“Turn the fuck around, beautiful.”
“Why?” Stupid question on my part, maybe, but I've just given my first blow job. Well, sort of. I was kind of hoping he might come in my mouth, but I'm certainly not going to say that aloud, now am I? I wonder if pulling out every trick in the book (quite literally, since I pulled my inspiration from romance novels) was a good idea, or if I've shown all my cards too early.
Austin doesn't let me brood long.
“So, I can fuck you,” he says, grabbing me by the shoulders and turning me around, putting his hand against the center of my back, so he can push me over. He grabs my hips next, pulling them back, so that my face is planted against the floor and my ass is up in the air. The ugly fuchsia dress comes up and my panties … I hear the sound of rending fabric, and then they're just gone, leaving me open and wide and a bit breezy.
“Sparks,” I say because these people seem to like to call each other by last name. I see a silver package hit the floor near my face and know that he's got on a condom already. Convenient for me, maybe, but my sex ed teacher always said to avoid men who carry condoms with them. If they've got 'em, means they use 'em too damn much, she'd told us. She was promptly fired three days later. Did I mention my school has the highest rate of teen pregnancy in the state? Hard to know how to protect yourself if nobody tells you how.
“What?” he says, voice pitched low. I can feel his cock pushing at the edges of my opening, teasing me, promising me dirty nights and sweaty days. I have a feeling that Austin and I are going to get to know each other real, real well.
“I forgot.”
“Good, because I don't like waiting.”
Austin thrusts into me with a grunt, slamming his hips against my ass so hard that my cheek scrapes the carpet. I put my hands up to steady myself and push back into him, moaning at the sensation of fullness as his body bumps against the end of mine. This is our first time doing it in private, so I let myself go, opening my lips and letting out whatever sounds want to come. I'm surprised to find that sex is like a chorus of devils, all that groaning and whimpering and moaning. And then there's that slapping sound as Austin's sweaty body grinds against mine. It'd be terribly embarrassing if I wasn't so wrapped up in it.
“You like to be ridden, don't you, Cross?” Austin snarls as he digs his fingers into my hips and makes me scream. “Tell me how much you like it or I'll stop.” Stop? Stop? Oh goodness, no, he can't stop.
“I love it,” I whisper, trying to speak past the lump in my throat and the ache in my belly. Austin makes me … nervous. And I like it. Love it. I swallow my trepidation and force my lips apart. “Ride me harder.” It comes out so softly that even I can barely hear the words.
“Oh?” Austin laughs, pausing his speedy rhythm to laugh at me. “I didn't quite hear you, darlin'. Say it again. Louder. Scream it.”
“Ride me harder!” The words burst out of my lips, drawn by my angst that he's actually going to stop, just to tease me. I don't know Austin Sparks yet, but that sort of seems like something he might do. He chuckles again and the vibration travels through me, making me shiver. I arch my back and start to see stars in my vision, glimmering bits of light that tell me I'm getting closer to my orgasm. One of my hands sneaks back between my legs and rubs my clit, sending me over the edge. “Don't stop,” I whimper. “Please don't stop.”
And then that's exactly what Austin does, pausing and relaxing his grip on my hips.
“Austin?” I ask, and I hate how needy my voice sounds.
“Open up, Sparks, or I'm coming in. We need you. Now.” I don't recognize the voice outside the door, but now that the thrills of pleasure have lulled, I can hear the pounding of a fist coming from the hallway.
“Fuck,” Austin snarls, sliding out of me suddenly. I collapse to the floor and roll over, trying to push my dress down, so I can at least pretend to be decent. “Sorry, babe,” he says, bending down and pressing a kiss against my lips that sears, leaving me burnt and aching for him. “There is some hardcore Triple M shit I've been dealing with.” He tosses his condom in the trash can next to the dresser and zips up his pants. Austin looks down at me and I can see from the stress in his neck and jaw that I'm not the only one brimming with tension.
“That's alright,” I whisper, not exactly sure how this whole biker gang thing works. Guess I'll be learning a whole bunch of new things on this journey.
“I'll back soon as I can,” he says with a wink.
I nod and try to smile as Austin opens the door and reveals a man with skin that's whiter than mine. His hair is black as coal and he's got eyes to match. I dislike him immediately.
