Impulsively (Dante's Nine MC)

by Colleen Masters

  “You don’t think I could handle you, Brooks?” I gasp, closing my eyes as he kisses the dip beside my hipbone.

  “We’ll find out, won’t we? But if you can’t now,” he says, glancing up at me with those devilish eyes, “we’ll just have to keep practicing until you can.”

  His deft hands slip up my arched back, snapping open the clasp of my bra. My breasts fall free as the garment slips away, and I let out a long breath as Brooks cups them in his hands. As he leans forward, I can feel the rigid length of him pressing hard against my thigh. Any cares about propriety fly out the window as I feel how hard he is for me.

  “That feels so good...” I moan, as he rolls my hard nipples between his fingers.

  “Just wait,” he grins, pulling me back up to sitting, “we’re just getting started.”

  But just as I brace myself for the full force of his gorgeous body, he steps away. I blink at him, bemused, as he turns away from me.

  “Brooks,” I exclaim, snatching up my fallen bra and sliding it back into place, “Where are you going?”

  “Hopping in the shower,” he says over his shoulder, “care to join me, Red?”

  My body is full to the bursting with wanting him. The second he steps away, I can see how insane I’m acting. Sprawled across the desk, waiting to be worked over by my very own biker boy...and not giving a damn how reckless I’m being. Mitchell said this whole thing is likely to be over in two weeks time, after all. That means there’s not a moment to spare if I’m going to get my fill of Brooks.

  “You trying to drive me crazy?” I ask, stepping down from the desk.

  “Maybe,” he shrugs. “Is it working?”

  “I think you know that it is,” I shoot back.

  “Come on then,” he says, “I’m not playing hard to get. I just thought I’d do you a solid and wash off the day’s work before I had you.”

  He winks at me and disappears into the bedroom. I stare slack jawed after him as I listen to the shower turn on. As brave as I may be, I still have to admit to myself that Brooks is more man than I’ve ever taken on. What if he is too much for me? There’s only one way to find out, I suppose. Tentatively, I make my way across the suite, ever closer to the sound of running water. Kassie and Kelly won’t be back for hours. This is our moment.

  I sidle into Brooks’ bedroom and spot steam spilling out of the cracked bathroom door. Padding across the room, I will my heart to calm down. It’s beating madly with nervousness and desire, as unreliable a compass as ever. Pausing outside the bathroom door, I take a moment to check in with my body, my gut, the only true guide I have. It turns out my body isn’t confused at all. It knows exactly what it wants, and it wants Caleb Brooks.

  A warm wash of steam rolls over me as I step into the spa-like bathroom. The space is enormous and high ceilinged. A marble bath the size of a small swimming pool is built into the elegant room, but that’s not where my eyes are drawn to now. Instead, I stare at the articles of discarded clothing, leading me like breadcrumbs to the standing shower. There, encased in glass like the work of art he resembles, is Brooks. All of Brooks.

  His muscular back is turned to me as he runs his hands through those dark curls of his hair. His broad shoulders ripple with power, his tapered waist giving way to the finest, firmest ass I’ve ever seen. Even his calves stand out in hard relief, carved and sculpted from hours of physical labor. I close the door with a snap behind me, and the sound catches Brooks’ attention. I hold my breath as he swings that gorgeous body around.

  I’m frozen where I stand as I take in the sight of him. His firm, inked pecs, the perfectly cut abs that trail down his torso, the crooked smile fixed on his perfect lips...and the rock hard, staggering length between his legs. I stare unabashedly at his full, rigid manhood, standing at attention after our encounter just moments ago. I’ve never seen such an enormous, such a downright gorgeous member in my entire life. I didn’t even think it was possible to find a cock beautiful. And yet...

  “There you are,” he says from behind the glass. Rivulets of water cascade down his perfect body as I look on in wonder.

  “Here I am,” I say softly.

  “Get in here, Red,” Brooks urges, “the water’s great.”

  I swallow hard, forcing my feet to move forward. I’ve never done anything like this before. I’ve never even slept with a guy on a first date. But I’ve also never really gone after a man I wanted. There’s a first time for anything, I guess.

