Motorcycle Master_Bad Boy Angel

by Maggie Carpenter

  “You love this,” he crooned, then unexpectedly landed a second hot swat in the center of her backside.

  “OW. I do, so much.”

  He landed a third and fourth on the same spot, and she lifted her head as she let out her cry.

  “Head back down and keep it there.”

  “Yes, Sir, sorry.”

  “Master!”

  “Yes, Master.”

  His hand continued to smack her exposed skin, moving from cheek to cheek, occasionally moving down to slap her sit spot, but intermittently he paused to explore her pussy.

  “Master, please, Master,” she breathlessly begged, turning her head to the side, “I, uh…”

  “You what?”

  “I’m so hot.”

  “You mean your ass?”

  “Yes, no, I mean, yes, my ass is burning, but I’m so turned on.”

  “I know, you’re drenched.”

  “Please, Master, will you ravage me?”

  “No, you’re going to ravage me. You’re going to sit on me.”

  “Thank you, yes, yes, I would love it.”

  Red-faced and panting, Kat rose up and straddled his body, and as she lowered herself on to him, he ordered to her remove her nightie. She slipped it quickly over her head, and he feasted his eyes on her full melons, then raised his hands and tweaked her nipples as she began to move.

  Kat’s orgasm was already looming. Marco’s spanking and constant teasing had brought her to the edge several times, and now his cock was filling her and his fingers were pinching her nipples and kneading her breasts. She was sure she was about to explode.

  Marco knew she was on the brink. Her chest was flushed red, her eyes were closed, her head was back, and she was uttering divine sounds of pleasure. Moving his hands to her waist, he clasped her, held her still, and began thrusting upwards with powerful strokes.

  “Come for me,” he growled, “come for me now!”

  His cock spasmed as she let out her wail of euphoria, and with each convulsion her yowls met his groans, until her cries became mewls, his member slipped from her channel, and she fell limp on top of him. A few minutes slipped by before she rolled off his body and into the crook of his arm, then snuggling next to him she let out a contented sigh.

  “I think we should take a vacation,” Marco mumbled. “Somewhere neither of us has been.”

  “That’s a marvelous idea. Any ideas?”

  “Do you like sheep?”

  “Sheep?”

  “Yeah, you know, those small white woolly animals that graze on grass.”

  “Marco!”

  “Answer the question.”

  “Sure I like sheep. They’re interesting to talk to, and they make great coffee.”

  “You are such a—”

  “Smart-ass, yeah, I know,” she giggled. “Why are you asking me if I like sheep?”

  “Because where I was thinking of going has thirty million of them.”

  “Really? Where the heck is that?”

  “New Zealand.”

  “That’s a wild idea, but sure, I’d love it.”

  “Great. We’ll talk to Steven and Johnny tonight at dinner. With both of us putting pressure on them for some time off they can’t say no.”

  “There is something else I’d like to do,” she said pensively. “After the bodies have been exhumed up at the rocks, I want to spend more time there, and I want to get the Museum of Natural History involved.”

  “And I want to join you. It’s a place we should be exploring together.”

  “Because it’s special?”

  “Yep, like us.”

  A couple of hours later, Marco and Kat were sitting at the Italian eatery with their respective bosses. After ordering their meals, Steve selected an expensive bottle of red wine, and they toasted their success.

  “I don’t mean to step on the celebration, but you said you had something to talk to us about,” Kat said. “What is it? Good news I hope?”

  “Uh, Marco,” Steven began, “I know you’re glad the operation is over—”

  “Oh, no! I’m hearing a but.”

  “Don’t say no until you’ve heard me out. This involves both of you.”

  “Before you go any further,” Marco said soberly, “there’s something you should know. I want to leave the agency.”

  “Kat, what about you?” Johnny asked before Steve had a chance to respond.

  “Sorry, yes, but tell them why Marco.”

  “I want to open a P.I. office.”

  “Actually, that could work,” Steve murmured. “That could work really well.”

  “I think I know what you mean,” Johnny said thoughtfully.

  “Will one of you please tell us what you’re talking about?” Kat demanded.

  “You two make a great team. We were going to ask you to keep your covers, hang out at the clubs, and see what else you can dig up,” Steve replied.

  “You’re thinking I could be a private investigator and use that as a cover.”

  “It would be a cover for our cover,” Kat exclaimed. “That’s brilliant.”

  “Exactly. Hang up your shingle, and stay who you are. A bad boy biker, but you’ll be working for us. I can’t imagine there are many private detectives wearing leathers and riding around on a Harley.”

  “And you might stumble across some criminal activity that you can report to us,” Johnny added.

  “Let’s do it, Marco,” Kat said enthusiastically. “It would be fun, and we’d have our regular lives outside work. We won’t be chained to a particular club.”

  “I’ll make you a deal,” Marco declared. “First, we want three weeks off to take a vacation.”

  “That’s easy,” Steve agreed. “Johnny? Can you do that for Kat?”

