by Kati Wilde
“Fuck,” I grit out the curse between my teeth. She pauses. I know she’s going to ask if I’m hurting, but I’ll only hurt if she stops. I tangle my fingers in her hair and hold her in place before she can come up off me. “Keep going, princess.”
She moans and I know her pussy’s soaking wet right now, that her cunt’s just as hungry for my dick as her mouth is. Then she’s sucking my thick cock to the back of her throat and I have to fight not to shove deeper.
My fists tightens. “All the way.”
And she takes me. She can’t swallow my full length but she swallows me as far as she can, her throat squeezing the head of my cock before she pulls off me, hauling in air, and I can’t hold back any more.
I sit up and drag her over my lap. My right arm wraps around her waist. She automatically braces her hands on my shoulders then gasps and jerks her hands away.
“Oh, my God, Saxon—”
I don’t want to hear anything about hurting me, and whatever she’s about to say comes out as a strangled cry as my cock slides through her drenched slit and pushes deep.
Not deep enough. She’s so damn tight. And I don’t have any leverage.
“Lean back, Jenny.” My need makes it a growl.
Her shifting weight shoves my cock deeper when she does. Fuck, yeah. Her head falls back on a moan and she goes even farther, bracing her hands on the mattress beside my thighs, her legs spread wide over my hips, her feet planted on the bed behind me. Her back is arched. In the dark, her nipples are tight shadows against the pale of her skin.
I need to taste them. “Ride me now.”
She hesitates only for an instant—figuring out the position. The first rock of her hips is unsure. I steady her with my arm around her waist and lean forward to suck on her sweet little tit, then groan as her next thrust surrounds the full length of my cock with tight hot pussy.
“Oh, God,” she breathes and shifts her feet, digging her heels in, and this time she’s got leverage to slam onto me, spearing her cunt and then grinding her pelvis against mine. “Oh, God. I need you so much. So much.”
I catch her nipple between my lips and let go of her waist. She’s spread wide, completely exposed. Her clit’s slippery with juices, and my thumb strums over that tight little knot as she fills her pussy with my cock again. Her cunt clenches with every surge of her body, her moans rising into screams. So fucking hot. The way she loses herself. The way she gives herself. The way she gives everything.
To me.
“Jenny,” I say her name hoarsely. Then I’m pushing her back and onto her right side, scissoring her legs apart and straddling her thigh. I shove her left knee up toward her shoulder and then sink into her slick heat again, driving deep. She cries my name, and this fucking sling doesn’t let me get to her clit. Her pussy’s stretched tight and her inner muscles clutch the length of my cock, she’s close, so close. I pound into her as hard as she was fucking herself onto me. Her fingers wildly grip the sheets like she’s trying to pull away but she’s shoving back against me, her hips making tight spirals with every stroke. Suddenly her whole body locks up, she’s not breathing, not moving, but her pussy’s squeezing me hard, so hard, over and over again.
I can’t last after that. My balls seem to fill with hot lead then cum shoots out of me. Jenny shudders softly and her pussy clenches again, as if triggered by the heavy pulse of my cock inside her.
“Fuck.” I can’t catch my breath. Chest heaving, I brace my right arm behind her back. “God damn.”
A little laugh shakes through her, and her pussy muscles ripple around my dick. Jesus. I could stay buried in her warmth forever but I gently pull out, using the tail of my shirt to wipe away the cum. With a satisfied little sigh, she rolls onto her stomach. I come down next to her on my good side.
Her head’s turned toward me, her cheek pillowed against the sheet. She’s watching me move. “Do you need another Percocet?”
“I’ll get one in a minute.”
She nods. Her hand slides up and her fingers slip through mine. “I’m so scared that I’m going to lose you both.”
Her dad and me. I can’t say a damn thing, because she is going to lose one of us. Saying that it won’t be both isn’t really reassurance.
“I know you’ll say you won’t leave. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be taken. And I thought I did lose you,” she continues and now her voice is just a thick rasp. In the dark, her eyes glitter with tears. “For a minute the other night, I thought you were dead, and it hurt so much I wanted to die, too. And I keep seeing it over and over. So I can’t even—I can’t—”
Her breath catches again. I pull her closer but she doesn’t cry. She just shivers like she’s cold and heaves another sigh.
6
Jenny
I might lose him if I do this. I might lose him if I don’t.
In my email is a link from the photographer that takes me to a digital gallery. They’re big, hi-res photos, and when I zoom in, it doesn’t take long to find what I’m looking for. An outbuilding. Unremarkable on any spread of land in this part of Oregon, except for the burned patches on the ground behind the building. All around it, the grass is yellow and dried. Those burn patches aren’t from a fire; they’re chemical burns. Some nasty shit’s being dumped behind that outbuilding. A little farther back, a hole dug in the ground is filled with trash. A skid loader sits next to it—probably so they can cover the trash up quickly if they need to.
