by Olivia Jones
Jasper got off his bike and met Miguel in the center. They shook hands and embraced. Miguel wore his leather cut and the only hair on his head was a gray-colored goatee. From what I knew, Jasper and Miguel grew up together. But their friendship didn't last when they joined different MC's.
Miguel spoke first, looking past Jasper, right to me. “First of all, I want to apologize for what happened last night to one of your members. When we got the word that you were taking drugs from us, some of my boys went off on their own. The ones involved have been punished severely.”
I looked over the crowd of Mexicans and realized that a few of them were bruised and beaten in the face. A flash of Brooke's beautiful hair crossed my mind and my grip on my bike's handlebars tightened. Whatever punishment they got wasn't enough.
Miguel continued, “I hope that the death of one of my men satisfies your desire for revenge.”
Not mine, asshole.
Jasper nodded. “Dark Steel will take no revenge.” They shook hands again. “We set up this meeting so we could tell you in person that we're getting out of drugs. We know that this will affect you greatly but Dark Steel needs to get out.”
Jasper was handling everything very well. I always wondered why he passed up the president's seat to Axel. Jasper would have done a great job.
Miguel grinned. “Los Diablos understands. No hard feelings between us.”
“We can help the transition by finding you another supplier.”
“That's very generous,” Miguel replied. “But don't worry, we found one on our own across the border.”
So that's why they've been so friendly at the meeting. They don't need us anymore either. This meet could have gone in a whole different direction.
“Good to hear.” Jasper smiled.
I noticed one of the Mexicans in the back staring me down. His eyes burned through me like fire. I returned his stare. “You got a problem with me?” I yelled over.
Axel looked at me with wide eyes, slowly shaking his head to warn me to stop.
The Mexican in the back walked through the row of his brothers. His head was shaved and tattoos covered his face and neck. He was built like a prized fighter. But I could take him. I stepped off my bike and approached him in the center.
Jasper put his hand on my chest. “We're done here, Ryker. Let it go.”
His words meant nothing to me. All I could think about was pounding this guy into the ground. I was going to make him pay for endangering Brooke.
Nobody hurts my girl.
“Let them fight, Jasper,” Miguel said. “It'll be good for them to get some of this aggression out.”
Jasper let me go and I walked to within an inch of the Mexican. I gazed right into his eyes, imagining every way I was going to hurt him. He swung first, but I was quicker—my left forearm blocked his punch. I put all the power in my right fist as I pummeled his stomach. His abs were tough as nails but he bent over and groaned. I laughed at him and he reciprocated with an uppercut to my jaw. My head snapped back and I collapsed to the ground.
Everything was blurry and in an instant, the Mexican was on top of me punching me over and over again. The taste of iron hit my tongue and I spit out a quart of blood. The image of Brooke flashed before my eyes and brought me back to my senses. I flung the Mexican off me and stood up. I put my hands up for defense and began jabbing left and right. I ducked and weaved through his punches, connecting a right hook to his face.
The Mexican staggered backwards, blood running down from his broken nose. I ran forward and shoved my clenched fist right into his skull. The Mexican collapsed to the ground like a bag of bones. The Dark Steel members cheered and even some of the Los Diablos.
My feet could barely hold me up. Zane came to my side and put my arm around his shoulder as he walked me to my bike. Miguel was right—I did feel a lot better.
Chapter Fifteen
Katherine
This job was my life. I had no boyfriend, family, or friends. I spent every waking moment focusing on the task at hand. That's how I liked to live—that's how I got through each day without wanting to kill myself.
“We brought him in Agent Swift,” Malarkey told me. I entered the abandoned building the FBI was using as their headquarters for this district. We weren't usually able to conduct any business in here since being condemned to the closet in the parking garage. But today was different. Things were finally going to go my way.
“Let me handle this one alone, Malarkey.”
“Are you sure. This guy might be a handful.”
I winked. “Don't worry, I got this.”
“Whatever you want, boss.”
I slid my key card in the slot next to the door. A chime rang and I opened it. I went into Interrogation Room 1-B and set my folders down in front of the Mexican with a gray goatee.
“How are you doing today, Miguel?”
“Fucking puta,” he muttered.
“I'm doing fine, thanks for asking.” I sat down across from him at the steel table. Miguel's wrists were handcuffed and a short steel chain connected him to the cement ground. He wasn't going anywhere. I looked over at the two-way mirror, knowing that Malarkey was watching us.
“So the FBI makes the women do all their dirty work now.” He spat through his teeth.
Since joining the FBI, I'd heard it all. Nothing phased me anymore. When I was a rookie, the guys played pranks on me all the time: hiding my clothes while taking a shower, calling me Mr. Swift, and the worst of all—cutting my hair while I slept. They thought they might be able to get me to quit. But I wasn't going anywhere. I liked the way short hair looked on me.
