by Aaron Riley
We got dressed, watching each other closely. I wanted to trace every muscle of his body so I could commit it to memory. I wanted to undress him again and relive last night and this morning all over again.
“Time to go now, Connor.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied, doing a fake bow.
Alexander grinned and collected our things. The sun burned brightly as we exited the motel; Alexander's car was right where we left it. I remembered my first ride with the top down and the vibrations beneath my thighs—how it turned me on so much. But nothing turned me on more than Alexander touching my naked flesh.
I sat in the passenger seat and placed my hand on Alexander's thigh as he turned the key in the ignition. We weren't strangers anymore. Alexander was my boyfriend now.
I wanted to say it out loud just to make this was all real.
My heart jumped with glee. I was no longer a freak.
We drove off and I enjoyed the nice breeze and the feel of Alexander's hand in mine. I wanted to ride around town all day with him. But we stopped outside of my apartment complex.
“So this is where you live?” he asked.
“Yep, until school is over at least.”
“Any roommates?”
“I did but she moved back to the states at the end of last semester.”
“Why don't you invite me inside?” Alexander grinned.
The thought of Alexander taking me on every surface of my apartment was a tantalizing image but I shook my head. “I would but I know what would happen if we were alone again. I just have to work on my history paper for a little bit.” The words felt so idiotic the moment they came out of my mouth. I wanted him so badly.
“You sure you're not going to run away?”
“I can't, my car is still at the pub.”
Alexander smiled. “How about I have it delivered.”
“That would be perfect.”
Alexander leaned outside the car window and planted a kiss on me cheek. He put his sunglasses back on and started the Aston Martin. The thunderous roar of the engine vibrated in my chest. I waved and exhaled as he drove away.
I went into my apartment and everything looked foreign. I had only been away for a day but it felt like an eternity. I went to the kitchen and opened the fridge for something to eat—completely empty. I fixed myself a cup of tea instead and opened up my laptop to a blank Word document. I wanted to get down as much information as I could before I forgot. My notes from yesterday were pretty much useless.
Flashes of last night distracted me from my work. How could I get any work done when Alexander was the only thing on my mind? But now I had the perfect subject. I typed the title at the top of the page:
Prince Alexander
Chapter Twelve
Alexander
I rode back to the pub, thinking about my love for Connor. My entire existence was built around my brothers. It was who I was. But my feelings were changing. I no longer desired to be the bad boy rebel prince. If I could go somewhere safe with Connor and live the rest of my life in peace—no more bloodshed—then isn't that what I should do?
I found John, Hudson, and Bryce sitting around the meeting room table. Their faces were long but their eyes lit up when they spotted me. Bryce shook my hand as Hudson gave me a one-armed hug; a white shoulder-sling kept his arm close to his chest.
John stood up and gripped my biceps. “I'm glad you're okay, Alexander.”
“Me too,” I replied.
We sat down at our seats. Our family had become so small. I ached inside for the loss of Charlie. He was my closest brother. I'd never forget him for as long as I lived. But how could we break the news to my parents. They'd be heartbroken. Mum, would bury herself in liquor and Dad would bury himself in work.
I had to get revenge for Charlie. I had to make sure the family was whole before I got out.
John sighed. “We all want the Russians to bloody pay but we need to think this through. We're hanging on by a string here. If we went against the Russians now, we'd all end up in body bags. As of right now, all the Russians involved in that deal are dead. Give me a chance to talk with some of the higher-ups in their organization. For all we know, Boris was doing this alone. Once I get more information, we can make an informed decision.”
The one thing I wanted in the world—revenge—was finally within my grasp. But I didn't feel complete. Not without Connor by my side.
Chapter Thirteen
Connor
My paper was nowhere close to being started. There wasn't much information about Prince Alexander on the internet. His brother John was next in line of succession. What was I supposed to write about? I was close to asking the professor for advice.
My mind was completely distracted.
But I hadn't seen him in weeks. I tried to get a hold of him at pub but John told me he was really busy. I tried to call him at his house but I had no idea where he lived. The internet didn't give me anything.
What if I was just another one of his conquests?
There was just so much that happened to me over the past couple weeks.
But he was the right one for me. I knew it deep down in the pit of my stomach.
I needed to focus on my paper. All I had was a title that didn't say much. What did I want to covey? I didn't want to just recite his whole family history.
The family aspect was the key.
The words flowed through my fingers and into the computer. I wrote and wrote until my wrists began to cramp up.
