Guns & Burning Rubber: The Iron Brotherhood series

by Westlake, Samantha

  Hell, with the way the wind was blowing as she roared along, she might as well not be wearing anything, she thought, for once grateful for the darkness of these desert roads, far from civilization or street lights.

  Back at the Iron Brotherhood’s clubhouse, the outfit she eventually picked out had looked great in the mirror on the back of Cross’s door. Between the push-up bra, as tight as she could pull the straps, and the very low-cut top, she was practically spilling out the top of her outfit, putting miles of cleavage on display for anyone who glanced in her direction. And the short little mini skirt that Kara found buried at the back of Cross’s closet did an admirable job of sticking to her, sliding up just enough with each step to suggest that the curve of her ass cheek was only millimeters away from slipping right out. Plus, the tightness of the thin fabric also made it abundantly clear that she had nothing on underneath.

  Of course, the FBI agent wasn’t planning on letting anyone at this party confirm that - but if she was going to sell herself as a slut, well, she wasn’t going to skimp on looking the part.

  But although this outfit made her look like a sex goddess, especially when coupled with a pair of tall black leather boots that clung to the curves of her toned calves, it wasn’t even suited to running or much movement, much less riding a motorcycle. With every single bump in the road, Kara was certain that the few remaining scraps of fabric were about to be ripped away, that she’d be the modern incarnation of the Lady Godiva, shooting down the highway naked on her metal horse.

  The Harley hit another bump in the road, and Kara cursed out loud as she felt her chest rising and falling, trying to climb up out of its low enclosure. She slapped a hand to her stomach, trying to hold everything in place.

  Finally, she spotted the sign for the turn-off she had been watching for, and Kara let a sigh of relief escape her lips. She let off the throttle, pulling in the clutch to let the motorcycle slow down as it slowly used up its momentum gliding off down the side road.

  This road turned out to be a long driveway, leading up to a large house on top of a small hill. The hill continued to rise a bit more behind the house, making the building appear to be snuggled up to the rocky outcrop. It was the tallest structure around for several miles, and the analytical side of Kara’s brain couldn’t help noting that this structure would make a great defensible position.

  But right now, it was obvious that the goal was to welcome people in, not to drive them out. The entire house was brightly lit up, both inside and out, and even from the bottom of the driveway Kara could hear conversations, laughs, and cheers echoing out in all directions. She caught the rumble of a motorcycle revving, accompanied by a distinctly feminine shriek of delight.

  Kara spotted the outlines of several other motorcycles, parked off to one side, and she steered over to put her own chopper among them. Gently squeezing the brakes to bring the machine to a stop, she put down a foot to catch the weight of the machine - and nearly slipped as she forgot for a moment to compensate for the heels on her boots.

  Dammit, she cursed, as she struggled to catch the heavy bike. Come on, Agent Sybil, get your head in the game!

  Even though she hated to admit it, she was rattled. Between Alicia’s comment that she’d already talked to Cross, plus his refusal to respond to her own message, left Kara feeling more and more certain that the bridge between her and Cross was well and truly burned. No matter how much she wanted some part of it to still be intact, it was likely gone, and there’d be no way to get back any sort of connection.

  Focus, Kara! With her bike off and the keys stowed away inside the ridiculously tiny purse that Kara had also found in the back of Cross’s closet (how did a woman end up leaving their purse behind after sleeping with him, she wondered?), Kara headed up the path towards the house - pausing only to grab a clear plastic vodka bottle out of her saddlebag where it had been stowed next to the little purse.

  Walking up the path towards the house, still hidden for the moment in shadow, Kara took a deep breath. She felt even more naked than usual, not because she was dressed so provocatively, but because she’d been forced to leave her weapon back at the Iron Brotherhood house. On this outfit, there was simply no place for her to hide the weapon.

  But as she came around the corner and up to the well-lit porch, Kara plastered a big, silly grin on her face, holding up the vodka bottle above her head like it was the Stanley Cup. “Oh my god, who’s ready to get crazy!?” she trilled, trying to sound as valley girl as possible.

