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Motorcycle Master_Bad Boy Angel

Page 18

by Maggie Carpenter


  Marco paused, then slowly turning around he returned her hug. He could feel her dissolving, sinking into him, being his. She was still for a long moment, then lifting her head she gazed up at him.

  “Will you punish me, please, Sir?”

  Her soft plea sent Marco’s cock surging into life, and as she stepped back and demurely offered him the bath brush, he thought he might spontaneously combust.

  “No defense?” he asked, taking it from her.

  “None, and I need you to punish me.”

  “Put your arms around me, and lock your fingers behind my back.”

  His voice was husky, and as she pressed her body into his, he leaned his head over her shoulder, touched the solid wooden head of the brush against her right cheek, and softly tapped.

  Kat waited, holding her breath, preparing for the swat, and when it came it landed with very little sound but a mighty sting. Her cry of pain echoed through the bathroom, and as the second landed on her opposite cheek, she yelped and stamped her foot. He swatted again, delivering the blow directly to the center of her bottom, then dispatched a couple of quick smacks just below the first two. Yelping, she squirmed against him, and though her backside was on fire with an intense prickling heat, her breasts wanted his mouth and her pussy was craving his cock.

  “Manipulating your Master isn’t a good idea.”

  Master.

  The muttered word, low and warm in her ear, sent a fresh thrill through her being. She squirmed, grinding her pelvis against him, but another slap from the hard paddle elicited a loud squeal, then more yowls of pain as he continued to exact his discipline.

  “It won’t happen again, will it, my sweet Kat?” he purred, sliding the smooth wood over her scorched skin.

  “No, Sir,” she panted, “no, Sir, it won’t, it won’t, I promise.”

  “I’m keeping your nickname. You’re my fiery feline, but not a kitten. You’re my grown up pussy cat, and sometimes my pussy cat needs to be tamed.”

  He resumed the paddling, sending the swats in a flurry across her backside, then throwing down the brush he grabbed her cheeks with his large hands in a comforting hold.

  “Has my Kat learned her lesson?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Master, call me Master.”

  “Yes, Master,” she breathed, sinking into the word, loving how it sounded as it left her lips. “I’ve never called anyone that before.”

  “Does it feel right?

  “Very right, so right it almost makes me want to cry.”

  Gently leaning her against the wall, he released her bottom and grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head, then dropping his lips on to hers, he kissed her with the deep longing that was pulsing through his being. Their tongues touched, then danced, their lips suckled, then released, and as he moved his kiss to her neck, she let out a long, soulful moan.

  “Please will you fuck me, Master? Please, I need you so badly.”

  Hastily releasing her and turning off the faucets, he placed his arm around her waist, guided her from the shower, and grabbing a towel he wiped away the droplets of water as he bustled her into the bedroom, pausing to kiss her again before picking her up and throwing her on the bed. Climbing on top of her, he raised her knees, placed his cock at her entrance and thrust home—then abruptly stopped.

  Caught up in the moment he’d forgotten the condom.

  “What?” Kat panted, staring up at him.

  “The condom.”

  “I’m safe, I swear, I wouldn’t lie to you, not about something so important, and you’re such a fanatic about them you have to be safe too.”

  Lowering himself on top of her body, he rested himself on his elbows and softly kissed her.

  “I’ve never done that, started without one,” he murmured. “Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

  “I do, and it’s amazing, and I feel the same.”

  “Kat…” he murmured, his voice trailing off as his eyes locked hers.

  “What is it, what’s wrong?”

  “I’m not easy. I’ll be demanding sometimes, and it’s been a couple of years since I’ve been in a relationship. I want it, I want it with you, but I’ll be over-protective. It’s just how I’m wired. Can you handle that?”

  “Marco, I love that about you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Okay, so it might annoy me from time to time, but I do love it, in my soul I love it. It’s what I want, it’s what I’ve always wanted.”

  Again she could feel the threat of tears, and as he gently lowered his lips on to hers, and his cock began to stroke, she brought her arms around his neck and clung to him, wishing the moment would never end.

