by Morgan Fox
Men of Iron Horse 3
Undercover Heat
Special Agent Reid Wilson is working undercover as a member of a Dallas biker club. His assignment is simple—uncover the drug dealer inside the club. One night he’s put on the spot, teased about a sinfully sexy, redheaded bartender who won’t stop flirting with him. Normally, he’d have brushed off his desires, but when one of the members tries to stake a claim to her, Reid beats him to the chase.
Brynn Sloan can’t take her eyes off the new client at the bar. His jaw-dropping good looks and leather have her craving things she shouldn’t. Tempted by a scorching attraction, she beckons him to follow her and sparks fly. But what should’ve been a one-time deal proves to be more than either bargained for.
Lies, deceit, and guilt catch up to them and Reid is left with a choice—tell Brynn the truth and put her in danger or end it all and pray she’ll forgive him.
Genre: Contemporary
Length: 32,411 words
UNDERCOVER HEAT
Men of Iron Horse 3
Morgan Fox
EROTIC ROMANCE
Siren Publishing, Inc.
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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK
IMPRINT: Erotic Romance
UNDERCOVER HEAT
Copyright © 2015 by Morgan Fox
E-book ISBN: 978-1-63259-433-4
First E-book Publication: June 2015
Cover design by Harris Channing
All art and logo copyright © 2015 by Siren Publishing, Inc.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.
PUBLISHER
Siren Publishing, Inc.
www.SirenPublishing.com
Letter to Readers
Dear Readers,
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This is Morgan Fox’s livelihood. It’s fair and simple. Please respect Morgan Fox’s right to earn a living from her work.
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DEDICATION
I would like to thank my fabulous beta readers, Lydia Mazza and Louise Evans, for always supporting me and helping me along the writing journey.
Special thanks as always to my husband for encouraging me to ride motorcycles and love them. AND for keeping me honest on motorcycle clubs and terminology. Your support means the world to me.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
About the Author
UNDERCOVER HEAT
Men of Iron Horse 3
MORGAN FOX
Copyright © 2015
Chapter One
Brynn Sloan couldn’t take her eyes off the sexy-as-hell biker guy sitting at a table full of thugs. He looked like them, dirty and edgy in black leather vests and denim jeans, but there was something about him that turned her on. Made her want him when she shouldn’t. His dark brown eyes and midnight black hair were the right kind of hot. He looked dangerous and she liked dangerous. Liked to feel the control she had over a man like him as she wiggled her ass in his direction.
She had a slight inkling that he would return to the bar this evening. He’d become a fixture, meeting with the same group of motorcycle miscreants over the last week. The loud obnoxious crew drank their share of beer and partied hard, and each night he’d come in, she requested to wait on their table. Anything to be closer to him. She wanted to play a little game of tease, even though she was well aware that she shouldn’t. Being close to him, brushing up against his leg, leaning over him with her breast near his face, something was tempting her to be wicked and way naughty.
Tonight she brought her A-game. She wore a short, tight leather skirt and corset that dipped exceedingly low on her chest. One quick movement and a nipple would pop out for sure. She also wore black net thigh-high stockings with garters that showed beneath her skirt, three-inch stilettos, and a matching red bra and lace thong panties. The only thing missing was a giant sign that read, “Likes to fuck.”
Like clockwork, her eyes darted to the door as it opened. The hair on the back of her neck rose as her gaze settled on his striking features, dark piercing eyes, chiseled jaw line, a six-foot frame with tone, tight muscles accentuated by black leather chaps, jeans that molded to his perfect ass, and a leather jacket covered in motorcycle club patchwork. Moisture pooled between her legs and a tightness settled in her throat. She’d never get used to the way he looked. If a man could be called fucking hot, it was him.
She hadn’t learned his name, hadn’t cared to ask. What she was interested in was getting to know him in a more primal way. He did something to her and he wasn’t even trying. Just gazing at him had her dreaming about him, had her body screaming with needs nothing seemed to satisfy. She had an idea what might.
“Do you suppose he’s hung like a horse?” she asked aloud, Sam and Zerina eyeing her. She couldn’t help it. She was curious about him, especially the parts of him she couldn’t see.
“Maybe you should ask him,” Sam told her, shaking her head. “You really need to keep it together, Brynn. Stop neglecting your other customers.”
