by Winters, KB
“And how the fuck did you find that out?”
Shit. I should’ve kept my mouth shut. “The fucker broke in to my apartment.”
“Chance. This time next week I want Leon gone. Timbuktu or ten feet under, I don’t give a fuck. Gone. Got me?”
“Yeah, I got you.” Thanks to Leon’s stalker fucking tendencies, I now had to make him a priority in my life. Again. I stood up to go. “Later,” I said and grabbed my gear.
“Handle it,” Curt said as a final warning before the door slammed behind me.
I drove home with my thoughts bouncing between memories of Slayer’s hands doing magical things to my body and planning my next move with Leon. I would handle it this time, and I wouldn’t bring our long history into it. It didn’t matter that Leon and I managed to date through one and a half tours in the desert on behalf of the U.S. Army, and it didn’t matter that I used to dream of having his blond-haired babies. That Leon didn’t exist anymore. He was buried somewhere in the desert, but it had taken me far too long to really realize that.
This Leon? All cracked out on meth or opiates or whatever the hell else he was ingesting these days.
I parked my bike and made my way up the path to my front door. My mind was a million miles away because I didn’t hear any footsteps coming up behind me, just a voice.
“Where in the hell have you been baby? I’ve been looking all over for you?”
Speak of the red-eyed devil. I spun around on a dime. “Leon!” I snarled. Man, was I pissed. He was the last son of a bitch I wanted to see right now. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He frowned, apparently genuinely shocked that I didn’t want to see him. When was he ever going to listen to me? “I told you, babe, I been looking for you.”
I kept my curled fists on my hips so I wouldn’t do damage to his punk ass. “Why? I told you to stay away. Do you have a death wish?”
His lips curled into that charming grin I used to find irresistible. Now? I just wanted to break his fucking nose.
“You ain’t gonna hurt me babe.”
He reached out to touch my face and I smacked his hand away.
“Don’t be that way Chance.”
“Leon,” I said, trying to keep my voice under control. “Listen to me and please, for the love of all things holy, please hear me. Stay away from me and stay away from the Lords. If I see you lurking around again like some fucking stalker—”
“You bitch!” Before I could prepare for it, his fist came down on my cheek. It didn’t take me down, but the hit made my knees wobble.
Too bad the motherfucker didn’t actually take me down, because I was a fast learner . I dropped my helmet with my left hand and reached for my butterfly knife with the other. Leon, the stupid fuck, still had a smile on his face until the metal touched his skin.
“You ever put your fucking crackhead hands on me again, Leon, I’ll kill you myself.”
He wasn’t convinced, not yet and that was my fault. His leash was too long, and I let him roam unchecked too many times. “If you could kill me, babe, I’d be dead already.”
Yeah, that was my fucking fault, too. He thought it was because, well, what the hell else was he supposed to think? The MC let him go because he was a liability, not because of betrayal, so death seemed extreme. Now, not so much.
“I already told you that’s a mistake I won’t repeat again, Leon. Get the fuck outta here.”
He leaned in close as if to kiss me, as if he’d forgotten he just hit me. “Chance, please. You know you love me.”
“No, I don’t, Leon. I don’t even hate you. I just want you gone. If you don’t go willingly, Curt will step in and handle things his way.”
We both knew what that meant, even though Leon was determined to pretend everything was fine. Maybe it was the drugs or maybe this was what happened to a man when he lost everything.
He got a pleading tone in his voice and said, “I love you, Chance. I’m sorry.”
Jesus, Mary and Joseph. When will he learn?
His apologies were worthless. Hell, they were less than worthless. I’d accepted them thousands of times over the years, making excuses for him and allowing him to use his medical problems as excuses. It was too much for too long, and the teary apology he issued now only pissed me off.
I grabbed my helmet and slid it on before I walked away and hopped back on my bike.
“Don’t walk away from me. Chance! Don’t fucking walk away from me!”
I hit the start button and my bike roared to life. I checked over my right shoulder and left him in a cloud of dust and probably even more pissed off.