“Kent, this better be fucking good,” Austin tells me as those dark eyes find mine and the greasiest smile I have ever seen on a human being lights the man's lips.
“This must be our new member?” he says and the sound of his voice gives me chills, stealing away the hot pleasure of Austin's body and leaving me cold. Whoever this guy is, I can't trust him. I use the bed to climb to my feet, glancing quickly at myself in the mirror as I pass. My hair is mussy and my lips swollen; my dress is wrinkled to hell, and it's pretty obvious that I've been up to no good, but I force my feet forward as Austin introduces me.
“Amy Cross meet Kent Diamond. Diamond, Cross. Shake hands and make pretty later. What's this about?” I pause behind Austin and admire the strong curve of his back, wishing my body wasn't so hot and bothered. This is horrible! I think, suddenly very aware of the origin of the term sexual tension. My spine feels rigid enough to snap and the muscles in my face are so taut they hurt. I want to punch something and scream at the same time. Ugh.
Kent watches me and both his dark brows raise up as he flicks his eyes to Austin and communicates solely with the look.
Austin growls and glances over his shoulder at me, softening the noise with a small smile that teases the scar on his lip.
“Stay here till I get back, babe.” He pauses and worries at his lip for a second. “And bolt the door behind me. If anybody shows up looking for me, tell 'em I'm with Kent.” I nod my head, but I don't speak. I don't think I can, not without begging Austin to stay and finish what he started.
“Got it,” I whisper as he leaves and slams the door shut behind him.
Kent takes me downstairs and out the front doors, down the block and into the parking garage before he finally opens his fucking mouth and tells me why he felt the need to interrupt my time with Cross. I'm of the mind to snap his skinny head off his broad shoulders, but I manage to control myself. Barely. I've still got the world's worst hard-on rubbing against the inside of my jeans. Doesn't exactly breed patience, now does it?
“What. The. Fuck.” This isn't a question from me, just a statement. It means that Kent, despite his position as President, better start talking or I'm going to leave and finish what I started.
“Walker knows,” he says, shrugging his shoulders like he can't even be bothered to come up with an explanation for that.
“The fuck?” I ask, patting my pockets down for a cigarette. “That we're moving in?”
“Yep.” Kent reaches into his back pocket and hands me a cig and a light. I snatch it from his hand and press the skinny stick between my lips. I'd much rather have my mouth pressed up against Amy's sweet spot, but in a bind, tobacco will do just fine.
“How?” He shrugs again, and I have to close my eyes to keep myself contained. “Only me, you, Mel, and I'm assuming Kimmi knew. Explain how that shit got back to Tray?” I open my eyes when I hear the sound of heels coming from across the parking garage. I glance over my shoulder and find Mel swaying her way towards us with Kimmi Reynolds in tow. The redhead isn't smiling, so I'm guessing that Diamond's already filled her in. She's got on a pair of dark jeans and a leather corset with Triple M's colors on the back of it. Her high heeled leather boots and dangling earrings used to bother me, but that was way back when I hadn't seen the girl in action. Me, I could never outrun the cops in heels like that, but Kimmi, she pulls it off. Sh
e's proven herself to the point where I no longer question what she wears to a job.
“Austin,” she says, nodding her chin at me. She doesn't acknowledge Kent. “So, um, what the hell is going on? Did you drag me out here just to tell me the bad news?”
“Actually,” Melissa says, pushing Kimmi aside with her shoulder and hanging on Kent like she's a Goddamn monkey or some shit. I swear to God, that bitch is hornier than I am. “We have a plan.”
“Oh, do tell,” Kimmi says, crossing her arms and staring at me from bright, green eyes. She never looks Kent or Mel in the face, says they're not worth the effort. I think Kimmi would be president if she could. Kent's got some hardcore loyal fans in the group though, people who don't know about the inner workings of Triple M. It'd take something pretty damn big to knock him and Mel off their thrones.
“Walker and his group are planning to go in at midnight.” Kent smiles his croc smile, big and ugly. “You're going to beat him to it.”
