by A. J. Downey
My baby was indeed parked in the shade of a couple of palms in the front of the house, off to the side. The place was a two story monstrosity with wide stone steps out front and by the looks of things, sat right on the beach. We were a bit far out from town for a normal person to walk it but I wasn’t your average Joe, plus I had my bike. They didn’t know about the hidden key.
“So you leaving me here by myself?” I asked, not quite believing that I wasn’t some kind of prisoner or something. Not like they could hold me if they wanted to. I was pretty sure out of all of them that Cutter was the only one that could give me a run for my money. The rest could probably hold their own against anyone else, I was just far too trained for them to handle me one on one… Two on one might even be a stretch for them to be honest. It took Cutter to bring me down the night before and I was still deliciously sore from how that’d turned out. I still had some mixed feelings about that, but for now the good outweighed the bad.
“Sweetheart, look at me?” he said softly and I did because he asked and because he was treating me with more respect than I probably deserved. His eyes were a brown with deeper flecks of bronze to them. Lighter than mine but no less deep. He invaded my personal space so beautifully and brought his forehead down to mine while his boys looked on from a short distance away.
“You’re not a prisoner, not like we could hold you if you got determined anyways and I don’t want to see any of my guys hurt. Likewise, I don’t want to see you hurt either but things have gotta happen in a certain order here, you feel me?” he asked. I nodded, mouth suddenly inoperable due to his proximity. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted to disappear into Cutter’s arms and never come up for air again. I wanted to forget, briefly, like he’d made me forget last night. Faith…
I closed my eyes and breathed out and somehow knew that he knew. He wrapped me up in his embrace and hugged me as I nodded my understanding even though I didn’t get it, I understood protocol and apparently his merry band of misfits had protocols in spades.
“Gimme a few hours, I’ll come back here and we’ll talk, figure out our next move. Okay?”
Our next move… I liked the sound of that. It was the sound of not being alone anymore and as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I was tired. Really tired of carrying this fucked up burden all by myself. But it was my cross to bear, no one else’s.
“Why are you helping me?” I asked and leveled him with a steady gaze.
“I’m not a bad dude, Baby. Maybe I wanna prove that to you,” he murmured. I scoffed a little.
“You don’t give a fuck what people think,” I stated judiciously.
“Maybe not, Darlin’ but for some reason, I care about what you think,” he winked at me and slipped from my grasp taking a step back. His buddies looks of mistrust were burning me up where I stood and I felt a little bad about that, but not bad enough to really care all that much. After all, one or some of these assholes killed my only lead, even though from what the Dani girl had said, she wasn’t someone really to be mourned over which was its own particular kind of awful and sad when you thought about it.
“Just do whatever you have to do and get your ass back here,” I grumbled.
Cutter laughed, “Yes ma’am!” he shot me a smart salute and got back on his bike. I watched them leave and went into the house.
It was cool inside, the air conditioning running strong and a welcome respite from the oppressive heat and humidity outside. I set myself to exploring, mostly in an effort to track down my belongings. I found them in the master suite upstairs. They’d just shoved everything in a giant ass cardboard box and put it on the bed. It was all here though. Clean, dirty, didn’t matter, it was just in one giant jumble, my few paper files and tablet on the bottom under my emptied backpack and riding boots.
I sighed and spent the next thirty minutes sorting everything out. Once everything was in neat little OCD piles, I put all my dirty clothes back into the box a la laundry basket, and started a hunt for a washer and dryer. Might as well get something accomplished if I was going to be waiting for hours.
I stripped out of the god awful, oversized dress meant for someone with actual tits and dropped it in with the rest of my shit. I had two loads to do, both small but one was reserved for my delicate clothing of which I had plenty. Delicate material took up a whole lot less room in a pack and when you lived off the back of a bike like I had been doing, the more delicate the material, the more of a wardrobe you could carry.
I had a storage unit in Cali that had my cold weather gear and furniture and such in it, but it had been a minute since I’d needed any of it. One of the joys of working for yourself was choosing where to go when. I hated the cold. I worshiped the day star passionately, and stuck to warm, sunny climates as much as I could.
I returned to the master suite bare assed and didn’t even care. I mean I was here alone, so fuck it, right? I sat down heavily on the bed and powered up my phone and tablet and went through them. I had to hand it to The Kraken, for being a bunch of seemingly low-brow Neanderthal biker thugs, they were thorough. They’d been through all my shit backwards and forwards. Surprisingly I didn’t care about that so much. All they found was what I’d been telling Cutter this entire time.
I was looking for Tonya Anon in hopes that she would lead me to my sister. I really could give two fucks about what these happy bastards were into. They didn’t need to know that I knew about a few of their extracurricular activities. I mean seriously, who gave a shit about Cuban cigars and bootlegging moonshine? I’m sure they were in to more than just that, they were playing their cards too close to the vest, but from everything I could tell? They didn’t do guns, they didn’t do sex workers, and they didn’t do hardcore drugs. Compared to most other motorcycle gangs, these guys were pious little angels. I had to smile on the inside, because compared to most women, I was better trained and smarter than carrying the information I had on them anywhere other than in my brain.
