by Rie Warren
Biz as usual.
Back at the MC, 01:30 was like morning reveille at Thunder Road, the bar fronting the Legion outpost and headquarters. Everyone was wide awake, in high spirits, and living large like it was their last day on earth.
I cut company with Slade and Angel, stalking down the halls until I hit Venom’s office.
If he was surprised to see me alive, he didn’t show it.
He simply laid a clean glass out for me and poured the drink du jour.
“There’s a fire down on the wharf?” he asked.
“Minor diversion.” I sank down on the sofa and took my tequila as was my due.
Neat. Burning. A head-clearer.
Setting down the empty glass once I’d drained it, I made myself all comfortable with an arm across the back of the couch and one foot crossed at my knee. “Now you’re outfitting terrorists, Venom?”
“It’s a whole new world. Expansion rights.”
“Well, that’s one philosophy.” I glanced at his bookcases, heavily laden with a multitude of books by famous philosophers, which maybe made him think he was something other than a coked-up MC thug. “At least no one can call you a racist. You know, playing in the dirty Saudi sandbox and all.”
“Those ones were from Syria.”
“You might be right. They all look the same to me.”
He held up the bottle.
I dipped my head.
Another glass filled. Another drink downed.
Still completely clear-headed.
“Ain’t that the truth.” He turned his chair sideways. “Besides, didn’t think you were all too fired up to meet with the Taco Mafia again.”
“Now that I’d call racist.”
He snorted a laugh—making the tattoos that dripped down onto his forehead wrinkle.
“Tell me something.” I stood up and absentmindedly thumbed through the books on the shelf. “Did you expect me to die tonight?”
“I don’t think you’ve outlived your sell-by date, Storm. But you’re on a short leash.”
“Good to know.”
“Lucky for you most of the towelheads survived.”
Again with the race relations.
“One more thing.” Moving to the door, I glanced back.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“I don’t want Angel working with Burn again.”
“Anymore edicts, Storm?”
“That’ll do.” I pulled the door closed behind me.
Another bullet dodged.
But for how long?
Ah, fuck it.
I needed a real drink.
And I needed to catch up with Blaize.
Lo and behold, when I reached the bar I spotted her immediately. She was all cozied up to Sharon.
I sidled over to the pair, rapping my knuckles on the bar for a drink. “You didn’t tell me you were going out, cher.”
“I didn’t know I needed permission.” Blaize slanted those big blues at me, blinking with the perfect blend of innocence I didn’t buy for one instance.
I took my beer and my shot and set them down. With my hands on Blaize’s hips, I moved in to stand behind her. “You don’t need it. But I need you.”
Her bottle halted halfway to her lips as I nuzzled the side of her neck.
“I went shopping with Sharon,” she murmured softly.
Shar looked on, amusement glittering her eyes.
Kissing the nape of Blaize’s neck, I crooned, “Show me what you got.”
She swung in my direction, and I stepped back to get the best view possible.
What a view it was.
Her long legs were bare and gleaming, leading up to a soft suede mini skirt all topped by a halter top that bared a sliver of toned skin at her stomach.
Everything perfectly suited for very easy access. Access I wanted to make full use of.
I cupped her waist again and slid my fingers over her bared silky flesh, watching chills cascade across her skin.
Nice.
Drawing Blaize forward, I snugged up between her spread legs. “I like it.”
“I can see that.” Her fingers drifted down my hard-packed stomach and just one more inch she’d hit a hard-packed cock. “But you have a hanger-on.”
I glanced behind me to find Nikki with murder in her eyes.
Knew it was too good to be true.
“I gotta hit the can. Be right back.” I disengaged from Blaize, and Sharon started lining up shots on the bar.
I heard her saying to Blaize, “Those two got a long history, sister.”
The john wasn’t really my destination, and I probably wouldn’t have made it anyway, because the closer I got to Nikki the more pissed she looked.
I never liked the shrew-look on a woman.
“Outside. Now.” I grabbed her arm and hauled her behind me.
On the sidewalk, Sol took one look at the two of us and quickly checked out of the vicinity.
“Bring it on, Nikki.” I freed her arm and stationed myself for her blow.
“TWO FUCKING YEARS!”
Smack.
“C’mon. You got than that in ya.” I took the slightly stinging strike without even recoiling. “Because this is the last and only time I’m gonna let you have a go at me.”
“You left me.” She lit into my midsection, pumping away with fists that were mostly ineffectual. “I didn’t know where you were. If you’d come back to me!”
I stood there taking it until she ran out of steam.
“Nikki.” I pulled her into my arms. “I never promised you anything.”
“We were lovers.”
“Were. We weren’t in love.”
“You were protection.” She raised her head, glaring at me.
“That’s right. That’s all. And a good fuck.” I arched my eyebrow. “You’re your own woman. You don’t need to play house with no man. Least of all me.”
“What about her?” She spat out.
“Her? Blaize?”
“Yes. Blaize.” Nikki stepped away from me and stomped her foot on the pavement.
I hooked my thumbs at my waist. “Here’s the thing about that. I don’t own her. Not at all. But she possesses me body and soul. And I don’t deserve the favor, but I’d ask you all the same to make her welcome.”