“Splendid,” Kimmi says, rubbing her temple with stiff fingers. “In an age of heightened security, we're going to break our decade old, fail proof plan, so that we can beat Tray Walker and Bested by Crows? Sounds like a real good way to go down and take the whole MC with us.” She smiles tightly and shakes her head.
I'd love to jump right in with my own arguments, tell Kent and Mel to go screw themselves, but then I think of Mireya and Gaine and Beck. If we don't go, Kent's going to send somebody else in our places. Besides, for what he did to Sawyer, Tray deserves to have the rug pulled out from under him.
“I've got an idea,” I say and Kimmi snaps her gaze over to mine, eyes questioning.
“Yeah?”
“Let's do it after dark, soon as we get the chance. We'll take what we need and leave the rest.” I hold up a hand before Kimmi can argue with me. Mel and Kent are both smiling stupidly. I hate that they think I'm wrapped around their finger, and it really pisses me off that they used Mireya's secret to try and hook me harder. Fuckers. “Let's leave them a little surprise behind. I mean, hey, if they take the fall for our gig, that'll get 'em off our backs.” I pause. “At least for a little while.”
Kent's already snapping his fingers.
“I like the way you think, Sparks. Do what you need to do to prepare.”
“So that's it?” Kimmi says, still looking at me and only me. “We're just gonna charge in there at dusk and try to frame another gang? Pardon my French, but that plan sounds kind of … ” Kimmi twirls her black nailed finger around for a moment. “Fucked up. Austin,” she pleads, leaning in as Kent starts to fade into the shadows. He's real good at that, like one of Batman's arch nemeses you've never heard of. Mel stays, but she looks bored, like she isn't even listening anymore.
“Make it happen,” Kent says, turning around and walking away dismissively, like he could care less about the most important operation that goes on in this group. “I've got some other shit to take care of. If you need anything, come find me.” He knows we don't need shit. He gives the orders and we follow them.
I let Kent go, and I don't argue. Why? Who the hell would argue to spend more time with Kent Diamond? Yeah, not even Melissa Diamond, his fucking wife. The blonde bitch yawns and plants her hands on her skinny ass hips. We work a certain way, me and Kimmi. Well, we used to until Kent demanded we take Mel under our wings and teach her the ropes. And he decided to wait until we got into this weird ass little town before he decided to say anything about that. I look at Mel and I know, just friggin' know, that she's going to screw this up.
“Has Mireya ever told you about her time with Tray?” I say, and I can't help but notice the way Mel's smile burns across her face like acid. God, I hate that little cunt.
“Mireya hates my guts,” Kimmi says matter-of-factly. “She wouldn't tell me shit. Now start explaining why my ass is out here and not back in my room with Margot.” I smile gently. Kimmi is going to like Amy Cross a whole lot. I'm probably going to have to beat her off with a stick.
My smile fades.
“Did you know that Mireya was married to that asshole?” Kimmi's nose wrinkles up, and she tugs on her left earring nervously.
“Mireya Sawyer? The Mireya Sawyer? The girl who built her own bike from the ground up while we were on the road? That girl?” I grin, can't help it. Mireya's one of my best friends. Still, I owe her a serious talk about what she did to Amy. I still can't figure out why she'd do something like that. We've never been a couple, just friends with good times. Why the hell is she jealous all of a sudden? Why this time, with this girl?
“She married him when she was fifteen,” Melissa chimes in, running her finger down Kimmi's bare arm. Kimmi jerks away with a growl. She's like Gaine and won't mess with Diamond either. Kent might seem calm, but we've all seen him in his rages. Nobody but Beck wants to risk him finding Mel in their bed. Anyway, I think Kimmi would rather kill Melissa than sleep with her. I couldn't agree more.
“Okay, so this is like a get back at your ex thing?” she asks me. “Is that what this is all about?” Kimmi looks disgusted.
The smile slides off my face, and she pauses. Kimmi and I have known each other since I was eighteen and stupid. She knows when I'm serious about something.
“No, Kimmi. This is more than that. This about vengeance against the wicked.”
I wait in Austin's room with butterflies in my stomach and pangs of guilt in my heart. I thought briefly about … finishing myself, but I couldn't bring myself to relax enough to do it.
