“Are you alright?” he asked after he had made two turns and was out of the area.
“Si, I am not hurt,” she told him.
“Want to sit up here in front?”
“Okay,” she said with a smile. She climbed up into the passenger seat and buckled in. “I never get to sit up here. The guards always sit up here. I like this much better.”
They were out of El Cajon and nearly to Lakeside when she said, “Now that I am a rich widow, perhaps you could marry me. Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“That would be very nice, Sibel, but unfortunately I have given my heart to someone else and I am unavailable.”
“That is too bad,” she pouted.
“Yes, but you are a rich widow, so handsome men are going to be at your door in no time.”
“Handsome men are already at my door because I am grandfather’s favorite. None of them impress me, though,” she sighed. “Besides, do not tell my grandfather, but I think I am a gay.”
“Why do you think that?”
“I did not like the sex with Orlin at all.”
“Did he touch you yesterday?”
“No, no, he said not until after the wedding, but I wasn’t looking forward to that either.”
“I don’t think you should measure his taking of you last time as real sex. You may find it much more pleasant with someone you wish to sleep with.”
“Si?”
“I would at least wait for better information,” he suggested.
“Hmm, okay. Grandfather would not be happy if I was a gay. So, I will take your advice,” she decided.
Hank smiled and put his phone into the handsfree setup the Hummer had on the dash. He dialed Rivera.
“Bueno?”
“I have your granddaughter with me. If you give me an address in Tijuana to take her to, I would be happy to deliver her. And by the way, it appears that she is a rich widow now with a hacienda in El Cajon and two houses on the coast.”
“No,” Rivera said, and then what could only be the sound of a gunshot came through the speakers. “Now she is a rich widow. I can’t thank you enough, Hank. You have truly been a blessing to me. I will give you an address. And by the way, you are free and clear of any reprisals. All of the lieutenants are accounted for.”
Hank put the address into the GPS system. He continued to Lakeside to drop off his spoils before he headed south to Mexico. Explaining all of the cash and other items to the Border Patrol on the way back would be difficult.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Cynthia woke to Hank’s ringtone at four in the morning.
“Yes? Hank?”
“Where are you?”
“Spending the night with James. Where are you?”
“About to come up to the house. After that, I’m going to Mexico to drop off a young lady named Sibel, who was kidnapped and wants to go home.”
“Oh. Um, speaking of the house, we had some visitors yesterday.”
“I heard, and last I heard they were all dead.”
Cyn bit her lip. “Yes, all dead. But the house is, well … I had to use the hand grenade in the nightstand at the bottom of the stairs, so watch for the hole in the floor there, and I had to fire an Uzi through the bathroom wall into the stairwell. Also, the concussion grenades I took off the bad guys and set off on the patio broke just about every dish you own and most of the widows and — stop laughing, James, this is serious — anyway, Hank, it’s a mess. Oh, and all the guns laid out on the bed are mine. So is the cash and jewelry on the pool table.”
“So, to sum up,” Hank said, “you wrecked my house and spent the night with another man.”
“Ah, after having sex with a woman this morning, yes,” she added.
“I see. And how are you going to make this up to me?”
“I was thinking of the same thing you got Wednesday night, only with more enthusiasm on my part.”
“I’m on speakerphone dear,” Hank interrupted, and Cyn heard the sound of girlish giggles. “But yes, that sounds very inviting, if all parties are willing.”
“I’m sure they are, but I’ll check and get back to you.”
They said goodbye. She broke the connection and then slapped James on the arm. “Shut up! Can we go yet?”
“You and Daphne are having sex?”
“Yes,” she sighed, “but if you tell anyone, I’ll poke your amazingly sexy ass with a pin and not even feel bad about it at all.”
“Mum’s the word,” James said. “And yes, I think we can sneak out of here now, or at least give it a try.”
He used the night vision goggles to head down the trail again, onto the main fire road, and then out to the highway, where he took them off and turned on the lights. Cyn called Knight and told him they were almost there.
Knight and Boston were waiting. She gave them both a hug, and then loaded her new toys into the Hummer before getting in.
“Wow, twenty-four hours and I’ve gone from freelance editor to fucking Rambo,” she said to Boston as she jumped into the passenger seat. Knight had already chosen to sit in back with James.
“Any word from Hank?” Knight asked.
“Yes, and all good words,” Cyn told him. “He made a date with me tonight at his house, so maybe it’s even better than we hoped for, since he doesn’t feel like he needs to bug out today.”
“That sounds very hopeful, yes,” Knight agreed. “Where is he now?”
“On his way to Mexico to drop off a girl who was kidnapped. I don’t know the whole story on that, but apparently it is highly important,” Cyn told him.