She sighed, fanning herself. “I can’t help it. He’s
so distracting.”
Zerina laughed. “Wow. Take him out back and ride him already. Do something besides pine for him.”
Brynn popped the top off a beer and chugged it down. “I’m not pinning for him. But you’re right. I so need to do that.”
Layla moved up to her side and slid a condom across the bar. “Since I’m pretty sure that’s what you’re going to do, be safe about it.”
Zerina and Sam snickered.
Brynn eyed the shiny yellow wrapper and laughed. “You care. You really care.” She grabbed Layla and hugged her tight. With her three-inch heels, she towered over Layla, placing her sweet little face right between her full-figured breasts.
“Brynn, you’re suffocating me,” Layla said in a muffled voice.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” She released her. “That happens sometimes.”
“It doesn’t have to,” Sam said, rolling her eyes. “If you didn’t put those suckers on a platter for the world to eye-fuck, you wouldn’t be such a hazard.”
Zerina finished waiting on another customer. “She’s right, you know,” she added, grabbing a beer from the cooler in front of her to slide down the bar. “I’m surprised you haven’t passed out from lack of oxygen. Surely that corset is cutting off blood supply, too.”
“Ha, ha,” Brynn said, glancing over to the table to see him. This time when she glanced his way, he was looking at her, too. A shiver jolted her. “I’d better get back to work. I’ve got a certain table requiring my immediate attention.”
* * * *
Special Agent Reid Wilson was undercover. The motorcycle group he’d successfully befriended was suspected of running drugs. He hadn’t seen the inner workings of the club yet. He was too new and trust was something not easily given. There was a lot riding on his investigation and playing it cool was important.
Normally he didn’t have an issue keeping it cool except for the distracting auburn-haired vixen that seemed to like to put her tits and ass in his face. Not that he was complaining. He liked it. A lot. She was gorgeous, all legs and full, round breasts. She was constantly teasing him, brushing her body against his each time she delivered drinks to the table.
Thanks to her sumptuous attributes, he’d gone home with blue balls all week. If it were any other time, he’d gladly take her home and show her exactly what she was doing to him. Right now, all he could do was look. He was working and couldn’t risk that she was one of those clingy chicks. Not with so much riding on the success of his case. He wasn’t sure how long the club would continue to meet at Iron Horse and he didn’t want to be the one to fuck it up over a woman.
“Quinn,” Cappy called out. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Sorry. I was working on my bike.” He rubbed his hand over his short black hair, pulling out the only available chair at the back table. Quinn Williams was his undercover name. He had to remember that.
“Everything all right?” Tank asked, the club gearhead. “Need any help?”
He gave his head a gentle shake. “Nope. All good. Just needed a tune-up.”
“Next time, do that shit at the shop,” Cappy ordered, before pulling his woman onto his lap.
After a long pause, Quinn asked, “Does the service suck tonight?” He shifted his gaze toward the sexy redhead who, surprisingly, hadn’t rushed over to the table to take his order the moment he’d arrived. That was a first.
Randy laughed, drawing his attention. “What? Did that hot piece of ass not give it to you yet?”
Quinn frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“Are you fucking blind?” Tank questioned, his eyes narrowing. “We’ve all noticed the way that smokin’ hot bartender looks at you.”
“Finger her the next time she comes over,” Dozer, Tank’s twin brother blurted out. “I bet she’s not wearing anything under that skirt.”
“Better still, whip out your cock when she comes by. I bet she’ll fuck you where you sit,” Cappy said with a chuckle, returning his focus back to his girl.
Hearing them talk about her like she was just a fuck toy shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. The thought of any of them touching her turned his blood hot. But for himself, slipping between her legs was a total wet dream, one that now had his cock throbbing.
“I’m sure she hears that a lot, too,” Quinn muttered, rolling his eyes at the laughing gang.
Then her wild fragrance was all over him. He cocked his head to see her standing beside him, her hazel eyes setting him on fire. He swallowed hard.
“Can I get you something?” she asked, eyeing him.
Damn, I bet she tastes as good as she smells.
“Another round for the table, sweetheart,” Randy shouted with a slap to the oak wood surface.
