Colt: Demons of Destruction

by Jacqueline M. Sinclair

  Colt barked out a laugh. “You’re right, you’re right.” He kissed her forehead. “You sure you’re OK?”

  She smiled, and Colt knew she was putting her best face forward. Somewhere during the night she’d come to terms with what happened. He grabbed her hand, brought it to his lips and kissed it. “OK, I’m going to go get that shower.”

  *****

  The water had stung, but Colt wasn’t complaining. He finished drying off, pulled on a fresh pair of boxers, and went out into the cabin.

  Maci was in the kitchen, pulling out stuff for breakfast. “Much deeper and I would have needed stitches,” Colt announced, getting her attention.

  Her gaze fell to his chest, the fresh nail marks, but he wasn’t done. He held out his arms and turned, giving her a full view of the damage. When he turned back around, Maci stood with her mouth open, a rosy blush creeping up her neck. “I’m so sorry.”

  Colt chuckled, starting towards her. She backed away, but he pushed on until there was nowhere for her to go. “You’re sorry?” he asked, giving her his best, straight face.

  She nodded and he bent down, grabbed her by the waist, and lifted her to the counter.

  “Are you going to make it up to me?”

  “I can,” she stammered. “How?”

  Considering it, Colt settled on the most obvious. “Skin for skin.”

  Maci’s eyebrows scrunched together, confused. He lifted his shirt she wore, fingering the thick cotton. “Take it off.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a simple instruction, Maci. You can go without it. Take it off.”

  Colt stepped back, one hand on the counter beside her, waiting, watching. He half expected her to argue, but she didn’t. She crossed her arms and pulled it off over her head. Colt’s heart dropped. The joke was on him. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Nothing. Fuck me.

  It was all she could do not to laugh in his face. She jumped down from the counter before he could turn away, making sure to give an extra bounce, just for the sake of making her boobs jiggle a little more than they would have.

  “Hungry?” she asked, innocently.

  Colt muttered something under his breath, but Maci set back to getting the pancake mix stirred in the bowl. It didn’t take them long to cook. “Want some coffee?”

  “Sure,” he mumbled.

  Before she poured it, she grabbed the syrup from the refrigerator, making sure to stand a little closer to the cold air than was necessary. Not that she needed the cold to make her nipples perky, just being around Colt did that for her, but she was going for effect.

  Prancing to the table, she stood just to the side, forcing Colt to turn to take the syrup. It also put his eyeballs level with her breasts. He huffed, rolled his eyes up to hers, finding nothing but a sweet, demure smile on her face. “What were you saying?”

  “I said, what happened to sweet and innocent?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. What do you think?”

  The microwave dinged and Maci got the bacon out, put some on his plate, and sat it in front of him.

  “I’m starting to think sweet was never part of the equation,” Colt said dryly.

  Maci bit back a laugh, trying to keep this ridiculous situation serious. “Why would you say that? That hurts, Colt.”

  She sat her plate on the table and went to get a towel from the bathroom. She spread it over her chair, ignoring Colt’s questioning stare until she sat down. “I’m not putting my bare ass in this chair,” she complained. “Now, you don’t think I’m sweet?”

  Colt leaned forward in his chair, his elbows on either side of his plate. “You walked, uninvited, right up to a biker’s clubhouse. You beat up your boss. You fuck like a seasoned whore, and you walk around here tempting me like a stripper trying to make rent. No, I don’t think you’re sweet.”

  Maci tried to look hurt, but it was hard to keep the smile off her face. “You’re the one who told me to take off my shirt.”

  “It was my shirt,” he argued, waving his hand at her naked body. “And I didn’t expect this.”

  “Should I get dressed?” Maci shot back.

  Colt collapsed against his chair. “How about we just eat?”

  Maci couldn’t hold back the smile anymore. “I’ll take that as a no.”

  Colt huffed, stabbing his pancakes with his fork. Maci looked away, content she’d made her point, for now. They ate in silence, each of them cleaning up their own plate when they were done, tidying up the space before Colt disappeared out on the porch.

