Heaven Hill Series - Complete Series

by Laramie Briscoe

  He was on edge after his afternoon and evening with Christine. She was driving him insane. Every day she seemed to accept him more and become more comfortable with his presence, but on the same token, it was killing him. Their kiss this evening played in the forefront of his mind, like a looping movie. He’d never wanted a woman this bad in his life. As a member of the Heaven Hill MC, he usually had his pick of women, although he rarely ever indulged. It just seemed easier that way. When you did indulge, you had women that thought they were going to be wearing your patch the next day, and that wasn’t what he wanted. It hadn’t ever been what he wanted.

  Rolling his head around on his shoulders, he let out a deep breath and glanced at his watch. It was almost time to turn in. First, he had to do his nightly ritual. When he’d wired up security at Christine’s house, at her request he had put cameras in different rooms. She was aware that one was in her bedroom. He looked in on her every night before she went to bed. Christine Stone was a creature of habit; every night, no matter if it was weekday or weekend, if she was home, she was in bed at 11 PM. Tonight, when he flipped the switch to see her house and to hone in on that room, he was surprised to see the small bedside lamp on—it was 11:20.

  “Shit, I hope she’s not fucking running,” he muttered as he zoomed in.

  What he saw there made him gasp and his eyes widen. Christine’s lower body was covered by a thin sheet, which was unusual in and of itself. Normally, even in the heat of summer, she used a thick blanket. Very plainly, he could see her right hand in between her legs while her left hand was at her breast. It made him a bastard, but he got up from his chair and quickly shut the door to his cave. When the door was shut, no one came in, and he knew that he wanted this to be an absolutely private performance.

  Getting back over to his chair, he groaned loudly. The sheet was now gone from her lower body, kicked off by the scissoring of her thighs. It wasn’t indecent, she was still fully clothed, but he could see her hand working her core under her lacy underwear, and the hand at her breast now worked her nipple that was hard against the fabric of her T-shirt. Steele knew he should look away, but she was so goddamn gorgeous, so uninhibited, he couldn’t.

  Her head had fallen back against the pillow, exposing the length of her neck, making him wish he were there to drop kisses along that column. Maybe nip his teeth along the smooth skin that he knew was there. He’d been close to her enough times to know just how smooth that skin was.

  “C’mon, baby,” he mumbled as he turned the sound on for that camera. Immediately, he could hear the soft panting of her breath.

  Her mouth now hung open and her chest heaved. The fingers at her core had picked up speed, and now she lifted herself off the bed in a rhythm almost as if she was imagining them together in bed.

  Steele’s clothes felt tight against his body as he watched her dig her heels into the mattress. As he watched the hand that had been at her breast move down to the hem of her shirt, he sat entranced as she lifted it up, revealing her naked breast.

  “Ohhh,” she moaned with what sounded like frustration. It was obvious that she needed a little more. He wanted to be there to give her more.

  “Don’t stop,” he encouraged her; even though he knew she couldn’t hear him. He felt like an asshole of the worst kind, but there was absolutely no way he could look away. She knew that he had the ability to see her at any time, and after the frustration of the afternoon, he had to wonder if this was her way of inviting him in. If this was her telling him that she was going to be there when he came back in the morning. He hoped to hell it was. For the first time in a very long time, he threw up a silent prayer.

  She tugged firmly at her nipple, gripping it hard, before bringing her finger up to her mouth. He could see her pink tongue snake out, wetting the tip, before bringing it back down to soothe the abused piece of flesh.

  His tongue snaked out of its own accord, moistening his bottom lip. How he wanted that to be his tongue on her flesh, his fingers inside her, his body covering her. He was entranced as he watched—a light sheen of sweat could be seen coating her chest as she arched her back, shoving her head harder back against the pillow. Her dark hair was stark against the white pillowcase, and it made him want to bury his hands in her hair, to take control of her pleasure, the way he’d tried to that afternoon.

  At his desk, Travis put his hands out, gripping the hard wood, his body tight with tension. He wanted her to get there almost as badly as if he was the one driving her body to orgasm. “Let it go,” he whispered, as he watched a bead of sweat roll down her neck.

  It was almost like she heard him. The panting reached a fevered pitch and her mouth opened wide. Harsh breaths, choppy in their cadence, escaped before she took the hand off her breast and covered her mouth with it. Her scream was muffled, but her eyes looked directly into the camera. When she was done, she licked her lips and blew out a deep breath. It was then that he not only heard, but saw, the name Travis on her lips. Within seconds, she’d reached over and turned the light off.

  “Damn,” he breathed, sagging against the chair he sat in. This woman was going to be the absolute death of him.

  Chapter Eleven

  The thought of running had crossed Christine’s mind many times the night before, especially after she had put on her show for Travis, but something happened in the early hours of the morning. She wondered when it would stop. When would she be able to stop running? When would she ever be able to have a normal life again? It was at her fingertips right now, and she knew that. What would it help anyone if she just gave up? Why did she fight so hard to leave if she was going to live the rest of her life in fear?