  At the call, several other men glanced up, giving a cheer in response as they saw an already half-stumbling girl appearing, scantily clad and holding more liquor aloft. “Let’s get this party started!” Kara called out, eliciting another cheer.

  A couple men came over to her, one of them handing her a red cup filled with something that smelled like fruit punch. Kara took a big gulp - and almost spat it out. There was fruit punch, sure, but that cup had to be nearly fifty percent pure alcohol!

  She kept it down, however, and gave the man who handed it to her a big grin and a clumsy wave of the red cup. “Thank you - such a gentleman!” she announced, getting another chuckle. Faced with a sloppy drunk girl putting her wares on display, these men would do anything to keep her attention.

  Of course, Kara saw as she looked around, she was definitely not the only one. The porch was full of big men, dressed in leather and sporting lots of hair, tattoos, and silver chains and rings, most of them flirting with or fondling girls who looked about half their age. Several other girls were sitting on laps, and Kara saw one big, overweight man with both his hands shoved under the shirt of the girl perched on his lap, grinning as happily as a fox in a henhouse. Another man was in a rocking chair, his head tossed back, either passed out from drinking or simply lost in sensation from the girl grinding down on his lap, putting most pole dancers to shame.

  Alicia had at least come through on her promise to make sure that a party was in full swing. This didn’t raise Kara’s opinion of her, but at least the woman hadn’t fully cheated her out of everything.

  Speaking of Alicia… Kara glanced around, trying to scan for the tall, dark-haired smug face, but she didn’t see her anywhere. Maybe she was inside, or off working her own angle. Kara didn’t doubt for a minute that Alicia had her own devious goals, not disclosed to these muscled bikers.

  But Kara had an agenda of her own, as well. “So, who here is a Hellraiser?” she asked, raising her voice to project out across the porch. “I hear that they’re the real party guys, and I want to get my hands on one!”

  A couple of the men cheered at this declaration, but most of them already had a girl or two hanging off of their arm. Kara needed someone willing to give her his full attention - at least, before she got him good and drunk. She pretended to ignore those cheers, turning around and holding up a hand to her forehead in mock searching.

  “I’m a Hellraiser.”

  These words came accompanied with a big hand sliding around her waist from behind her and pulling her bodily around. Spun about, Kara found herself staring up into a big, imposing man, who looked down at her without any expression on his face.

  To cover her surprise, Kara tittered, waving the vodka handle still in her hand. “Ooh, you’re a big one, aren’t you?” she exclaimed, leaning forward to press herself up against this man with his arm around her. “What’s your name?”

  “Savage.” The man stared down at her, his expression still unreadable. Was he made of stone? Kara glanced down at where her breasts were on full display - were these things on?

  But that name, Savage - hadn’t she heard it before? Kara thought back, and then jerked when the realization hit her.

  She had heard the name before! Cross had been the first to say it - he had used it as part of her cover story, when she was first introduced to the Iron Brotherhood! He told the other members of the Brotherhood that Kara had once dated Savage, but that he’d cheated on her, and she was out for revenge.

  Now, sta
ring up at the man, Kara wasn’t sure that her story seemed quite as believable. The man looke as hard as stone, an impression supported by the stony look on his face. That wasn’t the sort of face that made a woman angry that he’d been unfaithful to her.

  Instead, Kara found herself thinking that this was the sort of face that stared back impassively from the defendent’s bench in a trial for a string of different murders, crossing multiple state lines and spanning years.

  All of this flashed through the FBI agent’s mind in a fraction of a second, and she pushed it all aside almost as quickly. Despite his intimidating appearance, Savage was the sort of man Kara needed. Cross had mentioned him as the president of the Hellraisers, and that meant that he would know the secrets she was after.

  “Ooh, I bet you’re a hell of a savage, too,” she purred, running her free hand up the man’s chest. “Why don’t you and I go inside and find someplace to have a couple drinks, get to know each other a little better?”