  Maci used the bathroom, dug a condom from the club stash, and followed him. He wouldn’t even look at her when she stepped out. She straddled him, sitting on his knees, balancing her weight on hers. “Are you mad at me?”

  He didn’t answer. “You’re pouting, Colt,” she purred, her fingers skimming his bare chest, past his stomach, and down to his boxers. She wasn’t surprised to find he was half hard, already. Colt was just as attracted to her as she was to him. She felt it. As powerful as anything she’d known before. She finally understood what chemistry meant.

  She slid her legs around, sinking between his knees.

  “What are you doing?” His edgy voice told her he knew exactly what her intentions were, but he didn’t make a move to stop her. She pulled his full-blown erection through the flap in his boxers, and was just about to take the first lick, when the cell phone rang.

  Colt shot her a smirk, pushed himself up with a groan, and swung his leg over her, stuffing his junk back in his shorts as he went inside to answer the phone.

  “Yeah?” he answered.

  Maci followed him inside, leaning against the counter while he talked to who she assumed was Hank. He hung up without much conversation, tossing the phone back on the counter. “Tucker’s on his way with the pictures.”

  And just like that, reality came crashing down around her. “What happens then?” Maci asked.

  Colt shrugged. “The club will decide.”

  “You at least have an idea,” she argued. “I’ll never be safe when they find out I’m the one who gave him up, Colt, you know that.”

  Colt’s dark eyes found hers, but he wasn’t going to sugar coat it for her. “I know,” he admitted.

  Tears threatened. Not for the first time, Maci considered that going to the Demons had been a mistake. Maybe if she’d just let things play out, the Rebels would have realized she didn’t have anything to do with the club, and would have left her alone. Too late for that now. She’d run straight to them, maybe even proving the Rebels’ suspicions. Now what was she supposed to do?

  Colt stepped toward her, but Maci threw up her hands, stopping him. She was safe for now, but what happened when the Demons got what they needed from her?

  “Do not fucking go there.”

  Maci blinked, her attention focusing on Colt, who seemed to have doubled in size, his chest puffed out, his anger causing him to tower over her, for once, intimidating her.

  She cocked her head, questioning him.

  “It’s written all over your face. Is that what you think of us? Of me?”

  Maci took a step back, a fierce need to escape gripping her. “I don’t even fucking know you.” She turned, grabbing the shirt he’d thrown to the side earlier, and escaped to the water.

  I’m such an idiot. Playing little girl games with a man who was just as capable of killing you as sitting down and having a meal with you. Or making love to you. Would Colt give her up? Would he, or the Demons, just discard her, when she pointed out the picture? When she told Colt the truth?

  Would she be just another loose end for them, too? Pulling the shirt on, Maci collapsed in one of the chairs Colt had left at the shore, pulling the material over her knees to ward off the chill she felt, despite the heat. She should have gone to the police. They’d have done something. But their protection would eventually end, too. She would have needed something big, huge, like witness protection, another life, far away from here.

  Maci considered th
e hundreds of dollars in books that’d burned up in her little trailer, the year of classes, the money, and the sacrifices. Her life as a teacher and the promise of a career, were gone and for what? To trust in some shady motorcycle club that didn’t give a shit about her? None of it seemed like such a grand plan now.

  Turning, looking back toward the cabin, Maci sighed. There was no sign of Colt. What does he care, anyway?

  Making herself comfortable, Maci tolerated the heat for as long as she could, then resigned herself to a long day while they waited for Tucker.

  “Get your stuff ready. We’ll ride back with him in the morning.”

  Colt’s deep voice cut through the silence, startling her. She froze, searching for a response. She didn’t want to go, didn’t want to rush the time they had away. It was over. “Fine. Whatever.”

  She turned it over and over, deciding that they were both letting the unknown get to them. She was nothing. Colt was a Demon, and he’d given himself to them. He was bound by whatever choices they made about her, and about the Rebels with the Devil.