“Miguel, I want to talk about the meeting you had with Dark Steel earlier today.”
“I'm not saying a thing to you,” he replied, seething with anger.
All motorcycle clubs were the same. They all hated the law and never spoke to cops. They would rather go to prison than rat on their brothers. Blah blah blah. But in reality, they ratted out their MC all the time. It was actually pretty easy to get them to cave. All you needed was a little leverage.
“We can play this game all day and all night if you wish, Miguel. But I'd rather just cut to the chase.” I slid the file forward until it was right under his nose. He stared straight ahead, his head not bowing down. I flipped the folder open to a picture of a bloodied waiter on the floor of the restaurant. Miguel didn't even glance at it.
“Do you know what happened at San Giovanni's?” I asked. Miguel didn't respond but a twist of his lip told me everything I needed to know.
“I'm sure you know your guys messed up big time when they left the corpse of one of your men behind at the crime scene. But they messed up even more than that.” I flipped the pages of the file and came to the shots of the shooting. “I bet they didn't realize there was a street camera that caught the whole act.”
Miguel finally looked down at the file. He examined the photos closely and sighed. I had him right where I wanted.
“We already identified who the other shooters are.” I pulled out the rap sheets of each shooter involved.
“Cut the bullshit, lady. If this was about the shooting, you'd have these guys in cuffs and not me.”
I stood up from the table and paced around the room. “You're a smart man, Miguel.”
Miguel was indeed very smart. I had read his file the FBI had on him. He grew up on the streets after his mother and father were gunned down right in front of him. At the age of fifteen, he joined the Los Diablos and at eighteen, he became their leader. Flash forward forty-five years later and his club owned the east side of town, knocking out all the other Mexican clubs with barely any bloodshed. He never got his hands dirty which was why he was able to stay out of jail all this time.
“I want to offer you a deal.” I walked behind him and continued, “I don't want your club. The Los Diablos aren't even on my radar.” I sat back down at the table to gauge his reaction. “All I want is the Dark Steel MC.”
Miguel's eyebrow a
rched. “You're full of shit.”
“Cut the attitude, Miguel. We both know you've doing this too long to be angry at the law anymore.”
Miguel shifted in his seat. “What do I get it?”
“Your club will have full immunity. Give me everything you have on Dark Steel and your members won't be charged.”
Miguel pushed the file back towards me. “And what about this?”
“We'll charge the one that died with the murder of the waiter and everyone else will get away scot-free. We all win.”
Miguel folded his hands and sighed. “I want all this in writing and I want my lawyer to go over it.”
I glanced over at the two-way mirror and nodded. Dark Steel would finally be mine.
Chapter Sixteen
Brooke
I woke up from my nap feeling rested and recharged. I went to the bathroom and examined my face. Jenny was wrong, I didn't look much different—just a little wrecked. I definitely felt different. I was no longer a virgin and I found a man that I actually loved. Happiness overwhelmed me. Things were moving so fast which was scary but exciting.
I checked my phone and saw a missed message.
Ryker: All done here. I need to see you. Can I pick you up?
He sounded so urgent. I smiled and replied back.
Brooke: Why the rush? You can't live with out me already?
Ryker: Your lips are addictive.
My face flushed red. He made me feel wanted—desired.
Brooke: I like the way yours taste.
Ryker: I'm coming over right now.
Oh shit! I'm not even dressed yet. I quickly typed back a reply.
Brooke: Can you give me thirty minutes? I just woke up and still need to get ready.
Ryker: I'm sure you look amazing. I'm on my way. Be there in fifteen.
Dammit! Why was he so controlling? I threw my phone on the bed and rushed to the closet. Nothing looked good. What would Ryker like? I pulled out a short skirt and tight tank-top that never really fit. I tried it on and looked just like a biker chick. With some dark make-up, I could really look the part. If Ryker was taking me to the motorcycle club, then I needed to fit in.
A knock at the door interrupted me brushing my hair. I thought it would be best to make him wait. Let him stew a little bit. He shouldn't be so controlling.
“I'll get it, Brooke!”
Oh shit! Jenny! I didn't want them to meet yet.
I ran out of the bathroom and into the living room but I was too late—Jenny had already opened the door.
“Hi Ryker, I'm Brooke's roommate, Jenny.” She took his hand.
“It's nice to meet you.” Ryker walked in and spotted me. We had only been apart for a few hours but he wasn't kidding about needing to see me. Ryker rushed right by Jenny and made a bee-line straight to me.
My heart raced and adrenaline pumped through my veins. I breathed hard as Ryker took me in his arms and kissed my lips firmly. I melted away into nothingness. His scent was mesmerizing. My knees felt weak and I almost fell to the ground. I let Ryker hold me up as he broke away. My eyes fluttered back open and I wondered why he stopped at all. I looked past Ryker and realized that Jenny was still standing there spying on us.