Outside the booming engine of a vintage Aston Martin approached. I saved the document and slammed the laptop shut. My paper would have to wait...
Alexander was here.
I checked my hair in the mirror and brushed it quickly.
The doorbell rang and I tried to still my pounding heart. I opened the door, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers. Alexander's eyes went wide.
Alexander finally smiled and stopped me before I could say anything. “You better invite me in before I take you right here in the hallway.”
I grabbed Alexander's arm and pulled him inside. His mouth latched onto mine while his hands wandered underneath over my boxers.
“I love you...my prince,” he whispered to me.
“I love you too, Alexander.”
This rough and hard man was all mine.
And I was his to do with as he desired.
We would be a royal family soon enough.
The End
Chase
Copyright 2018
All Rights Reserved.
Disclaimer: This ebook is a work of fiction. Any resemblance characters in this story may have to real people is coincidental.
No section of this book may be copied or reproduced without the author's permission.
Description
Christopher
I was on the hunt of a serial killer of women and the trail led me back to my hometown. I didn't mean to fall in love. I was looking for any clues and that brought me to the Eight of Spades Bar.
Joshua Kent was just like any other biker I'd ever met: trashy, full of himself, and a criminal. We barely talked before he kissed me. But I wasn't that easy.
And more importantly, I had a case to solve. But Joshua knew this underworld better than I could ever know. I needed his help no matter how much I wanted to punch him in the face.
Joshua
Christopher walked into my bar and he wasn't like anything I'd ever seen before. He didn't belong here with his nice clothes and entitled attitude. He was a challenge. A mountain to conquer.
Nothing would stop me. Not even the fact that he was a cop.
I'd help him find the killer and make Christopher mine in the process.
Chase
Chapter One
Christopher Taylor ran through the hallway of FBI headquarters. He rounded a corner and bumped into another agent. A pile papers flew into the air.
“Sorry!” Christopher yelled as he ran from the scene, dress shoes clacking on the polished
floor. He was late yet again for another meeting with his superiors and nothing was going to stop him.
Christopher made it to Room 301 and took in a deep breath at the closed door. He brushed his disheveled hair as best he could and opened it.
Four old men with varying degrees of baldness sat around a round oak table. It reminded him a little of King Arthur and his knights. A mug of coffee sat next to each man. Christopher smelled the brew in the air and wished he had time to go to the break room and get a cup.
“Nice of you to finally join us, Mr. Taylor,” Agent Brand said.
Christopher didn't even have a good excuse this time. There was no traffic, he didn't oversleep, nor did he lose his car keys. He just lost track of time. It was best not to apologize and just move on.
He sat down and his chair creaked as he took out paper and pen from his briefcase.
Agent Brand looked to the other old men and nodded. “We can begin now. I called this meeting this morning to go over the recent murders in Jimstown, Arizona.”
Christopher perked up. Jimstown is where he grew up.
Agent Brand continued, “The sheriff over there have sent us all the files and we believe there is an active serial killer there.”
One of the old men took a sip of coffee. “What's the rundown?”
“So far we have four murders of women all in their early twenties.” Brand hit the lights and the room went dark.
Christopher could barely see now as he furiously wrote down notes. The projector in the room flicked onto the white screen.
A picture of a young woman with short blonde hair popped up. She was clearly dead. The photo most likely taken in the morgue. “First murder was Teresa Cullen on June 25. Student at the community college.”
Christopher hadn't been to Jimstown in years, ever since he left for Quantico. The community college was being built and had only opened just two years ago.
Brand put the next photo on the projector. “Second was Jane Warner. Four days later on June 29. Another student at the community college.”
Agent Brand showed them two more victims. They looked very similar and died only a few days apart.
Christopher tried to sear their images into his mind. He wrote down their names and circled college on his notepad. Each victim was a student. The next one would likely be the same.
One of the old men coughed. “How are they being killed?”
Brand put up another picture on the projector. This was a closeup of the neck of the first victim. A gruesome red slash was painted across her neck. “The killer used a knife to make one single slice across the victim's neck.”
The projector showed a photo of a long knife with a black hilt sitting on the pavement with a ruler next to it to indicate its size. “A knife was left at every crime scene. No prints or DNA evidence was left behind.”
Christopher put his pen up and Brand stopped talking. “Were the knives left at the scenes all the same type?”