  He pumped gently, then vigorously, paused to consume her breasts, then flipped her over and fucked her with rapid force, taking her to the brink before withdrawing and ordering her to roll back over and lay flat.

  “Please, Master, my whole body is tingling.”

  She was red-faced and breathless, her plea had been whimpered, and as his cock returned to her hot wet naked pussy, and he gazed down at her full luscious breasts and crinkled nipples, he knew it was time. Clutching her hips he held her with a firm grip, and with a series of aggressive thrusts he commanded her to come. Her back arched, her hands gripped the bedspread, and letting out a wail she erupted beneath him. His hands tightened around her as his cock exploded, and as the wash of sparkles raced through his veins, he heard himself let out a deep guttural groan.

  They caught their breath with their limbs entwined, and sleep for her fell quickly. It had been a long, arduous, dramatic day, but in spite of his fatigue, Marco’s mind was on what lay in front of them, not what had just passed. The raid on the mansion had to be successful, and it was imperative that Steve find the man calling himself HH. Marco was convinced, if HH slipped through the net, both he and his precious Kat would be in grave danger.

  In the gated community not far from them, in his very private salon that had a view of what appeared to be a tropical jungle, HH was staring down at his long lost package. He gazed at it, almost lovingly. To finally have it back in his hands was extremely satisfying, but its return was tainted. Laying next to it was the letter.

  He had read it several times, seeking any flaw in its contents. It had been written by a methodical and careful person, and it could have been a man or a woman. Had it been handwritten, an expert may have been able to determine the sex of the author. Did it matter? It did. The information would eliminate many of the potential suspects, not that he yet had any, but he knew he would.

  Apparently Kratos had a life outside the gang, one kept extremely private. In addition to the nanny cam behind the photographs, HH had kept him under sporadic surveillance and had not uncovered any such life, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist, clearly it did, and the bottom line was a simple one; HH could not allow the person behind the letter to remain at large, and once uncovered, he or she would have to be eliminated.

  The two detectives he had on retainer had already been dispatched to the home in which Kratos and Nancy once lived, but HH had another source of information. Travis Davis. Tank had been with Kratos for many years, and HH had arranged for Anton, an old-school Italian from New York, to visit Tank’s bedside. Anton had unique skills, and if Tank knew anything about the life Kratos led outside the club, Anton would be able to extract the information.

  But there was another matter HH had to consider. Marco and his girlfriend.

  Kat was hot, and HH was looking forward to the time he was about to spend with her. She and Marco would have to be terminated of course, and it would have to appear to be an accident, but Kat would provide some entertainment first. HH smiled an evil smile. The party would be the perfect occasion to have her in his playroom. Clearly the girl enjoyed a good spanking, but how would she feel about being cruelly whipped? Marco would be watching of course, a sight HH would enjoy almost as much as the voluptuous woman writhing under his merciless attention. It would be a p
arty to remember, and his cock stirred at the thought.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  It was mid-morning when Marco and Kat rode into the hospital parking lot. To make their visit appear legitimate, and to preserve their cover with Tank, she was going to distract the guard at Tank’s door while Marco slipped into his room. The phrase in the letter from Kratos, Tank knows where the bodies are buried, was one both Steve and Johnny thought was meant literally, though Marco wasn’t convinced. In his two years embedded in the club he’d never heard a whiff of gossip about the Kings being involved in murder, and he was the gang’s muscle. Could Tank have been connected to such things outside the club? His fingerprints were on the gun, along with the kid from the past. It wasn’t inconceivable, but Marco was sure he would have heard something about it, even if only a vague rumor.

  Rolling to a stop they pulled off their helmets, carrying them as they walked through the glass doors of the hospital entrance. Steve had given Marco the information he needed to find Tank’s room, and taking the elevator to the third floor, he and Kat stepped out into the wide gleaming corridor. It was quiet, and moving swiftly down the hallway they turned left at the end. Tank’s room was about halfway down, and Marco could see the guard sitting in the chair, but it was only a second later he realized something was wrong. The man was motionless, his arms hanging loose at his side.

