by KB Winters
“What else?” Cross asked.
I smirked at how uncomfortable he looked, all big and tall and masculine in a room meant for a small boy. “You want to get him ready for bed?”
Cross’s face dissolved in a look of horror, and I had to bite my lip to stop the laughter threatening to wake up Beau and make for a cranky little boy.
“I’m kidding. You can grab a beer if you want or take some time to find some other creative ways to get out of talking about what’s bothering you.”
I swear his face held a distinct pink tint as he brushed past me, his leathery masculine scent invading my nose for long moments as flashes of the physical pleasures I’d found with him played in my mind.
“You’re a regular comedienne aren’t ya?”
I shrugged. “Nope. Just a teller of unfortunate truths.” I left Cross with that thought as I quickly worked off Beau’s shoes, socks and jeans. He hated sleeping in his t-shirt and undies because he thought it was too childish but he’d never had the unfortunate task of trying to undress his sleeping form. After a quick kiss goodnight, I pulled the door closed, leaving a small gap because I was an overprotective parent to my core.
“You’re good at that stuff.” Cross’s voice startled me in the dim hall. “Sorry,” he said, looking more amused than sorry.
“It’s okay.” My smile was a little wobbly as my heartrate returned to normal. “And thanks,” I said, sidestepping him as I made my way down the staircase. Distance was key when Cross was fresh from the shower, smelling like a man with slightly damp, chocolate hair. “Every day it feels like it’s all one second from disaster so don’t let this cool shell fool you. I’m told it’s normal but that doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“I couldn’t tell. You look like you’re killing the whole parenting thing.”
A laugh exploded out of me and I smacked a hand over my mouth, frozen in case Beau woke up. “Thank you, Cross. That’s nice to hear. Drink?”
“Sure.” His lips quirked up like he knew I was trying to change the subject. “I never thought you’d be uncomfortable with compliments. You seem so confident.”
“I am, but any parent who is confident is probably doing it wrong.”
I’d seen all types of parents and had been raised by two supremely confident parents who, if they weren’t rich, would have been prime candidates for neglect convictions. I grabbed a bottle of wine from the fridge along with some cheese and crackers. I didn’t tell him the hors d’oeuvres were my own recipes; I figured he was dealing with enough hippie dippy food as it was. And accepting it pretty well. I didn’t want to push my luck.
“Grab those glasses, would you and follow me.”
Cross followed me into the backyard, setting the glasses on top of the colorful three-legged table I’d painted with Beau a few years ago. “Cool table.”
“Family art project.” The two Adirondack chairs were as colorful as the table. “Pick a color.”
He grinned. “You know I have to take the one with the cape on the back,” he said with a laugh as he lowered himself onto the chair. “I always wanted to be a superhero.”
“I’m sure you’d look fantastic in tights.” He cut me a glare that made me laugh again and finally I felt the last of the tension seep from my body. “Very fantastic.”
He popped the cork and frowned. “What the hell is this? Moonshine?”
“No, because this isn’t the 1920’s, and its blueberry wine. I picked it up at the Farmer’s Market.” He still looked skeptical but I filled both glasses to the halfway point because it was clear Cross had something on his mind. “Drink.”
Despite his tough guy persona, Cross was openminded, sniffing the aroma before taking a small sip. Then a bigger one. And a bigger one still. “Damn that’s good. Better than I expected.”
“It’s made by a local artisan. She also does a fantastic blueberry kush wine.” The surprise that flashed on his face was damn near comical. “It’s delicious too and has a low alcohol content.”
“Why didn’t I know about this?” he grumbled.
“Probably because from what I understand, your dispensaries aren’t licensed to sell booze. Anyway she only sells them at the market, so if you’re interested you need to get up early on the weekends.”
Quiet settled between us, both lost in our own thoughts. My head was tilted toward the sunset, as I enjoyed the last splashes of light before it began its final descent while Cross stared into his glass. It was nice but I knew he didn’t come to spend time with me. “Ready to talk?”
