CHAPTER EIGHT
While Kratos had been suffering through his polygraph ordeal, Marco had pulled up outside the old-world mansion in which Kat lived. Turning off his bike and removing his helmet, he sat for a moment and thought about the coming days. Just how difficult were they going to be?
After a night of disjointed dreams, he’d woken up wishing Kat was next to him, and the thought of being at the rocks with her and not able to make crazy love was unimaginable, but an idea crossed his mind. The last time Kratos had ordered everyone to the hideaway, he had relented and given his okay for some of the members to ride into the village and stay at a motel. The idea of sharing a warm comfortable bed with Kat was far more appealing than spending the night on the hard ground in separate sleeping bags, but Marco was supposed to be in charge. Would anyone care if he and Kat were in the village overnight? He didn’t think so, and he suspected a few others would do the same thing.
Climbing off his bike and heading up to the front door, he was surprised to find it unlocked. Assuming Kat had left it open for him, he walked inside and trotted up the stairs to her apartment, but it hadn’t been Kat who’d left it unbolted. After sitting on her patio getting slowly smashed until the early hours of the morning she’d overslept, and hungover she’d moved at a snail’s pace since stumbling out of bed. She was stepping from the shower when she heard Marco’s knock.
“Coming,” she called, grabbing her robe and pulling it on as she walked through the living room. “Sorry, I forgot to set the alarm.”
“You need an alarm to be ready by noon?” he asked as she opened the door.
“Yeah well, call me a night person. I was up really late.”
“Some life you lead,” he remarked, unable to stop himself from eyeing her puckered nipples brushing against the thin silk of her robe.
“What can I say? I’m not a nine-to-fiver. Never have been.”
Placing his helmet on the coffee table he turned to make a comment, but the flimsy knot she’d tied had fallen open, and the robe fell apart revealing a wide strip of her naked body. Wordlessly he ambled back to her, slipped an arm around her waist, and holding her tightly he gazed into her soft green eyes.
“Do you always answer your door half-naked?”
“No, I’m usually completely naked except for black stilettos.”
Though she was staring back at him with challenge in her eyes, his firm grip around her waist, and the smoldering hunger emanating from his gaze, was melting her.
“What am I going to do with you?” he murmured, his lips curling in a wry grin.
“You have to ask?”
Emitting a low growl he dove his mouth on to hers with a fevered kiss, then swooping her up he carried her swiftly to her bed, dropped her down, and hastily removed his clothes.
“Can you put your jacket back on?”
Throwing back his head Marco laughed out loud. It was spontaneous and real, and Kat instantly saw the tough biker facade vanish before her eyes. This was Marco. The real Marco. The tender man who had wrapped her up in his arms on the couch the night before was Marco, the strict but loving dominant was Marco. She’d been right. The rude, grim, dour man she’d met at the tavern was nothing but an act.
“Sure,” he said still chuckling, “if you lose the robe.”
Slipping it from her shoulders, she watched him don his leather jacket and retrieve a condom from the drawer. His member was at half-mast, and as he climbed on to the bed, straddled her body and kneeled over her, she wrapped her fingers around his thick shaft; it quickly stiffened.
“Funny that,” he murmured as he ripped open the condom package with his teeth.
“What?”
“I don’t remember giving you permission to touch my cock.”
Her butterflies burst to life, and as she dropped her hand a delicious wave of submission caused her thighs to tense, and a wash of warm moisture flood her sex.
“Nothing to say?” he asked, smiling down at her as he slipped the thin membrane in place. “An apology, perhaps?”
“Sorry, Sir,” she said breathlessly. “Are you going to punish me?”
“What would you suggest?” he said huskily, leaning over her and placing his hands on either side of her head.
Pausing, she took a breath, then whispered,
“Whatever pleases you, Sir.”
The confirmation of her true self filled the air, and he lowered his lips to her ear.
“Kat, do you want to be my sub?”
