His phone buzzed. “Let’s go in.” Hunter opened the door for her and took her hand. They walked up the stairs like a normal couple.
When she stepped inside, her heart dropped. Someone had been in her house.
Hem wore a mask of apology and held a black handgun pointed at the floor. “Maddox is checking the garage but the house is clear.”
Kol stood in the kitchen looking out the back window.
Hunter whispered, “I’m sorry.”
The framed print over her couch had been smashed. Glass glittered on the cushions and floor. The television had been knocked off the entertainment center. Someone had written obscene words with a red marker over her breakfast bar. Slut. Cunt. Die Bitch.
Her stomach turned and she thought she might vomit. The house had been her sacrosanct after leaving her parent’s home. It was the place she felt safe and it had been violated.
Hunter put his arm around her shoulder and she flinched. “It’s okay, Holly. Let’s just get your stuff. We’ll have all of this fixed. I promise.”
Tears stung her eyes as she walked down the hallway to her bedroom. The quilt had been shredded and the vase on her dresser was now shattered on the floor, the flowers dead. Drawers stood open and her underwear had been pulled out and scattered about. The night stands had been overturned and the ceramic lamps were cracked into pieces.
She walked past the carnage and wiped the tears off her face. Don’t you dare cry. Holly stuffed clothes and toiletries into an overnight bag. Getting back to the comfort of the clubhouse was her priority. This house didn’t feel like her home anymore.
Maddox stood in the doorway. “You okay, sweetheart?”
Holly shook her head. “I can’t believe this.” She leaned over her night stand and pulled the top drawer open. “My gun is gone.”
She charged past Hunter and Maddox and into her office. The sadness was seguing into anger. How dare those pieces of shit do this to her. “My god damned computers are gone.” Holly threw her hands up. “This is great.”
“So all your info is lost?” Hunter asked.
“No. I’m not stupid. Everything is backed up on a flash drive that’s in my purse.” The filing cabinet beside her desk was open and files were sticking up. Someone had gone through her papers.
“Are the letters still there?” Hunter pointed at the cabinet.
“I don’t keep confidential stuff in there.” The carpet was loose in the corner and Holly pulled it up to reveal the hidden cutout in the floor. She removed the board and pulled out the steel box. “The letters are in here.” She opened the box and pulled out the folder from that interview. She held up the pages of handwritten letters and notes. “Got them.”
The damage to her house was mostly cosmetic. There were no holes in the walls or floors. But it was still really bad. It hurt to see everything toppled over and gone through.
Hunter took the metal box from her. “Let’s go.”
Kol locked up the house and they loaded back into the van. So many emotions circled in her head. Fate wasn’t something she gave much consideration to but she couldn’t shake the thought that if she hadn’t met Hunter she’d probably be dead now.
It was nice to shower and put on her own clothes afterward. She’d managed to make herself at home in the clubhouse. She knew where to find food and drinks in the kitchen. It had been quiet and empty over the weekend aside from the meeting that had been held that morning. Hem had loaned her a laptop that she could use to pull up the info from her flash drive.
Hunter sat on the bed reading the letters that Bobby Quinn had written from prison. “Jesus. This guy was a creep. I hope you didn’t send him the kind of pictures he kept asking for.”
“Yeah. No. I had no ambition to be on that prison wives show. He was polite in person aside from talking mostly to my boobs. I chalked that up to the fact that he’d been locked up for a long time and hadn’t been around many women.”
“He liked the way you smelled,” Hunter commented and put one page behind another to keep reading.
“Don’t remind me. He had a swastika tattooed on his wrist. Made my skin crawl.” Nervous energy coursed through her body and she stood next to the bed and stretched. “So being an old lady is like being a girlfriend, right?”
Hunter didn’t look up. “Yeah. Some guys call their old lady their bitch.”
Holly stared at him. “I’m nobody’s bitch.”
“I don’t use that term, Holly.” He set the letters down. “I’m an asshole, but I’m not a misogynist.”
