Troubled Son -- Savage Sons Motorcycle Club

by King, J. D.

  The bathroom door opened, and any thoughts I had about the case just evaporated. Moses stood in the doorway, his lean, muscular torso bare to the top of his low-slung jeans. The ink that covered his arms and his chest was graceful and unbelievably sexy. I couldn't say a word.

  "Your turn," he said, as he walked over to the other side of the bed. "That side okay with you?" he asked as he started to unbutton his jeans.

  I opened my mouth to answer and hoped like hell that an intelligible answer would emerge. "That's fine." I headed for the bathroom and closed the door, leaning against it and wishing that I could have helped Moses remove those jeans. Jesus, was the man gorgeous. I'd never seen chest and ab muscles like his in person. He was physically perfect, at least as far as I could tell.

  I washed my face, pleased to find a clean washcloth. I looked at myself in the mirror as I smoothed on my moisturizer, thinking that I looked more like myself without the heavy eyeliner. I ran my brush through my hair, taking the time to carefully work through the knots that I'd deliberately introduced when I'd teased it in the morning. Face clean, hair toned down, and teeth brushed, I stripped off my clothes and slipped into the mint green sleeveless night shirt. I couldn't stay in the bathroom forever, and I really was tired. The thought of getting into bed with Moses, though, was anything but restful. I stowed my toiletries back in my bag and headed back out.

  I was surprised to see Moses sitting up in bed reading a book. It didn't exactly square with my ideas about his nocturnal activities -- and I knew that I shouldn't have been thinking about his nocturnal activities in the first place.

  "Whatcha reading?" I asked as I stowed my bag in my backpack.

  Moses looked up and I could feel the weight of his gaze as he looked at me. "Wow. You look better without all of that makeup on. I know you need it for your cover, but you're prettier without it."

  I'm sure I blushed as I walked over to the bed. "Thanks."

  Moses showed me the book, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance .

  I laughed. "Didn't figure you for a Buddhist."

  "Yeah, well, I'm not. I like to read, though, and there's not much I can leave here that won't make the guys call me a big pussy."

  Jesus, could this guy get any sexier?

  I pulled down the covers on my side. "It's cold."

  Moses looked up, and I could see him take in my hard nipples through the satin. "Won't be for long."

  "You gonna steal the covers?"

  "Hardly. This bed's pretty small, and we're just gonna have to get comfortable with one another."

  "After spending half the day behind you on the bike, I think I'll be okay," I answered, climbing into bed.

  It was smaller than I'd guessed, and the fact that neither of us was petite meant that we met in the middle, hip to hip.

  "You did good today," Moses said softly. "It's not easy to handle this group, and you just charmed the pants off everyone."

  I thought about the sight of Moses unbuttoning his jeans, and I realized that I had no idea what he'd been wearing beneath them. It wasn't like I could just peek under the covers, so I figured that I'd have to wait until morning to find out.

  "Thanks," I answered. "You made it easy."

  I got my pillow situated just right, and I turned away from him to face the wall. "I'm beat. Goodnight."

  "'Night. Do you mind if I read for a little while longer?"

  "Not at all. I could sleep through a nuclear bomb right now, I'm so tired."

  I closed my eyes and thought about the events of the day. I hadn't expected to actually enjoy spending time with Moses, and our ride, the view from the park, and dinner had ended up being fun. I was glad he'd been honest with me about what he wanted out of the deal he'd made with us, and knowing where he stood made it easier and safer for me to do my job.

  Of course, as soon as I laid down and didn't have to put on an act, my mind started racing. I'd always thought that you can't really know a person until you've seen where they live, and I was looking forward to seeing Moses' house. I felt like I needed to get a better handle on who he was so that I could really know if I could trust him...and how much.

  I thought about all of the people that I'd met that evening and realized that if everything went according to plan, that a lot of those people would end up in prison. I was surprised that it bothered me a little to think of Bethany in jail. I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because she'd seemed a little vulnerable. It was hard for me to think of her actively selling meth, pushing something that completely destroyed lives and families and communities. I realized, as I lay in Moses' bed, listening to him turn pages, that the hardest part of my undercover job was going to be avoiding identifying with and feeling sorry for the criminals I'd be spending time with. I couldn't afford to risk my safety or career for these people who knowingly, regularly broke the law.

