Hot Ride

by Kelly Jamieson

  “See ya, kids.”

  He and Sera went inside. He noticed the tiny bumps puckering her soft skin and how she rubbed her upper arms once inside the house.

  “I’m going to have a shower,” she said quietly. He let her go into the bedroom alone to get her things.

  Where the hell was Manny? Likely at The Patch. He dropped onto the couch, put his feet on the table and picked up the remote for some relaxing channel-surfing.

  He heard Sera go into the bathroom. The pipes clunked as the shower started. Images of her removing the bikini top, dropping it to the floor, then wiggling her hips out of those tiny shorts swarmed in his head, distracting him from the baseball game he’d found on TV. He pictured her in the shower, surrounded by steam, her naked body wet and soapy.

  He groaned and adjusted his hard-on. Christ. It probably wouldn’t be appropriate to walk into the bathroom and join her. They had some kind of weird relationship going on here. Partners. Now lovers. But not lovers in the true sense of the word. They’d had sex. That didn’t entitle him to any expectations of more—sex in the shower, sex on the floor, or even sex in bed again.

  Last night they’d slept together in the same bed. But where would he sleep tonight? Manny’d given Ryan a long, faintly amused look that morning when he’d emerged from the bedroom, and commented, “Taking this undercover role to the max, huh?” Ryan had restrained himself from punching out Manny’s smile, then growled, “That doesn’t leave this house, right?” They’d lucked out the other night discovering the recording equipment was off, and he didn’t want all the guys talking about Sera because they’d slept together.

  He longed to open his pants and pull out his cock and give himself some quick relief. He eyed the front door. Hell.

  He got up, locked and bolted the door, returned to the couch, fingers at his belt buckle. He wrenched it open, threw himself down on the couch and spread his legs wide, drew his engorged cock out and fisted it. The shower continued to run. He licked his lips, leaned his head back and closed his eyes, pulling at his dick with firm, fast strokes. With his other hand, he cupped his balls and gave them a tug. They were up against his body so tight it was as if they were trying to climb inside him. He moaned again, bit his lip, pressure building in his testicles.

  He pictured Sera, water streaming over her bronzed, slender body, tipping her face up to the water. Flames licked over his body, hotter, sizzling over his skin, and the urgency inside him swelled bigger. He heard the shower turn off, muttered a curse. He still had time. He pumped faster, harder, his breath stalling in his chest. As his orgasm erupted, he realized faintly he hadn’t planned well, and he yanked up his shirt, made a harsh sound low in his throat as jerking spurts of thick white landed on his bare stomach, slid over his hand. He cried out again, low and guttural, body taut, until the spasms ceased and he relaxed into the cushions of the couch, gasping for breath.

  He heard the bathroom door open and lurched upright. He grabbed for the box of tissues on the table beside the couch, swiped at his stomach and hastily zipped up. Still breathing fast, he stood and looked down the hall just as the bedroom door closed behind Sera. Whew.

  That was all he needed, her walking in on him busting a nut. Christ. He closed his eyes. He could only imagine her reaction.

  He could also easily imagine her joining him, replacing his hand on his cock with hers, stroking him with soft hands, and then taking him in her mouth… He twitched again. Fuck! He was supposed to have gotten some relief, and here he was getting hard and horny all over again.

  He went into the kitchen, ran a glass of cold water from the tap and drained it. Then he stood there, both hands on the counter, leaning against it, eyes closed. He should be thinking about this operation, how he was going to get a taped confession to murder from Zocco. Solving a homicide would be the icing on the cake for this op, especially if Zocco admitted he’d done it on behalf of the Angels.

  Earlier, over at Vince’s and Carly’s, he and Vince had talked about the delivery, and Vince had said he’d give him more if he was interested. Hell yeah, he was interested. He’d captured every word of their conversation, and then when Sera’d told him what she’d learned that afternoon, he could have kissed her.

  Well. That wouldn’t be a hardship even if he hadn’t been so jubilant about the progress they’d made.