“I don’t know what to do with this anger,” she said. The urge to hit something or someone boiled in her but she couldn’t be like that. She couldn’t be like her dad. “Everything they broke or stole can be replaced though. But it feels like shit to be violated like that.”
“I know, baby.” He got up and came around to where she stood. “We’ll get this handled and get your shit replaced. We just don’t want a war with them and we want you safe.”
Without pretense, she wrapped her arms around him. His chest was warm against her cheek. “Thank you.”
He rubbed his hand over her back. “For what?”
“I don’t think I’d be alive if it weren’t for you and Hem.” She looked up at him. “I can’t describe how I felt walking into my house. Had I been alone…”
Hunter trailed his thumb along the line of her jaw. “You’re not alone. Like I told you before, I won’t let anyone hurt you.” He lowered his mouth to kiss her. “I’ve been thinking about this every night you’ve been here.”
“Me, too,” she replied and tangled her fingers into his hair.
Holly pushed his cut off his shoulders and he let it fall to the floor. His T-shirt was next.
Heat pooled between her legs and her want quickly turned into a need. “I kind of like being your captive.”
He smiled. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here, but I can’t let you leave.”
“Don’t tell me I can’t leave, Hunter.” Holly traced her fingertip over the skull tattoo on his chest. “Make me want to stay.”
He yanked her shirt over her head, and pulled her skirt up over her hips and lifted her off her feet. “I think I can do that.”
With one hand, he held her against him while he planted his knees on the bed. The buckle on his belt was cold against her stomach. He gently laid her on her back and slipped her panties down her legs. “Damn. You’re gorgeous.”
“So are you.” Holly reached up to touch his cheek. “Take me,” she whispered.
Hunter was all hard muscle and scars and tattoos and she knew he could hurt her. A part of her wanted him to but she knew he wouldn’t. He wasn’t wired that way. Hunter wasn’t like the man who was supposed to set the standard for all men in her life.
The coarse hair of his beard scratched her breasts as he moved his head lower to suck and nibble her nipple. He kneaded her other breast with rough hands. Not rough in mannerism but rough as in callused from hard work.
Holly moaned and grabbed a handful of his hair as he slid a hand between her thighs. He rubbed one finger along her mound, barely opening her folds and grazing her clit. The tease was almost unbearable. She lifted her hips to try and gain the intimate contact she craved.
“You’re so impatient,” he whispered, moving up and kissing her neck. He pushed one finger inside her and used his thumb to press down on her clit. “Is that what you want?”
“Yes. Yes.” She panted and lifted her legs while he slowly fingered her and layered kisses over her collarbone and chin.
Every nerve in her body was on fire as her stomach muscles tightened, then her pussy contracted hard. He wiggled his finger inside her and added a second one. He stretched her and stroked a spot inside her. Her body shook.
“Oh my god. God. Yes.” Whatever he was doing sent her spiraling and she screamed when the release came.
He kissed her and stifled the sounds she made. She moaned into his mouth and he pulled his fingers out.
Hunter lifted up and smiled. “You’ve got a set of lungs on you.”
She laughed. “I’m not a screamer. That’s your fault.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” He reached into the drawer beside the bed and ripped open the condom wrapper while Holly unbuckled his belt. His jeans slid down over his hips.
Holly leaned forward and kissed his stomach. The muscles in his abdomen flexed and she trailed her fingers over the ripples. She gripped his cock in her fist and slid her hand up and down slowly. He stared down at her and licked his lips. She licked hers, too. When she took him into her mouth, his eyelids lowered and he put his hand on the top of her head.
To steady herself, she got on her knees and put one hand on his thigh. His lips parted as she moved her head slowly in tandem with her hand.
“Fuck.” Hunter reached down and moved her hair from cheek. “Your mouth is like a sin.”
She scratched her nails on his leg and moved a little faster. Drool dripped from her bottom lip. Hunter groaned and grabbed her hair, pulling her away. “I want to be inside you when I come.”
