by M J Marino
Fuck yeah, I met her this morning, and fuck yeah, I was already buried balls deep inside of her, but fuck him if he thinks I’m going to share any shit. I smile broadly at Gauge before taking the stool next to him. “I don’t kiss and tell.”
“Since fucking when?” Chase asks on my other side.
I smirk. “Since I saved a pixie from a hellhound and scaled a mountain.”
Chase raises a pierced eyebrow. “What the what?”
I shake my head and laugh. No point in trying to explain the story without spilling the beans on all the sweet details. Fat fucking chance.
Instead of answering, I pull out my pixie’s license plate number from my wallet and hand it to Chase. “I need an address for the owner of this license plate. Tell Steve Shields at the station her name is Josephine Holland. It should help him pull her info faster. I need it no later than five this afternoon.”
“Why? What’s going on this afternoon?” Chase asks.
“I’m taking the pixie on a date,” I answer.
Shocked, Chase and Gauge glance at each other before looking back at me. I know the look. It’s the ‘what the fuck happened to him’ look. It’s how we used to look at our SEAL team when one of them fell hopelessly in love. ‘Date’ is not a word I’ve used before when talking about hooking up with a woman, and these two shits caught it.
Annoyed, I glower. Do I plan on fucking Josephine tonight? Absolutely. But oddly enough, I want more from her than just getting horizontal. Chase and Gauge can go to hell.
“Um, no problem,” Chase says as he takes the license info between his fingers, pulling out his phone and walking outside.
I turn back to Gauge. “I’m not sure if I’m coming back this evening. Only contact me if you absolutely need to,” I inform my second-in-command. In other words, he knows to keep a look out and not involve me unless it’s life or death.
“Sure thing,” he says. “Are you sure getting involved with the designer is a smart move?”
“I don’t give a cock-suck if it’s smart or not. It’s what I want. I’m stuck with this woman for up to four months; I might as well make the most of it.” There, that sounds like me.
Gauge snorts. “Or by the end of the project you’ll have figured out a way to make her your old lady.”
How dare he joke about me being committed to anyone!
I’m about to backhand him in the chest when, without warning, my mind flashes images of Josephine—in my arms with her legs wrapped around me, the slender curve of her ballerina neck, and her coastal blue eyes staring deep into mine.
I bite down hard on my tongue to stop myself from moaning.
“Damn, Atlas, are you sure she hasn’t got you pussywhipped?” Gauge laughs and cracks an imaginary whip.
Fuming but unable to show he’s getting to me, I grunt. Grunting is safe, and he can’t read into it. What I really want to say is ‘there’s no other pussy I would want to be whipped by. She’s fucking it and I don’t care what any of your sorry asses say about it.’ But I can’t admit it, especially when I don’t understand what the hell I’m feeling. All I know is I want more of Josephine, more than what we had on the trail this morning.
“Shit, man, I never thought I’d see the day when Maceo Tabares would settle down,” Gauge continues to poke with a smirk, sipping his coffee.
I suck in my lower lip and bite it, anything to stop myself from showing my cards. This is the last thing I saw for myself.
Gauge eyes me suspiciously and slowly puts down his coffee. “Atlas?”
“Hmm?” I don’t look at him.
Gauge leans in. “Are you shitting me?”
Fuck. Am I that obvious?
Gauge’s eyes go wide and he quickly looks around the diner to see if anyone is listening to us before forcing me to look at him. “Do you like her, like her?”
Groaning, I rub a hand over my face. “I don’t know what the fuck it is, okay. All I know is one time isn’t going to do it for me.”
Gauge’s eyes bulge. “Holy shit!”
I want to tell him he’s got it wrong. I want to tell him she’s just another notch in the bedpost. I want to tell him I fucked her out of my system, and I’m ready for the next. But I can’t because it’s a lie and I don’t lie to my brothers.
Gauge straightens up, stunned. “I feel like there’s been a death in the family.”
“Will you fucking stop?” I snap.
