholes I’d left behind, but for now, the pain was keeping me grounded to every moment here with Chase. The flare of pain had my blood pounding and my eyes fluttering shut as I slowly let go.
I didn’t know what fell from my lips in the haze of lust that I was drowning in, my release building sharply. The bedding muffled my cries as I reached between my sweat sheened stomach and the rumpled sheets, rubbing my throbbing clit in hard circles. The added fire sent me over the edge diving into another orgasm.
“Fuck,” Chase groaned out, his thrusts faltering as he came. He continued to rock within me, his pace slowing until he grew soft and my breathing evened out.
Well, as even as it could with him still buried inside me.
Collapsing onto the silky sheets, I moaned in happy contentment from our quickie as Chase folded over me.
“Now that’s quite the welcome home, Kittycat,” Chase murmured against my back, his scruff tickling my skin as he peppered a few soft kisses along my shoulder blade. The ding of my phone sounded, and before I could reach to get it, Chase was already grabbing it. “Here you go.”
“Thanks, my little assassin.” I accepted it from him with a smile and a kiss on his stubbled jaw, but when I saw who the message was from, I ground my teeth.
Prick: Hey, Baby. Just messaging to say I hope you’ll reach out soon. We miss you.
“What’s the murdery look for, Kittycat?” Chase asked from his spot on the edge of the bed. He shifted, leaning back to look over my shoulder. “Ah, Brooks trying again, I see.” I narrowed my eyes on him, knowing he hadn’t really needed to ask who had messaged.
“Don’t be playing innocent with me, Chase Yarwood, I know you gave them this number after I got it. And I know you’re aware that they message me a few times a week,” I challenged with a single brow raise.
“I Plead the Fifth.” His hand rested on his chest while he raised the other in the air. “Besides, I’m not making you talk to them or them talk to you. I just wanted you to be able to when you were ready.”
“You really think I’ll forgive them after everything?” I huffed, flipping over to sit up. “I trusted and cared about them, and they took that and threw it away.”
“Kittycat,” he said softly, a hint of sadness lacing his gaze as he cupped my face in his calloused palms. “I love you very much, and I just want you to be happy. I don’t know if you’ll ever forgive them, but I know you need to address what happened sooner or later. No matter what happens though, you’ll always have your assassin.”
“Yeah, I know.” I chuckled, the permanent ache in my chest easing as Chase crossed his heart in an ‘x.’ “I love you too.” Feeling uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed, I flopped back, cuddling into Chase as he lay down. I knew I would have to address the issue at some point, but damn, I didn’t want to.
So, right now, I’m just going to enjoy my two weeks with Chase and not think about a certain MC until later at an undisclosed date.
You know, avoiding it… like an adult.
December 11th
Wednesday Morning
Kiera
“I’ll see you soon, Kittycat, love you,” Chase murmured against my lips as he kissed me hard. “Can’t wait to see what pictures you’ll have waiting for me when I land.”
“Love you too.” I smirked as he started toward his car door, knowing I was going to tease the ever-loving hell out of him with dirty texts and photos while he was gone. “See you in two weeks.”
My assassin pulled out of the driveway with me not too far behind him. One of my random procurements was in an auction today, and I wanted to see who all was going to bid on it.
The auction house was a little way out from my flat but nothing that I couldn’t reach easily on my bike. Soon enough, I was pulling into the parking lot of the building a few businesses over. Walking, I glanced around at the dry streets and bare trees that had been left behind after last week’s quickly passing slushy rain. The weather here in southern Italy wasn’t bad during the winter, usually dipping down into the fifties, so I found myself dressed in a pair of tight jeans and a hoodie under my jacket.
“Miss Tom,” a familiar southern twang called out, “I was hoping you would be here today.” Elliot Cavanaugh, my old partner, made his way over to me, his freckled face pale against the red curls atop his head.
“Mr. Revenant, I wasn’t expecting to see you.” I hummed in fake delight, confused as to why he would seek me out in person instead of through our digital channels. His smile was plastered to his face, but I could see the tension in his eyes.
Something was up, and if it was enough to rattle Phantom, then it was bad.
“Yes, well, you know the phrase”—he offered me his arm—“‘I was in the neighborhood.’ Walk with me?”
“Of course,” I responded politely, curling my fingers in the crook of his elbow. We wandered to the very back corner of the auction pews and settled away from the other buyers.
“It has come to be known,” Elliot whispered, his eyes locked on the auctioneer so as not to draw suspicion, “that a certain fat-faced fuck has put out a very large number into a certain not-so-nice crowd about a certain MC, specifically their officers.” My heart stopped, and my blood ran cold.
Frankie ‘Smokes’ had put a hit on The Aces. My Aces, I thought, regret twining with disappointment that I couldn’t keep that distinction out of my mind.
“Yeah, well, they can fend for themselves,” I ground out. They didn’t want my help then, so they don’t get my help now. But try as I might, I couldn’t squash the thread of dread in my stomach. Elliot’s lips thinned as he looked at me out of the corner of his eye.