  I rolled over and accidentally brushed up against Moses' tattooed forearm. I was never going to be able to sleep.

  "Why did you do it? Call us?" I asked, voice low enough that I was certain we couldn't be overheard.

  Moses set his book down on his lap and looked over at me. He sighed and thought for a moment. "It wasn't really any one thing, to tell you the truth. I mean, it had always bothered me that my mother was weak enough to get hooked on crank, and I was sad when she died. I did feel bad that we were selling the thing that killed her, but really, I think she'd have just found another way to give up. She couldn't deal with reality, and crank was her escape."

  He shifted up onto his hip and slid back toward the edge of the bed so that he could look down at me more easily. The sheets shifted and revealed his chiseled hip bones that practically made me drool.

  He continued. "Mostly, though, I'm just tired of always having to look over my shoulder. I could make a living just on my shop, but I will always be sucked back into fucking club business. I can't just ignore the fact that the Vandals beat the shit out of one of our girls. I have to handle it. I don't want to anymore, and the only way out for me is to help shut the club down and disappear."

  I tried to ignore the fact that being close to Moses made my mouth go dry. "What will you do? When it's all over, I mean?"

  Moses shook his head. "I don't really know. I mean, I've thought about it, but most of the things sound stupid."

  "Like what?"

  "Well, I love to paint. I've thought about trying to sell some of my paintings."

  "You paint?"

  "Yeah." Moses looked away from me. "I've never actually told anyone that before."

  "Why not? I'm jealous. I don't have any artistic ability."

  "It just doesn't fit the image of the tattooed one-percenter lifestyle, I guess."

  "Hm. I think I'd have to call bullshit on that. Aren't you guys supposed to be all about doing what you want? Not caring what people think?"

  Moses turned and put his book down on the nightstand. "You'd think. Not so fuckin' much, though."

  "Well, I hope that you find something you love when you're out of this mess."

  Moses looked at me as he slid down to lie flat. "Max, I don't know that I deserve to be happy and find something that I love. You don't know all the shit I've done."

  I wanted to give him a hug, but I knew that there was absolutely no way I could touch him without completely losing control and throwing myself at him.

  "Everyone deserves a second chance, Moses."

  "Funny thing for an FBI agent to say."

  "Yeah, well, most of the bad guys I see are on their fifteenth chance. I just hope that when all is said and done that you find some peace."

  "Peace," he said, as if he'd never really thought about the word before. "What a nice thought."

  Without another word, Moses turned the reading light off and turned to face the wall. I shifted onto my side as well, grateful for the shared body heat. It took a long time for me to fall asleep, and when I finally drifted off, I dreamed of Moses as a boy, standing at his mother's grave.

  April 5, 2
013

  I woke up disoriented, and I couldn't remember where I was. Before I even opened my eyes, I could feel a warm body behind me and a hand on my hip. As I stirred and stretched, I realized that I also felt a stiffening erection poking me from behind.

  Moses.

  I remembered where I was, and I quietly slipped from beneath the covers and headed for the bathroom. Once I'd washed my face, brushed teeth, and reapplied some makeup, I pulled on clean jeans, and a nude lace bra that made my tits look great. Over the bra, I pulled on one of my Goodwill finds -- a sheer amber-colored top that floated over my bra and made it look like I wasn't wearing anything at all underneath. The top wasn't tight, but it was pretty low-cut, and despite the fact that I hadn't had a shower yet, I didn't look too bad. I pulled my hair up in a messy bun and decided that I was ready for the day. As I opened the bathroom door, I remembered that I never had gotten a look at what Moses wore under his jeans.

  "Mornin'" he greeted me as I came into the bedroom. "Sleep okay?"