Gauge leans toward me again. “Bachelor Atlas is dead and committed Atlas is born. I mean, it’s not a bad thing.”
Is he screwing with me? Of course, this is a bad thing. Most relationships don’t work. My job is dangerous, I have enemies who seek vengeance, and I’m gone a lot. What woman would want to stick with me through all that shit?
“You’re only saying this because you want a more permanent relationship with Opal,” I growl.
Gauge eyes narrow at the mention of Opal. “Watch it, Atlas.”
Oh, I so have him. “I can’t wait till you finally admit there’s more between you two—other than hooking up every damn night.”
Gauge’s face grows red. Yep, he’s pissed.
“Think about how awesome it’s going to be when I’m hitched and you are too. Our kids will grow up together, and we’ll celebrate the holidays like one big happy family,” I joke louder.
Gauge’s head whips around, making sure no one overheard, especially Opal. “Will you keep your damn voice down?”
I chuckle, but then I’m picturing what I just said in my head. I can see our kids running around outside, catching fireflies in jars while Gauge and I and our wives laugh around a bonfire.
Gauge waves his hand in front of my face. “Are you fucking serious?”
“What?”
“You’re actually daydreaming about this shit?”
I shrug. So what if I am? It’s a fantasy—it’s not like it’s actually going to happen. There’s a pang in my heart and I rub my chest. Shit. I really want this to happen.
Gauge squeezes his eyes shut and runs both his hands through his brown hair. He groans before looking at me. “Ah, this shit’s okay for you, but don’t be going and putting these ideas in my head.”
I look him dead in the eye. “This ‘shit’ is okay for both of us.”
We stare long and hard at each other before looking away.
Gauge’s fingers steeple in front of him and press to his face, like he’s trying to pray the thoughts away. I’m no better. My leg bounces uncontrollably, and I pinch the bridge of my nose.
I growl in frustration. If I can’t talk about what I’m going through with Gauge, who the fuck can I talk to? I decide to let my thoughts out. “Even if I wanted to pursue a relationship with her, she’s not on board. Apparently she’s living by the same ‘one and done’ code as me since her last boyfriend.”
Gauge sniggers. “Never thought a woman would give you the shaft.”
“This one’s stubborn,” I admit. It’s easier to talk about my feelings for Josephine knowing Gauge is in the same position with Opal.
Gauge gives a firm nod. “Good for her. You fucking need someone with a backbone who will challenge you. All those past bitches rolled over and took whatever you gave them. It’s why this one has you wrapped around her little finger. She doesn’t and won’t put up with your shit.”
“All true, but it’s more. One look at her and I was snagged. It’s fucking fate, I tell you,” I say, leaning back in the stool and crossing my arms over my barrel chest.
“You don’t believe in that shit,” he counters.
I turn my deadpan-face to him and raise an eyebrow. Both of Gauge’s go up. “You’re telling me the sex is so good you’re rethinking your fucking relationships theory?” he scoffs.
I shake my head. “You have no fucking clue. Or maybe you do,” I say as I see Opal across the diner staring longingly after Gauge.
“Motherfucker,” Gauge mumbles into his coffee. “Enough of this brother-bonding shit.”
Gauge an
d I have been best friends since we met at boot camp. Just a couple of eighteen-year-olds, angry at the world, finding themselves and their way by becoming SEALs. We found brotherhood through our shared trials and victories. I trust him with everything including my life, and the feelings are mutual.
When I decided to retire after a decade of service, Gauge followed my lead, and he never batted an eye when I suggested we should cruise the country. Chase left the SEALs after seven years of service to follow us. And Punk served his four years before joining our crew. We have a dozen MC members now, but these guys, my motley crew—Chase, Gauge, and Punk—have been with me long enough to know I’m fucking breaking all my rules for Josephine.
Needing to shake off my nerves, I stand and stretch before slapping a hand on Gauge’s shoulder. He nods and stands to follow me out, needing no words to know I want to ride. Punk falls in line and we walk to our bikes where Chase is already waiting.