He sighed, a universal male sign for he absolutely did not want to talk. I wasn’t surprised. Disappointed maybe, but Cross didn’t owe me anything so no, not surprised. “There’s not much to say, Moon.”
“I hear you, but your aura is vibrating red and black, which means you have a lot on your mind and whatever it is, there’s danger associated with it and possibly death.” I didn’t want to tell him what else, but I had to. “And you don’t know where all the threats are coming from.”
His blue eyes were obsidian with nothing but the fading sunlight surrounding us, but I could see the emotion written all over his handsome face right now. Shock. “How in the hell could you possibly know that?”
I was used to that response when I offered an analysis because people always vacillated between shock and anger, sometimes defensiveness and accusations. “I just told you, red and black surround you like Deadpool.”
He wanted to say more, to question if I really saw it or had another source for my information. Thankfully, he didn’t. He poured more wine and took his time finishing the glass before he spoke. “You’re right and you know almost as much as I do about it. Roadkill is one of our problems even with Vigo now worm food, but I can’t say for sure where the other threat is coming from. But fuck, it feels like something is coming. Something big.”
“Are you ready for it, whatever it is?”
He huffed out a purely masculine laugh. “Fuck no.”
I stood and reached for the blanket I used as a cushion on my chair, fanning it out on the ground. “Come on, sit. Take off your vest, your shoes and any weapons you have.”
“Weapons?” Thick brown brows arched in a question.
“Yeah, aren’t people trying to kill you?” Arms crossed, I dared him to argue.
“And I suppose you don’t have any weapons around?”
I heard the challenge in his voice and raised my chin in defiance. “I’m used to being underestimated,” I told him. “When I was younger, I hated it. It always bothered me. And then I grew up. I accepted it for the advantage it gave me.” The look on his face when I pulled the butterfly knife was priceless. “See? That advantage.”
His smile curved up, highlighting his soft lips and the sparkle in his eye. “You never fail to surprise me, Moon.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I told him and sat on the blanket with my legs folded in front of me. “Sit here.” I patted the space right across from me and when he sat, our knees brushed. His scent and his heat swirled around me with the impact of a tornado, making it hard to focus.
“Okay. Now what?”
“Now we breathe.” He groaned but I held a serene smile. “Not deep breathing necessarily, just calm breaths. Listen to my voice and breathe like this.” His gaze tore through me as if he could see more than I was allowing, which was somewhat unsettling. “None of that.”
“None of what?”
I pointed at his face. “None of that heat and desire. We’re being calm. Relaxing.”
“I’m getting very relaxed.” His gaze turned predatory, intense with a raw hunger I’d yet to see on his usually stony expression.
“Pay attention,” I admonished, and he only smiled again.
“You have my undivided attention Moon.”
Why did my whole body light up like a Christmas tree when his voice pitched low like that? Probably because I knew he could more than match the promise in his gaze. His intoxicating voice. I shook i
t off because I had to, because Cross needed me to. Sex was amazing most of the time and so far with him it had been better than ever, but it wouldn’t fix this.
“Focus,” I told him and closed my eyes, continuing the deep breathing exercises while letting the sound of his breathing slow my own.
“This isn’t working.” Cross sounded frustrated but I kept my eyes closed and reached for his hands.
“Give it time.” It didn’t always work but with a little effort, I knew it could help him clear his mind and focus on the big picture.
“I have a better idea.” His voice was a deep growl, forcing my eyes open. Reluctantly.
They opened just in time to see his handsome face twisted with desire and heading my way until his big body pressed against mine, slowly leaning me back onto the ground. “This isn’t the right position.” But it was one I enjoyed as his denim-covered cock settled against the wet panties that separated us.
“But it is a pretty damn good position. Right?” For emphasis his hips moved against mine, sending a fiery trail coursing through my veins and a starburst behind my eyes.
“Yep. Very good. Very.”