“Sharon already has.”
“But Blaize knows about our history. It’d mean double coming from you.”
“Then kiss me one last time, Nash.”
She strolled up to me. Lord, but I had wanted her, in those days when I’d had nothing else. She’d been the honey pot.
Still was.
Just not for me.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Nikki.”
“I can’t believe Nash LaFontaine finally fell for someone.” She pouted delicately.
I didn’t answer, merely walked over to the door and held it open for her.
“I think I’ll stay outside a bit. Catch the night air. I always did like it best just before dawn.”
“Yes. You did.” I looked at her silhouette a final time before heading back inside.
I rejoined Blaize at the bar. Funny. She looked as content as a kitten playing with a ball of yarn as she curled her hand loosely around her drink, but her smile was nothing short of razor sharp. Her words? Equally sharp.
“Got that outta your system?” she lashed out.
“That?” Jesus. I’d just talked down one angry woman. Now I had to deal with Blaize getting in my face?
I laid my elbow on the bar, digging a cigarette from my leathers I probably wouldn’t get the chance to smoke before Blaize exploded her wrath all over me.
“Nikki,” she hissed loudly.
“She was a sweetheart, nuthin’ more.”
“That is not what I heard.” Blaize practically chucked the remainder of her drink down her throat.
“Mind if I smoke?” I asked, almost laughing.
Seemed to me Blaize was—dare I say it—goddamn motherfucking straight-up-je
alous.
She snatched the Zippo from my hand. “Yes. I mind. I mind everything about this. You all easy come, easy go.” She grabbed the cigarette from between my lips, sank it between her own, and lit up.
She inhaled then blew smoke rings up toward the ceiling.
“Can I have a drag?” I watched her, trying not to grin.
“Get your own.”
I didn’t bother pointing out the one she was busily chewing down to the butt—when I knew she didn’t even really smoke—was my own. Instead I shrugged—easy come, easy go—and flipped another Red from the soft pack.
Blaize watched my every move, her blue eyes as hard as slate.
I took a deep drag. Rolled my neck. Accepted a drink. “Ahhhh. Bien. That’s better.”
“You’ve got some never-ending nerve, Nash LaFontaine.” Blaize swept her sexy red hair over shoulder.
“That so?”
She didn’t miss a beat, her finger pointed at my barrel-hard chest. “Bringing me here. Acting like the fucking prodigal son come home—”
All the dudes in the bar cheered at us.
“Where you have your secret stash of snatch—”
Another cheer went up in my direction.
Blaize thundered on. “Nikki? Who else? Who else has been in my bed? Between your legs? On your cock?”
Holy fuck. I didn’t know if she was serious or not, but this public show of mine-mine-mine was making me hard.
“You wanna take this upstairs?” Hell. I didn’t have anything to lose and just enough booze-plus-bravado to lay her down on the bed and give her all of me.
Blaize grabbed me by the front of the shirt, hauling me down to her mouth. “You bet I want to take this upstairs.”
Making a big show of letting the little woman lead me to the stairs, I winked at the dudes.
What I got in return?
Catcalls and loud whistles.
Once inside the bedroom, I planted myself in place while Blaize slammed the door shut and locked us in.
“I was hoping you’d drag me up here.” I grinned. “Wanna fuck?”
Chapter Fourteen
NOT the Big Easy
“WANNA TELL ME WHAT went down tonight?” Blaize made no advances on me.
“Wait.” I squinted at her. “You mean that shit you had flying downstairs was just a ploy to get me upstairs to talk?”
“I’m not interested in what happened between you and Nikki.” She jutted out her chin. Her tits too.
“Not interested in fucking either, I take it?”
“Storm. Do I need to remind you what’s at stake here?”
“Ah shit.” Sitting down, I tugged off my boots and socks. “I was really looking forward to getting laid rather than talking.” I placed a hand on top of my groin where my dick was hard and pulsing.
Blaize watched, and there was no mistaking my erection against the tight leather.
She averted her gaze. “I think we should talk.”
“How do you know the room isn’t bugged?”
“I think I did a pretty clean sweep of it earlier, your highness.”
I scanned the area, crossing my arms behind my neck.
Yep, the room was clean and fresh and all aired out thanks to her.
“Did a pretty damn good job.” I smiled, teasing her, testing her.
I liked it when her temper flared hot.
She narrowed her eyes at my jab but kept on point.
I didn’t like it so much when Blaize maintained mission orientation.
In an attempt to distract her one last time, I took off my leather jacket and the tight shirt underneath. My skin was deeply tanned, the muscles bunching, flexing, releasing from my neck to my shoulders to my pecs to my abs.
I laid a hand on my belly, rubbing the line of black hair that trailed into the deep vertical groove of my stomach.
Blaize made a noise in her throat, almost a whimper.
I popped open the first button on my leathers.
She inhaled deeply and plopped onto the end of the bed, sitting as far away from me as possible.
Well, at least I knew she wasn’t immune.
I licked my lips.
She followed the action, and when she spoke next her voice was lighter, ragged, breathy. “What happened at the exchange?”