  “Shit!”

  Kat at seen the guard’s limp body at the same time, and it was Kat’s voice that had broken the silence. As they burst into a sprint, Marco pulled his phone from his pocket and called Steve.

  “The guard, he’s down. Send backup.”

  Reaching the chair Marco bent over to see if the guard was dead or simply passed out, and glancing through the narrow window in the door, Kat saw a tall, older man leaning over Tank with a knife against Tank’s neck. Before Marco could stop her, she pushed through the door, then suddenly realized she didn’t have her gun. What the hell could she do with no weapon?

  Startled, the man looked up and stared at her. She could see panic in his eyes, and as he dropped his gaze back to Tank’s neck, though she heard the door open behind her, she knew she couldn’t wait.

  Launching herself in the air she flew over Tank’s body, and with all the force she could muster she swing her helmet, crashing it down on the intruder’s head. Letting out a blood-curdling scream, the brawny man toppled to the floor, the knife falling from his hand and scattering across the linoleum.

  Marco sprang into action, racing around the bed and jumping on top of him, taking only seconds to grab the attacker’s wrists and pull them around his back, but he had no handcuffs. Kat, still on top of Tank’s bed, jumped off and moved swiftly to the sleeping guard outside the door. Finding a pair inside the man’s jacket pocket, she hurried them back to Marco, and as he locked them in place around the assailant’s wrists, they could hear the sound of heavy feet running down the hallway. A moment later a hospital security guard, closely followed by two of Steve’s men wearing their DEA jackets, burst into the room.

  “Thanks for your help, buddy, we can take it from here,” one of the agents said to Marco as he helped the assassin to his feet. “Who is this guy? Do you know?”

  “He was holding a knife to Tank’s throat, and I don’t know who he is. Sorry, you probably know the patient as Travis Davis.”

  “I’m not saying shit without my lawyer,” the man babbled as blood gushed from the side of his head. “You hear me, my lawyer.”

  “And you are?” the second agent asked Marco as the attacker was bustled from the room.

  “Let’s step outside,” Marco replied.

  The agent didn’t know he was one of them, but there was no reason he should. Marco had been undercover for two years, and in front of Tank he needed to keep it that way. As Marco managed to herd the agent and the security guard from the room, Kat slipped to Tank’s side and began reassuring him. His face was white, and as she took his hand she could feel it trembling.

  “It’s okay, big guy, you’re safe, it’s okay.”

  “Damn, how did you do that? You saved my life. Who are you? I know you, don’t I?”

  “My name’s Kat. I was at the club the night Marco announced everyone had to leave for the rocks.”

  Tank was staring at her, his eyes wide, then he slowly nodded his head.

  “Right, now I remember.”

  “Who was that guy?” she asked urgently, worried nurses or a doctor would arrive and prevent her from questioning him. “Why did he want to kill you?”

  “His name’s Anton. I don’t know his last name.”

  “What’s his beef with you, Tank?”

  “I can’t tell you,” he muttered, his voice filled with fear. “If I do, I’m a dead man.”

  “Seems like you were about to be a dead man anyway.”

  “He’ll send someone else,” Tank quaked. “No-one can stop him. No-one can protect me. He failed this time, but he won’t fail again.”

  “Who? Anton?”

  “No, his boss, HH. He’s a psycho, and if he wants me dead, I’m as good as.”

  “Maybe I can help.”

  “How? How could you possibly help?”

  “I have friends in the FBI. Do you have any information they could use? Maybe I can get you into witness protection. If you’re sure this HH person wants to kill you, it’s probably the only chance you have. Is there anything you can offer them?”

  “Witness protection? That’s pretty drastic.”

  “Okay, well, never mind then. I’m going to see what’s happening with Marco, but don’t worry, the doctors will probably be here in a minute.”

