Brooke was mean and cruel about the details, too. She’d begin telling Kaitlin about some tantric sex position with a man sporting a ten-inch cock, then stop, laugh and say something along the lines of, “Oh, but you don’t even know what I’m talking about. You’re still a virgin,” as though virginity was a disease to be ashamed of.
Just once Kaitlin wanted the conversation not to circle around to her limited personal knowledge of sex.
Hence her plan for Zak to relieve her of her hated innocence.
One time, just one single time, Kaitlin would like to be one up on Brooke. Just once she wanted to act nonchalant about a recent affair and teasingly withhold the details because she actually had a sex life instead of not having anything at all to share.
She’d even tried lying during Brooke’s last visit, insisting she wasn’t a virgin anymore. Not only did Brooke threaten to tattletale to their parents, she then asked pointed questions, doing her best to catch Kaitlin in the lie. Kaitlin didn’t have answers because she didn’t actually know firsthand, for example, what a man’s dick looked like fully erect. Not beyond what she’d learned in sex ed, that is. And she’d been too ashamed to look up pictures online or in a book in the library. What if someone caught her?
Nor did she have the first clue what it felt like to have that fully erect dick buried to the hilt in her body. Sure, she’d read about it, but her paltry imagination was no match for Brooke, the ultimate sexpert. Kaitlin couldn’t pull off the bluff.
When Brooke had called her on it, Kaitlin had told her weakly that she’d only been kidding and faked a laugh.
Thrilled, Brooke became even more obnoxious. She’d gone on and on about poor, pitiful Kaitlin having to invent a relationship because she didn’t have what it took to attract a real man to fuck her. It had been horrible.
Kaitlin knew she shouldn’t care what Brooke thought, but after half a lifetime of her stepsister’s ridicule, she just wanted to win once. She deserved a big check in the winner’s column one effing time, didn’t she?
The moment she heard Brooke’s throaty voice over the phone this morning, Kaitlin immediately thought about her continued virginal status and how she didn’t want it any longer. Her next thought had been about her bad-boy neighbor, more specifically, his perfect ass.
Truthfully, she’d been looking for candidates to remove her virginity since she’d moved to town. Her selection was limited to strangers passing through or temporary residents planning to move on soon, but she hadn’t found any.
Until Zak moved in.
Contrary to Mrs. Waverly’s assumptions, Kaitlin didn’t think he was planning to stay in this small town for the six months of his lease. From the little she had observed, he seemed like someone who moved around a lot, making him the perfect man for her needs. It was another stereotype, but she hoped it was true.
After she’d started watching Zak on a regular basis, Kaitlin wanted to know more than ever what it felt like to have sex, and her interest had nothing to do with Brooke and her foolish cruel streak. Even if Zak stayed in town longer than six months, she still wanted to learn the secrets of passion, skin-to-skin contact, sex, and most of all kissing. From him.
She’d been kissed before. However, not one kiss had been the stuff sonnets were written about. Maybe it was her. Perhaps she didn’t inspire the kind of kiss she dreamed about. The usual dry, quick contact—feeling much like a hen pecking up corn from a barnyard—hadn’t inspired her to want more.
She wanted a real kiss. A lip-licking, tonsil-tickling French kiss that she’d hold dear for a lifetime and fondly remember on her deathbed. Was that so much to ask?
Not only did Zak have a wickedly sensual mouth, but just watching him straddle his motorcycle made all manner of things in her body tingle and moisten every time she saw him. He made her pulse spike and her heart thud hard enough to break through her chest. Kaitlin needed to ask him if he’d be interested in having sex with her. Soon. Now.
Starting a conversation with Zak would be difficult, since she could barely stare at him without breaking out in heat. That was irrelevant. Do or die, any sex would have to take place this afternoon or tonight. Brooke would be here tomorrow.
Chapter Two
Zak watched the recently vacated window, smiling as he saw the curtains flutter. His prim, sexy neighbor was staring at him again. Given the many women showing up at the garage to stare, drool or attempt to lure him away, he figured she was another in a long line looking for a bad boy to satisfy whatever fantasies good girls conjured up.