  It was 5 AM when she texted Travis and let him know that he could come get her. The best place for her to be was obviously at the Heaven Hill clubhouse, even if that meant seeing Jagger again. She hated that she was going to spring this on him, that she wasn’t going to be able to ease him into it, but perhaps that was for the best. Especially, if like everyone said, he thought her dead. Hell, he might not even recognize her now; after everything that had happened, sometimes she almost didn’t recognize herself.

  An hour after she sent Travis the text, she was still sitting on her couch, worrying that she had made the wrong decision, when she heard the rumble of a vehicle pull into her driveway. She could hear the code being punched in, and she knew that it was Travis. The thought caused her heart to skip a beat. Was this going to be awkward after what she had done in front of him the night before?

  “You sure you want to do this?” he asked, coming into the house and shutting the door. He avoided looking her in the face, but his gaze swept over her body.

  “I am.” She nodded; she couldn’t help the blush that reddened her face.

  His dark eyes regarded her. He looked for the doubt and fear he had seen there so many times before. Now, though, it was gone, and he was happy for that, happy that she seemed to have, somehow, made up her mind on her own. He had felt awful, backing her into a wall, but in essence Rooster had backed Heaven Hill into a wall, and there was nothing that the group of them could do without each other.

  “Then I brought a truck, so that we could bring your stuff to the clubhouse.”

  “Okay.” She walked over to where she’d packed her suitcases. Everything else had come with the house. The only thing she needed was her car, and they had both known that her clothes and knickknacks wouldn’t fit in there.

  “Jagger’s not there,” he answered the question that was in her eyes. “He and B have an apartment. More often than not, he sleeps there. He slept there last night, and he has first shift at Walker’s Wheels this morning, so unless someone blows the whistle on us, you won’t have to see him until at least tonight.

  That made her feel a little better. “I know this is something I’m going to have to deal with.”

  “You’re also going to need to officially tell us the truth about Clinton Herrington.”

  She started at the name.

  “I
t’s what I do, babe. I don’t need a lot to go on. I can figure out pretty much anything about anyone if I just have a little bit of information.”

  “Did you find out anything about me?” she asked softly.

  “I want you to tell me everything about you.” He tentatively reached up and moved her hair behind her ear. “I want you to offer it, I don’t want to go behind your back and find out shit. That’s no way for either of us to build trust.”

  She knew that he was right, and while his hands on her face made her heart kick up a beat, it also felt good. It felt right. Unlike how she had felt when Clinton would touch her. “Thank you.”

  He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “My pleasure. Now let’s get your stuff and get the fuck outta here. We need to find out exactly who wants you back.”

  “I’m sure it’s him,” she told Travis, her eyes watering.

  “It might be and it might not be. Either way, nobody is going to get you while I’m on watch.” The promise was in his voice, and they both hoped that he would be able to keep it. “By the way, thanks for the show last night. I didn’t get much sleep, if you were wondering.”

  It felt weird to be following Travis as he drove a truck. They were going further out into Warren County than she had ever been. The turn-off they took at Porter Pike was one that she had always avoided—actively avoided at that. It made her sick to her stomach as they got further out the country road. Her hands were sweaty against the steering wheel, but she refused to let go. She could see him check back to make sure she was still with him every few miles. It made her feel better, even as it made her nervous.

  They got to a gravel driveway, and Travis signaled that they would be turning into it. She did the same. It was with great care he took her down the drive, going slow so as not to throw up dust on the hood of her car. As they rounded a bend, what she assumed was the clubhouse came into view. He stopped the truck in front of where two women stood and got out, waiting for her to put her car in park, turn the engine off, and follow suit.

  “Is this where you’ve been at all hours of the night?” one of them teased Travis.

  “Jess, not right now,” he laughed uneasily, thinking about the night before.

  The other woman who stood next to the one he’d called Jess stepped forward and held her hand out. “Hi, I’m Meredith. Welcome to the Heaven Hill clubhouse.”

  Christine was grateful for a friendly face. She grasped the woman’s hand and shook slowly. “Nice to meet you.”

  It was then that their eyes caught and Christine could see something there. A kinship, maybe, but she wasn’t sure. “Thank you for having me.”

  “I don’t think Steele here would have it any other way.” She threw a wink at the guy who stood with his hand protectively on Christine’s back.

  “Okay, enough of this. If you ladies want to stand around and gawk, at least grab a damn box. Otherwise, I’ll put out a mass text that says the women around here are feeling neglected by their men and need to be taken care of.”

  “Dammit, Travis,” Jessica pouted. “I’m just havin’ a good time.”

  It didn’t escape him that in the time Jess had been around them, she had adopted some of their dialect.

  “Give us just a few hours to get her set up and get some business taken care of. Then I promise you can totally do your best to corrupt her.”

  That seemed to pacify the redhead, and she grinned over at the two of them. “I’m Jessica Shea…I date Layne. If there’s anything you need, please let me know.”

  Travis had shooed them off before she could answer. “Sorry, they mean well, but they can be a little overwhelming—and I don’t want them to send a message to B just yet. I had to block texts on their phones for the morning. Do you know how difficult it’s been for me to play dumb when they come bitchin’ that their phones aren’t working? Those two can spot a bullshitter at fifteen paces. And honestly, who texts that much first thing in the morning?”