My phone pings with a text from Chase containing Josephine’s address. I smirk and climb on my bike, pulling out her business card.
When I requested her card, it threw her, but she obeyed and handed one to me. One quick glance and I knew it had her cell number, giving me another way to keep in contact with her.
“I didn’t even need to reach out to Steve at the station. Her address isn’t unlisted,” Chase says, climbing on his own hog.
I frown. Well, that isn’t safe at all. I’ll talk to her about changing her address to unlisted when I see her tonight.
I shoot her a text.
*Don’t forget about tonight, Pixie. I’m coming for you.*
With a nod to my brothers, I start my bike and pull out with Gauge at my right, Chase and Punk behind. We make our way out of the city and let loose. This is our first real ride since coming back from Colombia less than twenty-four hours ago. We all need it. The wind whipping around us and the constant rumble of our engines puts us in a meditative state. We all have our own demons, but in this moment when our tires hit the open highway, we’re finally free.
The sixty-mile drive to Denver gives us a little reprieve before we meet with our next client. He’s some rich investor named Henry, who’s being blackmailed by an ex-lover with pictures of him in some compromising positions. Henry reached out to us through our security company website.
The guy’s in a sore spot. To his family and colleagues, he’s a mild-mannered straight guy, when in reality he’s a closeted gay man into S&M. He was tied up and blindfolded when pictures were taken without his consent.
Lucky for Henry, cyber work is a damn breeze for us. Chase was the intel specialist on our team back in the SEALs, and fuck if he ain’t a straight-up hacker now. The guy is scary with what he can find out and get into with only a computer. Chase prefers to keep things as legal as possible, but when we’re in a pinch, he has no problem breaking a couple laws for the greater good.
It doesn’t seem fair, what Henry is going through. He wasn’t hurting anyone by enjoying his sexual needs. He’s not married or involved with a partner of any kind, no kids—he’s just a poor sap who got screwed by someone in whom he put his trust.
My mind drifts to Josephine. What happened in her last relationship? Did she put all her faith in him and he did something inexcusable? What exactly is she scared of, giving her the opinion that avoiding me is the safer route?
All I can recall her saying about her past relationships is something about not being with anyone since breaking it off with her ex.
Suddenly, I’m able to piece it all together without her having to fill in the blanks. The fucker hurt her, and she has sworn off men since. If this past fuck-up hinders my chances of getting in her pants again…
I’m a level-headed man—have to be in my line of work—which makes my sudden temper unjustifiable. This woman is seriously messing with my head. I sigh.
Shit, I know it’s going turbo fast. It would have been easier on both her and I if she were another conquest, but my ‘one and done’ attitude fucking flew out the window the minute I held her. All I know for certain is I need to earn her trust by being the best man I can possibly be for her.
Before leaving Denver, we reassure Henry we’ll be able to help him. Any hard copies, USB drives, or computers will be confiscated by our ground team, which I will most likely lead. Anything in a network or cloud will be deleted or buried so fucking deep it will never see the light of day.
Back on the highway, I swear my heartstrings pull me closer to Josephine. I’ll be with you soon, Pixie.
When we pull up to our rental, the crew is already partying and it’s only noon. I have six hours before I can have Josephine back in my arms. I decide to take my bike into the garage, tune it up and polish it down. Got to keep it right and tight if Josephine is going to be riding with me.
Chase comes out to the garage, grabbing two beers from the fridge, and sits by me. He hands me one of them. I pull Josephine’s business card from my back pocket and hand it to him along with my phone.
“I was wondering when you would ask me to set up tracking on her,” Chase says, turning towards the bench to fire up his laptop. “I know this is standard procedure for any of our crew members, but she better not fuck up my tech room in the clubhouse if she finds out about this, because I’ll come after you.”
I laugh out loud before returning to work on my bike. “I owe you one. Might as well gather any intel on her for me when you’re running the background check. I want to know anything and everything, especially about this fucking ex of hers.”
“Uh-huh,” Chase mumbles as he works, his tattooed knuckles flying across the keys.