  “Considering she was the one that uncovered HH and figured out where the loot was stashed, sure, what’s second?”

  “The safe house. I want it as our office and pretend home.”

  “But that place is huge,” Johnny protested.

  “True, but only the downstairs and the suite where Kat’s been staying is livable. We’ll need an office and a fake home. That could serve as both.”

  “Wow. That’s clever, Marco,” Kat said happily. “What do you say, Johnny. Do you think you can make that happen?”

  “Is there a third thing?” Johnny asked.

  “Besides fixing it up a bit, yeah. I want first dibs if you guys ever decide to sell it.”

  “It makes a lot of sense,” Steve offered. “Whatta you say, Johnny? Can you make it happen?”

  “Yep, but Kat, promise me you won’t go crazy on the fixing up part.”

  “I promise I’ll try!”

  Later that night, though they were snuggled together and about to go to sleep, Kat was wide-eyed, staring at the ceiling.

  “Kat? Are you okay?” Marco asked, sensing her restlessness.

  “It’s just hard to accept all this amazing stuff that’s happened. I never imagined, when I walked into that tavern, I’d end up here.”

  “I never imagined I’d end up with the hottest woman I’d ever seen.”

  “Me? I’m the hottest woman you’ve ever seen?”

  “Yep, and you get hotter all the time.”

  “My ass does, that’s for sure.”

  “You wouldn’t want it any other way,” he murmured, hugging her tightly.

  “This is true…and I was right.”

  “About what?”

  “You truly are my bad boy angel.”

  EPILOGUE

  When Steve traced the ownership of the tavern and the house in which Kratos had lived, he found it was owned by a company. He was about to investigate further when it was discovered Kratos had left a will. He had a nephew in Bakersfield, and the young man who had been living hand-to-mouth working as a pizza delivery boy, was suddenly the owner of his own home and a biker bar. Kratos had decreed several of his longtime friends take supervisory roles to help the young man learn the business, but Marco was
n’t named. It made him smile. Kratos had known Marco would be leaving, and it allowed Marco to walk away without drama or incident.

  Ernie Williams, aka Jason Dean, aka HH, had broken several bones and suffered internal injuries, but his training as a stuntman early in his acting career had taught him how to land from a fall. When he was well enough to be interrogated, Steve and Johnny were initially surprised by his willingness to talk, but they quickly realized it was his need to brag.

  He spewed non-stop about how easy it had been to manipulate the people in the entertainment industry, and boasted endlessly of the parade of beautiful women who fawned over him. According to him, the authorities had been incredibly stupid, he had been outsmarting them for years, and the only reason he’d been caught was because of the traffic accident involving Kratos.

  Because of his hubris, Ernie Williams described his vast network of pushers, which included two of the biggest names in show business, and Johnny and Steve’s blitz of raids resulted in scores of arrests. The empire Ernie had built was crumbling to the ground.

  As Steve had predicted, about week after their dinner, in the early hours of the morning, surveillance cameras caught a Mercedes SUV arriving at the glass palace. A tall willowy blonde stepped out, headed into the thick landscaping, and removed the bags of cash from the plastic palm trees. She was tracked to a mansion that sat above the Beverly Hills Hotel, owned by a well-known television producer. The home was raided and the cash recovered, along with several kilos of the high-end narcotics. Terrified, the man gave up all his contacts, and Jason Dean’s team of pharmacists were finally uncovered.

  But Kat and Marco were not involved. After a twelve-hour flight, they had landed in Auckland, New Zealand, rented a car, and were driving through the pristine countryside of rolling green hills dotted with sheep and cattle. Having crested a hill, Marco drove the car to a lookout point, and stepping out, they stood arm and arm gazing out at the pastoral beauty.

  “I think I’d like us to retire here,” he murmured. “It’s such a beautiful country, and the people are so warm and friendly.”

  “Us? Retire?” she repeated, “but…that’s got to be thirty years away.”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “You think we’ll still be together in thirty years?” Kat asked, feeling her pulse tick up. What was he saying?

  “Don’t you?”

  “I…uh…hope so.”

  “I love you, Kat, and I can’t imagine my life without you,” he said softly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to keep things right between us.”

  “Marco…”

  “Can I count on you to do the same?”

  “Uh-huh, anything,” she mumbled, fighting the unexpected heat in her throat. “Of course I will.”

  “Then we need to find a souvenir shop.”

  “We do? Why?”

  “I want one of those miniature paddles from the maori canoes.”

  “Don’t you have enough paddles?”

  “Not like this one. It’s made of Kauri, the hardest wood on earth. If I’m going to be with you for a lifetime, I’m going to need something that will last!”

  THE END

  A Word From Maggie

  If you liked this book (or even if you didn’t), I would really appreciate you leaving a review on the site from which it was purchased. Reviews provide useful feedback, and allows me to work even harder to provide you with the very best reading experience I can offer.

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  This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.

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