  And he had to admit it was thanks to her. The four of them sitting around the pool, two couples having pizza and beers, talking about business—even though the business happened to be illegal—had been invaluable. And Sera’s little girl talk afternoon had turned into a gold mine.

  He heard Sera come into the room behind him, inhaled deeply and straightened, turning to face her. She was all pink and damp from the shower, dressed in the same striped pants and T-shirt she’d worn in El Mirage. Dark hair hung in damp tendrils past her shoulders, creating wet spots on the pink top.

  “Why are you afraid of dogs?”

  The words surprised him more than they surprised her.

  She frowned at him. “I’m not afraid of dogs.”

  “Yes, you are. You almost jumped into my arms out there. Not that I minded.” He smirked and her scowl deepened. Then he regretted his teasing. She obviously had a hard time admitting any kind of weakness. And while on one level he liked knowing she actually had a weakness, on another level, he completely understood. He didn’t like admitting weakness, either.

  “Never mind,” he said gruffly. “I wanted to thank you.”

  “For…?”

  “For being here.” He cleared his throat. “This afternoon you got some great stuff from Carly. And then—just the opportunity to relax with Vince, alone like that, just the four of us…I wouldn’t have had that if it weren’t for you.”

  She stared steadily at him. “Thank you.”

  He nodded. Silence swirled around them.

  “When I was a kid, I got bit by a dog.”

  He nodded. “That happens to a lot of people.”

  “It was a German Shepherd, just like that one.”

  “Bingo.”

  “Yes. Bingo.” She blinked at him. “It was more than just a bite. I got mauled pretty bad. Ended up in the hospital with a lot of stitches.” She pulled her hair away from one side of her neck. “This is one of the scars.”

  He hadn’t noticed that in his frenzy of lust last night. “Oh Jesus.” He sucked in air, not sure what to say.

  “I’m uh…going to bed now.” Thick tension coiled around them, his unspoken question hanging there.

  “Okay.”

  “I put some blankets and a pillow on the couch for you.”

  Shit. “Okay.”

  “Just one thing…”

  “What’s that?” He crossed his arms across his chest, leaned back against the counter. Disappointment at knowing he wasn’t going to be sleeping with her that night buzzed in his ears, distracting him from her words.

  “I need to go back to L.A. I need enough money to buy fifty hits of angel sugar from Zocco.”

  Ryan choked. “Fifty?”

  She nodded slowly. “I told him I want fifty. I want them to think I can sell a lot.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can get to the lab.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “No fucking way.”

  Sera stared at Darren Forsythe. She sent a sideways glance at Ryan, who scowled, and at Manny, who placidly chewed his gum. Her body tightened, and she gripped the armrests of the chair so tightly her fingers ached. She forced herself to relax her fingers.

  “I need to do this,” she said, leaning forward. “If they think I can sell that much, next time I’ll ask for more. And then after that, I’ll ask for so much I’ll want them to prove to me they can supply me enough. If they are running the lab, that’s how I’ll find out. We have to do this.”

  Darren shook his head. “Too much money. Not going to happen. Surveillance is expensive. It’s gonna break us.”

  She sat back in her chair and studied him. “Lo
ok, Mr. Forsythe, I know this wasn’t part of your mandate when you started this op, but it is the DEA’s mandate. This is what I’ve been working on for two years. This is an unbelievable opportunity.”

  He too sat back in his chair. “No. We’ve been forking over dough like this is a bakery. Forget it. I’m not putting my ass on the line with that much cash.”

  “It’s worth it.”

  He slowly moved his head from side to side.

  “Call Ward. They’ll pay for it.”

  He frowned at her.

  “Seriously. Call Ward. If you don’t want to, I will.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Sera pulled out her cell phone and punched a button. In a moment, she talked to her SAC and explained the problem to him. “He wants to talk to you.” She held her phone out to Darren. He heaved a sigh, rolled his eyes, but took the phone from her.

  “Forsythe.” A pause. “Yeah. Yeah.” Silence. More silence. He sat up straighter. “Fine. Let me know.” He clicked the phone shut and slid it across the table to Sera like a shuffleboard puck. She caught it neatly. Darren’s mouth twisted. “He’s got a call in to the U.S. Attorney’s office.”