He was flattered, of course, at all the attention. It didn’t hurt his ego a bit to have women chasing after him on a daily basis. But none of them were as intriguing or as enticing as his reclusive next-door neighbor.
Zak had taken note of her as soon as he’d moved in. The only time she came outside was to feed the homeless cat who’d taken up residence on her back porch. The first time she bent over to put a bowl of food down for the little beastie, ninety-nine percent of his blood flow had gone south, leaving him light-headed but smiling. The view of her ass was quite spectacular. In fact, the rest of her was also very easy on the eyes and a pleasure to watch.
He knew from his landlady that her name was Kaitlin and she worked as a bookkeeper for the school district. She was pretty. Obviously shy. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t more than a little intrigued. But he wasn’t chasing after her. It wasn’t why he was here. He had something to take care of, hopefully in the short term, and then he’d be gone to the next undercover job.
Although, of all the women seeking him out, she was the only one he’d be hard-pressed to ignore. If she got up enough courage to approach him, he’d at least chat with her. It would be the neighborly thing to do.
They hadn’t been officially introduced, but his landlady had been quick to tell him there was a very nice single girl living next door. He knew Mrs. Waverly, bless her heart, wanted to match them up in the worst way, but that wasn’t a good idea for a whole host of reasons.
The first, and most important, was he didn’t plan on being here much longer. It would be wrong to start a relationship with a nice single girl from this small town, and then ditch her without a word when his job was done.
Secondly, his demanding, dangerous career didn’t lend itself well to girlfriends, especially sweet ones like he suspected his neighbor was.
And finally, Zak Thornton wasn’t his real name. It was a total dick move to romance a girl using a fake name and a fake life. Knowing the fluid way this job was going, he could be here one hour and gone the next. It all depended on the lowlife scumbags he was hanging out with and their criminal plans.
Honestly, he hadn’t expected to attract any attention. In his mind, he looked like a ragged beast. Perhaps the bad-boy persona he’d copied for this job had unintended consequences. Like attracting a nice girl looking to reform a bad boy. Next time he’d think his look through better.
There were some pluses to his Thornton alias. He didn’t have to shave regularly or keep his hair cut to a military length, and he got to ride a badass motorcycle. But it was all a facade. His rugged look, shaggy-haired and unshaven, suited the man he was supposed to be. While Zak Thornton was exactly the kind of man who would love to hook up with the nice single girl next door for a quick, satisfying fuck as needed, Zak Langston wasn’t the kind of guy who’d use a woman for his own convenience.
Especially not one he’d never see again.
Undercover for over three weeks, not counting the week of prep before he arrived here, his connections had brought him to this small town and the bad guy flavor of the month he was after. He’d carefully crafted this persona to match what Diego Demarco would expect. But even with the best grungy bachelor perks, Zak was ready for this assignment to be over. He wanted to get back to his regularly scheduled life. Such as it was. And often, it was lonely. Until the next job from The Organization came along to occupy his time.
How much longer did he plan to do this shit? He didn’t know. He longe
d for the day when the nice girl next door would be one he could actually take the time to pursue. As much as he looked like a badass fucker of nice girl-virginal types, chasing after his own pleasures at all times regardless of the consequences, he wasn’t that man.
Zak glanced up at the window again. He didn’t see her. She usually didn’t take a second peek after he looked over, but most days he wished she would. Perhaps she only noted his arrival on the loud motorcycle. The ride he wished he could keep after this mission. His bike was sweet. Would the girl next door maybe want a ride on it? Or maybe a ride on him?
The sudden vision of his prim and proper neighbor hugged up behind him on the leather seat, her arms clenching his middle as he wove through cones laying the bike down on one side then the other as he tried to scare her into hugging him tighter, filled his imagination and also stirred his dick in a more amorous direction.
The curtains at the window were still moving a bit.