  A grin tilted up on the side of her face. “That’s really sweet that you would that for me.”

  “I want you to be comfortable here.”

  She didn’t know how to react to that, nobody had wanted her to be comfortable in such a long time. Nobody had cared for what she thought in such a long time, that it shocked her. “Thank you.”

  “No big deal.” He shrugged. “But let’s go get you settled; otherwise, we might not have any more alone time as soon as everybody else realizes that you’re here.”

  That was exactly what worried her. Would everyone else be able to leave it alone or would they press and pull her in different directions? She knew one thing; she would have to remember to be true to herself here. If not, who Christine Stone really was would get lost again, and she didn’t want that to happen, especially when she was just starting to find her.

  “Is it okay if I put my stuff on the left side of the sink in here?” she asked an hour later. They had spent time putting her clothes up, and now they were moving on to her knickknacks and toiletries.

  “Wherever you want to put it is fine. I don’t really have a set spot.”

  And that had been the truth. It was one of the reasons that Meredith and Jessica were giving him such a hard time. He’d woken them up at 5 AM when he’d gotten the text from her, begging them to help him clean up his room. It had been a mess, considering he spent most of his time in the cave. It had been almost embarrassing. In return for helping him, the two ladies figured they could also be all up in his business.

  “It smells good in here, lemony.”

  Thank you, Pine-Sol. “I like to be clean,” he told her.

  She smiled from where she was. She knew that was probably a hell of a lie. A few minutes ago, she’d opened up what he told her was a storage closet that he never used and that she shouldn’t…an avalanche had almost fallen on her head. It looked like everything that had possibly been on the floor had been shoved into that closet.

  “I see that.”

  For some reason he felt like he hadn’t fooled her. “You know don’t you?”

  “That you probably shoved all your shit into that closet when I texted you this morning?”

  He laughed, a blush working its way up his cheeks. “Am I that transparent?”

  “Not really.” She laughed along with him. “I’ve been known to do the same thing every once in a while.”

  They stood in silence for a moment, neither one sure of what to say. “So,” she asked. “Who will I be meeting and when?”

  “I’m waiting for Liam, the pres, to tell me when he wants to meet with you. His sister is being used as a pawn, just like you.”

  She hated that. “I’m sorry.”

  “This isn’t your fault. It’s the fault of a sick man who found out a secret from another sick man. We need to know what we’re dealing with here, and you are our ticket to that. You’re invaluable right now, I hope you realize that.”

  “I’m not sure how invaluable you’ll see me once I’m done. Who’s to say your pres won’t kill me once he gets the info out of me that he needs.” She shuddered at the thought, but wondered if she didn’t deserve to meet the business end of a gun. Because her life had been so fucked up, she was fucking up other people’s.

  “He won’t. He’s a dad, and once you tell him exactly what happened, he’s going to be pissed, but not at you. He’s going to be pissed for you. He has daddy issues just like you seem to have…the person I’m most worried about is Jagger.”

  Those were her exact thoughts. She didn’t want him to think that he had caused this for her. But neither one of them, when it came down to it, could really deny that. Her brother leaving had amplified their father’s moods, and when Jagger was no longer around to deflect him, he’d turned on her. If she could keep that quiet, she wanted to. There was no reason that Jagger had to be miserable now because she had been then. She hoped they could start over and get to know one another again, but before they did that, she had to figure out a way to tell him everything. She had
worked on forgiving him for a long time. She was closer now than she had ever been, but she hoped that he would be able to forgive himself.

  Travis’ cell went off, and he fished it out of his pocket, grimacing before he put it back in. “It’s Liam and he wants us up to the house.” He rolled his head around on his shoulders, stretching his neck out before he reached into his other pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “You want one?” He offered the pack to her.

  She’d never smoked a day in her life, but it felt like she needed something to calm her nerves, her heart beat like it would come out of her chest. “Sure.”

  “Have you ever smoked a cigarette before?” he asked, a small smile playing on his face.

  “Well, no, but I gotta do something to calm down.”

  He pulled a fresh cigarette out of his pack and put the filtered end up to his mouth. She watched as he lit it, cupping his hand around the flame and the burning tip. He inhaled deeply and then blew the smoke away from her face. Steele licked his lips and held it up to her. “Here ya go.”

  She eyed him, not sure how she felt about taking it from him. It seemed like something a couple would do, and that wasn’t officially what they were, but there was another part of her that loved the fact her lips were about to touch where his just had. It was that desire that won out. Christine grabbed the cigarette from his fingers and stuck it in her mouth, inhaling like she’d seen people in the movies and in real-life do on occasion.

  “Not too deep,” he cautioned as she started coughing loudly. “How is it?” he asked, a grin on his face.

  “Great,” she wheezed. “Absolutely great.”

  Chapter Twelve

  “So this is the infamous Christine Stone?”

  Christine did her best not to be intimidated by the man who stood before her, but authority oozed off of him in waves. He wore it like a badge of honor—it almost reminded her of Clinton.