When Quinn didn’t answer, she leaned over, her breasts practically falling out of the revealing top she wore. She was curvy, deliciously curvy, and as his gaze wandered over her body, he spotted a dark, berry-colored halo peeking out. So that was the color of her nipples. He suddenly wanted to rip the corset from her body and suck on those beautiful breasts.
Stroking his thigh with the tips of her fingers, she arched a brow. “Cat got your tongue?”
His cock hardened. Shit.
“Nice ass, sweetheart,” Tank shared with a whistle. “Bend over a little more and let me see if you’re wearing any panties. We got a wager going on over here. Quinn there thinks you’re letting that pretty kitty breathe.”
She stood up, glancing over her shoulder. “I know,” she said confidently. Then she turned back to face him. “The usual?”
“Sure,” he said, watching her walk back to the bar, unaffected by the heathens’ behavior.
“Damn, Quinn.” Dozer paused. “If you don’t fuck her, one of us sure the hell will.”
That got his attention. He didn’t want any of them touching her. A protective guard shot up, and suddenly he was committing to something he had no business committing to. “Fuck you, Dozer. I saw her first and she clearly wants a man with all his teeth and less body odor.”
Tank howled and Dozer smacked his arm. “Ha, ha. You’re fucking hilarious.” Then his dark eyes grew even darker as he motioned closer to Quinn. “I’ll give you tonight. If you can’t do it. I’ll show you how it’s done.”
Quinn’s gaze shot to her as she stood at the bar, popping the tops off the beers. He never had trouble with the ladies before and he didn’t now. But he didn’t like the pressure the club was putting on him to have sex with her. He should be thankful that he had an excuse to nail her. They were practically making him, even if deep down, he desired her more than he should.
Shit…
* * * *
Brynn was on a mission and the end result was bound to be a success. “I’m gonna do it,” she said, nudging Layla’s arm.
Her eyes rounded. “Now?”
She nodded, licking her lips. “Can you cover for me?”
“Sure. Zerina showed up and Sam’s here. We should be good.”
Her body warmed as she caught sight of Quinn watching her. She’d heard them call out his name and she liked it. The name suited him.
She collected the beers to deliver and said, “The stockroom’s off limits for the next thirty minutes.” She winked as she moved around Layla and headed for the table.
She placed the beers at the center of the table and the thugs jumped all over them, grabbing their bottle and resuming whatever the hell they were doing. With a grin on her face, she locked eyes with Quinn. She’d purposefully forgotten his drink and he looked at her as though he’d figured her out.
She stepped back from the table, and headed toward the storeroom. When she turned, he was still looking at her. She crooked her finger, beckoning him, and then she moved into the room and waited.
Her pulse was pounding at her temples, the excitement of touching him overwhelming. She never had trouble telling a guy she liked him, never held back when she was interested. But even though she tossed around the idea that she slept around, she
didn’t. Oh, she wasn’t a prude and she sure the hell wasn’t a virgin, but she also wasn’t one to fuck just anyone. She was selective and could honestly say she hadn’t gone to bed with a man in a long time. No one had enticed her, made her want to drop all inhibitions, and just be naughty.
Until now.
The moment she saw Quinn enter the bar a week ago, she was hooked. There was something about him that instantly sent her body flooding with desires she couldn’t tame on her own. The dreams he inflicted her with had her wet and needy and she didn’t like feeling so damn consumed. She’d have this one moment with him, get her kicks and enjoy every damn second. Then it would be over and he could go back to drinking beer with a bunch of biker dudes with zero class.
She felt his stare before she turned back toward the entryway. He moved into the storeroom and closed the door behind him. Neither of them spoke as he erased the distance between them.
But just before she thought he would touch her, he stopped. “Is this a thing for you? Asking men you don’t know into the back room to see if you can get them to follow?”
Her throat tightened. Never had she asked a man to follow her into the storeroom. He was the first. That tidbit of information left her trembling even more.
“Consider yourself the lucky one,” she said in a cryptic sort of way.
He arched a brow, his gaze shifting from her lips to her eyes. “What’s your name?”
Seriously? He wanted to know her name? Did he not notice that she stood in a seductive pose, waiting for him to make a move? Talking wasn’t what she had in mind. If she wanted to be social, she would’ve asked him out to lunch, not for a quick visit to the storeroom. “Does it matter?”