“You would willingly let them walk around without knowing there’s a big red target on their backs?”
Grinding my teeth, I sank into the hard wood of the pew. Yes… no… I don’t know, all swirled around in my head, battling for which side to pick.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so, Cat. There’s no deadline on it, but if the rumors are true, they don’t have much time.” He shifted to stand, the auctioneer pausing between items so they could be taken off and on the stage for bidding. “I’ll see you around, Miss Tom.”
He left me sitting alone, lost in my warring thoughts. Why should I help them? I raged, fury burning me from the inside out, but Abby’s signature smirk and single brow raise filled my mind. Followed by the dreamy smile she got when she thought about Nate. Dammit, I can’t let Abby and Nate or Chase be caught in the crossfire despite how much I would love to kick the other three officers in the balls.
Fuck, I have to go and help the fucking bastards. I sighed, realizing I had to get ahold of this whole emotional shit. When did I turn into such a sap? I grumbled as I hopped onto the bike I had bought when I first arrived in the country. The loud revving drowned out the sounds around me as I went straight for the private airfield, a quick plan formulating on the way to the jet as to how to handle the shit show I�
�d be walking into.
Fucking emotions.
Chapter 2
December 12th
Thursday Midday
Brooks
“So, is she coming back?” I asked Chase as soon as he walked through the door. I hated that I sounded super needy, but I couldn't help it. It had been six months since we had seen or heard from Kiera, and I missed her. Fuck, even Stone misses her. Good luck getting the bastard to admit it though.
“I’m not sure yet.” Chase sighed, rubbing a hand through his hair and messing it up even more than normal. “I talked to her, but I’m not sure how much she was actually listening. I know she had another job she had been eyeballing, but I don’t know how it’ll go or if she will even take it. It could be another couple months if it’s a big job.”
I cringed, hating that everything had exploded in our faces in just that one day, but at this point, I would do whatever I could to see her. Chase had been balancing his time between Kiera and us, meeting up with her at whatever off-the-grid place she was staying at for her current job in who-the-fuck-knows-where, Europe, and then flying back to the States to help us out for a few weeks at a time.
Things had been quiet since we finally dismantled our rival MC, the Alloy Kings. Bryce Hill, the former President, and the members that hadn’t been arrested had scattered in fear of what Chase or Kiera would do if they continued to work with her father. Speaking of her father, Frankie ‘Smokes’ Casterelli, we hadn’t seen much of him recently. He was still locked down within his casino, but the rumors were growing.
Expansion was the word whispered on everyone’s lips. Not just business expansion, but physically growing his territory into California if the meeting we’d overheard before Kiera left was anything to rely on. Damn, everything went to shit after that. He was also looking into expanding into Colorado as well as a few other major cities surrounding Nevada. If he expanded, he would be impossible to stop, and he could easily overpower us. We had been working day and night monitoring everyone we could track within the Solace mob, but they weren’t doing anything out of the ordinary.
Just because we needed something else to worry about since Kiera had left us, we’d learned her stalker and attempted rapist, Jace Corden, had fucking disappeared and even six months later we still couldn’t find him. We had a couple of contacts saying he was locked down within the Solace, while others were saying he was traveling and making pacts with international members of the not-so-nice community. Personally, it wouldn't surprise me if he had followed Kiera, and that was an entire reason to fucking stress in and of itself, but I pushed it away from my mind and focused on the lowball of whiskey I had clutched in my hand.
“It'll be all right, Boss.” Chase nudged me playfully, his eyes lighting up as he watched me intently. Chase was an odd character. At first, I thought he was completely insane, but while he was indeed crazy, there were so many layers to him that I still felt like I was pulling back the pieces to see who he really was on the inside. On the surface, he was crazed, manic, happy, and absolutely in love and sold on Kiera alone, everyone else be damned. When I got further down, I knew he had that dark side that he’d needed to be an assassin, Ciar—the side fueled by the meticulous perfection and cold detachment one needed when looking into someone’s eyes as they took their life. Even deeper than that, he legitimately wanted what was best for those closest to him which now included us here at the club. How we had earned his forgiveness I would never know, but I was grateful for it. Though, he stuck mostly to Garrett—Kiera’s stepbrother who had taken her leaving the hardest—our MC’s enforcer Stone—the entire reason we were on the outs with Kiera in the first place—and me.
Garrett walked into the bar from the back office after having gone over the logistics for our next drop, Stone following closely behind and both looking worn and tired. Garrett hadn’t been sleeping, his anger and worry keeping him up late at night. Despite the winter weather that had rolled in lately, we’d find him sitting out by the pool in the back, blankly staring over the serene water. Hell, it was even supposed to snow the last time we’d found him out there.
