by Jessie Cooke
At last he couldn’t take it a second longer. He reached down and grabbed her underneath her arms and pulled her up on top of him. She slid that soaking wet pussy across his hot cock, getting him soaking wet with her juices, and then she lifted her hips and used her hand to guide him up into her pussy. When he realized that she hadn’t taken off her little lace thong he was filled with another surge of passion. He liked the feel of the lace along the side of his dick as her soft, wet, warm pussy gripped his shaft and massaged it with each thrust. He’d thrust up into her and then she would raise her hips and let him pull out slowly and then they would repeat the act. Dax took her slim hips between his hands as he got even more excited and used them to hold her in place while he shoved his cock up deep into her tight pussy. She was moaning and her head was thrown back, and he reached up and took her nipples between his finger and thumb and pinched and pulled on them as she rode him. She was the sexiest, most erotic thing he’d ever seen as she bounced up and down on his cock. Their hips slapped together each time he bottomed out inside of her and she’d let out a sexy, almost desperate sound. It didn’t take long before he knew he couldn’t hold his climax back any longer. He let go of her breast and took her hand in his and guided it down to her clit. He loved watching her manipulate her own clit with her fingers. He wanted to watch her masturbate while he came. He wanted to send her spiraling down into another massive orgasm.
She bounced and rubbed and he thrust and dug his fingers into her hips until she cried out again, this time saying, “Fuck…Jesus…I’m coming again, Dax. Come with me this time. I want to feel you come with me.” Her voice sounded parched and her tongue came out and licked her lips. Dax liked it…no, he loved it. He held her tighter as her second orgasm began to rock his world, and he finally let go and filled her up with the hot, thick evidence of how much she turned him on.
When they both finished coming, she collapsed down onto his chest and lay there breathing hard, with her heart beating so fast and hard he could feel it through his own chest. He let his lips once again brush through her hair and she looked up at him.
He kissed her again, and the kisses were soft, sweet, and gentle. He held her in his arms and finally turned her on her side so that she could cuddle up next to him once more. She breathed out a contented sigh and nuzzled her face into his chest. They lay there like that, drifting back in and out of sleep until the spell was broken by the ringing of Dax’s phone. With a groan, he let go of her and sat up. He wiped the sleep out of his eyes and picked up the phone from where he’d dropped it on the floor. He grimaced when he saw on the screen that it was Dan calling. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to him at the moment…but he couldn’t put it off forever.
“Dan,” he said as he put the phone to his ear.
“What the fuck, Dax?”
“Man, I don’t know. I fucking don’t know.”
“Who did you tell?”
“I didn’t tell anyone. My guys didn’t tell anyone. We don’t know how they knew what we were doing, or even if they did know. I mean, some of the neighborhoods my men waited in were not exactly the type of place where a dozen or more Harleys drive by in tight formation very often. Maybe someone in one of the houses called the cops.”
“They have the coins. I hope you’re prepared for a shit storm, because one is about to come. You’ll have the FBI camping out back for a while, and there’s so much fucking press in this town that I can hardly push through in my car. It’s a fucking mess and I have to tell you, Dax, I was sorely disappointed. I was looking forward to finally being able to retire. Now I have fucking nothing.”
“I’m sorry, Dan, I really am. We did our best. I have one man dead, another in the hospital, and now three more in jail, soon to be four.”
“Well, that’s too bad, Dax, because I’ve got another job for you, but you’re going to need every man you can get on this.”
Dax sat up straighter. “Another job? Really? After this one went so badly?”
“Yeah. It’s not something I can ask just anyone. I need Hawk dead like yesterday. I know that you don’t like him anymore than I do. As a matter of fact, I think you may even despise him more.”
“I do. But…”
“But what? Man, you used to have a reputation as being the hardest, meanest son of a bitch on the planet. What the fuck happened to you?” Dax looked over at Angel again and almost smiled. There she was. She was what happened to him.
“So I can do this discreetly? I mean, you don’t want any public statements sent or anything like that?”
“Hell, no. That club will be guessing what happened to that fat bastard until the year 2040.”
“Okay, then,” he told Dan with one last look at Angel. “I’ll do it.”
“Great! I’ll get in touch with you tomorrow with the details of what I want.” Dax ended the call with a shudder. Hawk had been on his hit list for years and the only way to explain the fact that he hadn’t killed him yet was fear. He wasn’t afraid of Hawk, or the Sinners, or even the cops. What he was afraid of was ending up in a six-foot-by-six-foot cell for the rest of his life. And he was also afraid that his father was looking down on him, and he’d be so disappointed to know that his son couldn’t handle the rivalry without resorting to violence. That was what he’d told Dax his entire life…always do your best to handle every situation without violence. Violence will make people fear you, but using your head to be a smart, fair leader will get you the respect that you deserve…and let you keep it.
He was about to get up out of bed and head for the shower when the phone rang again. It was Garfield, one of the prospects. They called him that because he was slightly pudgy and his hair was almost the exact shade as that of the grumpy cartoon cat.