Cross chuckled at my words and once again I was struck at how much that one move transformed his face from the hardened president of a motorcycle club to a boyishly handsome man with eyes that lit up beautifully. “You’re too damn distracting, Moon.”
I loved the way he said my name, low and gritty and hungry. Like he really meant his words, not like he was playing games. “I think that’s my line.”
Cross was done talking, I could tell because the air around us changed. Sharpened. It was electrified as his expression turned serious and his hand began a slow journey up under my skirt, big and hot, leaving a trail of heat until he reached my core. “Fuck. You’re so hot.”
I laughed. “So are you. Scorching.”
He licked his lips, gaze fixed on mine until he closed his eyes and laid claim to my mouth in a kiss so hot, so fiery and so raw with obvious need that I couldn’t resist it if I tried. I could do nothing but arch into him, open myself to allow the invasion to be complete. And then—sweet goddess above—his fingers hooked inside my panties and slipped inside where I was wet and hungry for him. “Fuck. So fucking wet, Moon.”
“You do have that effect,” I told him, breathless with need and arching up into him because my body wanted everything he was offering. One finger teased me at first, slowly pumping into me but mostly teasing me until I moaned. “Tease.”
He laughed and pressed his lips to mine again, this time plunging two fingers deep, pumping into me while his thumb teased over my swollen clit. I swallowed his groan while my hips rolled against his hand, silently begging for more.
I didn’t know how long we stayed like that, making out and heavy petting like kids decades younger than us, but I relished it. I reveled in the way Cross made me feel, wanted and passionate and young. It was an intoxicating feeling that I couldn’t get enough of, not yet anyway. Not when he tore his lips from my mouth and slowly began a wickedly sensual form of torture all around my neck while his hands brought me close to the edge and backed off.
Once.
Twice.
And just when I was about to get angry at his teasing, Cross pushed me over the edge, pulling a low erotic moan from me. “Cross!” My chest heaved, and my overheated skin didn’t seem to recognize the chill in the air because the sun had set long ago.
“I love to hear you shout my name when you come apart.”
“Yeah? Well if you have a condom we can test that theory.” I wasn’t uptight about sex but given my living situation, I wasn’t careless either. Even though I couldn’t resist Cross, I knew I had to be careful.
“I don’t but that’s okay, it was just for you. I got exactly what I needed.”
I didn’t know what needed meant but there was no way in hell I’d let him leave unfulfilled after those intense words.
Chapter Seventeen
Cross
The one fucking night I was actually asleep, a call woke me in the middle of the damn night. “What?” I didn’t bother checking the screen because calls this time of night were never good news.
“Yo, Cross, we’re at the Stetson—”
“I’m fucking sleeping, Stitch,” I barked into the phone, now fully awake.
“Yeah, I figured but some guys and I were here, just to make our presence felt, ya know, and the police showed up. Trying to arrest Katrina.”
Shit. Katrina ran Stetson, our more upscale brothel where guys paid a fuck ton of money to fuck girls slightly prettier and in more expensive lingerie than Bungalow Three. “Fuck. I’m on my way. Tell Kat don’t say shit to them.” I ended the call and swung my legs off the bed, rubbing my eyes. I went to the bathroom to splash cold water on my face.
I had one call to make as I pushed out of the back entrance of the clubhouse and hopped on my bike.
“Tanya. Cops are at Stetson and I need you to scare the fuck out of them and keep Katrina from getting arrested.”
“Oh goody, I was starting to think you boys had forgotten about me. Meet you there.” She disconnected the call without further details but I knew better than to question Tanya. She was a badass. A total fucking ballbuster and I was happy as hell to have her on our team.
When I walked inside the brothel and saw Katrina in handcuffs with tears pooling in her big brown eyes, I saw red. Pure white-hot fucking rage surged through me at the sight of Dickhead Dodds standing there with a uni as green as a fucking meadow. I wanted to bash the fucker’s head in but I waited. No blood would be shed until Tanya showed up.