Maybe one of these days he’d surprise her and knock on her door. He wondered what she’d say, what she’d do. Would she invite him in? Make him dinner? Take him to bed?
Reality stepped in and slapped him on the back of the head. He’d secured this rental for six months, but knew now it wouldn’t take that long to complete this mission. The job he was on would likely be over in a matter of a week or two, probably less. He didn’t need to start anything with his nice neighbor, no matter how attractive she was.
Luckily, she seemed too shy to initiate anything herself. As long as he kept his distance, he’d be fine. And very soon he’d be gone. She’d be a memory he’d treasure. Perhaps he’d come back as his real self and see if she recognized him all cleaned up, shaved, shorter hair and driving his four-door sedan.
But would she even be interested in his real, non-bad-boy self?
He shook his head. That was a bad idea.
Zak forced his mind back to the job at hand. He was waiting for a phone call that the deal he’d proposed would be accepted. Once they made the trade, his cash for the illegal merchandise promised, Zak would go on his merry way. As soon as the local gang spent even one dollar of the money, the feds would be all over them.
Sometimes Zak stuck around to be arrested, too, but this was a different setup. He didn’t have to be arrested to maintain his cover. He was only here to initiate the ultimate takedown and let the criminals hang themselves by spending dirty money and spreading it around to all their associates. This might be a digital age, but cash was anonymous and still ruled many illegal operations.
Zak walked to the front of his rented house. He actually looked forward to coming home at night. Furnished housing was always preferable, and Mrs. Waverly had done a nice job with this place. He’d make sure and check in the after-report for any repercussions against this rental. He’d make an anonymous donation to his also very nice landlady in case there were reprisals after he was gone. Once Demarco learned that the money was tainted, he might send thugs here to trash the place. It wasn’t uncommon. It had certainly happened before.
The ancient land-line phone rang in the house as he entered. His first thought was that his shy neighbor was finally calling him. Maybe Mrs. Waverly had given her his number. He picked up before the end of the third ring.
“Yes,” he said into the receiver with a much softer tone than he usually reserved for the scumbag criminals he associated with.
“You need to get down here. Something’s up.” Julio sounded panicked. The guy who’d helped him get a meeting with the local target dealer was usually pretty calm.
It was Julio’s own fault he was in the position he found himself in. Still, when all was said and done, Zak hoped to get him out of it if he cooperated with The Organization.
It wasn’t a coincidence they worked at the same garage. Julio had been Zak’s initial target as a possible way into the tightly-knit organization Zak’s superiors wanted taken down. His father had founded the group, and Julio was a reluctant member.
Julio might have to spend the rest of his life in witness protection, but only if all went well here. Zak hoped Julio would be smart enough to take whatever the federal system offered him to start a new life, but he couldn’t force him.
“What’s wrong?” Zak asked, keeping his voice deliberately calm.
“Diego is on his way to the Playground.” The bar on the outskirts of town, aptly called the Devil’s Playground, was Demarco’s unofficial headquarters and where he did the bulk of his eclectic business.
“Right now? I thought he was out of the country until next week.”
“One of his lieutenants just got picked up on a weapons charge. He’s in jail out in LA pending arraignment. Diego is worried someone set his guy up.”
“He won’t talk, will he? The lieutenant?” Zak silently rooted for Diego’s LT to do just that. Spill his guts, tell every little detail, and make Zak’s job here easier.
Julio made a snorting noise. “Nah. He’ll do a full prison stretch before giving up a hint of information.”
“So why is Diego worried?” Zak pushed out a silent breath and hoped this complication didn’t impact his work here.
“Diego’s afraid there’s a rat in his organization. Now he’s being cautious of all new associations.”
Fuck. This was not going to help Zak with his undercover operation. In fact, it was the opposite of help. Unfortunate, since he’d already invested quite a bit of time, manpower and a healthy amount of his division’s financial resources into it, including the six-month rental agreement for a great price on a nice rental house owned by an even nicer landlady.