  Despite the fact that I was ridiculously disappointed to see him buttoning his jeans, I replied with a smile. "Slept just fine. You?" I was amused to note that there was a sizable bulge in his jeans, and I decided to be merciful and let him get into the bathroom, rather than trying to draw out the conversation and see how he handled it. "Bathroom's all yours."

  While Moses was in the bathroom, I packed up my stuff. When he came back in, I was sitting on the bed. Fortunately, he'd put on a shirt, which made it easier for me to string together a coherent sentence.

  "So what's the plan, and can it please involve some coffee?"

  He smiled. "The coffee here's shit. If you can wait, I'll make you some at my house. If you're gonna die without it, we can stop for a cup on the way."

  "If we could stop, I'd appreciate it. I need to call Tombley too."

  "That makes two of us. He was blowing up my phone last night. I haven't even listened to the messages yet."

  "You didn't call him back right away?"

  "Fuck, no. No offense, sweetheart, but you feds don't own me."

  "No, I get that," I explained. "I was just worried that maybe it was something important."

  "He called four or five times. My guess is that it's important. It'll wait until we get outta here, though. We can stop for breakfast in Castle Rock."

  "Sounds good."

  I stood up, and I felt Moses watching me. Now that he was more awake, he actually noticed what I was wearing. He looked like he was trying to figure out if I had anything on beneath my sheer top, but he was hoping I wouldn't notice. I decided to call him on it.

  "This look okay?" I asked, turning around as if I were showing off.

  "Yeah. It's fine. It just looks like you don't have anything on underneath your shirt."

  "Good," I answered with a smile. "That's exactly what I was going for."

  Without another word, I slipped my arms into my backpack, knowing full well that the motion would draw his eyes to my breasts.

  He shook his head and opened the door. "Let's get out of here."

  Even though I knew I was playing with fire, I was glad to know that I wasn't the only one who was having trouble keeping my mind on business. I followed Moses out of the clubhouse.

  Chapter 22

  Moses

  April 5, 2013

  When I woke up with ridiculous morning wood, I could tell that Max hadn't been up long. I slid my hand under the covers and I could feel the warmth from where she'd been sleeping. I realized that she might have felt my hard-on, and I also realized that there wasn't a damn thing I could do about it. If she hadn't slept in that soft, sexy nightgown, it wouldn't have happened.

  Who the hell was I kidding? She could have slept in flannel fucking pajamas and I still would have a thing for her. I had realized that I was in big trouble last night after our conversation in bed. I liked Max. I hadn't expected to, but I did, and that made things more complicated.

  I heard my cell phone vibrating from across the room, and I stood up, pulled on my jeans, and fished it out of the pocket. Jesus. Five missed calls and two voicemails from Tombley. I figured that I better deal with Tombley pretty quick, and I was ready to get out of the clubhouse.

  After we'd made plans for breakfast, I led the way out of the clubhouse. Th main room was deserted, which was a good thing. On those crazy nights that people slept on the couches, it was never a pretty sight in the morning. We got outside, and I still couldn't tell if Max had a bra on under the shirt she wore. It was nearly completely see-through, and it was all I could do not to reach out and check. I laughed as I thought about her turning around and decking me.

  "What's so funny?" Max asked as we walked to her car in the largely empty lot.

  "Tell you later," I laughed, having no intention of ever coming clean.

  Max stowed her stuff in the back seat of her shitty car.

  "Just follow me. I'll try not to lose you," I told her as I walked to my bike.

  I started my bike, and I tried not to think about everything that was on my mind as we drove south. I didn't succeed. I couldn't stop picturing Max in my living room and in my bed, and I couldn't decide if I was dreading or looking forward to taking her home. I think it was a little of both. I was also curious about what Tombley wanted. Something about that guy bugged me. Maybe it was just the fact that he was a fucking fed. I never thought I'd be working with the feds, and with the exception of Max, I sure hadn't grown any fonder of them.

  Most of the Friday morning traffic flowed north toward Denver, so we had an easy ride toward Castle Rock. I pulled off 25 and into the Waffle House parking lot. While Max found a parking place, I listened to my voicemail.