Dodds sneered, so fucking happy with himself. “Which of our girls are you enjoying the company of this evening, Dodds?” I stopped less than a foot from the little sniveling fucking piece of shit. “Don’t know if they told you but there are no dudes in here.”
“Real funny Cross. Won’t be so funny when I take your whores in for questioning.”
I tossed my head back and laughed. “And where exactly will you take them, Mayhem? Oh right, this isn’t Mayhem and therefore not your fucking jurisdiction.” I looked around. Where the fuck was Tanya? “I guess you boys want to give us some more of your operating money.”
“You fucking bikers think you run this shit. Well, you don’t.”
“Actually we run this business. This legitimate fucking business that helps pay the salary of bloated pigs like you.” I wanted him to give me a reason. This fucker would be worth the jail time.
Just then I heard the sound of high heels clacking against the wooden floor, but the sound came from the rear of the building.
“Ah, there you are.” Tanya breezed in, her normally bone straight hair was curled into a bun at her neck but that was the only concession she’d made to the late hour, looking crisp in a red dress and matching jacket. “So what’s going on here, Officer?”
The uniformed officer slid a wary gaze to Dodds, unsure what to say or do, which said everything I needed to know about who’d started this shit.
Luckily my high priced mouthpiece stepped in before I knocked his teeth out. “Tsk, tsk Detective. You were very naughty, being a bad boy and attempting to operate outside your jurisdiction. What a pity since we filed the formal complaint yesterday.”
Tanya tapped her chin, deep in fake thought while her black nails, tipped with diamonds, were on full display.
“Sounds like retaliation. Maybe even malicious prosecution.”
That’s why we always paid Tanya. Always. She relished taking down assholes like Dodds. Just like I expected, Dodds stepped forward but the move wasn’t well thought out because he now had to look up at Tanya.
“Your madame here failed to get a minor’s identification,” he insisted.
Tanya smiled that predatory smile of a woman before she rips a man’s nuts off and shoved them down his throat.
“Is that the story you want to go with? Both of you?” she asked again and looked to the uniform who was now visibly swe
ating.
“That’s what happened,” Dodds insisted with more force than certainty.
Tanya turned to Katrina with a sympathetic smile. “It’s up to you Kat. Do you want to spend a night downtown and make a shit load of taxpayer money for wrongful arrest or do you want to sleep in your big comfy bed tonight?”
Katrina blinked and looked to me for guidance. “It’s up to you, sweetheart,” I said.
She nodded and swiped her tears. “I’d prefer to sleep in my own bed,” she answered quietly.
“Excellent choice, Katrina. Why choose one when you can have both?”
She winked and turned back to the cops.
“This is the alleged underage customer you’re speaking of, I assume?” She handed him a large print out of the Nevada license with a triumphant smile. “See, everyone’s ID gets scanned before they walk through the front doors. Including one Melvin Duane Dodds. Such an unfortunate name,” she said and held an identical photo with his license up for inspection.
“Give me that!” He took a step forward and to her credit, Tanya didn’t budge as she let the photo fall to the floor. “I can arrest you for attempting to blackmail an officer.”
“You can try, Melvin, but we both know you’d lose and I’d own your crappy little bungalow and fifteen year old car. Those handcuffs on Kat right there constitute kidnapping since you have no legal authority in this town. In fact, I’ll get my paralegals to start on the lawsuit right now.”
Dodds stood there, nostrils flaring and face turning a hilarious shade of pink as he flooded with embarrassment. But the man wasn’t as dumb as he looked and knew when to cut his losses. “This isn’t over.”
“Oh, not by a long shot, Melvin. We’re just getting started,” Tanya promised. “And don’t forget to take your handcuffs or I’ll be forced, as an officer of the court, to speak to your superior officer about this.” How she managed to sound sweet as apple pie while issuing a threat I’d never know, but it was damned impressive.
“I have every right to investigate a crime,” he grumbled as he yanked the cuffs from Katrina’s wrists.