  They were getting ahead of themselves. At least she was. They had an overwhelming sexual chemistry, but Colt had never offered more or made any promises. In fact, he’d fought her every step of the way. Hadn’t she known, when she went to the Demons, that it was a crapshoot? She was being unfair, unrealistic.

  She needed to come up with a plan. She could disappear. Start over. She’d done it before. She could do it again.

  Maci shook her head, thumbing through the photos for the second time. “He’s not here.”

  Colt studied her. She was too frazzled to be lying, already on edge, having sat for hours waiting for Tucker, who apparently went around his ass to get there.

  “He was blond,” Maci explained. “His hair was longer, scraggly. He was thin, and had a full mustache.”

  She passed the phone to Colt, who thumbed through the pictures. He didn’t see anybody that resembled her description, either. “I’ll call Hank.”

  Colt grabbed the untraceable phone off the counter and stepped onto the porch, pulling up the only number in it.

  “Find anything?”

  “Nothing. She says he’s not there.”

  The line was silent for a minute, then a frustrated, “fuck,” from Hank.

  Colt filled him in on Maci’s description. “We’d considered this guy might have gone rogue. There’s no other indication they’re out for us. I think we need to consider it as fact. This guy was acting on his own.”

  Having said his peace, Colt waited, pacing the length of the porch.

  “Have your girl write out a description. Every detail she can remember, from the way he looked, to how bad he stunk. Send it back with Tucker tomorrow. I’m going to request a meeting with Skinner. If he is in the wind and on his own, they aren’t going to appreciate the heat.”

  Colt wasn’t surprised Hank would go straight to the president of the Rebels. If they could work this shit out together, all the merrier it would be.

  “We’ll see you in the morning,” Colt said.

  “There’s no we in this. You and her stay put. The last fucking thing we need is to have the law up our ass before we even find out who we’re looking for.”

  “I’m dying up here, man.” He was sure Maci would be excited about leaving, too. She’d barely spoke to him while they wasted the day away. He knew part of that was because she feared what she’d face when she got back.

  “What about the girl?”

  “What about her?” Hank asked.

  “She risked a lot coming to us.”

  “We’re not in the business of hiding refugees, Colt.” Something scrubbed over the phone, his voice becoming muffled, then loud and clear again. “But if her word brings us blood, we’ll do what we can.”

  The call was disconnected. Colt watched the screen until it went black, thankful that at least the Demons weren’t going to turn their back on Maci after the sacrifice she was making. There was no doubt in his mind now that she was the key to his father’s murder.

  Stuffing the phone in his pocket, he went back inside. “Hank wants you to write down everything you can remember about him. Everything. Physical description, smell, if you saw what he was driving.”

  Colt rifled through the drawers until he found a notepad and a pen. He handed it to Maci and turned to Tucker. “He wants you to take it back tomorrow.”

  Tucker linked his hands together and stretched them over his head. “Looks like you two have company tonight.”

  Colt froze, eyeing Tucker, whose grin faded with the glare. “You going to eat that?” he asked, pointing at Maci’s sandwich.

  She shook her head, focusing on her writing. Tucker snatched it up, sauntered to the couch and hit the remote, propping his feet on the coffee table as the screen came to life. It was the first time that particular TV had been turned on, and it filled the room with the sounds of grunting, moaning, and panting.

  The fucker made no move to turn it off, let alone down. Colt risked a glance at Maci, who was doing her best not to laugh.

  Marching over to the TV, Colt hit the power button, putting the room in silence.

  “Dude,” Tucker whined, sitting up, throwing his hands in the air. “I haven’t seen this. That’s pure 70’s classic porn, right there.”

  “Exactly,” Colt said, nodding at Maci, as if to remind him she was there. “Have some fucking respect.”

  Tucker swung to Maci, who was turning red to keep from laughing. Not fucking helping.

  “You got the porch,” Colt announced.

  Tucker’s face fell. “She doesn’t mind,” he argued. “Do you?” he asked Maci.

