Dream Spinner (Dream Team Book 3)

by Kristen Ashley

  We belted up and were on our way.

  As this happened, I thought that it sucked, this guy was screwing with him and me, Boone and Ryn.

  It sucked my alone time and studio time was gone again.

  And it sucked that, because of this, I wasn’t able to cook for Axl that night.

  I hadn’t cooked for him yet, and truth be told, my cooking wasn’t all that much to write home about, but it wasn’t the worst.

  And I wanted to do it for him.

  I forged into the glum silence.

  “Let me guess, you didn’t find him.”

  “Nope.”

  “You will. It’s just been a day,” I reassured.

  “This guy is a shit Dom for fun, and he’s an insurance adjuster for work. He’s not a master criminal. We should have had him in an hour. He’s nowhere to be found.”

  Oh boy.

  “Well, maybe he knows who he’s dealing with and taking precautions,” I suggested.

  “Yeah,” he muttered, making it clear he was unconvinced.

  Back to the reassurance. “Tomorrow is another day.”

  “Yeah, and we were gonna kick back and grill some burgers with Mo while you women did your thing with the shower. That’s off because we gotta find this guy.”

  Another reason to be angry with Laszlo Kovack.

  And since he’d racked up quite a list, I fell out of Reassurance Zone and slid into Annoyed Zone.

  “This guy is such a jerk,” I snapped.

  “Agreed.”

  “And I don’t get him,” I kept bitching. “I mean, none of this makes sense, the latest of which is you guys can’t find him. But I’ve been thinking on it all day, and I cannot buy the leap from him being pissed at Boone for sharing justifiably how he felt about what this guy did to Ryn, to him bothering you and me. If he’s mad at Boone and Ryn, not that I want him to take that out on Boone and Ryn, still, why wouldn’t he take it out on Boone and Ryn? How do I factor into all of this? And you?”

  Axl said nothing, but the air in the car had shifted.

  It felt tingly.

  “Axl?” I called.

  “Shit,” he whispered.

  “What?” I asked.

  “So caught up in what he was doin’ to you, didn’t see it,” he said.

  “What?” I repeated.

  “It’s a setup.”

  “Pardon?”

  “You were right, my dad was baiting me.”

  I was perplexed.

  How did we get from talking about Kovack to something about a setup to him mentioning his dad?

  “Okay,” I said slowly.

  “He doesn’t give a shit what anyone thinks about him. He has no problem being an asshole. But he knows I do. It’s a game. He wants me on my back foot. He wants to manipulate me into being an asshole. And if I take the bait, he wins. And I end up not only feeling like an asshole but feeling like a chump because I got played.”

  “Yes,” I agreed, still confused.

  Axl didn’t enlighten me.

  He was digging in his side-leg cargo pocket for his phone.

  He handed it to me and said, “Code seven, three, three, nine, two, eight. Call Boone.”

  I couldn’t be ecstatic that not only did I have the key to his house, he had mine, we had drawers (as yet to be filled, still), but he also just gave me the code to his phone.

  The vibe of his voice made me engage his cell and do as he said.

  It was connected to his Jeep, thus rang in the car, but it only did this once before Boone answered, “All cool, brother?”

  “It’s a setup,” Axl repeated.

  “Sorry?” Boone asked.

  “They got eyes on us. They know about this guy. And I’m not sure it’s this guy doing it. They’re leading us to this guy. Makes no fucking sense he’s stalking Hattie, tagging me in on that, maybe trying to tweak me, thinkin’ I’d have an issue with the bent of his threats to me, instead of targeting Ryn ’cause he’s got a history with her, or you, because you got up in his shit. Hattie should have nothing to do with this. Me either.”

  “Fuck,” Boone said.

  In other words, whatever Axl was talking about, Boone agreed.

  But Axl wasn’t done laying it out.

  “This guy can see her at work, follow her home. But getting her cell number and email takes resources. Hacking a computer takes resources. Becoming a ghost takes resources. Resources this guy does not have.”