“Yes, please, Sir. That would make me very happy.”
“How long has it been?”
“Several years,” she whimpered, the heat rising up at the back of her throat. “It’s…”
“It’s what?”
“I, uh…”
“Tell me.”
“It’s been uh, difficult—and lonely.”
“My poor girl,” he sighed, lowering the weight of his body on to hers.
Closing her eyes she let out a long sigh. She was liberated. She was able to be who she was and surrender to his delicious dominance. As the minutes ticked by she felt herself sinking into a state of deep serenity, and when he finally rolled off her and brought her into his arms, she curled into him feeling like the kitten he’d predicted she could be.
“Did you suspect,” she whispered, loving the feel of his leather jacket against her skin, “or was it obvious?”
“Somewhere in the middle,” he softly murmured. “We both have that instinct. On some level weren’t you aware of my dominant soul?”
“I think I was, and I’m so happy we’ve connected. It’s amazing.”
Marco didn’t know what to say, and worse, he didn’t know what to do. His growing feelings were real, but he couldn’t tell her who he really was, and if he did, was a relationship between them even possible?
“You know, Kat, things are fluid right now,” he said tentatively. “I mean, I don’t know what’s going on with the club or Kratos. Anything could happen.”
“You mean with this rival gang?”
“Yeah, sort of. There’s stuff I can’t tell you, at least, not yet, but like I said, things are fluid.”
“They’re a bit that way for me too. I don’t know what’s going to happen with me either.”
She’d murmured the words, her mind suddenly taking her places she didn’t want to go. What if he was involved in drug trafficking? Things were a mess!
“So, a day at a time, and let’s see where this takes us,” he said, wishing their circumstances were different. “Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
As he brushed his lips against hers, his fingers began exploring her soaked pussy, and softly moaning she raised her pelvis to meet his tantalizing touch.
“If we didn’t have to go I’d tie you up and tease you for an hour. This bed was made for my ropes.”
“Marco, you’re killing me.”
“I am? How am I killing you?”
“The things you’re saying, what you’re doing, it’s been so long.”
“Spread your legs, spread them wide.”
She felt her pulse quicken as he began kissing his way down her neck, continuing his lips on their journey to tongue her nipples, then languidly moving his mouth past her stomach and between her legs. As he gripped her inner thighs she felt his breath on her sex, then the tormenting tickle of his tongue against her magic nub. She clenched her fists, and as he continued to swirl and tease she prayed the sweet torture would never end. Moments later one of his hands released her leg and a finger slid inside her, and as he thrust it in and out, she could feel her orgasm building.
“Marco, don’t stop. Don’t stop.”
But he did, abruptly, and rising to his knees, he flipped her over to her stomach, grabbed her hips, and pulled her up on all fours. She expected him to take her from behind, but instead he moved to her side, placed his arm around her waist, and smoothed his hard palm over her cheeks.
“Did you forget who you were talking to?” he asked
, landing a hard swat on both cheeks.
“I, uh, what do you mean?”
“You’re definitely out of practice,” he declared landing several more.
“OWWW—OWWW, what?”
“Don’t stop? You don’t tell me what to do. It’s the other way around, remember?”
“I’m sorry, Sir.”
“And I didn’t much care for the what do you mean? A few good slaps for that, but first…” he said, letting his voice trail off as he fondled her backside and dallied his fingers in her pussy, “you need some more teasing.”
He continued his sweet torture until she was moaning loudly and begging to come, then landed a flurry of hot, hard smacks.
“Point made?”
“Yes, Sir,” she gasped. “Point made, point made!”
“Do you want me?”
“Desperately.”
She had whimpered the word, and moving behind her, he presented his cock to her soaked entrance and thrust forward. She threw back her head, wailing in gratitude, and as he continued to pump with ever accelerating strokes, she squeezed her eyes shut, readying herself for the imminent climax.
“Ask permission.”
“Sir, I’m there, please, Sir, please may I?”