I finished taking stock of everything and was pretty surprised to find that everything, including my fully loaded Ruger, was accounted for. Only thing missing was a wayward eyeliner pencil which upon further digging, I found in the bottom of my purse.
“What is your guys’ deal?” I muttered under my breath. The short answer? They didn’t see me as a threat, and they were right, I wasn’t. Everything about their behavior up to this point screamed that they were trying to cover their ass and protect their own and I could appreciate that. Wasn’t that exactly what I was doing when it came to Faith and Charity?
Charity… it’d been a few days since I last checked in. I picked up my phone which had three percent battery and plugged it in. I rooted around for my toiletries and decided on a proper shower. I’d wanted to catch them off guard earlier so I’d just done a quick rinse.
I spent a long while under the spray of the bigger house shower and let the massaging showerhead beat my sore muscles into submission. I let my mind drift and sighed out when it invariably ended up on the more intimate moments of the night before. Cutter was quite possibly the most amazing lover I had ever been with and I would be a fucking liar if I said I didn’t want more. I lightly banged my forehead against the shower wall.
I fucking hated this shit. Feeling all over the map and out of control was so not my usual thing. I needed to get my shit together and fast. I shut off the tap and dried off, wrapping a towel around me. I looked around and jackpot, found a hair dryer. Most hotels and B&B’s had them. Score that this place had one too. I dried my hair, found some clean clothes, grateful that I was washing. I was seriously scraping the bottom of the barrel when it came to wearable outfits.
I switched the laundry and got the second load going and by the time I got back to the master suite my phone had enough of a charge to call my littlest sister. It rang, and rang, and rang and rang before kicking over to voicemail. I groaned just before it beeped.
“Blossom! It’s Buttercup, call me back,” I sighed loudly, “I’m still in Florida and I’m
on to a different lead, I’ll fill you in later. Love you, bye.” I hung up and tossed the phone, charging cable still solid, onto the nightstand. I scrubbed my makeup free face with my hands and spent my time whiling away the next few hours finishing up my laundry and scouring my files for any mention of an ‘Ivan’ anywhere and going over everything New Orleans related.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” I exclaimed and flopped back onto the bed when I came up empty on both fronts.
“Thought you had enough but I’m certainly willing to oblige.”
Cutter crossed the carpet, and flopped down on the bed beside me, propping his head on his arms. I turned my head and looked at him huffing out a loud exaggerated breath.
“You look like you’ve had a hell of a day,” I said dryly. He shrugged laconically and reached an arm across my middle.
“Could have been worse. House is clean, we took out the trash, doesn’t get the dirt out of our souls though,” I searched his face and nodded slowly.
“I’m sorry,” I said and I was, whatever he’d been out doing had obviously taken a toll on him and his.
“How about you?” he asked.
“Been over everything, twice. Nothing. Not a God damned thing points to anybody named Ivan,” I scrubbed my face with my hands again and Cutter slipped his hand beneath the hem of my tee, giving us skin on skin contact. His hand was warm in the air conditioned coolness of the house and I couldn’t tell him how much I relished the skin on skin contact.
“Where do we go from here?” I asked.
“Depends, Darlin’. What context? You talkin’ about you and me or you talking about the search for your girl?” he asked.
“Both, really…”
“Well, I think both of us need to eat some food, take a deep breath, and figure it out a moment at a time. I want to help you. I promised you I would help you and I meant it. I like you, Hope. You’re sassy and give me a run for my money. I think I’ve needed that,” he gave me that panty scorching grin of his and I felt an answering throb in my cunt. Damn it. Wasn’t fair how fucking sexy he was.
“Something to eat sounds good,” I conceded.
“The way you’re looking at me, Sweetheart, I should probably say I’m not on the menu…” he said but we were both drawing nearer to one another.
“Sure about that, Slick?”
“Nope, not at all,” and we kissed. My blood caught fire and my hands gripped his face between them of their own volition. Then it was a whole lot of me pushing his leather vest off his shoulders and scrambling at the catch on his jeans, which is about when it struck me, he was wearing jeans and heavy boots, not exactly beach gear. I put it from my mind as we worked each other out of our clothes.
Everything of mine had been neatly put away in my pack, which I just about always had my gear stowed at a moment’s notice, in case I had to bounce. My tablet and phone were both plugged in and chilling on the nightstand, my purse and my paper files ended up sloshing to the floor in our heated frenzy to get naked. I pushed him back into the bed and straddled his hips, lowering myself onto him.
Oh my God he felt amazing. He looked up at me with lust filled eyes and pressed his thumb against my lips, I sucked his thumb into my mouth, biting it gently as I ground down onto his cock. He was seated in me as deep as he could go and I fucking loved it. He let me have my way, didn’t order me to ride him harder or faster, but rather just took his time and let me do what I wanted. I liked that, I liked that a lot, that he was secure enough to let me have control this time around.
“Make me come,” I ordered him and he smiled with savagery. He drew his thumb away from my mouth and used my own saliva as lube to tease my clit. Fuck he was hot.