  She resisted the urge to smirk at him. “So?”

  “He’s going to call me back. In an hour.”

  “Okay.” She looked at Ryan and Manny. “Let’s go for lunch, guys.”

  They levered their big bodies out of the chairs they sat in, and the three of them filed out of the meeting room. “Ryan.” All three of them halted at Darren’s voice and looked back over their shoulders. “I need you to redo some of the reports you did last week.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Too many typos.”

  “Oh, for Chrissake.”

  Darren shrugged, his eyes gleaming. “Hey. They gotta be done right.”

  “I’ll do them after lunch.”

  “They’re on your desk.”

  With a scowl, Ryan stalked out of the building. Sera followed, Manny behind her. Wow.

  “Asshole,” Ryan muttered.

  Sera grinned. What was that about?

  When they’d taken their seats in a nearby restaurant, full of men in expensive business suits and women in designer dresses, power suits and heels, Sera looked at Ryan over her menu. “Why does Darren have it in for you?”

  Ryan scowled and flicked his eyes over the menu, then slapped the laminated plastic down on the table. “He doesn’t.”

  Manny snorted and Sera laughed. “Bullshit.”

  He met her eyes across the table. “It doesn’t matter.”

  She shrugged, studied her own menu. “Okay. Fine.”

  “What’s your SAC got up his sleeve?”

  “Just what Darren said. Washington’s interested in this case.”

  “That should get Darren’s attention. He likes to suck up to his superiors.”

  Sera nodded. “I got that impression of him.”

  They talked strategy over lunch, Sera sharing how she hoped to get into the lab in Oakland eventually, Ryan talking about his hopes for getting Zocco to confess to the murder of that witness on tape. They were getting closer, so much closer, but still so far away. Sera’s jaw tightened at the thought that she might not get the money she needed to do what she wanted. That would be just cruel—getting in, getting close and then tauntingly saying, sorry, no cash.

  When they returned to the ATF offices, Ryan heaved a sigh and headed for his desk. Sera followed him. He threw himself down into the rolling chair and reached for the stack of papers on the desk. Sera put out a hand.

  He looked up at her blankly. She jerked her hand. “Give them to me.”

  “Give what to you?”

  “The paperwork. I’ll redo it for you.”

  He frowned. “Why?”

  “Because I type ninety-eight words a minute and I can redo these faster than you can open the file on your computer.”

  He stared at her, eyes hard and dark. She waggled her fingers. He glanced at his watch. “Here,” he said gruffly. “Take these ones. I’ll start on these.”

  She took the papers from him and retreated to another desk and another computer. He was so cute, pecking away at the keyboard with two fingers. Okay, maybe four fingers.

  She tapped away, finished the documents she’d taken from him, then went back and took the remainder from him. He only frowned a little, kept plugging away at the ones he was working on. They both finished at the same time.

  “Okay,” she said cheerfully. “Let’s go see if Darren’s heard back from Ward yet.”

  Ryan poked his head into Darren’s office. “Yeah, yeah, give me a minute,” Darren yelled. “See you in the meeting room.”

  With a grin, they retreated to the meeting room and arranged themselves around the table with cups of coffee in hand. Sera watched Ryan stick a hand into the pocket of his jeans and pull out a roll of something—antacids again. He popped two in his mouth and crunched them as he shoved the roll back in his pocket.

  “Tummy troubles?” she inquired sweetly. She resisted the urge to rub her own fluttery tummy as they awaited Darren’s go ahead.

  He glared at her, but said nothing. She sipped her coffee, not all that hot and kind of burnt tasting.

  A moment later Darren strode in, wearing the perpetual furrow between his brows, his belly swelling over his belt. He flung a folder down on the table and dropped into a chair. “Okay,” he said. “You’ve got the money. Attorney’s office wants us to keep going.”

  Sera resisted the urge to smirk at him, merely nodded and said, “Thank you, Darren. I really appreciate you taking the time to talk to him. I know that the DEA brass will also appreciate all the work you’ve done for this case.”