  “Fuck,” Boone clipped.

  Yup.

  He agreed.

  “They went after Hattie to drag me in, pull you in through that and Ryn’s history with him, and through you and me, get up in Hawk’s face, all to manipulate us into doing what we were going to do if we found him today. We rolled Eddie and Hank into it, something they could guess we’d do. So it’s a stretch, but not too much of one to tag them in. They knew we were investigating it. Even though Eddie and Hank now are also investigating it, they didn’t put a stop to us doing the same. You laid him out, statute of limitations is not expired on that first assault. Add another one, we’re vulnerable. If they’re pissed enough at us, and they’re pissed at us, if they got hooks in the DA, and they seem to have hooks in everybody, we’re fucked. Assault charges for you and me, and Hawk, Eddie, Hank, even other members of the crew who knew about this could get done for conspiracy or aiding and abetting.”

  I wasn’t sure what he was talking about.

  Though I knew none of it was good.

  “Christ, makes sense,” Boone said.

  “B lied to Aug and me, brother. She mentioned the women. She said it was just about us being off the market. It wasn’t. They’re on the offense. They intended to use the women to get to us, and this is how they’re doing it. They’re trying to force our play to take us out.”

  I didn’t know who “they” were, but I knew I didn’t like them.

  Axl kept going.

  “If they did a direct assault, we’d keep our shit and plan accordingly. Hit one of our women, straight thinking goes out the window. Even Hawk was off his game today, he was so pissed.”

  “Motherfucker,” Boone bit.

  “Hunt is off for Kovack tonight, and maybe permanently,” Axl said. “I’ll call this in to Hawk in the morning and we’ll meet.”

  “Yeah,” Boone agreed. “Good grab, Axe.”

  “Yeah,” Axl said curtly. “Later.”

  “Later, bud.”

  The call disconnected and I handed Axl his phone.

  “Was I supposed to hear any of that?” I asked.

  “Some of it, no, but since it pertains to you and you’re not gonna say anything to anybody, it doesn’t matter.”

  Point taken to keep my mouth shut.

  Next up.

  “Assault?” I asked quietly.

  “With their gig, in BDSM, trust is paramount. This guy put Ryn in a position where he could do absolutely anything he wanted to do to her and she was helpless to stop him. In that world and any other, that amounts to rape. Ryn’s tough, but it understandably fucked with her. But even if she shrugged it off, that’s enough to send Boone over the edge. The fact this guy could be doing it to others, he had a statement to make. He made it.”

  “Were you two going to find him in order to—?”

  “Definitely.”

  I said nothing to that.

  “Tease that out, honey,” he said in a gentler tone. “Ryn takes that to the cops, how do you think that’d go? She decided to have sex with that guy, in their scene, and from the cops’ perspective, they could think it’s just that she didn’t like the way he did it. Even if they found some charge to lay on him, she put that in front of a jury, a defense lawyer would chew her up. She consented but didn’t like the way it went. The fact he rendered her defenseless in a way she did not consent to, and doing it, probably scared the shit out of her, wouldn’t matter. A case could be made that was what she wanted. And maybe it was on the bones of it, but the way he did it, it absolutely wasn’t. And he�
�s free to keep doing this to women? No.”

  He was right.

  No.

  “Okay,” I said.

  “Okay,” he replied.

  I took in a deep breath.

  And got to something else that was now very heavily weighing on my mind.

  “It isn’t lost on me there’s an element of danger to your job,” I began, and stopped.

  “Mm-hmm,” Axl hummed in an encouraging way for me to go on.

  “And it’s very much you. We haven’t talked about it, but I think it feeds something in you.”

  “It does,” he confirmed.

  “Okay, that may be for a deeper discussion later. But for now, with whatever you were just talking about, are you in more danger than normal?”

  He reached his hand out to me.

  Like always when he did that, I took it.

  When he had it, he said, “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay. The guys are going to be okay. We got our teeth into something that’s tough and we aren’t finding it easy to tear it free. But we’ll get there, and we’ll be good when it’s done. Promise.”