He stopped, but stayed buried inside her, and though she uttered a deep groan, she didn’t protest.
“Play with yourself, make yourself come.”
Kat was beside herself. His cock felt huge and her bottom was hot and stinging. Urgently slipping her hand against her sex, she searched out her clit and began to rub. It was only moments later she could feel her orgasm fast approaching.
Staying buried in her glorious grotto, Marco stared down at her curvaceous red backside. He was on the edge, and if he’d kept pumping he would have exploded. Everything about her was a turn-on. Her quick wit, the shape of her ass, her husky voice, the sounds of her pleasure…
“Please, Sir?”
“Yeah, baby, right now,” he growled, clutching her hips and suddenly fucking her with strong, rapid strokes.
As she cried out through her climax, he erupted, his groans loud, filling the room until the intense spasms finally ebbed away and he slipped from her depths. Heart pounding he collapsed beside her, and as he felt her curl into his shoulder, he closed his eyes and breathed her in.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” she panted. “I mean, wow.”
“Any time you answer your door half-naked, that’s what you’re going to get.”
“What if I open it completely naked?”
“Try it and find out.”
“Good answer.”
He loved how she felt. Lying in his arms, as if she belonged there. What the fuck was he going to do?
“Being here with you like this feels so nice,” she murmured, parroting his thoughts. “I hate the thought of getting up. How much time do we have before we need to leave?”
“There’s no rush.”
“Where exactly is this place?”
“About half-an-hour before Lake Arrowhead.”
“Really? I’ve never been up there. Not sure about the whole camping thing though, especially with all those people. I don’t know any of them. It’ll be weird.”
“If you want we can spend the night at a motel in the village.”
“You can do that? Kratos won’t mind, or will he have joined us by then?”
“He won’t mind, and about joining us,” he replied, unexpectedly yawning, “I’m not even sure if he will. I think I need a quick nap before we take off.”
“Sounds good to me. I could lie here with you all day and be perfectly happy.”
Marco felt her leg land over his. Before they left he was going to snap her picture and send it to Steve. He had to know if she had a record. He was flying blind, and as good as it felt being with her, being in the dark wasn’t working for him at all.
CHAPTER NINE
After a much-needed nap, Marco had surprised Kat by insisting he take her photograph. Not able to think of a reason he shouldn’t, she struck a pose and smiled into his phone, but the moment he’d disappeared into the bathroom she’d texted Johnny.
Run deeper check on Marco ASAP. I don’t believe he’s who he claims to be.
In the bathroom Marco had sent her picture to Steve, adding a quick note requesting Steve get as much information as he could as quickly as possible. Underneath her leathers and edgy bravado, Marco sensed Kat was genuinely sweet and soft, and he couldn’t see her surviving in a club like the Kratos Kings for very long. How had she managed in New York with the Spartan Kings? Two and two weren’t adding up to four.
Kat had stuffed a backpack, and climbing on her hot pink bike she’d followed Marco to Mike’s Garage. She’d been expecting a private home owned by a guy called Mike, and was surprised that it was actually a motorcycle repair shop. Mike, a tall, burly, heavily tattooed man, with a scruffy beard and a mass of scraggly curls falling from his head, lumbered out to greet them.
“Great paint job,” he declared as he looked over her bike. “Who did it?”
“A friend in New York,” she said vaguely.
“Too bad he’s not out here. I’d have a shitload of work for him. You can stash it in the back. We’ll cover it with a tarp.”
Rolling the motorcycle into the cluttered workshop, the smell of grease and dirt filled her nostrils. The place was filthy and a complete mess. Pans of oil were laying haphazardly on the floor, and she spotted at least a dozen bikes broken apart and in various states of repair. Was this a chop shop? Johnny had been right to insist she take her bike there. He definitely needed to check it out.
“Um, where should I put it?” she asked, not seeing an empty space.
“Back here, I’ll move this.”