  Before she could answer, Colt pulled his shirt off, revealing the deep scratches Maci had left across his skin. “I mind.”

  A long, low whistle came from Tucker. “What kind of cat fight you guys having up here?”

  “You want to see out of both eyes to drive home tomorrow? Get your ass to the porch.” Colt snatched a pillow off the bed, chucked it to him, and waited by the door for Tucker to go.

  He stood slowly, eyeing Maci the whole way, his eyebrows waggling on his forehead. Just before Colt grabbed him by the shirt, helping him the last few feet, he shot Maci a wink. Both feet safely outside the door, Tucker turned, was about to speak, and Colt shut the door in his face.

  Maci lost it, laughing all the way to the bathroom.

  “Colt, man, it’s raining.”

  Rolling his eyes, Colt grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch, tossed it out the door, and shut it again. He flipped on the bedside lamp, turning out all the other lights, and sat on the side of the bed.

  Maci came out and climbed into bed without a word. Colt shed his pants, climbed in beside her, and turned out the light, satisfied when Maci snuggled up beside him, her head on his chest, her hair fanned out across his skin.

  With his arm wrapped around her, he tugged up the hem of her shirt and stroked the bare skin of her hip.

  “I’m sorry for last night, Colt. I’m just stressed.”

  “Me, too.”

  Her hand had been fingering the skin of his chest, but now it was heading south. “So…you want to have wild and crazy make up sex?” She rose up on her elbow, planting a light kiss suspiciously close to his nipple.

  “Babe, Tucker is right outside.”

  Despite his protest, Maci had her hand firmly wrapped around him, and his body had a mind of its own. Still, she wasn’t some club whore and he wasn’t sure about it. Discretion was out of the question. Maci was one of the most vocal women he’d known.

  “I’ve been wanting you all day, Colt.” She was climbing on top of him, making it damn near impossible to deny her. “I want to feel you inside me,” she breathed, leaning in so her face was just inches from his.

  This woman, Christ. Colt knew he’d give in. It was a given, but he wasn’t ready to cave just yet. He kind of liked hearing Maci talk like this, and was curious how far she’d take it. However, when she
tucked her head under his chin and nudged him with a loud, “Meow,” he was done.

  It was two more days before they heard back from Hank. By then, Maci and Colt had fallen back into the comforting routine of sexual torture and teasing.

  She found it hard to believe that this bulky, hard-core man would have such a great sense of humor, but he did, and she found herself more and more drawn to him. She tried not to think about what life back home would mean for them, where the Demons’ mission would leave Colt, or if it would be the end of him.

  All the unanswered questions became more concerning as she stood on the porch listening to Colt’s conversation with Hank. There wasn’t much said to help her put two-and-two together, she just had to listen and wait for him to hang up.

  “We have a meeting set up with Skinner Tuesday night at the truck stop. Just him and his VP, me and Hank.”

  Maci huffed. “You think they’re going to stick to that?”

  “You think Hank hasn’t already thought of that?” Colt shot back. He groaned, throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. “Look,” he said, leaning his hip against a stud that supported the porch. “I know you’re worried, but you have to let us do what we do. Without meddling. The rest of the club isn’t going to tolerate it, Maci. You have to trust in me, in us, and then you’ll be free to get on with your life.”

  She tried not to show emotions. Colt hadn’t promised her anything, and as she thought back over to what she’d witnessed at the clubhouse the one night she was there, she didn’t think she was cut out for the lifestyle. She couldn’t imagine how the other women lived it with any peace of mind. Besides, Colt hadn’t promised he’d be standing by her side when this was over.

  Feeling like his gaze was dissecting her thoughts, Maci pulled herself together, meeting his stare. She gave him a small nod. “I won’t get in the way.”

  Colt seemed to be gauging her commitment to that. “Good,” he finally said. “Hank thinks you’ll be safer at the clubhouse once their prez gets the whole story. We’ll go back Tuesday morning. I’ll drop you off and then head out with the guys.”