  My eyes are fixed on Brooks’ body as I approach. “You’re fucking perfect...” I breathe.

  “If you think so, that makes two of us,” he laughs.

  “Yeah right,” I smile nervously, “I’m anything but perfect, Brooks.”

  He fixes me with an intent stare through the fogged up glass. “If that’s what you think, you’re crazy,” he says.

  I shrug, embarrassed by his praise and unsure of how to proceed. My mind is fogging like the pane of glass that separates us. I can’t think straight when Brooks is right in front of me without a stitch on his body.

  “Strip for me, Red,” he urges.

  “Strip?!” I exclaim. “You want me to—?”

  “What else are you gonna do, come in here fully clothed?” he laughs. “That’ll make what I have planned for us pretty difficult.”

  I bit my lip, catching the hem of my tank with trembling fingers. I should feel silly, or self-conscious, I suppose. I’ve never stripped for a man before, not like this. But Brooks isn’t any man. And under the guise of Keira Campbell, maybe I have the courage to do what he asks...

  “All right,” I breathe, drawing my tank top over my head, here goes—”

  “Brooks?” a low voice calls from the main suite. “Dude, are you here?”

  “Holy shit!” I squeak, letting my shirt fall back into place. “Is that Declan?!”

  “I think so,” Brooks shrugs, eyes fixed on my body, “so what?”

  “So what?” I exclaim, looking frantically between Brooks and the bathroom door.

  “You’re still new to this life, Keira,” Brooks smiles, “but you’ll find in time that we’re not too shy around here.”

  I whip around as the bathroom door opens, and Declan Tiberi strolls on in. He takes in the sight of Brooks in the shower, and me just about to hop in. But just as Brooks predicted, he doesn’t even bat an eye.

  “Oh,” he says, unsurprised, “hey Keira.”

  “H-hey Declan,” I manage to say, “I’ll just, uh, wait for you guys outside.”

  “You cock-blocking sonofabitch,” Brooks mutters to Declan and I hurry past.

  “You’ll survive,” I hear Declan say before I close the door. “I need you at the clubhouse this afternoon. We’ve got chapel.”

  I lean heavily against the doorframe, chest heaving. All that tension, all that desire, derailed so that Declan could tell Brooks about a meeting?

  We were this close. I guess the best things in life come to those who wait. But who would have thought that waiting a whole day to be with someone would feel like far too long? My body’s decided what it wants, even if my heart and mind are confused. If anything, Declan’s interruption just proved how urgent that wanting really is.

  “Thanks, Tiberi. I guess,” I mutter to myself.

  Forget the fact that we just met, and the fact that I’m masquerading as someone else. The greatest obstacle to me and Brooks right now might just be finding a moment alone.

  Chapter Eleven

  Against all odds, I start to adjust to my new way of life as the days go by. I wake up, ignore whatever plaintive texts or emails Milo has sent during the night, pour some kibble into The Mayor’s bowl, and head out the door. I’ve given up trying to dress differently for my two selves’ very different jobs. Whether I’m heading to the FBI field office or the CrowdedNest home base, I opt for jeans, a fitted tank or tee, and blown out hair. And if I happen to be swinging by the Forty-Five club after work, a smudge of red lipstick, some heels, and a neckline tugged low quickly
complete my look.

  I log a few good hours of investigation into CrowdedNest each and every day, but the result is always the same. No matter how deep I dig, I can’t find a speck of dirt. Kassie and Kelly have set up an organized, efficient, and utterly wholesome site. If websites could be considered for sainthood, this one would be a shoo-in. There are no traces of malware, no evidence that the girls are skimming off the top of donations to their elderly clients. By all appearances, this operation is exactly what it looks like to the untrained eye: an excellent idea for a startup that benefits people all over the country.

  And that’s why this whole thing doesn’t make any damn sense.

  Mitchell is as puzzled by the lack of incriminating evidence as I am. Based on the anonymous tips the FBI received about CrowdedNest, he expected there to be all kinds of fishy (and phish-y) things going on with the site.