My VP slouched onto the stool next to me before downing the liquor in one swift gulp. We didn't talk. Our relationship had been strained since her departure, but we continued to work as a unit with our other officer, Nate, who was one of Kiera’s longtime friends. He had told us repeatedly to not worry about it, that she’d be back. As much as I wanted to believe him, it was hard to keep hoping when each month passed, summer and fall going by without so much as a message or call from her. Not for lack of trying though. I was sure we looked like stalkers with the amount of times we’d called or messaged the number Chase had said was Kiera’s. While she never responded, she didn't change her number or block us, so that was positive, I guess.
Fuck, you sound like a whiny pining bitch, I chastised myself. You're the fucking president of a motorcycle club! Get your ass in gear and fucking watch over your members. With that thought, I successfully pushed back the swirling emotions in my mind and took a drink, mentally preparing for the day’s list of shit to do. I had just finished my drink when the deep rumbling of a vehicle sounded outside the bar’s door. Curious, I turned, not recognizing the vehicle’s sound. I couldn't believe my eyes when the owner of the vehicle walked through the door.
Kiera.
My Baby.
She was frowning slightly as she strode confidently into the room, one of our newest prospects, the unfortunate fool who’d been assigned to watch the gate, scurrying after her with irritation clear on his face.
“I’m sorry, Boss, she didn’t even stop at the gate,” the prospect huffed, glaring at her.
“It's all right, Brick.” I stood, sliding off the wooden bar stool while still struggling to believe she was right in front of me. I drank her in and despite her hair being cut shorter, the loose waves brushing her shoulders of her leather jacket, she was the same Kiera. At least on the surface, but the more I looked at her, the more I realized she was different. The light that had flourished within her during our weeks together had been muffled until it was nearly nonexistent. Her leather jacket was layered over a hooded sweatshirt, and while she still wore a pair of skin-tight pants, her riding pants had been changed out for skinny jeans and thick combat boots that were black and scuffed. She stood silent and glanced around us with wary eyes, looking to Stone last. Her eyes narrowed and her lips thinned, but in a very un-Kiera-like fashion, she kept any snarky comments to herself.
“Why are you here?” Garrett surprised me by being the first to break the tense, silent stand-off we were having. His words were harsh, his jaw ticking as he ground his teeth together. She looked at him, really looked at him. If I hadn't known her well enough I would have missed it, but the skin around her eyes tightened and her eyes darkened as they always did when she worried about one of us. She was no doubt noticing Garrett’s rough appearance.
“We need to talk,” she murmured. Her husky voice was rough but quiet in the bar. Brick continued to glance around us in confusion before finally speaking up.
“You can't just demand a meeting with the officers,” he tried to chastise her, his condescending tone setting me on edge, but Kiera’s brow cocked as her attention swung to the prospect.
“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” she snapped, taking half a step closer to him. She was at least a half a foot shorter than him, and she looked like a child compared to his wide shoulders, barrel chest, and bulky muscles, yet he was the one to take a step back. “Looks like you’ve been slacking on training your little leather wearing boy band, Brooks,” she snarked, turning her ire toward me. Even in the face of her anger, I couldn't help but smile.
There’s my Baby.
Kiera
The guard from the gate glared at me as I snapped, his fingers twitching as I looked to Brooks.
What the fuck is this prick smiling for?
“If you fucking pull whatever weapon you have, I will gladly shoot you,” I ground out a
s the man started reaching toward his belt. “These bastards may offer you protection, but you haven’t met me yet. And let me be very clear,” I murmured, focusing back on the prospect before me. “I’m not the average whore who hangs around this fucking joint. I will skin you alive and place your head on a spike outside for everyone in this compound to see. So I suggest you don’t fuck with me, Brick, am I clear?”
“Go back to your post,” Brooks commanded, his smooth voice nearly making me quiver where I stood, but I kept my scowl in place as I watched the bulky man glare at me before he stormed out. “You said we needed to talk?”
“Hi, Kittycat,” Chase exclaimed, practically skipping forward to kiss my temple, but not even his manic smile and happy gaze could cheer me up. Focusing on the officers, I came to one conclusion. They all looked like fucking hell; dark circles, messy hair, and shadowed eyes. Garrett’s appearance was the worst, and I could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, while Brooks looked like he’d run his hand through his hair one too many times causing it to flare every which way. Finally, Stone—the bastard—was staring off to the side, his jaw clenched tightly, and his arms crossed over his chest.
“Let’s go back to the office,” Brooks said, tilting his head to the hall. Nodding, I waited until they all started down the dingy carpeted hall before trailing after them with Chase by my side.
“I’m proud of you, Kittycat,” he whispered, barely audible in the quiet hall.
“Be proud if I don’t end up shooting all of them by the end of this.” Anger stirred as I stepped into the hauntingly familiar office. It was like nothing had changed and no time had passed. But it had. I wasn’t the same woman who walked into this bar earlier this year.
“So, what do you have to tell us?” Garrett muttered, leaning back against the wall. Emerald eyes hadn’t left my face since I’d walked in, hurt and anger swirling in the grassy depths, but I wouldn’t let myself succumb to the fact that even when I was pissed as hell, he still made me horny as fuck.