The open condom package had landed beside his knee. Holly pulled it out and rolled it over his cock. Hunter pushed her back on the bed.
She flipped over and got on her hands and knees. “Like this.”
“Whatever you want, baby.” He loomed over her from behind and kissed the middle of her back.
The bed creaked when he positioned himself between her legs. His cock pressed hot and hard at her entrance. With a firm grip of her shoulder, he slid into her.
“Mmm.” She put one palm on the wooden headboard. The blanket was soft against her nipples as her body moved back and forth with the motion of his hips.
Like last time, he started slow and deliberate, giving her a chance to acclimate to his size. In that position he went deeper or at least it felt that way.
“You’re so hot inside.” The timbre of his voice went from smooth to gravel and he reached around to grip her breast.
“Feels so good,” she purred. “Harder.”
Without hesitation, he complied and slammed into her.
“God.” Holly moaned and her toes curled. That familiar ache built up again. “I’m going to come. Make me come.”
Hunter moved his hand from her breast and trailed down over her stomach until his finger circled her clit. “You like that?”
“Mhmm.”
He continued to pump into her with long, hard strokes.
Between his cock and his finger, the orgasm hit her like a chemical reaction. She bit her lip to keep from screaming. Her pussy contracted on his dick.
“God damn,” he whispered. “I’m right there, too.” Hunter moved his hand from her clit to her hip. The grip he had on her would probably leave a mark that she’d feel later.
“Yes, yes,” she cried.
They were both still trembling when he pulled out and rolled her to her side to lay beside him. He planted a kiss on the back of her neck. “Did that make you want to stay?”
“Oh, yes.”
Chapter Eight
Kyle Melner was a small man but no one underestimated him because of his height. He was yoked out from spending his days lifting weights and doing pushups. His head was shaved and covered in tattoos. Prison tattoos. Pock marks scarred his ruddy skin. His appearance was menacing but that wasn’t what really made him dangerous. They say that some people are soulless and you can see it in their eyes. Kyle’s eyes were the color of dead seaweed. If he did have a soul, he lacked a conscience for sure.
Hunter hadn’t relished the idea of calling Holly’s dad for the money the AB wanted and he had a sick feeling that her father wouldn’t really care that her life might be on the line. After a promise he wouldn’t lose his cool, Paul had given Hunter the okay to meet with Kyle on his own and broker the deal.
“I heard you have a proposition for me,” Kyle said. The chain between his cuffed wrists clanked against the metal table in the meeting area.
“Yeah. It’s about the hit you put on my old lady.”
“What you got?” Kyle asked.
“You want two hundred fifty grand to even this score. What if I could guarantee that the authorities can’t touch Holly?”
“How would you swing that?” Kyle scratched his nose.
“She’s a reporter. If she writes a piece on what Bobby told her, leaving out the incriminating shit, of course, she could claim reporter’s privilege and they can’t make her talk. Not about anything he told her beyond confessions he made about stuff he did. That shit doesn’t matter now since he’s dead.”
Kyle nodded.
“Also, I have these.” Hunter set a stack of papers on the table between them.
“What’s this?”
“The letters your lieutenant mailed to her.” Hunter tapped the pile. “There’s a lot of shit in here. Bobby spilled his fucking guts.”
Kyle chewed the inside of his lip. “I wish I could have shiv’d that little bitch myself.”
“Here’s my proposal. Holly writes a simple story with just enough information to claim the reporter privilege, I hand these letters over to you and give you your money back for the Russian meth bomb. In exchange, you rescind the two hundred fifty grand bounty and take Holly off your hit list. And you give me your personal guarantee for her safety.”
“Let me think for a second.” Kyle stared past Hunter’s shoulder. A personal guarantee was a big deal. That meant that if someone went after Holly once they had a deal, Kyle would be killed slow and ugly. The Knights had people on the inside. People with nothing to lose.