“Well, with border crossing traffic, he probably won’t be back until noon, then, so tell him that we’ll get together tomorrow to debrief and figure out our next steps,” Knight told her.
“Will do,” Cyn said. “Boston? Could you drop me off at Daphne’s place? I want to check in on her and relieve Sally.”
“Don’t see a problem with that,” Boston agreed. “Do you think she’ll want to go for a ride on Saturday?”
“Yes, Boston, I do. And I think you should take off the kid gloves with her. She’s a big girl,” Cyn told him.
“Well, she’s been through a lot—”
“Yes, she has. Hence the big girl title. She can take it. I think you should take her for a ride straight to your place and carry her over the threshold and straight into your bedroom,” Cyn told him.
“And from Rambo to Dr. Ruth,” Knight laughed.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Cyn would always recall that day as the day she was nearly sexed to death in twenty-four hours.
Daphne, finding her sleeping beside her when she woke up, had her way with Cyn for nearly two hours. After that, they had breakfast and went to Hank’s house.
Erik was there. He had replaced all the broken windows and was looking over the rest of the damage. He left about an hour later while they were in the bath together.
Hank came home about an hour after that, and then he and Daphne had their way with her for another two hours.
They had to go out to dinner, because there were no dishes in the kitchen any longer except for one coffee mug that said, I love Mondays, which Hank was far too happy about (in Cyn’s opinion).
After dinner, they made it through half of a DVD sitting on the couch before both she and Daphne were undressed and sharing Hank’s cock in a deep throating contest.
Hank then took them upstairs for a three-hour session, which was prolonged because he tied them both to the same bedpost and then massaged their asses and thighs with his large hands and coconut oil until both of them were offering all sorts of pleasures and servitudes.
Cyn’s offer to go down on Daphne for his viewing pleasure won out, which she did, willingly, while Daphne was still tied to the bedpost. As soon as Daphne was writhing in orgasmic joy, Hank fucked Cyn to a wild orgasm from behind while she lay on Daphne with her face buried in her breasts.
In the morning, Hank fucked them both slowly and lovingly, one after the other, cli
maxing with Cyn. Then Cyn, while Hank went for a shower, gave Daphne her fantasy of real, honest, loving lesbian sex with her for nearly an hour.
“Boston wants to take you for a ride today,” she told Daphne as they cuddled together afterward.
“I really like him. He’s a good man. I know most girls go for the bad boys, but I’ve been with a bad boy, and it wasn’t much fun after awhile. I think Boston will be good to me, and I would try to be very good to him, if he would let me.”
“I told him to take you for a ride to his house and then take you to bed,” Cyn told her.
“You did?”
“Yes,” Cyn admitted.
“You think I’m that kind of girl?” Daphne asked.
“I think you are for Boston, yes,” Cyn told her.
“Oh, well, that’s true,” Daphne agreed.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Five Years Later
The metric ton of cocaine filled the coffers of the club to bursting. Hank was offered the million that Knight promised, but he refused such a large amount since he had come away with a large sum on his own and there was no need for him to go into hiding. So, Knight gave it to Cyn, who kept this fact hidden from Hank until their honeymoon in Hawaii, when she admitted to having half a million.
Knight also gave half a million to Daphne, who accepted it shyly and kept this information from her new husband Kent “Boston” McGregor until after little Henry was born a year after their marriage, when she admitted to having a quarter of a million.
***
“It’s a nesting thing, Boston,” Hank told him as they played with trucks and cars on the living room floor with three-year-old Henry. “I’ll bet both of them have even more hidden away somewhere that they won’t admit to until a need for it arises.”
“I’m not mad or anything about it. I just wonder why she didn’t trust me, that’s all,” Boston told him.
“It’s not really a matter of trust; it’s more like instinct.”
“So, you’re just fine with it.”
“Didn’t say that. But there’s no point in making more of it than it is.”
“So when Cyn gets pregnant, you think she’ll suddenly pop out with another nest egg,” Boston surmised.
“Not sure that’s going to happen. She loves being Aunt Cyn, and babysitting, and even having Henry over for the weekends so you two can get in some riding time together, but she doesn’t seem to have any maternal need to spawn.”
Cyn popped in from the kitchen with, “Did you just say spawn? Is that how you think of it? Well, you’re right! I don’t have any desire to spawn for you, Neanderthal man!”
“Told you they were listening. Pay up, Boston.”
“Fuck, how do you know all this shit,” Boston gripped, and he dug out a twenty.