I wiped my mouth with my arm. “Sorry, Jenny.”
She crossed her arms and smiled. “Can't keep your hands off each other, eh? I miss that phase of the relationship.”
Jenny was boy-crazy and brought guys home all the time. The problem was: they only stayed for the one night and that was it. Jenny was fucking sexy but she attracted the wrong type of guy. It wasn't all their fault thought. The last time she had a real relationship was in high school but she was cheated on and never learned to trust men after that.
“We should get going, Ryker,” I said, tugging at his arm.
Ryker looked confused and hungry—not for food, but for me. I wanted him to take me in my bedroom but the time wasn't right. I didn't want to flaunt Ryker in front of Jenny any longer. It just wouldn't be right.
“Are you sure you guys don't want to stay?” she asked.
I knew she was just trying to be polite. Deep down she was crying inside. “I wish we could but Ryker wanted to show me his Motorcycle Club.”
I pulled Ryker by the arm until he finally budged and followed me out. “See you later, Jenny.”
“Nice to meet you,” Ryker said.
Jenny waved goodbye and locked the door behind us.
“What was all that about?” he asked as we walked down the hallway.
“She doesn't have a boyfriend right now and I don't want to make her jealous.”
Ryker nodded and pressed the button for the elevator. “If she wasn't there, I would have taken you on the floor of the apartment.”
This man really knows how to get my blood pumping.
The elevator dinged and we stepped inside. As I pushed the button for the ground floor, I realized that we were standing in a tight box and there was no escape. Ryker grabbed my wrists and pushed me up against the wall. His mouth hit mine and I moaned as his hands skimmed all over me.
Was he going to fuck me right here in the elevator!
Ryker hiked up my skirt and spread my legs, thrusting his hand between my thighs, his fingers brushing against my sex. “Your so wet, Brooke.” He pulled my soaked panties to the side and forced one finger into me. I shuddered as he slid it in and out. The pleasure was overwhelming. He stuck his second finger in, curving them, stretching me more and more.
“Oh my god, Ryker.” My release was so close. I bit my bottom lip and closed my eyes.
Ding!
Ryker immediately withdrew and turned around as the elevator doors opened.
No! No! The trip was over too soon and I wasn't done yet.
I pulled my skirt down and fixed my hair as Mrs. Johnson walked in carrying her toy poodle. She was an old lady that lived a couple doors down from me. The dog barked at Ryker. I smiled at her and exited the elevator, feeling supremely embarrassed.
I followed him outside to the parking lot, almost tripping over my feet. I watched him put his two fingers in his mouth and taste me. “You're so sweet, Brooke.”
My body surged with desire. How much more teasing could I take? “Fuck me now, Ryker. I don't care where,” I whispered. “I need you inside me right now or I'm going to explode.”
Ryker smiled and rested his fingers on my lips. I could taste the tiniest bit of my salty self. “Just a little while longer, baby.”
He handed me a bike helmet and jumped on. I fit my head and hair into the helmet and joined him on the motorcycle. He brought the the thing to life and I'd totally forgotten about the vibrations.
How was I going to make it without coming all over his bike?
I hugged him hard and we sped away. I tried to think of anything to keep my climax at bay: Jenny, the strip club, but nothing worked. The vibrating seat rumbled beneath me and hit my fleshy hood in the perfect spot. I felt up Ryker's strong chest and breathed heavily. I couldn't hold back any longer. I closed my eyes and focused on the pleasure, rocking my hips back and forth on seat. I was so wet that a puddle was pooling below.
The intense vibrations stopped as Ryker turned off his bike.
Fuck! Fuck! Not again!
“We're here,” Ryker announced.
I got off the bike and could feel my wetness running down my thighs. I pulled off my helmet and saw a big sign that said: The Burger Joint.
Ryker smiled. “Are you all right, Brooke? Your face is all red.”
I blushed even more. He knew exactly why I was all red.
“So this is the Dark Steel MC?” I asked, trying to change the subject.
“Not exactly.” Ryker led me inside the burger restaurant. The place was completely packed and there was a line of people wrapped around. The smell of meat, lettuce, and tomatoes made my stomach growl. We went through the small kitchen and to a back door.
“This is the MC,” he said, opening the door.
Chapter Seventeen
Ryker
I could still feel her wetness on my fingers as we entered The Burger Joint. Touching her in the elevator was so hot and the taste of her was unforgettable. I wanted to fuck her so hard and she wanted it too. But it was fun watching her squirm. She was so close to coming—and so was I. Thank Christ, she didn't touch me over my pants in the elevator. One stroke and I would've unloaded inside my jeans.