Lucky (No Prisoners MC Book 4)

by Lilly Atlas

  “I hear you. Thank you, Lucky.” She nuzzled her face into his hand.

  “Don’t keep that shit from me, angel. No need to stress on your own. You got me for that, okay?”

  She nodded. Did she have him? Really have him? His actions sure said yes. Still, she was insecure.

  “Okay, so you and I are going to a hotel on the outskirts of Vegas where we’ll sit around bored out of our minds while the others have all the fun. Once everyone is rounded up and it’s safer than safe, I’ll take you to see Rebel. You can say your piece, then your sexy ass is out of there.”

  She couldn’t help but chuckle. “I know, Lucky. We’ve been over this four hundred and seventy-two times in the past twenty-four hours. I just want to look Rebel in the eye and have him know he didn’t defeat me. I want him to know he destroyed any chance at having a daughter.” She snorted. “He probably won’t give a shit, but maybe there’s a small part of him that cares about me in some way. He’s my only remaining blood relative and he turned out to be a ruthless jerk. I just need some closure. I have no desire to stick around and see what you all decide to do with him. There are a few things I’d like to say to Savage as well.”

  Despite all evidence to the contrary, a small part of her held a fierce hope that his soul could be redeemed. A part of her that so desperately clung to the idea of having a family. Losing her mother, finding a new father and now finding out he wasn’t the type of man she hoped he’d be was a lot of emotional trauma in such a short period of time.

  Lucky grunted. “I’m sure there are. For the record, I hate the idea of you being anywhere near either of them. Even if I understand it.”

  With a smile, Kori wrapped her hands around Lucky’s biceps—or as much around the impressive muscles as she could get—and drew him to her. She teased the seam of his lips with her tongue, but apparently, he wasn’t in a playing mood as he opened his mouth and basically inhaled her.

  “Hey!” Jester yelled across the parking lot. “Unless you two are gonna get nekkid and give us a real damn show, stop sucking face and let’s roll out!”

  Lucky kept his mouth on his woman but moved one hand off her face and held his middle finger up in Jester’s general direction. When he finally pulled back, Kori’s face was flushed with a deep pink blush he assumed wasn’t strictly from embarrassment. Since her eyes were lust-glazed, chances were good.

  “Go time, baby,” he said as he flicked a finger down her nose.

  She nodded and reached for her helmet, securing it with a brave smile that hid her anxiety. God, he fucking loved this woman.

  Yes, loved her. It was a fierce and consuming feeling he hadn’t experienced before and knew deep in his gut he never would again. Yet, when she’d uttered the three words to him, he remained silent.

  And she hadn’t said it again. It made sense. Putting that out in the universe only to not have it returned had to be a kick in the balls. Or lady balls in her case, because she had them in spades.

  He wanted to say the words. They’d been on the tip of his tongue countless times this week as he watched her endure hours of questioning by the club leadership. Sure, they weren’t trying to intimidate her or treat her like any kind of suspect, but they were intense and the strain of being the focus of that intensity had shown.

  Each time he came, which had been many this week, he’d had to grit his teeth with jaw-cracking force to keep from bellowing out his love for her. He just couldn’t put voice to it. Not yet. Not while there was another man out there who thought he had rights to her. There wasn’t any fear that Kori wanted Savage, but Savage wanted her and thought he had a claim on her. Lucky planned to make it crystal-fucking-clear that he was dead wrong.

  He wanted to come to her with all of this behind them. Then he could tell her and he’d tell her ten times a day to make up for any insecurity he’d caused her this week. He just needed her to hang in there a little longer and she’d get the words she yearned for. And so would he, because he couldn’t fucking wait for her to say it again.

  The ride to Vegas was uneventful and they reached the outskirts in the usual under three-hour trip time. Lucky revved his engine and waved at his brothers as he took the exit for the hotel he and Kori would be stashed at until it they were sure it was safe to be seen. If either of them were spotted before Striker and Shiv put their plan into action, someone would tip off Rebel and blow the whole thing to hell.