I threw my head back, my hair grazing the tops of his thighs and I listened to him suck in a sharp breath. I rolled my hips and watched his eyes drift shut, as he concentrated, his head tilting as if listening to music only he could hear.
“Fuck yeah, Baby, like that – just like that…” he breathed and I squeezed down on him. I loved that I could do this, make him feel good, make me feel good, it’d been too damned long. What’s more, back then, it’d just been sex… I couldn’t deny that whatever we were doing, last night or today, that it was definitely something more than just sex. There was weight and emotion behind joining with Cutter, I just was hesitant to put any labels onto something so new.
“Oh God yeah, right there, mmhmm!” I encouraged when he stroked my clit just right. I clamped down on his cock with my pussy just a little bit harder and bent forward to claim his mouth in a kiss. His free hand tangled in my hair, holding it gently back from our faces as we made out and I spiraled that much higher, coiled that much tighter. I couldn’t exactly kiss him and ride him at the same time so he picked up my slack with some controlled and steady thrusting as he did what I commanded and made me come.
I splintered apart, gently at first, but the orgasm was like a freight train, lumbering into view, until suddenly it was just there, blasting past you, blowing through you, until with an inarticulate cry into Cutter’s mouth and a jerk of my hips he knew he’d completed his task. Too much, too sensitive, he removed his thumb and took his hand from my hair and gripping my hips held me in place so he could fuck me and take his own satisfaction.
As far as that went, it didn’t take too long for him to come either. The sex of today, as compared to last night ended up being a quickie and I think we were both alright with that because as I lay panting across his chest, both of our stomachs growled in unison.
We laughed and he swatted me playfully and painlessly on the ass to get up. I reared up and shivered with delight as he slipped from me, when I looked again he was looking up the length of my body in wonder.
“Come down here and kiss me one more time?” he asked softly. I bent at the waist and complied, placing my lips gently against his.
“God you’re gorgeous,” he breathed against my mouth and his words gave me a rush of pleasure.
“Thank you, you’re not half bad yourself,” I said, voice husky.
“Come on, let me treat you to some dinner and we’ll figure out where to go from there,” he murmured.
“Sounds good,” I breathed.
It did, it really did…
Chapter 14
Cutter
Tiny was gator food. It had to happen. He’d betrayed us, put our entire club at Hope’s mercy and that was just fucking unacceptable. We’d tried, man. Treated him like a brother far longer than he’d deserved to be one, and after last night, it had been no surprise that it’d been a unanimous vote for Tiny to meet Davey Jones up close and personal.
I looked Hope over as she typed into the fancy tablet she owned. She was in my shirt and nothing else while I stood in just my jeans and cut in the kitchen preparing us a meal. She was beautiful, despite the slight frown of concentration marring her face.
“What’re you doing?” I asked softly, she smiled, a gentle curve of her luscious mouth and answered me without looking up at me.
“Why do you need to ask me? Your boys will tell you soon enough, or did you think I would miss the tracking software ghosting everything I typed?” She leveled me with a clear and steady look that said nothing and everything.
“Clever girl,” I said and checked the fish under the broiler.
“It’s cool, I get it,” she said softly and I believed that she did, “No lies, no half-truths Cutter. I just want to find my little sister.”
“I know Baby, and I really want to help you find her.”
“But?” she asked.
“No buts, I want to help you find her, I just want to make sure my club, my brothers are safe too,” she gripped the seat of her chair between those long legs of hers and leaned forward.
“Cuban cigars, moonshine and what else?” she asked softly. I froze and cocked my head to the side. Moment of truth, it seemed she knew some things. I didn’t know how or from where but if she held some truths… Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“I want to
tell you but it goes against our code, Darlin’, nothin’ heavy. I can tell you that much. We don’t traffic in girls, or hard drugs. Me and my boys are clean from any of the really dirty shit. Next school shooting you see on the news, I can confidently say me and my boys had no hand in it. You get me?” She searched my face and nodded carefully.
“I get you,” she said solemnly, “And I’m sorry I pointed a gun in your face.”
“They give it back to you?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Good, point it at me again it won’t be just me fucking you and it won’t be just your pussy,” I told her and let that sink in.
“Right,” she said with a frown, I could tell she was trying to figure out if I was serious. I smiled to myself. She was mine. I would never let my guys pull a train on her, not in a million fucking years, still, if it served as some incentive to keep her gun pointed away from my face, I was okay with that.
“You aren’t serious, are you?” she asked finally and I chuckled.
“Usually I don’t mind sharing, but for some reason, with you, I got a problem with that,” I told her truthfully. She nodded carefully and I dished us up some food.
“Good to know,” she murmured and pushed to her feet. She went to the fridge and brought out a bottle of white. I wished I could say it was interesting that she wasn’t outwardly phased or outraged by a threat of rape but she’d been in the military and threats of that nature, hell, follow through, wasn’t an uncommon practice.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Hmm? Yeah, why?” she asked.
“Suddenly feeling a little guilty for that asshole remark,” I told her.
She set the bottle and glasses on the counter and came to me, pulling me into her by the belt loops on my jeans. I put my hands on her shoulders and looked down the couple of inches into her dark and lovely eyes.