  She couldn’t help but notice Ryan gape at her across the table, and Manny’s choked cough.

  Darren assessed her across the table and nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for letting me know about that, Sera. We wouldn’t want to piss off Washington.”

  “God, no,” she agreed fervently, sending a glance to Ryan. His ferocious scowl almost made her laugh. “So I’ll buy the fifty hits of sugar on Thursday, and then I’ll tell them I want more. Next buy will be even more money. You’re prepared for that, right, Darren?” She smiled at him, and his answering smile tickled her inside. Damn, he was easy. She didn’t know why he and Ryan rubbed each other the wrong way. You just had to know how to play the guy.

  The three of them had driven to L.A. together, and on the way back Sera turned to Ryan, who was driving. “We need to stop at a grocery store.”

  “What for?”

  “Uh…groceries?”

  He shrugged. “Okay. Sure.”

  She’d discovered very little edible content in the cupboards and refrigerator of the house. She knew the two guys didn’t cook and mostly ate out. That no doubt accounted for the antacids Ryan kept popping. She was no gourmet cook, but at least she could scramble some eggs or toss a salad.

  They waited in the car while she cruised up and down the aisles of VONS, throwing things into the cart without a lot of thought. Just a few basics. She liked to eat healthy. Yogurt. A couple of bags of salad greens, already washed and chopped. Granola. A few cans of tuna. Then she hesitated at the meat counter before grabbing three steaks.

  She loaded the bags into the back of Ryan’s truck and they finished the trip back to the house. Manny and Ryan carried the groceries into the kitchen and started to help her put them away. Another amusing moment. These guys had to act all macho and chauvinistic around the bikers, but without their presence they were gentlemen to the core, carrying the heavy bags in and helping unpack them without a word of protest or even her asking. Something inside her softened and warmed at that.

  “What the hell are these?” Ryan held up a box, a frown creasing his brow.

  “Uh…” She’d forgotten those. Embarrassed, she rushed forward to take them from his hand. He held them up, out of her reach.

  “Who’re these for, Sera?” Ryan grinned, holding up the box.


  She wanted to grab for them but knew she’d only draw more attention to her chagrin. So she stood there, glaring at him, cheeks burning.

  “They’re for Bingo.”

  Manny turned from the refrigerator. “Bingo? That mutt next door?”

  “Yes.” Sera looked at the floor. She waited for more teasing, but when she lifted her eyes, Ryan had turned and was sliding the box of dog biscuits into an upper cupboard. He turned back and caught her eye, and he wasn’t smirking. His steady gaze once again melted her inside, all oozing and gooey softness and she stiffened her spine. She didn’t need any special treatment from him. Nor was she going to explain herself.

  “Hey, ice cream,” Manny said. “Great idea.”

  After the Milk Bones, Sera wasn’t about to explain that the ice cream was for Billy and Crystal. Ha. Every time she thought about them, their names made her laugh. Had their parents planned that?

  So she didn’t admonish Manny not to eat it all. If he did, she’d just go buy more, but them seeing one moment of softness on her part was enough for one day.

  “You gonna cook for us, Sera?” Manny asked, mouth quirked into a gently teasing smile.

  She grinned back at him. “Maybe.”

  “Are you a good cook?” Ryan asked. The warm huskiness of his tone made her turn to him. If they’d been alone, she’d have drifted closer to him, perhaps touched him, answered him flirtatiously. But they weren’t alone. So she swallowed through a tight throat and tipped her head to one side.

  “No,” she replied, smiling. “But I’m probably better than you two.”

  “Ha,” Manny said. “Doesn’t take much for that. I can’t even microwave a hotdog without exploding it.”

  Ryan laughed. “I actually burnt spaghetti one time.”

  “See what I mean?” Sera put her hands on her hips. “So when I make runny mac and cheese, don’t complain.”

  “Oh, we won’t.”

  Thursday, Sera eagerly awaited the call from either Zocco or Carly. It came from Carly.