“He’s changing things up to flush out the traitor. He’s trying not to be predictable, you know?”
“Yeah. Sure. Understandable, I guess. Whatever.” Zak pretended indifference when inside his gut churned as he speculated on the fallout of pulling up stakes here and canceling this job.
“How fast can you get here? Diego’s ready to meet with you to discuss the deal today.”
“I thought he was being cautious.”
“He is. But the sooner you can convince him you’re legit, the sooner he can move on to someone else, you dig?”
“Right.” Fuck.
“Are you on the way here, man? You should already be on your bike. I don’t hear it.”
“Getting there quickly is not the problem, Julio.” He moved toward his front door. “Doing the deal today instead of next week is obviously much sooner than I expected.”
“Are you in or not?”
“I’m in,” he said quickly. “I’ll be out there to deal, but I won’t have the cash on me, right? I don’t just have my cash sitting around in my place, you know what I mean? Any problem with that?”
Julio was quiet for the space of three heartbeats. “I’m vouching for you, Zak. You better not double-cross Diego and come up empty handed, or he’ll take it out on both of us.”
Zak well knew Demarco’s view on those who disappointed him. Typically, he eliminated them quietly, and well before any other justice could be served.
“Julio, come on. It’s me. Why would I do that? I have the payroll to purchase his product and a very lucrative new market to sell it in. I came into some cash from a benefactor and now both of us will get rich. Besides, this isn’t the only deal I intend to do. This is just a first-time buy to get the introductions out of the way. The thing is, it would be stupid to keep that kind of cash here with me, right?”
“I guess—”
Zak cut him off. “Do you carry that kind of cheddar, Julio?”
“No.” The tone of his voice said he finally understood Zak’s dilemma. “You’re right, Zak. You’d be stupid to in this town.”
“Exactly. I’m not stupid. So if the meet is right now, great. We’ll meet and discuss the deal. But I won’t have the money on me.” Because I also need time to have my tech guys put the trackers on the bills. Technology these days fucking rocked. Like James Bond’s best wet dream, there was little that wasn’t possible in the world of
gadgets.
“I can bring the bankroll back to him later in private after we hammer out the specifics of the arrangement.” Actually, this would work out better. The payoff place didn’t have to be in town. Maybe he could schedule it for miles out into the barren area between this town and the next. There would be less possibility of any civilian interference or casualties that way.
“Right. I hear you. Just be at the bar in ten minutes.”
“Done. See you there.”
Zak started to make a call on his cell phone to get his team working on the money, glancing at the wall clock as he moved to his front door. Demarco was also obsessive about meetings starting on time. Zak needed to leave in the next thirty seconds to make it to the bar in time.
Instead of a phone call, he sent a cryptic text to alert his handler and the higher ups that the deal was coming together sooner than expected. He grabbed his helmet and headed for the door he’d just come in. Later he’d make a call and have the tagged money delivered or put in a place he could direct Demarco and crew to.
He snatched the door open. His prim, sexy neighbor stood there, arm raised, obviously about to knock. She held a plate in one hand with a cloth napkin draped over the top. Shit. He didn’t have time to deal with her. He barely had time to make it to the bar as it was.
Without acknowledging her verbally, he barged outside and turned his back on her as he locked the door behind him. Spinning around again, he saw her uncertain smile. Her mouth opened, and she said, “Hi. I wanted to offer a belated welcome—”
“Sorry. I’m in a hurry. I can’t talk right now.” The scent of warm blueberry muffins registered by the time he was halfway down his front stairs, jamming his helmet on his head. The other, more visceral, stimulating scent was all her. And he loved it. It was surely his imagination, but she smelled like sex. Unfortunately, now was not the time he could explore that.
Without looking directly at her, he got on his Harley, fired it up and quickly wheeled it around to do a wide U-turn in the shared driveway. A check in his mirror showed she was still on his porch when he roared away down the street, headed to what would hopefully be the end of his time here.
Biker (Bad Boys in Big Trouble Book 1) Page 2