  “At least we have hard evidence that the site is sharing funds with the MC’s, right?” my boss says as we wrap up another meeting, about a week into my investigation. He, Bruno and I have spent the last hour or so laying all our evidence out on the table to underwhelming effect.

  “Well, that’s not exactly true,” I point out, hopping onto the conference table beside him. “It’s more a matter of who’s investing in what. Tiberi invested in CrowdedNest, Kassie invested in the Dante’s Nine auto shop, Kelly and Leo each invested in the Devil’s Playpen porn company...the clubs are too smart to have war chests, so to speak.”

  “Then we’ll just have to nail them on something else,” Bruno cuts in, his brow furrowed. “Clearly, you’re not going to be of any use on the digital front. I’m going to have to get one of the Devil’s Playpen girls to talk.”

  “And what if the girls don’t have anything to say?” I ask. “What if the strip club and porn company are as well-run as the website?”

  “You clearly don’t know much about strip clubs or porn sites,” Bruno grins at me.

  “I know that you haven’t found any evidence of illegal activity,” I shoot back, “and you’ve been working your angle a whole lot longer than I’ve been working mine. Maybe it’s time for us to consider the possibility that there’s nothing to see here.”

  “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Bruno sneers. “If these assholes aren’t technically doing anything wrong, you get to keep up your biker chick charade. None of them have to find out you’re an agent. You can keep knocking around with your slutty girlfriends and that thug you’ve taken a liking to.”

  “Excuse me?” I snap, damning the blush that creeps into my cheeks.

  “Don’t play dumb,” Bruno says, rolling his eyes. “You’ve clearly got a little schoolgirl crush on that Brooks character.”

  “What makes you say that?” I ask, deflecting his accusation.

  “Let’s see,” Bruno goes on, “you stumbled upon the identity of a brand new member of Dante’s Nine, but all you’ve told us about him is a name and the color of his eyes. You’re totally disinterested in investigating his criminal past. And you spend as much time at the CrowdedNest offices as possible—which, as you’ve told us, is also Brooks’ bachelor pad for the time being. I’m a federal agent, Girlie. I know how to put two and two together.”

  “Is Bruno right?” Mitchell asks, raising an eyebrow, “Are you really getting involved with Brooks?”

  I look back and forth between the agents. How can I even answer that? I’m wildly attracted to Brooks, and live for the times we get to sneak off and steal some steamy moments. I’ve seen him naked, he’s seen me close to it. We’ve been hooking up all week, but still haven’t managed to do the deed...yet. He’s all I think about, all I dream about, all I want. And he’s absolutely wild for me, too.

  “It’s nothing,” I finally say to my coworkers, “I flirt with him to get information about the MC’s. That’s all.”

  “Right,” Bruno scoffs.

  “It’s not a bad strategy,” Mitchell nods. “Is he interested in you, too?”

  “He is, as far as I can tell,” I say, swallowing a smile.

  “Then use that, Collins!” Mitchell urges, “How far you push your relationship with him is totally up to you, but it could be a fruitful...union.”

  “Are you...giving me permission to pursue Brooks? Romantically?” I ask my boss.

  “I’m saying that if Keira Campbell wanted to make a move on Caleb Brooks...that would be very good for Quinn Collins’ investigation,” Mitchell says pointedly.

  I have to laugh. All my worries about stepping over the line with Brooks have been waved away. I’m free to do as I please with him. As long as I claim it was all for the investigation, it’s fine, whether that’s really true or not. There’s still the matter of coming clean to him as a Fed to deal with, of course. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. If we ever get there, that is.

  “I’ll see what I can do, Mitchell,” I grin.

  Bruno looks on with distaste, but I can’t be bothered by my fellow undercover agent’s disdain. I’ve just been given a free pass to go after the one man I’ve ever been crazy for.

  And that is crazy awesome.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I can’t stare at this screen anymore,” Kelly groans, burying her face in her hands.

  “I think I’ve gone into full zombie mode too,” Kassie sighs, shutting her laptop with a click. “Time to call it a day.”