  She was surprised none of the hospital staff had yet turned up, but it was possible Marco was keeping them at bay while she tried to get Tank talking. Confident Tank would crack, she moved around the bed and started for the door.

  “Wait!”

  She paused, then slowly turned around.

  “Yeah, Tank? You need something?”

  “Your friends…”

  “What about my friends?” she asked calmly, walking back to him, praying she’d guessed right and Marco was preventing anyone from coming in. Tank was about to spill the beans.

  “I have information, big time information. You really think I could get into that program?”

  “It will depend on what it is you have to tell them.”

  “I know where bodies are buried,” he whispered, “I know where the gun is that shot them, and I know who killed them, well, some of them anyway.”

  “Wow, Tank, really?”

  “Yeah, I know a lot.

  “Then I’m sure they’ll help you,” she said with a warm smile, and seeing the look of relief cross his face, she took his hand and gave it a squeeze. “Why don’t you tell me some of it now, so I can give them something when I call. Then they’ll know it’s worth their time to come down here.”

  “I’ve already spoken to one of them. A guy called Fallon, Johnny Fallon. He left his card.”

  “I know Johnny. He’s tough, but he’s a man of his word.”

  “How do you know him?”

  “Long story,” she said with a wink. “So tell me, Tank, where are these bodies you know about?”

  “At the rocks. Did you go there?”

  Of all the places he could have mentioned, the ground Kat saw as sacred was the last place she’d expected.

  “The rocks,” she softly repeated. “There are bodies buried at the rocks?”

  “Sure are. I know of three, but there are more. It’s where HH puts them. The psycho I told you about. He has parties at his house. Bad things happen there. Really bad things.”

  “I’ll call Johnny right now,” she said, pulling out her phone and touching the screen. “I’m sure he’ll come here immediately, especially after I tell him what just happened. Hi, is this Johnny Fallon? Hi, Johnny, this is Kat Baldwin. I’m with a friend of mine at the hospital, someone I believe you’ve met,” she said, acting out the scene for Tank’s
benefit. “I think you two might be able to help each other.”

  As she told Johnny about the attempted assassination, then added what Tank had given her about the bodies at the rocks, Marco, walked back into the room. Kat’s suspicions that he’d been keeping people at bay had been correct.

  “Hey, Tank, how are you feeling?”

  “Hey, Brooder, I’m alive, so pretty fuckin’ good right now, and it’s great to see you. Sure glad you two showed up when you did.”

  “What’s this Kat just said about dead bodies?”

  “She’s got friends in the FBI. Shit, you can’t tell anyone, not anyone. HH has eyes and ears everywhere, but it’s my only shot.”

  “Who was that guy, Tank? What did he want? What’s going on?”

  “HH sent him. He asked me about Kratos and his life outside the club, but I don’t know anything about that, and that’s when he pulled out his knife. He even said he was sorry he had to kill me, like that was supposed to make it okay.”

  Tank’s voice was starting to crack. He’d faced death, and the reality of what had just happened was hitting him.

  “Okay, big guy,” Kat declared, moving back to his bedside. “Agent Fallon will be here shortly, and if you want my advice, tell him everything you know. Don’t leave anything out.”

  “Thanks. Seems so stupid to say that after what you did for me. I mean, it’s not enough. It’s just a word, and I owe you my life. Hey, are you two an item? Is that why you’re here together?”

  “Yeah, I guess you could say that,” Marco replied, “but Tank, listen, you don’t have to worry. There are two guards outside your door now. They said that Anton guy drugged the other guard’s coffee and it knocked him out. Funny thing, I was going to have Kat lure that guard away so I could see you. Maybe I should’ve thought of slipping him a sleeping pill instead.”

  “Kratos said you were different,” Tank said solemnly. “I can see now he was right. I just thought you were moody.”

  “Moody? I guess I am, and I’m not sure I’m cut out to run the club. I think I’ll be turning the reins over to Leo. By the way, we had the memorial yesterday. It was taped. I’ll get you a copy.”

 

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