After working in silence for well over an hour, Chase clears his throat. “You’re really into this chick, hey?”
It was hard enough admitting to Gauge about my bizarre feelings for Josephine, and I’m not sure if I’m ready to open up to Chase as well. I’m still trying to figure it out for myself. I look over my shoulder at Chase, who has stopped working, waiting for my answer. Chase is one of my brothers and third-in-command. I can be upfront with him.
Grinding my teeth, I look back at my bike to avoid his reaction. “Yeah, I dig her,” I say, wiping the grease from my hand on a rag.
Chase snorts. “Not sure if I should say congratulations or give you my condolences.”
I laugh before turning back and deciding to joke with him. “Wait ‘till it happens to you, man.”
“Fat fucking chance. With you out of the running, there’s more pussy for me,” he says with a salacious grin.
Shaking my head, I finish wiping down my bike before picking up my beer to take a long swig. I grab a seat at the work bench next to Chase.
“She’s fucking hot, Atlas,” he murmurs beside me.
My eyes narrow and I lower my beer, glowering at my brother. Chase puts his hands up in surrender, pointing at his computer screen. “Don’t fucking kill me for stating the obvious, man.”
I crack my neck, trying to roll off my sudden anger toward Chase, and lean over to look at the screen. There’s my beautiful girl in multiple pictures, no doubt taken from her social media accounts. Many are of her at the beach. There are some of her doing a road race of sorts, with a man running alongside her. Others have her posing with groups of various people, maybe family, maybe friends or coworkers.
Aside from her, there’s one repeating figure in over half of the pictures—a baby-faced tool of a man who looks like he would get blown over if you breathed on him. Tall, but nowhere near my six-five, and lanky, with dirty-blond hair and dull-blue eyes. Dressed like a fucking uptight priss. Bet he has Palmolive hands, too.
Feeling pretty good in comparison to this preppy weakling ex-boyfriend of hers, I sit back in my chair and smirk. If this is who my pixie dated before, I’ve fucking won gold. I will give her everything she has been missing. I will more than make up for where he neglected her sweet body and soul.
“I didn’t even need to hack into her social media accounts. She has everything public. She should
make this stuff private.” Chase shakes his head in disbelief. “I can do it from here, but she would eventually notice.”
Concerned, my brows pull together. She really needs to be more careful with these sorts of things. “I’ll figure out a way to bring up social media privacy with her.” I know I won’t feel at ease until she changes her settings.
Chase hands my phone back and points to the screen. “It’s the same app we use for all our men.”
My thumb hits the app and I see she’s at home, which brings me comfort, knowing where she is. Part of me knows tracking her is wrong, but the bigger, more protective part of me justifies my actions as being sound. If I’m getting involved on any level more than my typical one-night stand, it’s crucial for her safety. I’m on too many people’s hit lists not to have eyes on her at all times.
Chase gives me a pointed look. “You know you’ll have to tell her you’re tracking her phone.”
I nod. “If this shit gets serious, I’ll tell her. There’s no sense in having her freak out now. This is for her protection, and she won’t understand at the moment.”
“Probably not.” Chase juts his chin out toward my cell. “I took the liberty of changing your backdrop and lock screen, too.”
Swiping around on my phone, I see Chase added a beach picture of my pixie in a skimpy white bikini as my new wallpaper. Yeah, I totally know why Chase blurted out she’s hot. This image alone is enough to keep me company on my future missions away from her. “Thanks, brother.”
“Anytime, brother,” Chase says, closing his laptop and taking a pull from his beer. “I’ve given you access to her private emails, social media accounts, text messages, contacts, bank accounts, medical records, etc.”
“Jesus! I didn’t ask for all of that.”
Chase rolls his eyes at me. “You told me anything and everything. I delivered. Don’t act like you’re not curious and wouldn’t snoop anyways. I saved you time and the risk of getting caught. It’s not like you wouldn’t demand to see this shit from her when this thing you two have turns out to be something. If you don’t want to dig through her stuff, it’s cool, but if you need to for whatever reason, you have access.”