“A whole bunch of bad juju, that’s what.”
“What’s your take on this Slade guy?” she asked.
Goddammit. Now I had to get into mission-mode, too. I hunched forward with my elbows on my spread knees.
“He knows TATP on an intimate basis apparently. Used words only an operative would—”
“Like what?”
“Disavowed for one. Mother of Satan for another. Tight motherfucker. Wouldn’t tell me where he came from. Didn’t even try to make some shit up, just flat out refused.”
Blaze frowned. “And he wears his watch-face on the inside. Just like you. By the way, you need to cut that shit out.”
I looked down at my wrist where the watch faced inward. Undoing the fat leather band, I quickly refastened it. “I know. Irritates the fuck outta me this way though.”
Standing, I lit a smoke and opened the gallery door. “So we think he’s inside? Sleeper agent? Or an outside threat?”
“We’ll need to get to the safe house, have Justice run him through the system.”
“It wasn’t the cartel at the drop, by the way.”
Blaize joined me, sneaking the cigarette from my lips to bring it to her own.
For some reason that was so fucking hot, but I admonished in a gruff voice, “And you need to cut that shit out.”
“I’ll get the patch when we’re done here. Smoking comes with the territory, and the truth is, I like it. Calms my nerves. I like it but not enough to make a lifelong habit of it.” Her eyes wandered over my bare chest, my skin very, very close to her touch.
“You like me too,” I husked out.
Her head fell back, and she closed her eyes, passing the cigarette back to me. “I do.” She peered at me, standing there in the open doorway with the sultry late night breeze washing over us. “But not enough to make a lifelong habit of it.”
“You think I’m an addiction?” I caressed one finger down her cheek.
“You could be.” She stepped a pace back. “What else about the drop tonight?”
“Terrorists delivered the cocaine and collected the shipment of guns.” I put out the smoke and ambled back inside, shutting the door behind Blaize.
“What we expected.”
“Yep. Not that it matters. Taking the Legion down is just a drop in the bucket.” I reclaimed my chair, facing the doorway to the room.
“Baby steps, Storm.” Blaize stopped in front of me, teasing me with those damnable long legs in the minuscule skirt.
“I’m a pretty big man. Don’t know how to do baby steps.” Pulling her into my lap, I nuzzled my lips against her neck, slid my palm up her legs.
She warmed quickly to my touch even though she said, “I don’t think we should be getting close like this.”
I skimmed my nose up her neck and lightly touched the tip of my tongue to the lobe of her ear. “And you already know what I think.”
I drew her closer, settling us deep in the chair.
Her hands sifted through the hair I’d grown even longer than usual for this op. “What about you? The first time you were here?”
I leaned into her, almost chuffing like a big, contented panther when she stroked her fingers through my hair. “You saw my file.”
“Reading words in black and white is a hell of a lot different than hearing them in person. You know that.”
“Mmm. You keep playing with my hair, and I’ll tell you any damn thing you like.” I shifted her on my legs, making sure my unflagging erection rubbed her hip.
“You like that?” Her fingertips circled the skin at the base of my neck.
“Oh yeah.” I blew out a breath, stroking the bare skin inside the back of her shirt. “Is this h
ow you get perps to talk?”
“I don’t take personal contact lightly, Storm, if that’s what you’re asking. Do you?”
I scrunched her shirt higher. “No.”
“And you don’t like people in your space.”
“Not usually.”
“Me?”
“Fuck. I’d rent you a goddamn room in my head, woman.” I squinted one eye open at her. “But if you’re playin’ me . . .”
“I don’t use sex for information.”
My hips jerked up at the mention of sex.
“And I don’t fuck men I don’t truly know.”
“Blaize.” I gripped her hips, every part of me hard and horny and ready for her.
But the talking about myself thing?
Not so into that.
She curled her fingers in my hair, yanking it with force. “I can interrogate you if you want it that way.”
Fu-uck. A jolt of hot want hit me in the balls.
“I’ll talk.” I gulped. “Just keep sitting here.”
She nestled her ass around on my stiff cock where she had to feel it throbbing through my pants and her skirt. “Right here?”
“Blaize. I am real close to hiking up your skirt and ripping off your panties—”
“Who says I’m wearing any?”
“Wrong fucking answer.” The muscles bunching in my forearms, I started teasing her shirt off. “Why don’t you get more comfortable?”
“There will be no naked chat, Storm.”
“Damn. Always playin’ hardball.”
“That’s the only way I play. You know that.”
“Shit.” My head thunked back against the chair. “All right. The part about the drug rehab. True story. That was the one thing expunged from my record before you saw it.”
Blaize dropped her head to my shoulder, kissing me there. “I’m sorry.”
“Like you said. For you it’s smokes. For me it was sex and drugs. I had to play my part and prove myself. Developed the coke problem. Couldn’t control it.”
“And now?”
“Hell. I don’t have a taste for it anymore.” I stroked her waist, keeping my hands shirt-side up. “Venom will offer it. He’ll expect me to do it. I’ll just tell him it’d be like snorting our own revenues, which ain’t very prudent.”