“Dax…man…I’m sorry to put this on you when you have so much on your plate, but they shot Luke and Charlie…”
“Wait, slow down. Who shot who again?”
“Hawk. He’s at the front gates with about twenty-five bikes. They shot Bruce James, and they’re headed up towards the clubhouse now.”
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! “Garfield, listen to me carefully. Lock that place down tight and then start making phone calls to anyone on the ranch right now and tell them to do the same. I want that ranch looking like a ghost town before they get to our door.”
29
Present Day
Angel was used to men just letting themselves into her space and taking over, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still annoying as hell. When she got back from meeting with the captain, she found her brother Mickey sitting in her living room. He had on a pair of cut-off sweatpants, a t-shirt with holes in it, and sandals with socks. He really, really needed a wife. He was also eating the leftover Chinese food that she was saving for dinner that night.
“Um…hello.”
He looked up at her and smiled with a mouthful of Kung Pao Chicken. “Hey, sis! How’s it going?”
“It’s okay. You have eggroll in your beard.” He laughed and wiped at the disheveled hair on his face with his napkin. Sometimes Angel wondered if he was adopted.
“This stuff is good.” He set down the paper container and picked up a pot sticker.
“Mm-hmm, I know. That’s why I was going to have it for dinner tonight.”
He at least had the decency to look slightly remorseful. “Oh damn, sorry. I’ll order you some more before I leave…damn, I don’t think I brought my wallet.”
She rolled her eyes and went over and sat down in the chair across from him. “It’s fine, Mick. What are you doing here?”
“Can’t a guy visit his little sister?”
“Sure, but most guys would call first. I’m pretty sure Kyle would be pissed if he knew you were here. I’m still undercover. How am I supposed to explain you if…someone…shows up?”
“Someone as in that new boyfriend of yours?”
She sighed. He’d obviously been talking to Kyle. “I don’t have a new boyfriend, Mickey; I’m working a case.”
“Oh yea
h? So, where were you just now?”
“I had an appointment.”
“With?”
“Mickey, why don’t you just get to the point?”
“I was trying to, but you seem to still be in denial. Kyle told me that you broke up with Micah and you’re quitting your job…all because you think you’re in love with some biker dude.”
“I’ve argued with Micah about this, Kyle, my captain…I’m not arguing it with you, Mickey, so if there’s nothing else…”
“Damn it, Angel! What is this about? Is it about Dad?”
“No! Shit!” She stood up and walked over to the bar between the kitchen and living room. With her back to him she said, “This is about me. My life. My happiness. Why can’t anyone see that I’m a grown-ass woman? I’m so sick of explaining myself to everyone. Do you explain your choices to people? You’re a forty-year-old bachelor who has a different woman in every port, sometimes two or three. Do you explain yourself to people who judge you for that?”
“No,” he said with a sigh. “You’re right. Nobody makes perfect decisions. We’re just worried about you, Angel. We love you.”
“I know that, Mick. I love you guys too. But I wasn’t happy with Micah and I wasn’t happy on the job. I miss Dad like crazy but this is not about what happened to him. This is just me growing up and changing my mind about what I want out of life.”
“So let me ask you this…and don’t get mad, because I’m still being concerned, not trying to be an asshole, okay?” She rolled her eyes again, but she turned toward him and nodded. “What are your plans now? Are you really going to be content being some guy’s old lady?”
“I’m going to go back to school. Maybe I’ll get a law degree. I’m not just going to be someone’s old lady. I’m going to be me, just with someone that I love.”
“You really love this guy? I mean…to hear Kyle tell it, he’s a bad dude.”
She folded her arms. “You know Kyle. He exaggerates every situation to make it what he wants it to be. Yes, Dax is in a motorcycle club. Yes, he grew up around some pretty bad guys. But he’s done nothing since I met him but try and take that club to a place where they can be respected and live within the law. I’ve been on this case for seven months and I haven’t withheld a thing. Dax isn’t in jail and the people in his club that have done bad things are. I will tell you this…one way this is about Dad is that if he were here, he’d respect my opinion. He was the only one that ever did!”
Mickey got up as soon as her eyes leaked tears. He went to hug her and she tried to push him away, but he was like a giant bear. Angel didn’t realize until she was in her arms how much she’d needed a hug. She relaxed into his big body almost instantly, and the tears she held back since the night her father died boiled over and began to stream down her face and soak his beat-up t-shirt.
Mickey held onto her without saying a word until she could compose herself once more. She pushed back from him and said, “The tears are frustration. They are in no way a sign of weakness or indecision, so don’t go running and telling our brothers that they are.”
He smiled and for a second she wanted to punch him, until he said, “I know, baby girl. There is not a weak bone in your body, and I think that’s what’s so hard for all of us. We want to protect you simply because you’re the girl and that’s what we were raised to do. But we have to remember that Dad did trust you. He was so proud of you, Angel, and believe it or not, the rest of us are too. I just can’t promise you that we won’t always worry about you…and butt into your business. It’s part of our DNA—the Irish, I think.”