  “Can you make that promise?” I asked.

  He didn’t hesitate.

  “Yes.”

  It was because this was Axl.

  And the zero hesitation helped.

  But I believed him.

  “Okay,” I repeated.

  “Okay,” he replied.

  We were quiet the rest of the way home.

  Only Axl was quiet on the way into the house. I baby-talked Cleo when I saw her and Axl learned I not only called her shmoochmagooch, but also Supreme Queen Grayfur and Sleekmeister General.

  So he wasn’t entirely quiet.

  He chuckled.

  We did the couple’s bathroom dance when we brushed our teeth and I moisturized.

  We both changed into sleepwear in the bedroom, and we both tossed our clothes on the chair as we undressed.

  But when we got in bed, on his back, Axl tucked me to his side and that was it.

  I had my head resting on his shoulder, my hand on his ridged stomach, and I didn’t know what to do about this situation.

  Because I wanted to have sex.

  And if he wanted it, he went for it.

  I always wanted it from him, so I gave it.

  Now, I wanted it and I thought maybe he needed it.

  He’d had a frustrating day. He needed sleep.

  And maybe connection with me.

  But I didn’t know how to initiate intimacy because I’d never done it.

  And if he wasn’t doing anything, did that mean he didn’t want it?

  I licked my lips, rubbed them together, then decided to go for it.

  If he said he wasn’t in the mood, he just wasn’t.

  Things were heavy.

  It didn’t mean anything more and I knew one thing for certain.

  I loved that he was into me and showed it in a lot of ways, and one of those ways was copious, and that was sexually.

  So we had an off night, we’d have more.

  On the other hand, guys were guys, but they probably needed that sometimes too. The “that” being your partner sharing they found you attractive by sharing they wanted to have sex with you.

  Right.

  I pulled it together, slid my hand to the top of the waistband of his sleep pants and trailed my nails lightly along it, tipping my head back and whispering, “I wanna go down on you. Is that okay?”

  As he dipped his head to put his face in mine, he took my hand in his, pushed it under the waistband and wrapped it around his hardening cock.

  And thrillingly unnecessarily, he growled, “It is absolutely okay.”

  I smiled, slid up a little to touch my mouth to his then I touched it to his throat.

  He used my hand to stroke his dick.

  Okay.

  Nice.

  As I made my way down his chest, though, he pulled our hands out and adjusted himself in bed at the same time tugging down his pajamas.

  He tossed them to the side, positioned on his ass with his back against the headboard, and he spread his legs.

  Knees cocked.

  Axl Pantera laid out for the taking.

  Okay.

  Um …

  Niiiiiiice.

  I moved, curled up, took hold and went in.

  Seriously, my mouth full of his cock?

  Delicious.

  That purr I loved came from his chest, his legs tensed, and then he relaxed, his hand going in my hair.

  And as I blew him, he played a lot with my hair, arranging it across his lap in a way that made me clench and fight squirming.

  Because it was like I got to touch him without, in a certain sense, me being the one who touched him. Also, I loved that he dug my hair so much. And last but so not least, it was just plain hot to be draped around him in that way while I was sucking his dick.

  Eventually, however, after a good deal of sucking, licking, rolling the tip, pumping with a twist (I’d discovered he liked that a whole lot), his hand fisted in my hair and he started pulsing up into my mouth.

  Oh yes.

  Taking his gentle face fucking, and getting into it, I couldn’t fight the squirm, and even though Axl was purring consistently now, he didn’t miss it.

  “Shorts off, get up here,” he ordered roughly.

  Without delay, I released him with a hard draw and a final stroke, sat up, pulled down my sleep shorts and panties, fell to a hip, kicked them off and climbed right on.

  Axl helped, holding his cock ready for me.

  I glided down, taking it.

  “Yes,” I breathed.

  “Fuck yes,” he corrected, his hands going up my cami at the back and around.

  He palmed both my breasts.

  I started riding.