Good. Being pissed off would make all of this easier.
Chapter Eleven
Slayer
“Hey, Big Sexy. You summoned me?” The sound of Peaches’ cheeky tone made me smile. I turned away from the goat pen, filled with goats thank you very fucking much, to greet her.
“I did. Thanks for coming and without any extra ears.” I loved Maisie, the kid was as cute as kids came, and she was always happy to see her Uncle Slayer. But damn the girl had a big mouth. Never met a secret she didn’t want to share.
Peaches tossed her head back and laughed. “Baby girl does have the gift of gab, doesn’t she? She’s growing up too fast. Scary times.” The smartest thing Gunnar did was make the Sin Room as far from her as possible. Who knows what she might overhear?
“Any-hoo, what did you need? And why so secret?”
“I need you to do your computer wizard shit before I take this to Gunnar.” I knew it was bad protocol to go around my Prez’s back about this shit. I’d sworn Ford to secrecy, though, under threat of death, and I needed to do some digging before I shit all over the peace Gunnar had fought so hard to achieve.
She took a step back, eyes wide and growing more pissed off by the second. “I’m not keeping secrets from my man, Slayer. Don’t even ask it.”
Fuck. “I’m not asking you to keep a secret. Just listen, will ya? Fuuuck.”
She took her sweet ass time answering, studying my face to see if I was trying to pull her into some shit that might disturb her family.
“Okay. I’m listening,” she said, but her tone of voice let me know she wasn’t happy about it.
“Good.” I took a deep breath and told her about my run in with Rocco. Both times, going into detail about the most recent episode. “He left his number, and I checked it out. He’s staying at the Desert Palm Motel in Oakley.”
Peaches smirked and rolled her eyes. “What do you want me to do, see if he was being serviced by Gunnar’s mother nine months before Maisie’s birthday?”
“Pretty much, yeah? Can you do that?”
She rolled her eyes and snatched the sheet of paper from my hands. “Of course I can, the question is if I should?”
“I get that, but if this guy is just trying to get some money out of Gunnar, I can put a bullet in his head, and we can move on. If he really is who he’s claiming to be, Gunnar needs all the ammo he can get. That you can dig up for him.”
She glared and pointed at me. “Low blow using my love of Gunnar and my ego against me.”
“End goal achieved,” I told her with a smile. “You’ll take care of this?”
“I will. Whether I’ll keep it from Gunnar or not remains to be seen. I’ll give you a heads up.”
“Yeah, thanks. You’re a real peach.”
She glared and laughed. “I’ll let you get away with that because you still look a bit monstrous with all that bruising. You should have Aspen whip up one of those disgusting salves of hers. They work.”
“Hell no. The one she gave Cruz smelled like dirty socks and asshole. I’d rather let nature do her thing than walk around smelling like a fucking toilet.”
“I’ll be sure not to tell her that. Want to come have dinner with us? Stone not might not even cry at the sight of you anymore.”
“Thanks but I’ve got plans. Sort of.”
Peaches rolled her eyes. “I’ll warn t
he townsfolk to guard their panties.”
“Don’t worry, I’m only interested in the girls who leave their panties at home where they belong.” Her laugh blended with mine and echoed in the open field.
“I hope you’re wrong about this guy.”
“I am too, that’s why I don’t want you to tell Gunnar. Yet.”
“Tell Gunnar what?”
That deep angry booming voice belonged to the man himself. Though neither of us heard him approach, we both turned around casually. He was in a bad mood and spoiling for a fight.
“Tell. Gunnar. What?”
Peaches snorted and shook her head, hands fisted on her hips as her temper flared. “That Slayer and I are madly in love and running away together. Obviously.”
She was either stupid or brave, I didn’t know which.
“Peaches!” Gunnar said with a bit of a scowl. Apparently, he wasn’t in a joking mood.
“What? That’s what you’re getting at, right? Slayer and I are sneaking out to Hazel’s stupid fucking goat pen to have sex twenty minutes after I polished off the world’s biggest Ruben sandwich.”