Agent Brand nodded and showed pictures of the knives from each crime scene. “Our experts tell me this is a fairly common knife that could be found at any pawn shop.”
“Any evidence of sexual contact?” another agent asked.
Brand shook his head. “None that the local police were able to find. The motive is still unknown.”
Christopher's notepad filled up quickly with scribbles all over his paper.
Brand turned to Christopher. “Since you have ties to that town, we'd like you to head the investigation with the local police.”
Christopher was speechless. He'd never headed an investigation before. He knew they weren't picking him for his talent though. They needed someone who knew the area. And someone who would follow protocol.
Brand interrupted his train of thought. “Christopher, will you take the job?”
He blinked once and realized he'd been staring off into space. “Yes, of course I'll take the position.”
Brand flicked off the projector and turned on the lights. He passed a file folder across the table. “Everything you need to know about the case is in that. Along with a flight to Arizona. Any questions?”
Christopher opened up the file and saw the same photos of the victims. There was also a plane ticket for tomorrow morning. The FBI wasn't known for being patient.
“I think I got everything.”
“Good. Let us know if you need any help when you get there. Agent Vargus is here if you need backup.”
Christopher cringed at the name. Vargus had been in his graduating class at Quantico and used every chance to hit on him. He was a complete tool. It would take a lot for Christopher to have to ask for his help.
“Don't worry, sir. I'll find this killer.”
Brand clasped his hand. “Good luck out there.”
The rest of the old men stood up as Christopher left the office. He couldn't help but smile.
He was finally moving up to the big leagues.
But there was a knot in his stomach. He'd have to solve these crimes all by himself.
And Christopher didn't know if he was ready for that.
Chapter Two
Joshua Kent sat at a large table made from reclaimed wood. The members of the Dog Soldiers MC sat around discussing the current events that were affecting the club.
“And what are we going to do about the guns with the Devil Hearts MC?” Cameron Danver, the treasurer asked.
Cameron was the brains of the operation. He'd been with the MC for ten years now, working the books, making sure that the club had enough money to operate. Every member understood that without Cameron, the Dog Soldiers wouldn't even exist.
“Fuck those Irish bastards. We shouldn't even be talking to them, let alone selling them weapons just so they could kill us later,” Joshua said.
Flash York put his hands up to settle the table down. He was the president of the Dog Soldiers and had been for fifteen years, making him the oldest member. “I know the Irish MC aren't exactly our allies. But let us not forget that we're sitting on crates and crates of unsold guns. The Mexicans don't want them. The other chapters don't want them either.”
Cameron nodded. “He's right. Our money is extremely tight right now. If we can unload the guns, that would greatly help the club.”
Gunner Vallen, the vice president, leaned forward in his seat. “This club is going to need more than just money. We are in need of new members. We lost our sgt-at-arms last year and Wilder is going to be in prison for God knows how long.”
The entire table looked down to the end at the new prospect, Jett Rockwell. He was the only one in the last few years who had taken an interest in joining.
“I call for a vote on selling guns to the Devil Hearts MC,” Flash began, “All in favor?”
Gunner said, “Aye.”
Cameron echoed the same.
They all looked at Joshua. He clenched his hand into a fist and slammed it on the table. He wanted nothing to do with the Irish. But he couldn't go against the club. “Aye,” he said.
Flash ignored the prospect who didn't have voting rights yet. “I vote the same.” He banged the wooden gavel onto the table. “It's settled then. I'll reach out to Aiden at the Devil Hearts and set up a deal.”
Joshua exhaled sharply. He knew that this could go very wrong. The Devil Hearts couldn't be trusted. They had been hated enemies for years.
But he was only a member. It would've done nothing to vote against the group.
“We have some other matters to attend now,” Flash said, looking to Gunner.
Gunner had a big smile on his face. His cheeks were flushed from a little too much booze too early in the morning. Gunner had a problem but nobody wanted to admit it. Least of all Gunner. “We've been in need of a sgt-in-arms and I think we can all agree that we found our next one.”
Flash threw something across the table at Joshua. He picked it up and flipped it over to see the sgt-at-arms patch.
“Are you bullshitting me?” Joshua asked.
“We wouldn't bullsh
it about this,” Flash replied. He took a long hunting knife out of his belt. The silver blade was attached to a worn black hilt. “The Dog Soldiers MC are promoting you to sgt-at arms.” He opened his palm and sliced the knife across the skin, leaving a trail of red. Blood trickled down onto the wood table as he closed his fist and squeezed.