The bed is rumpled and smells like perfume, and I'm pretty sure that it isn't Austin's which in turn makes me wonder who was here last night. I mean, I know he isn't mine and he doesn't owe me anything, but the thought of Austin in this bed with another woman bothers me so much that I strip the whole thing down and call the front desk for new linens.
I ring my hands while I wait, pacing back and forth in front of the TV and staring at the phone on the nightstand. Should I call my family? Should I call Christy? The pressure in my head gets so bad that by the time the linens arrive, I've already got my purse on my shoulder and am debating heading downstairs for a glass of wine in the lobby restaurant. Austin told me not to leave, but then, he also didn't tell me he had perfume and God knows what else all over his bed.
I wrench the door open and find two men waiting for me. One of them is wearing a uniform and has a pile of white sheets in his hands. The other is tattooed and pierced with dark hair and bruises all over his face. I step back for the hotel employee and keep my eyes glued on the face of the other man.
“Well, hello there,” he says as I listen to the crinkle of fabric behind me and wait for the employee to take the sheets away. “I was looking for Austin, but maybe I came at a bad time?” The stranger gives me a once over that I do not like, checking me out from head to toe, taking in my rumpled appearance with a crooked smile.
“He's with Kent,” I say simply, repeating Austin's words. The man's heavy brows wrinkle and he rubs a hand over his stubbly chin. He's got on a tight black shirt and leather pants with chains on them. If I hadn't seen Austin first, I'd probably have found him attractive. As of now, I've gotten spoiled, and I can't stop thinking of the sandy haired stranger and his searing kisses.
“Ah, okay,” he says, putting his hand on the doorframe. “Did he say when he was going to be back?” I shrug and step aside as the employee bustles past with the offensive laundry.
“He didn't,” I say, hoping this man will go away, so I can go and have my drink. I feel that I deserve one, and it doesn't seem as if Austin is going to be back anytime soon. The sky is growing dark outside my hotel window, and the reality of my situation is starting to sink in. A bit of alcohol might do me some good, I think.
The man gestures at my purse.
“Are you on your way out?” he asks, taking a step back and glancing left and right down the hall like he's afraid somebody's going to stumble onto us. I clutch my purse strap with a nervous hand. If he comes at me or does anything weird, I'll be ready.
I did manage to remember my pepper spray this time, thank you very much.
“Oh, I was just going to head down to the restaurant for a glass of wine.”
The man smiles and runs a hand through his dark hair, cringing like his whole body hurts.
“Mind if I join you?” he asks, and before I can respond, he's introducing himself. “Name's Gaine Kelley.” He pauses and holds out his hand. His fingers are scraped and covered in small cuts, and I can't help but wonder what happened to the poor man. He seems nice enough, and I'm pretty sure I've seen him before, so I decide to take a chance.
“Amy Cross,” I say, holding out my own hand and taking his. “I'm assuming you're a member of Triple M as well?” Gaine nods and releases my hand.
“Ever since I turned sixteen.” He thinks for a moment and then whistles sharply. “Seven years now. Seven long, wonderful years. And Austin's been by my side for every single one of them.” I smile at him and look around for a key card. Crap. I don't have one.
“Everything okay?” he asks as I look around the dresser and push aside some of Austin's clothes with my hands. Unconsciously, I think I'm looking for lacy panties or something, too, but I don't see any. Whoever was here last night is gone. I sigh.
“I don't have a key,” I say. “For the room.” I turn around to look at Gaine again and notice that he isn't smiling anymore and is instead examining me like he isn't sure what to think. I wonder what he's heard about me. I hope it's nothing horrible. Austin doesn't seem like the kind of man that feels the need to brag about his sexual exploits, but then, I met him two days ago, so what do I really know?
“We could stay here and order in?” Gaine says, noticing me staring at him and switching his expression to something more pleasant. “I promise I don't bite.” He holds out his hand and gestures at the bed with a wink. “I could even help you make this bitch if you want?” I narrow my eyes at him and keep my purse by my side.
“Okay,” I say, unsure if this is really a good idea or not. But then, I'm running away with a biker gang. Can't really be all that picky about things like that, now can I? “But I just want you to know, if you try anything, I've got a can of pepper spray in my purse.”
Losing Me, Finding You Page 12