  The three of us have been toiling over the website all day, tweaking the smallest details and optimizing its function. But after this full week of hard work, we’ve made a lot of progress. I’m actually really proud of my contributions to CrowdedNest. Especially now that I know it’s not a secret front for a drug or gun running scheme, or what have you.

  “You’ve been an amazing help around here, Keira,” Kassie says, grabbing my hand across the table. “Thank you for busting your ass for us this week.”

  “It’s been a pleasure,” I smile, squeezing her fingers gently.

  “If you keep up the good work, we may have to discuss making this a full-time thing,” Kelly puts in, “Would you be interested in moving away from being a freelancer? Just in theory, of course.”

  A genuine grin of surprise spreads across my face. “I’d love that,” I say, before I can catch myself. As the words escape my lips, I know at once that they’re true. I would love to keep working with these girls, hitting up the MC clubs after work, spending every waking moment living in hope of seeing Brooks walk through the door. I have to remind myself, for the thousandth time, that this is all a lie. In a week, the dream will be over. But I guess I can’t let the girls know that.

  “We don’t have to make any decisions just yet,” Kassie says, shooting Kelly a look, “But it’s good to know that you’re interested, Keira. That’s great to hear.”

  “Now that that’s cleared up,” Kelly says brightly, “I need a whiskey. Let’s go.”

  Just as the last words escape Kelly’s mouth, Brooks appears in his bedroom door. He’s been sleeping off his early shift at the garage—a fact that’s made it rather difficult for me to concentrate fully. One afternoon, while Kelly and Kassie were out of the office, Brooks all but carried me into his room to have his way with me. Of course, my bosses showed up again just as things were about to get serious. I’m not sure what the official term for female blue balls is, but whatever it is, I’m feeling it hard these days.

  “You ladies heading out?” Brooks asks. “I’ll keep an eye on Keira for you.”

  “No doubt,” Kassie laughs. “We were actually going to head out for a drink.”

  “Are we going to the Forty-Five club?” I ask eagerly.

  “Let’s try something new tonight,” Kelly suggests, “I know just the place. Come on, girls. I’ll drive tonight.”

  “You shouldn’t have to do all the driving by yourself, Kelly,” Brooks says, striding over to our shared desk. “Let me help. I’ll come along, and Keira can ride with me.”

  “On...your Harley?” I ask, trying to hide my excited ner
ves.

  “No, on my dragon,” he grins, resting his hands on my slender shoulders. There’s a protective possessiveness in his every touch that’s been growing with each passing day. It’s well known among the club members that I’m Brooks’ girl after hours. If only I could be his girl every hour. But a girl’s got to work—and this girl’s got to work enough for two.

  “Whatever Keira wants,” Kassie smiles, linking arms with Kelly and heading for the door, “though I can guess what that might be...”

  I grin sheepishly at my new girlfriends. My desire for Brooks is no secret to them. If anything, they’re thrilled that I might land myself a biker boy of my own.

  “You two lovebirds can follow me,” Kelly says, leading the way down to the street. Brooks and I trail behind, his hand firmly on the small of my back. He’s told me time and again that’s his favorite part of my body. Though, to be fair, he’s said that about every part of my body by now.

  “Have a good night, all,” the doorman says happily as we pass.

  Oh, I plan to, I think to myself, letting Brooks lead the way outside.

  Kassie and Kelly slide into the Prius that’s parked before the high rise. With a wicked grin, Brooks tows me over to an enormous, impressive piece of machinery standing at the curb. He waves an arm before the spotless Harley, pride gleaming in his green eyes.

  “Your chariot,” he says, handing me a half-shell helmet.

  “Don’t think I’m lame,” I say, slipping the helmet onto my hair, “But I’ve never been on one of these before.”

  “Another first of yours I get to take?” he says, letting his hand slide over my ass. “Sounds good to me.”

  “Can you two quit pawing each other for a second so we can go?” Kelly calls out the car window, “Mama needs a drink!”

  Brooks swings a denim-clad leg over the powerful machine and looks expectantly over his shoulder at me. Screwing up my courage as best I can, I lower myself onto the seat behind him. Here goes nothing.