  Still, it slayed him to be left out of the action and he planned to make the most out of doling out a righteous punishment once he received the all clear from Acer as was the plan. For now, at least he got to kill the time with his woman.

  He checked them in with cash, under a false Mr. and Mrs. Name. The motel was somewhere on the spectrum between piece of shit and mediocre. Fancy Vegas resorts tended to raise an eyebrow at cash transactions, so a motel it was.

  Kori was quiet as he let her into the room. She dropped her overnight bag next to the door and stuck her hands in her back pockets. Dark circles ringed her eyes and she swayed a bit.

  “Tired, baby?” he asked.

  “Actually, I am. I was good until the last twenty minutes of the trip and now I feel like my eyelids weigh eighty pounds.”

  “So lie down. Take a nap. We’ve got time to kill.” He moved to her and pushed the leather jacket off her shoulders, revealing the creamy skin her Harley tank top exposed. He couldn’t resist a quick lick along her collar bone, but he should have because his cock surged to attention the second her flavor burst on his tongue.

  “Hmm,” she said, letting her head fall back and giving him access to her neck. “Seems like you have something besides sleep in mind.”

  With a chuckle, he sucked the skin of her neck between his teeth. “That is on my mind every second of every day, baby.” Reluctantly, he stepped back. “But I do want you to sleep. If we’re lucky we’ll have time to play a bit when you wake up.” He turned her and gave her a nudge toward the bed.

  “You’re no fun,” she said, pout evident in her voice.

  “I’ll ask you to reevaluate your opinion on that later when I’m balls deep in you with my fingers on your clit.” Jesus, he needed to stop the sexy talk or her nap would never happen.

  A visible tremor ran through her. Dirty talk did it to her every time.

  “What are you going to do while I take a nap?” she asked over her shoulder as she kicked off her riding boots.

  “Hold you.” Like he’d miss an opportunity to have her in his arms.

  “That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” She rested back on the bed and scooted to the far side, rolling over until she faced the wall.

  Lucky toed his own boots off, shed his cut and shucked out of his jeans. Then he crawled into the bed and curled his body around her much smaller one. The sigh of contentment Kori emitted made his chest ache in an unfamiliar way.

  Within minutes she was fast asleep, the even rise and fall of her chest synching with his own breathing. Lucky closed his eyes and let the fatigue wash over him. For someone who had once been averse to any female sleeping in his bed, he sure as hell loved the feel of Kori tucked in tight against him.

  To be honest, he couldn’t even remember the appeal of hopping from bed to bed. Not when he’d found perfection and had access to earth-shattering pleasure whenever he wanted.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Rebel scooted his hips to the edge of his leather chair, leaned back against the headrest and folded his hands beneath his head. The new club whore who knelt between his knees got to work extracting his dick from his pants and stroking him.

  She’d been coming to parties for the last two weeks. Young, maybe twenty-two with huge tits, a tight ass, and from what he heard, a mouth that sucked better than a Dyson. A good blowie was just what he needed to take his mind off all the shit he was dealing with.

  Fucking Kori had been gone about two weeks now, and Savage was growing more pissed by the day. A printed receipt for plane tickets to Florida had been discovered in her
dresser drawer. So, he’d sent two prospects to Florida to look for her, but they’d been unsuccessful so far.

  Savage couldn’t be spared at the moment even if he was the one who wanted to drag Kori back by the hair and remind her that the club owned her. They had an enormous shipment coming in tomorrow. A shipment that would shoot them to the top of food chain in Vegas’s drug trade.

  It was time to bring in some additional club members. Their operation was growing faster than they could keep up with and the money was rolling in. That was the second source of stress keeping Rebel up at nights. Who should he ask into his inner circle? Which of his men would jump on board the fast-moving money train? There were some who he was almost certain would drool over the potential earnings and join up no questions asked.

  Others, like Bull, would be a harder sell. Who gave a fuck? If they couldn’t get behind their president they could get the fuck out of his club. He was prepared and more than willing to lose members to protect what he and Savage had busted their asses to build over the past year.

  “Um…” A confused voice sounded from between his legs.