Tromping past her, Mike took hold of a tall metal tool chest and rolled it away from the wall, somehow managing to maneuver it around the mess on the floor, but Kat was having trouble negotiating her heavy bike through the shambles.
“Here, let me help,” Marco said stepping forward. “It’s an obstacle course and I’ve done it before.”
As Marco took over she turned and ambled out, taking the opportunity to study her surroundings, and reaching his Harley she leaned against it and eyed the frontage. The sign was barely readable, and peering along the side of the building, she could make out a large yard behind the workshop with a high fence topped with barbed wire. Serious security for a simple repair shop. There was no sign of a street number visible, but she didn’t need it. The GPS on her bike would tell Johnny exactly where it was. Marco and Mike had begun walking out of the shop, appearing to be in an intense conversation, and walking towards them she managed to catch the end of it.
“Nope, I haven’t heard from Dennis in a few days,” Mike declared. “Hope nothin’s happened to him.”
“Me too. Kratos doesn’t seem to think so, but…”
“Yeah, there’s always a but.”
“You’re right about that. I guess we’ll see you in a few days.”
“Safe ridin’. Good to meet you, Kat.”
“You too, thanks. Bye.”
She watched the big biker trundle back into his shop, and as Marco picked up his helmet, Kat looked at him quizzically.
“Dennis? I remember Spiro mentioning him. Isn’t he someone important in the club? Is he missing?”
“He’s close to Kratos,” Marco replied. “I can’t say he’s missing exactly, but he hasn’t been around. Kratos is a bit concerned.”
“Huh. Any reason to think something bad has happened?”
“Nope,” Marco lied, “not yet anyway.”
Within minutes she was clinging to Marco’s back for the trip out to the rocks. Riding separately from the group as Kratos had asked, Marco knew if he didn’t hear from his boss by sundown it was probable Kratos wouldn’t be returning at all. Though Marco was out of the drug distribution side of the club’s business, it was no secret that the mysterious figure known as HH took no prisoners, and was diabolical when
dealing with those who betrayed him.
“If I don’t make it back,” Kratos had said solemnly, “I’d suggest you ride away from this club and keep on going. I haven’t filled you in on my dealings with these bastards for many reasons, and be glad I haven’t. The only other person who knew anything was Dennis. They’ll come knocking, for sure they’ll come knocking. They’ll be looking for that fucking delivery, and they’ll probably want to start up again with whoever takes over from me, but I’ve gotta tell you, Brooder, I’ve dealt with all kinds of scum, but these people are smarter and more evil than anyone I’ve even known. Don’t get involved. I sure as fuck which I hadn’t.”
Though Marco didn’t doubt him, there was something about the short speech that had bothered him at the time, and was still bothering him, he just couldn’t put his finger on what it was. At some point the answer would come to him. It always did.
Kat knew it was a two-hour trip to Lake Arrowhead, but Marco had told her the turn-off to the gang’s hideaway was about thirty minutes before the picturesque resort village. Holding tightly as they roared down the freeway, Kat surrendered to the thrill of the ride. She had always loved motorbikes, and while most of the men she’d dated were initially impressed that she owned a Harley, invariably their attitudes changed. She sensed it made them feel inadequate or jealous, and one had suggested it was far too dangerous for a woman and she should seriously reconsider the wisdom of owning such a beast. To meet a man who made her toes curl and loved bikes was a dream come true. She’d promised herself she’d keep her distance, but as the miles whizzed past she let herself indulge in a fantasy that she and Marco were truly together, their time in bed was more than just a fleeting fling for the job, and there were no unanswered questions between them.
The time sailed by and they were soon climbing up the mountain, but rather than following the main road that would take them into the village, Marco slowed down and turned off into the woods. There was no visible trail, but she could see the tracks of the bikes that had preceded them, and having checked her watch as they’d entered the trees, she noted it was seventeen minutes before the extraordinary rocks loomed ahead.
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