She couldn’t help but smile through her tears as she reached for a Kleenex to wipe them away. “Thanks, Mick…I think.”
He put his hands in the pockets of his torn-up sweats and said, “There is one more thing I’m worried as hell about.”
“What’s that?” She wiped her face and blew her nose.
“Does this guy know you’re a cop?”
“Not yet. That’s my next stop.”
“Shit. You can’t go alone, Angel.”
“He won’t hurt me, Mickey, if that’s what you’re worried about. The worst that will happen is that he’ll reject me and my heart will be broken. But he would never hurt me.” Angel had told herself that so many times that she actually believed it…almost. There were things that had happened in the past seven months that she worried Dax would hold her accountable for. But still…she just couldn’t imagine him hurting her, ever.
“Angel, you never know for sure what anyone is going to do when they’re backed into a corner. Please…”
“I’ll keep in touch, I promise. I’ll text you before I go and as soon as I get back. Trust me, please.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to like it. I don’t like you and Sam living on a boat four months out of the year either, but you do it anyways. We’re grown-ups, Mick. All of us.”
“Doesn’t mean it’s not fucked up.” Angel laughed even though she was shaking inside. She was more anxious about talking to Dax than she’d ever let anyone see. Not because she thought he would hurt her physically, but because she was afraid he’d rip out her heart and leave her soul with that old familiar hole right in the center of it.
30
Five Months Earlier
Dax left Angel’s apartment and rode his bike like a crazy person from Hartford back to the ranch. It was almost a two-hour drive, usually. But that morning it took him just over an hour. He realized as soon as he drove through the gates that the other hour wouldn’t have mattered. The Sinners had come and gone and they’d left chaos and carnage in their wake.
At the front gates, he found an ambulance, two police cars, and a stretcher with a black body bag strapped down to it. Handsome stood next to it, looking completely devastated…and lost. Garfield, the prospect who had called Dax, sat on a rock about five feet away. He had blood on his face and his hands were cuffed behind him. As soon as Dax stepped off his bike he was surrounded by cops. “I live here,” he said, putting his hands up so that they could see he wasn’t armed. He’d tossed his piece into the bushes as soon as he’d turned the corner and saw the blue and red lights.
“Keep your hands up and step up against my car there,” one of the officers told him. Dax did as he was told. He was pissed off, but he was doing his best to keep it in check. These guys were invited here, so he’d go with that, for now. The officer stepped up behind him and while another kept his gun trained on them, Dax was frisked from head to toe. When the cop was satisfied that he didn’t have a weapon on him he said, “Can I see some ID?” As Dax took out his wallet he made eye contact with Handsome. His friend didn’t look lost any longer, he looked as pissed off as Dax felt. Dax handed the cop his ID and after holding it and staring at it for a lot longer than it should have taken him to read it, the policeman handed it back.
“Can I go in the gates now and find out what’s going on?” Dax asked as he tucked his wallet back into his pocket.
“Dax Marshall?” He turned at the sound of his voice. A big cop dressed in a fancy uniform was approaching him.
“Yes.”
“I’m Captain Nolan Banks.” The man put out his right hand. Dax just looked at it. He’d seen this guy in more than one press conference, and his favorite theme was cleaning out the county…which started by getting rid of the Southside Skulls. Dax wasn’t about to pretend they were friends. The captain dropped his hand and said, “Can we talk?”
“I’d really rather talk to my road captain first and find out what the hell happened here.”
“I’ll bring you up to speed.”
“I’d rather hear it from someone that was here, if you don’t mind.”
The captain looked like he did mind, but he seemed to think better of saying so. “I’ll be at the command post over there when you finish.”
Dax nodded at him and was finally able to head over to where Handsome still stood next to the body bag that was now being loaded int
o an ambulance. Dax looked at it and Handsome said, “Bruce. Fuckers. They didn’t even give him a chance. Just rode up and shot him.”
Dax looked over at Garfield. The kid looked like he was in shock. “Why’s he hooked up?”
“He had everyone locked down and someone called 911, maybe one of the girls. Then somehow he made it back up here while those assholes were tearing up our clubhouse. That’s Bruce’s blood he has all over him. He was trying to help him, but I think he died pretty much instantly. Anyways, the Sinners were leaving as the cops were rolling in. Garfield was taking shots at them. He said he hit one or two.”
Dax felt almost guilty about the twitch of his lips. The kid was only nineteen years old. He was proud of him, but he also didn’t want to see him go to jail for defending his home.
“So I don’t see any Sinner bodies lying around.”
“Nah, anyone he did hit kept going. But he didn’t put the gun down at first. Nearly got his head shot off by the cops. I think they just hooked him up to calm him down. The EMTs looked at him. He’s got no injuries, at least.”