  The whore still knelt between his legs, her pouty painted lips turned down in a frown and his flaccid dick resting in her hand. Her green eyes were wary, nervous.

  Fucking stress messing with his damn hard-on. “Well, work the fuck harder,” he growled at the girl, whatever her name was. He fisted a hank of her curly dark hair and shoved her face in his crotch. “Put it in your fucking mouth. You need written instructions, bitch?”

  She squeaked but did as he asked, closing her mouth around his soft cock. With a hand still guiding her head, Rebel closed his eyes and thought about all the money that would be rolling in over the next few weeks.

  He was lord of the fucking manor around the club and would soon have the green to match his status. Not surprisingly, his cock filled at the thought of the money. Worked every time. What could he say? Money and power turned him on.

  He held the girl’s head still as his erection grew, filling her mouth to her throat. She gagged and tried to pull back but he forced her to stay in place and adjust.

  When he finally released her head, she snapped up and coughed like she’d been choking. Watery eyes that held a hint of fear stared up at him and he grew even harder. That’s what he liked to see. A woman who knew he was in control, master of the fucking house, and not afraid to let her know it.

  “It ain’t gonna suck it self, girlie. Get back to work.”

  She returned to her task and Rebel’s eyes drifted closed as pleasure washed over him. Looks like the guys were right. She was damn skilled at sucking cock.

  A forceful banging on his office door had her yelping and releasing him again.

  “What?” he barked. “This better be fuckin’ good.”

  “Zip it up, Pres,” Savage called through the door. “Shiv and some of his boys just rolled into the yard.”

  Rebel’s blood ran cold. Just what he fucking needed. Those boy scouts invading his space a day before the biggest deal of his life. “Goddammit.” He stood up so fast, the girl on the floor sprawled back on her ass. “Get the hell out of my office.”

  She scurried across the floor and scrambled to her feet, slipping out the door without a word. A million things ran through Rebel’s head in that moment, not the least of which was fear. And he didn’t do fucking fear. Others feared him.

  Was it coincidence? Shiv showing up just as he was about to receive an enormous shipment? Or had Lucky tipped them off? No, he wouldn’t dare. Kori had had such a firm grip on his balls, no way in hell would he have put her at risk.

  Rebel strode down the hallway toward the bar area, making sure to instill enough swagger in his gait to appear unconcerned by his unexpected guests. Shiv and Striker sat at the bar joking with his prospect, a bottle between them.

  “Hey, Shiv, Striker! To what do we owe the pleasure of a visit from the mother chapter’s president and VP?” He slapped Striker on the back and squeezed Shiv’s shoulder. “Get me a glass, prospect.”

  Shiv tensed. It was so fast and so slight there was a chance Rebel imagined it. Shiv recovered quickly, standing and giving Rebel a back-slapping hug. “Hey, brother. Guys were itching to take a road trip and the ol’ ladies were itching for some girl time. You know, drinking wine, putting goop on their faces, all that shit. We haven’t been up here in ages so we figured it would be the perfect time.”

  His voice was friendly and the explanation made perfect sense, but Rebel had been around long enough to learn shit wasn’t always as it seemed. Something about Shiv’s expression twisted Rebel’s stomach into a complicated knot.

  “Savage around?” Striker asked.

  Good question. He’d been the one to warn Rebel of their chapter brothers’ arrival, but now he appeared to be in the wind. Lucky bastard. “Not sure what he’s up to, actually. I ain’t seen him around yet today.” He shrugged. “Lucky with you? Be good to see him again.”

  “Nah,” Striker answered. “Sure, he’s a club veteran, but he’s only been with our chapter a few weeks. Gotta prove himself a little before he gets to have fun. You know how it is.”

  Some of the knot unraveled and Rebel was able to take a breath. No way Lucky would have stayed back and missed out on the action if they were here to fuck with Rebel’s drug business. Maybe it really was a coincidence. “Wish you guys had warned us ahead of time so we could have prepared for a visit.”

  Something flashed in Striker’s eyes and Rebel knew in that instant this was no fucking coincidence. Motherfucker. His insides seethed but he kept on the mask of a man who didn’t have a care in the fucking world.