THE END
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Devil's Kiss
Prologue
Bathed in sweat, Cain Rodgers wiped at his face as he stopped thrusting and tried to catch his breath. He was balls deep inside the bartender that he had picked up, and she was wearing him out. He had already come twice, but she wasn’t finished with him yet and hadn’t let him stop the marathon fuck.
He was in New Orleans on business and had stopped by The Cat’s Claw for a little liquid refreshment and some company. The Claw wasn’t a brothel, but it was well known that the wait staff could be very accommodating for the right amount of green. He had wanted to enjoy the rewards for another shipment successfully received and sent on its way to Dallas.
Cain was the broker for the Hellhounds Motorcycle Club. He put together their deals and made sure everything ran smoothly. He was good at his job… very good. Since he had taken over, their sales were up over three-hundred percent and the club was making good money, and his slice of the pie allowed him to indulge in certain… pleasures.
“Don’t stop!” the bitch murmured as she rocked on her hands and knees, working her ass in a way that made him gasp and twist with pleasure.
She wasn’t a loud fuck, a soft moan was about the most he was able to get out of her, but she was insatiable. She had caught his eye as she worked behind the bar, doing all the fancy flips and tricks that a good flair-tender could do. But she didn’t look like most flair-tenders he had seen, with her porn star body and the face of an angel framed by a mass of dark curls. There was something about her that had captivated him and he had spent most of the night sitting at the bar, watching her run through her routines while he downed shots and slipped her twenties to keep her attention.
He rolled to his back, pulling her over with him, his cock never leaving the warm confines of her pussy. After nearly two hours of hard fucking, he was winded and ready to let her do the work for a while. Almost as soon as they were still, she began to bounce on him, the muscles in her strong shapely legs flexing and straining with effort. Her back was to him, but he had seen her all-natural tits swinging and bouncing from a similar position before, and thinking about how they sloshed and jiggled along with her breathy pants was heating him up again. As she panted, squirmed, and bounced, he pushed his hair out of his eyes and wiped the sweat on her back. She was already so wet with sweat that she wouldn’t notice a little more.
“I’m going to come again,” she whispered as she leaned forward and increased the speed and power of her thrusts, bending his cock down toward his knees.
“Fuck,” he hissed as she began to clamp down on him, the tightness of her pussy causing his orgasm to begin to swell. Even though he was drunk off his ass, she was working him up to another ball-draining climax.
“Fuck me. Fuck me!” he growled, holding her ass, straining for his release as she slammed her hips into his.
Just as he felt his essence flow, he heard her gasp and she began to grind herself hard down onto him. The feel of her pressing herself down onto him, driving him as deep as possible into her, felt so good he that he arched his back, pushing up against her as he plumbed her depths with his cock.
“Fuck,” she sighed as she tumbled off of him and then turned and crawled up the bed to collapse in a heap against him. “I can’t remember the last time I came so many times. You were… wonderful.” She dragged herself up onto his chest and kissed him on the lips, a long wet kiss that would have made him steel hard in moments if he weren’t already completely drained.
“So were you…” he mumbled as he struggled to remember her name. All he could remember was that she said she was related to some old French actress he had never heard of, Sarah Bernhardt, but he couldn’t recall her first name.
Before the situation could become awkward, she drifted into sleep and he racked his brain for a few minutes and decided fuck it! He would never see her again anyway. It didn’t matter if he couldn’t remember her name. As shit-faced as he was, he felt lucky to remember her last name.
He wiped at his face again and sighed. He slapped around on the side table until he found his phone and then groaned when he saw the time — 4:13. Fuck… It had been worth it, but he had to be up and ready to ride in less than two hours.
Cain stumbled out of bed as he silenced the alarm on the phone. He had called on one of the tricks of the trade and stuck the phone under his pillow so it wouldn’t wake up the chick when it went off. With a near silent groan he staggered into the bathroom and quietly splashed water on his face. Even my fucking hair hurts he moaned to himself… and the sound of the water splashing in the sink felt like gnomes were driving spikes into his skull.
He dressed slowly, grimacing in pain from his throbbing head when he bent over to put on his boots. He slipped out of the room, shutting the door behind him with barely a click. Not only did he not want to wake the woman he was leaving alone in the bed, he was also afraid his brains would dribble out of his ears if he were to bang the door closed.
<
br /> He stood in the elevator, the little ding as the door closed making him want to punch something, and the sudden dropping motion made his stomach try to escape through his mouth. As the doors opened with another cheery ding that made him wince, her name came to him — Ally! No, that wasn’t it. Alice? No, that wasn’t it either. It was something like that, but what the fuck was it?
Outlaw's Wrath - An MC Brotherhood Romance Boxed Set Page 51