  And to emphasize her message, Kara pressed her hips up against the man. His face might be made of stone, but she could feel something else that was big and hard, further down his body! And she knew what would win out in the battle between his brain and his dick.

  Slowly, Kara saw the man’s lips rise up into something not unlike a grin. Yet, behind that smile, something lurked in the man’s eyes, something dark and foreboding. This was a man who had dark fantasies filling his brain, and Kara suspected that, with a name like Savage, those fantasies had their ways of escaping out into the real world.

  “Yeah, we should get to know each other better,” he agreed, reaching out and taking the vodka handle from Kara’s hand.

  As soon as he had grabbed the alcohol from her, his other hand, the one that had been slid around Kara’s waist, tightened, lifting her up. She let out a startled shriek that she didn’t need to fake as she was hoisted up into the air, landing across Savage’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She felt that hand slide up as it lifted her, pushing her skirt up towards her waist and grabbing a big handful of her exposed ass.

  Kara managed to give her scream a slight lift in tone, making it sound as if it was full of delight, but inside, she felt her stomach clench. More than ever, she wished that she still had her weapon with her, that she’d found some way to bring it with her.

  This is going to work, she kept on telling herself. Just stay calm. Savage might be imposing, but once he’s had a few drinks, he’ll go down and be willing to tell me everything I want to hear in order to get me naked.

  All I need is to convince him to give me a tour around, convince him that I get off to seeing guns, and I’ll have my evidence.

  I can do this.

  But as the big Hellraiser carried her into the clubhouse, Kara found herself wishing desperately for Cross, Gimli, even Alicia to appear.

  Anyone to make her feel that she wasn’t going into this totally alone.

  CHAPTER 8

  Inside the house, Savage stepped past several other groups of party-goers, heading for the stairs leading up to the second level. At least, that was what Kara guessed - with her position slung over his shoulder, she could really only see what was behind the man.

  “Where are we going?” she managed to get out, even though the jarring motion of the man’s walking made it tough for her to fill her lungs, much less talk.

  “Upstairs.” The man’s reply was short, and still betrayed no emotion.

  Kara tried to consider her options. On one hand, going upstairs would let her get more one on one time with the man, giving her more opportunities to question him about the Hellraisers’ activities.

  But on the other hand, Savage definitely had other plans in mind for what they would be doing together in one of the upstairs rooms. Plans that didn’t jibe with Kara’s own.

  What were Kara’s other options? She could probably slip the man’s grip, flip off his back, spin around, and try to hit him with a kick. But what would that get her? She’d be thrown out of the party, and with no more answers than when she’d arrived.

  So she decided to wait a bit longer, even though each step up the stairs sent a bone-jarring shake through her body. She gritted her teeth, pretending that she was too drunk to notice.

  Upstairs, Savage found a bed and slung her down, still standing over her. He looked down at her, and Kara had the distinct impression that, in the man’s eyes, she wasn’t much better than a piece of meat, something to be used and consumed.

  “So, is this your room?” Kara asked, trying to strike up some sort of conversation. She glanced around at the relatively bare walls and lack of decorations, and decided not to try making any sort of comment about the man’s fashion skills.

  But Savage was shaking his head. “Every room in this place is mine,” he told her.

  Kara raised her eyebrows, trying to look impressed and awed. “Ooh! You must be totally one of the officers of the Hellraisers, right?”

  For a moment, she thought she saw the man’s lips briefly quirk up. That expression, however, was gone an instant later. “President,” Savage said.

  “Oh wow,” Kara breathed. She crawled up to her feet, and put her arms around the man, nuzzling up against his neck. “I bet you’ve got all sorts of skills, to get such a powerful position.”

  This seemed to be working! As she kissed at the man’s neck, running her arms over his chest, Savage didn’t pull away. Considering his lack of emotional displays so far, Kara felt that this was an encouraging sign. “Trust me,” the man whispered back to her, as she nibbled at his ear, “I’m going to make sure you see some of my powerful skills.”