  “Hey, look,” Shiv said. “We ain’t here to fuck with your day.” He waved a hand in Rebel’s direction. “Do your thing. We’ll hang, drink, my guys will flirt with your ladies. Later, we’ll catch up.”

  As much as he dreaded leaving the Arizona chapter guys unsupervised in his clubhouse, he needed eyes on Savage and fast. Then he needed to make sure there was no way any of them could discover the two hundred thousand dollars’ worth of heroin they had stashed in the shed. They may know too much, but without proof they really knew shit.

  “Sounds good,” he said, and tossed back his drink. “Know a great place for us to cause a little trouble tonight.”

  “Perfect,” Striker said.

  Rebel nodded and speed walked back down the hallway. He bypassed his office and jogged out the back door and straight to the shed. A van had been backed up to the entrance, the rear doubled doors wide open.

  With a violent jerk, he wrenched the shed door open and almost dropped to his knees in relief when Savage greeted him. The business end of Savage’s pistol loomed two inches from his head but he couldn’t have given any less shits.

  “Fuck! Sorry, Pres.” Savage holstered his weapon.

  “Forget it. Just move as much as you can. They’re inside getting fucked up. We can slip all of this out of here easy.”

  “They know?” Savage held an armful of heroin packages.

  Bile rose in Rebel’s throat. “Suspect something, I think.”

  “Fuck.”

  Silence descended as they loaded the van in record time. Three or four more trips should do it. With his arms full, Rebel used his back to open the door to the outside. He spun around to deposit the packages in the van and stopped dead in his tracks.

  Jester stood, blocking the open van. The asshole was so wide, with his hands on his hips and legs in a shoulder width stance, he spanned the entire rear of the van. Striker stood to the side of him, pistol trained on Rebel.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. He couldn’t even reach his damn weapon.

  “It’s over, Rebel,” Striker said. He motioned with his gun for Rebel to unload his arms. “Spin around,” he ordered after the packages hit the ground.

  No fucking way was he going to turn around and wait to receive a bullet in the back of his head. Striker could just shoot him in the face like a fucking man. He stared the two men do
wn like their discovery of his actions didn’t bother him in the least.

  Jester rolled his eyes and held up a set of plastic handcuffs. “No one’s gonna kill you…yet. Turn the fuck around.”

  Just as Rebel began to turn, Savage burst outside gun drawn. He dove for Striker before the other VP had a chance to react, and pistol whipped him clear across the face.

  “Fuck,” cried Striker as his cheek split open and blood poured down his face. Savage swept his foot behind Striker’s legs and he crumpled to the ground. With a laugh, Savage sprinted toward the clubhouse.

  Rebel slammed against the side of the shed as Jester’s mammoth body rammed into him. Jester roughly jerked Rebel’s hands behind his back and secured the handcuffs. He then kicked Rebel’s feet out from under him.

  His entire body crashed to the ground. Fuck, that hurt. Jester bound his feet as well then slapped a piece of duct tape over his mouth before turning to Striker. “You okay, VP?”

  He tuned out Striker’s grunts of pain as Jester prodded his face and helped him to stand, letting his brain spin with a plan. They’d all be fucking dead soon.

  Every last one of those do-gooder Arizona assholes. No one fucked with him. He was one week and one shipment away from owning Vegas.

  He’d kill them all.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Lucky awoke to a warm woman cuddled in his arms and the sexiest ass he’d ever known slowly squirming against his cock. Damn, this woman was perfect for him.

  He slipped a hand under her shirt and over the sleep-warmed skin of her soft stomach. Up he went until the lush weight of a breast filled his palm. He cupped it, thumbing the nipple.

  “Oh,” she said, a false innocence in her voice. “Sorry, did I wake you? I didn’t mean to.”

  “Mmm.” He licked the shell of her ear. “Didn’t mean to rub that gorgeous ass all over my cock?”

  She giggled. “Nah, I definitely meant to do that.” She gasped as he raked his teeth across her jawline.