She looked around with a frown and then turned her gaze up at me. “Babe you forgot the blanket.”
Stupid. She was definitely stupid. I turned to Gunnar. “I asked Peaches to do something personal for me and to keep it from you. Personal but not involving my cock,” I clarified with a smile.
“Talk,” he insisted.
Peaches groaned and rolled her eyes at Gunnar. “What do you want to do, Slayer? We can tell him now or let him think the worst of us for…how long do you think we can keep this up?”
I didn’t even want to think about it. A pissed off Gunnar would make sure I worked the fucking front desk every day for the next month. Or two. “As long as it takes.”
“Perfect. Then he’ll have a lot to make up for.” She gave her husband a devilish smile, and I was very, very happy that Peaches was on my side. “To tell or not to tell, that is the question.”
“Seriously?” Gunnar glared at his wife-to-be, half angry and half filled with affection.
“Some dude came around asking questions about the ranch, and he’s claiming to be Maisie’s dad.”
“Real smooth, dude,” Peaches snort-laughed and stage whispered beside me, shaking her head in disappointment. “Folded like a cheap suit.”
“Thanks for nothing, Peach.”
“Anytime. I’ll look into this and let you boys talk.”
“Traitor,” I called after her, but Peaches only laughed and waved.
“Don’t ask my woman to keep secrets from me.” Yeah, he was looking for a fight. The question was why.
“I didn’t ask her to keep it a secret. I asked her to dig first so I’d have something to bring to you when I told you. All the problems aren’t yours alone to solve, man, no matter how good you are at it.”
“Fuck, her father? Really?”
“That what he says but I ain’t sure. That’s why I called Peaches.”
“I appreciate that.” But he still didn’t like it. “You comin’ up for dinner?”
“Nah, I spent an hour chillin’ with Maisie, and now I’m off to hunt down some pussy.” And there was a sweet little brunette from Oakley who had just what I wanted.
“Have fun. Be safe.”
“Always, brother.” I held a hand out and Gunnar clasped it and brought me in for a bro-hug.
Gunnar went toward the gleaming white house in the distance, and I went the other way, towards my bike. Towards Oakley.
Towards Chance.
Chapter Twelve
Ella Mae
Three days of bliss, that was what I’d had since my last run-in with Leon, and I enjoyed it. Mostly because I wasn’t foolish enough to think that one flick of my wrist had done what months of threats hadn’t. But I took enjoyment where I could and three days without Leon had me feeling good. Relaxed. Focused.
To celebrate being so relaxed and focused, I started with a long hot bath complete with fizzy bombs and bubble bath. After slathering my skin with lavender-scented body cream, I decided to have a little fun with my favorite indulgence. Lacy, silky sexy underthings were my weakness. Also, my armor.
I had a special armoire just for my lingerie, and every time I opened it was like choosing my favorite piece of candy from the candy store. I reached for a black lace corset, threaded with purple silk because it was sexy and dirty, perfect for an evening with my man Jack Daniels and the Mindhunter boys on Netflix. As I padded down the hall toward said bottle of Jack, I could admit the look was ruined by the fuzzy black slippers on my feet. I wasn’t expecting company tonight though, so I opted for comfort.
And warmth.
With Jack in one hand and a liter of Coke in the other, I made my way to the sofa and got comfy, safe in the knowledge that all doors and windows were locked, deadbolts included. The motion light was on out front and I’d enabled the security system and checked it twice. No one could get in, and even if they did, I was heavily armed. Ready for battle. It was the only way I could get tipsy and watch the Feds chase down serial killers. In peace.
It was like some sort of universal fucking indicator that the moment I thought or spoke of peace, someone or something came along to disturb it. Ruin it. The doorbell rang. Twice.
I glanced at the menus of my two favorite delivery options and frowned because I hadn’t placed my order yet, which meant I hadn’t invited the guest on the other side of the door. My stomach clenched at the thought that Leon would ruin my celebration of three Leon-free fucking days. After the second knock, I went to the door, sneaking a look through the peephole and relaxed. At least I didn’t have to reach for my gun.