  "It's Tombley. Listen, we need to talk. I don't know if you've heard, but we have some trouble with the Savage Sons in Fort Collins and the Vandals. Call me. We need a plan to handle this mess."

  I deleted the message and moved on to the next.

  "Tombley again. Call me right away. I'm concerned that Max may be in danger if there's trouble with the Vandals. These things have a way of getting out of hand quick."

  Max walked up as I deleted the second message.

  "What did Tombley want?"

  "He's worried about the fallout from the Vandal problem that I told you about. Let's get a bite to eat, and then I'll call him back."

  I opened the door for Max and followed her inside. Lily, my favorite waitress waved at me and looked surprised to see me. I guessed that she was surprised to see me with Max. We sat down.

  "Hey, Moses," Lily said as she wiped the table down and cleared the dirty coffee mugs.

  "Hey, sugar. Couple of coffees to start."

  "I'm with a celebrity," Max teased me.

  "Nah. I live close, and I'm a bachelor. I'm in here a lot."

  "So tell me what Tombley said."

  "He's worried about your safety. Doesn't want you caught up in a turf war with the Vandals."

  "Well, that's not going to happen, is it? Aren't they kinda far away?"

  "I don't know if it's gonna happen or not. They'd be crazy to bring a fight here onto our turf, but they ain't the smartest bikers I've ever met. Most of 'em spend half their time high on their own supply. I'll have a better idea after I talk to Jimmy on Sunday."

  "So what does Tombley want us to do?"

  "Don't know." I paused while Lily set out coffee and creamer on the table.

  "Need a few more minutes?" she asked.

  "Yes, please," Max answered.

  I figured that she didn't have the Waffle House menu memorized, so I let her look it over and decide what she wanted. Lily came back, we ordered, and then I continued the conversation.

  "I'll call him when we get to my house and see what he has to say. Who knows? He may even have information that I don't."

  "I guess you and I need to come up with some sort of plan as well," Max said as she stirred some cream into her coffee.

  "Yeah. I have some ideas. Best not to talk about them here, though."
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  "Of course." Max took a sip of the coffee. "That is good coffee. And I love the mugs. They feel just right." She cupped the mug in both of her hands.

  I started laughing, and she looked puzzled.

  "Did I say something funny?"

  "Yes. You'll understand tomorrow morning." I didn't want to ruin the joke by telling her that she'd be drinking out of a Waffle House mug at my house the next morning too.

  We ate our breakfast and got our fill of coffee. I realized that at some point I actually had to take Max home.

  "Ready?"

  "Yup. I need a shower," Max answered, completely unaware of the effect her words had on me.

  I couldn't help but imagine her in my shower -- one of my favorite parts of my house. Rather than indulge myself in a fantasy about her all wet and covered with slick bath oil, I stood up and waved to Lily for the check.

  "Need anything at the store?" I asked Max before she got in her car. "My house is a ways outside of town."

  "I think I'm good. If I need anything, I'll make the trip back in."

  "Suit yourself." I was glad Max didn't seem like a ridiculously high maintenance chick. I didn't want to have to share my house with a pain in the ass.

  I pulled out of the lot and made sure Max followed. While I drove, I thought about what Tombley might want from me. I got that he didn't want his agent at risk, but what the hell did he think I could do about it? I wondered if he was thinking about pulling Max out altogether. I figured that the only way I was gonna find out was to call him.

  When I pulled into the drive from the road, I didn't feel the sense of relief that I was used to. I hadn't realized quite how anxious I was going to be about having Max around. I felt like my privacy was being invaded. It was just over a mile down the drive before we finally reached my house -- set into a shallow depression that hid it from view from all directions. The only way you'd be able to see the house at all would be if you were on a mountain with binoculars. I took my privacy seriously. I'd always fantasized about having a house so remote that I could fuck on the front porch if I wanted to, but in the years since I'd built it, I hadn't found a single girl that I even considered taking home. I laughed as I thought to myself that maybe that meant that I should quit fucking hookers.