  He tweaked my nipples and warned thickly, “Need you to get there fast, Hattie.”

  I started riding faster.

  He squeezed my nipples.

  I bucked.

  “No, baby, finger to clit,” he corrected.

  Could I do that riding him? Touch myself right in front of him?

  I put my finger to my clit and trembled head to toe.

  I could do that.

  “Yeah,” he whispered, rolling both nipples.

  Oh my God, yeah.

  I bounced on him, up quick, slamming down hard.

  His hands slid up, my arms were forced up, and the cami was gone.

  He then grabbed both cheeks of my ass, gripping them in a touch that was over the edge of gentle, and I jolted and started to ride wild.

  “That’s it, fuck me, baby,” he grunted.

  Yes.

  I understood it.

  That hold on my ass was possessive.

  That wasn’t my ass.

  It was his.

  I was his.

  And I loved being his.

  I rode harder.

  “Christ,” his fingers dug in, “Fuck yeah. Ride me, Hattie.”

  I rode. I soared. I came and did it hard, crying out, catching him at his neck, grinding down.

  I didn’t stay down.

  I lost him when he pulled me off, planted me on my knees, positioned behind me, shoved a hand in my back so I arched for him and both my hands were forced to brace against the wall, and he pistoned back in.

  Oh my God.

  Amazing.

  “Axl,” I gasped.

  He wrapped an arm across my chest, fingers at the side of the base of my neck, holding me steady as he drilled me.

  Oh my …

  God.

  “Axl,” I whimpered, and like a shot, came again.

  He squeezed my breast as I swayed my hips to meet his thrusts, reeling from my orgasm.

  His hand went down over my belly and in between my legs to cup us as he fucked me.

  “Best goddamn tits, juiciest fucking pussy,” he growled into my neck.

  Oh God.

  Could I come again?

  Even i
f I wasn’t quite done with the last one?

  I was almost there.

  “Baby,” I moaned.

  He pinched my clit.

  I whinnied as I exploded.

  He purred, then grunted, then shoved his face in my neck before his head jerked back.

  He drove up and groaned, deep and rumbly.

  Best sound ever.

  Ever.

  Honestly, I liked his orgasms even better than mine.

  No joke.

  He sat back on his calves, taking me with him, so I sat on his dick.

  And his hands went back to my breasts.

  It was not lost on me he was a tit man.

  And since I was ultra-sensitive there, it also wasn’t lost on me this was (high) on the long-and-getting-longer list of how we were compatible.

  “Seriously,” he murmured into my neck, giving gentle, kneading squeezes that were way better than a post-fuck cuddle. “Best tits ever, baby. Beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” I wheezed.

  I was pretty sure I felt him smile.

  “And sweet, juicy pussy,” he continued. “So goddamn wet, you’re all over my thighs.”

  I shivered.

  “Even when I’m fuckin’ you, my mouth is watering with the need to eat you.”

  Another shiver.

  “I can’t touch you, honey,” I voiced my complaint.

  “No,” he agreed, and didn’t move.

  Oh my.

  Yes, I was his.

  I loved that.

  One hand left a breast, moved over my belly, which normally, I didn’t like. It wasn’t concave or even flat, and I’d always been conscious of it.

  But he palmed it with the same reverence he gave my breast and any notion of embarrassment or discomfort that might have formed vanished in an instant.

  He then slid his hand back up, the other one moved, and they changed tits as he crossed them over me, but he still held the weight cupped in his hands.

  “Before I had you, would jack myself, thinking of you sucking me off with all this gorgeous hair all over my lap,” he shared.

  “Honey,” I whispered.

  “I think with that ride, Hattie, you broke us both in. We’ll find time where we got a good amount of it to get creative.”

  Oh yeah.

  “Okay,” I agreed.

  His hands went to my waist, he pulled me up and got out of bed.

  Then he hooked me with an arm and my knees skidded across his sheets before he swung me up in both of his arms and carried me, not in a fireman’s hold, but groom and bride, to the bathroom.