Hopefully.
I pulled the door open with a neutral expression on my face, totally at odds with the way my heart raced and my pulse kicked into high gear.
“Slayer. What are you doing here?”
His gaze was pure black with heat as he tried to figure out what to focus on first, my tits or my legs.
“Holy fucking shit, Chance.” His chest heaved, and I swear his long brown hair blew back like a breeze had come from nowhere.
It wasn’t exactly ‘hello, beautiful,’ but my body didn’t care. She was on fire, wet with desire and ready for the good shit. I already knew from personal experience that Slayer had the good shit.
“Good enough for me,” I growled and grabbed a fistful of his black t-shirt to yank him inside, fixing my lips to his before either one of us could ruin the moment with words.
His heavy boot kicked the front door closed, lips fused to mine in a kiss hot enough to singe my skin, growling as his rough hands slid up and down my body. The friction of those callouses sent a shock of electricity right between my thighs. The kiss went on and on, a rough clashing of teeth and lips, tongues tangling inelegantly in the intensity of our coming together.
“Chance,” he moaned before he pulled back. He growled and then his tongue and his teeth marked a path of heat across my collarbone and down to my cleavage.
I clung to him, unwilling to let go while his hands and his mouth set me on fire. That’s exactly what I wanted to do to him, and I grabbed a handful of that permanently mussed chocolate hair and yanked him back.
“Slayer,” I growled and he smiled, a dark grin that had my pussy clenching with need.
“Chance,” he said with a happy note that made my heart dance.
For just a moment, though. The sound of my name falling from his lips did terribly dirty things to me. I licked a trail of heat from the base of his throat all the way up to his chin, purring as I went. “Fuck!” I hissed.
“That’s the idea.” His words were dark and playful, setting the right mood for the moment. The low rumbling laugh of his hit me in all the right places, sending a shiver of heat down my spine.
“This fucking outfit,” he growled as he took a step back, chest heaving and nostrils flaring. The line between anger and desire was blurred and it looked good on Slayer.
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“You don’t like it?”
“Fuck no, I love it. It’ll look even better on the floor.” Then his mouth was on my neck and moving down to my shoulders, all the while his hands cupped and grabbed everywhere he could. I shut my eyes and tilted my head back, giving him easy access to the skin he was so eager to mark and singe. The short rough grunts of frustration sounded at his inability to handle the tiny hooks down my back.
“Fuck. I’ll replace it.” Before his words could register, the sound of fabric tearing sounded in the air.
“Hey, that’s fuckin’ lace,” I whined.
“I’ll get you another one,” he growled, gaze focused on my now bare tits for half a second before his warm, wicked mouth descended. He licked a tantalizing circle of fire around the darkened raspberry tips of my nipples, a perfect circle that kept me breathless and overheated.
“Better,” I panted and yanked his t-shirt over his head, happy to let my eyes feast once again on his beautiful tanned skin and colorful artwork. Then he was naked, and I was naked, and the only thing I could focus on was his body. His pleasure. My pleasure.
Fuck, just pleasure in general.
We were stuck somewhere between the front door and the living room in a long dimly lit hall that was too small for one person let alone two. Somehow we made it work, mostly because Slayer had my back to the wall, his big body pressed against mine while his mouth made sweet love to my tits like they belonged to Marie Antoinette or some shit. He made his way down my body, leaving light kisses and not so light nibbles, letting his teeth scrape down my body.
“Slayer,” I groaned when his tongue dipped between my thighs, not enough to make me scream but just enough to let him know he had my full attention. “Fuck,” I wailed in pleasure.
“Soon,” he growled and slipped his tongue back inside, spreading my legs so far apart that he was the only thing keeping me upright. He tongued my slit and sucked my clit, hard and rough. No finesse this time, like he couldn’t get enough.
Hell, I couldn’t get enough either.
His mouth and tongue moved at a punishing pace, barely giving me time to catch my breath before an orgasm barreled down on me, with his broad shoulders holding all of my weight. “Oh fuck!”