  Knowing that he couldn’t see her face, Kara rolled her eyes. What a ridiculous line!

  As he told her this, Savage’s hands were also moving, running over Kara’s body. He grabbed her mini skirt and hauled it up, exposing her ass, giving it a squeeze in both of his hands. His other hand gave her tits a squeeze through her tight, low-cut top, and then dipped down to his jeans, reaching for the button that held them up.

  Whoa, too fast! Kara wasn’t ready to go for this, not yet. Her intention was to get the information before sex, and then incapacitate the man before he could fuck her. There were many things she was willing to do for her case, but having sex with a man who may very well be a killer, as well as a gun runner, was not one of them!

  Right now, however, she had to slow him down. Kara reached down and grabbed his hand from his waist, bringing it back up to join its fellow on her ass as she leaned in against him. She wasn’t a fan of him even getting to cop a feel, but it was better than his dick coming out, at least.

  “You know what I like?” she asked him, wrapping her arms around his neck and briefly giving him a kiss between sentences. “There’s one thing that I totally like, that does it for me and gets me off every time.”

  “What’s that?” The man tasted like alcohol, but he didn’t appear drunk. But maybe that step wouldn’t be necessary.

  “Guns,” Kara told him, keeping her voice breathy. “God, I love seeing a man with a big, powerful… gun. It just shows me that he’s dangerous, and strong, and sexy! When I know that a guy has a gun, it makes me want to do all sorts of crazy things to him.”

  That had to be enough. Forget leaving it to the imagination; between pressing her body up against him, kissing him, and the sultry tone of voice, Kara was practically hitting him over the head with a hammer of suggestion.

  Now, she just had to hope that he actually had an illegal gun to show her.

  For a moment, Kara thought that the man wasn’t going to care about this, was still going to insist on them having sex right now. But she held her breath, and after a long silence, the man finally caved.

  “Guns, huh?” Savage repeated, looking at her appraisingly. “I do have a few of those - although not here, of course.”

  “Can you show me? God, I’d just love to see them,” Kara breathed, running one hand down the man’s chest. She kept running her fingers down, until they were danci
ng at his waist, plucking at the top of his jeans.

  For a long minute, Savage just stared at her. The man had a hell of a lot of control, that was certain - with just about any other guy, he’d be a slavering mess by this point, doing anything he could to please her, Kara was sure!

  At that thought, Cross, of all people, suddenly flashed in her head. Could she have manipulated him this easily by flirting with him?

  Somehow, Kara doubted that Cross would have fallen for her charms. Sure, he might be totally into her, but he also seemed to stay aware of what he was saying and doing, even when he had to be totally consumed by desire and arousal! That was, Kara had discovered, a surprisingly rare trait in a man, and not at all unappealing.

  Mentally, Kara shook herself. Why in the world was she even thinking of Cross, a total distraction, at a sensitive time like this? Hastily, she dragged herself back to focusing on the present.

  Savage was speaking, and Kara forced herself to tune back in. “The guns are downstairs,” he was saying. “I could show you - as long as you’re not scared of going down into the dark with me.” His hand wrapped around her, drifting down to grab her ass, sliding under the mini skirt.

  For an instant, Kara felt an overwhelming urge to pull back, to slap that hand away. But instead, she put on a huge smile, sticking her tongue briefly between her teeth. “With you, I don’t think I’ll be scared,” she replied. “And if you’ve got guns down there, well, I might just be so turned on that I have to have you right then and there, no matter how dark it is!”

  “But,” she continued, as Savage started to turn towards the door, “I think I can walk down myself, instead of having to be carried.”

  Savage just shrugged, but he stepped back. Clearly, he wasn’t going to let her out of his sight, if he couldn’t keep his hands on her.

  Pulling her skirt back down to try and cover at least part of her ass as it hung out, Kara headed for the door and back down the stairs. On the way up, she had glimpsed the stairs leading down to the basement, tucked away just off the kitchen, and she made her way there.