Hunter would be happy to give that order if it came down to it. He got up and walked to the vending machine in the corner of the room. Overpriced candy bars and snack sized bags of chips sat in neat rows behind the glass.
The want to strangle Kyle was still there because of the pain he had caused Holly already. But Hunter needed to tamp it down for her sake. Popping off would just fuck up the deal.
A woman with a baby on her lap and tears in her eyes looked at Hunter as he passed her. There was no way in hell he’d ever have his old lady visit him in prison and bring their kid. That was fucked up. Hunter returned to the table without buying anything.
“I can do this deal,” Kyle said. “You know who to return the money to.” He put his hand on the stack of letters. “Did you make copies of this shit?”
“No. Copies wouldn’t hold water anyway. They can’t be authenticated.” Even the original letters couldn’t be authenticated because Bobby Quinn was currently rotting in a Dallas cemetery. Hunter guessed that Kyle didn’t realize the letters were no good without Bobby’s testimony. But they could still stir up some shit; point the feds in the right direction to find the closets that kept the skeletons secret.
“Good.” Kyle stood. “I’ll get the info out in the next couple days. You know how it is from inside. It can take some time.”
Hunter didn’t know. He’d never been locked up, but he agreed anyway. “Sure do, man. Take it easy.”
The prison was a twenty-minute ride from the clubhouse. Hunter climbed onto the Crossbones and drove out the gates.
Holly sat at the bar with Hem’s laptop. Her editor had approved the story on the white supremacists. She wasn’t entirely clear on the connection between the Knights of War and the Aryans, but she had to respect the confidentiality of the club. Just like the police would have to respect her confidentiality of sources. She was using the legal system to protect a criminal enterprise to save her own ass. From personal experience, she knew that sometimes secrets were best left buried anyway. Maybe over time, both she and Hunter would trust enough to lay themselves bare. For now, what they had was good enough.
Condensation dripped off the glass of water next to her hand. She took a sip. Paul sat at the end of the bar talking to Hunter. She was vaguely aware of the content of their conversation. A big pipeline job had come up and they’d be leaving for South Texas in a couple of days. H
em had arranged to have a contractor at her house tomorrow and the day after that the story would run in the paper. Then she could go home with a gentlemen’s agreement protecting her life. A blood contract.
Paul’s phone rang and he walked into the chapel and shut the door.
Hunter leaned in behind her and moved her hair from her shoulder. He planted a kiss on her neck. “All done?”
“Yes. I just sent the article in. Grant will review it tomorrow and it should run on Saturday.”
“Good.” He spun her stool around so she was facing him. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay,” she said. “How long will you be gone?”
“A week. But you can call me anytime. You know that, right?”
Holly nodded. “I know. I guess I’m just a little nervous still.”
“I get that. Sin will be here at the shop if there’s an emergency.”
“Okay. I’m probably overreacting.”
“No. You’re not. You’ve had a lot going on the last couple weeks. But I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you and I stand by that.”
She put her hand on his chest and ran her finger over the Sgt. At Arms patch on his cut. “I know.”
Hunter pulled her hand up to kiss her knuckles. “I think it’s time I took you for a ride on my bike.”
She laughed. “You make it sound like a rite of passage.”
“I don’t let just anyone sit on my bike, baby.” He grinned.
“I need my jacket.”
“Go get it and meet me outside.” He kissed her cheek.
She closed the laptop and slipped off the barstool. The clubhouse had been home for her and the thought of leaving was bittersweet. The closet in Hunter’s bedroom was half-full of boxes and pairs of boots that had seen better days. Her leather jacket hung beside a white button down shirt that looked unworn. She shrugged the coat on and walked back through the clubhouse. A weird feeling of loss struck her at the sight of the empty corner where the pinball machine had been. Her life had changed so much in such a short period of time. Never in her wildest dreams would she have imagined being in a place like that with people like them. Good people.
Field Stripped: 15 Steamy Military Romances Page 52