I print out the set and stuff the batch into a manila envelope. I just need to type up some fake anonymous note and send it to Sheriff Landauer. He’ll know who it’s from. I won’t give him the info he wants about the night Saxon was shot—that’s Saxon’s to deal with—but giving him the shooters wouldn’t have been enough, anyway. It would just be taking out two Henchmen. Something like this can take down the whole club.
And if I do it, I’ll be taking that from Saxon. I’ll be breaking every rule I grew up learning. Clubs take care of their own shit.
But I just want to take care of my man.
Saxon
I took it easy. I only visited the Den to sign the paychecks and do the little work that needed done before heading back to the ranch house. The truck Jenny’s using is already parked out front and it’s the one good thing I’ve seen most of the day. My jaw is bugging the fuck out of me. The drugs and the sling are bugging the fuck out of me. Everyone and everything’s bugging the fuck out of me.
Except Jenny. She’s just worrying me. Her body wasn’t hit but she still took a beating the other night. Thinking I’d died. In some ways, she got hurt worse than I did. And if it was me, thinking I’d lost her—even if it was only for a second?
I’d rather be shot again.
Hashtag’s at the door. He pounds my fist on the way out and says, “She’s upstairs, boss. She’s been real quiet all day.”
I nod and head up. She’s got all that upstairs floor to herself but it doesn’t take any time to find her. Wearing a tank top and little shorts, she’s curled up on the window seat, all long legs and golden skin with the sun streaming in over her. But her face is bleached-sheet white, and she’s holding herself like she hurts.
“Jenny? You all right?”
With a shuddering breath she sits up and points to a thick envelope lying on the bed. “Not really. You should look at those.”
“What is it?” Frowning, I pinch the clasp open, expecting some legal papers, or maybe something to do with her dad’s funeral or all the other plans that come accompanied by a kick to the face when a parent is dying. Instead there’s a bunch of pictures. “Where are these from?”
“The Eighty-Eight’s compound.”
“What?” That doesn’t make any sense. Zoomie and Blowback aren’t heading out until tonight.
She’s watching me, her expression like an eggshell. Carefully smooth but looking real easy to crack. “I thought of it a while back. After I started hearing about Reichmann threatening me, and just after I heard that my dad was si
ck but before he went to you. Because I was afraid I’d have to leave, right? There wouldn’t be anyone to protect me anymore. So I was trying to think of anything I could do that would get them off my back.”
Jesus Christ. She’s got the fucking meth kitchen circled in red. But I doubt she was planning to go in and burn it down. “What were you thinking?”
“That I’d send these in to the state police.”
My chest seems to hollow, like a razor went in and scraped everything out. Send these in. To the cops.
To get the Eighty-Eight off her back.
She keeps going. “I didn’t follow through before because I thought it wouldn’t do anything anyway. I mean, someone has to know these guys are operating out there, and no one has done anything yet. But Landauer’s asking for info from me. These guys aren’t even in Landauer’s jurisdiction because they’re a county over, but I think he’ll push it. I think he’ll make sure Reichmann goes down.”
And she’s not wrong. Landauer would. But the razor keeps scraping more out of me, and my chest is hurting like any second I’m going to spit up blood. I can’t look at her. I can’t look at anything in this fucking room. I should have earned my place here before stepping a foot in.
My throat is raw. “Did you think I couldn’t handle it? You think I couldn’t take him down?”
“I know you can.”
That’s not what these pictures say. And the anger’s coming, so fucking hot. “You know we’re planning to go out there.”
She slips her arms around her belly like she’s holding herself. Her eyes are huge and filling up. “Yes.”
“But you do this. Fuck.” I toss the pictures back to the bed. “Now you’re crying? You aren’t the one who just got stabbed in the fucking chest—and in the fucking back. You’re the one who screwed me here last night, who told me you fucking needed me, all the while knowing you were taking away the one fucking reason I’m here.”
Her eyes close, tears slipping out under her lashes. “It didn’t seem to matter. I knew I’d lose you one way or another.”
“Lose me?” My laugh rips at my guts and I go to her. I catch her chin and make her look up at me, and the misery in her eyes makes us a goddamn perfect pair. “Lose me? No, Jenny. You go ahead and stab me in the back and turn me into a worthless piece of shit. I still won’t let you go. I don’t care if you don’t fucking need me anymore.”
Because I still need her. So damn much. I need her taste and take it now, her mouth salty with tears. She’s pushing at me but I’m not done. I go in deeper, until she’s clinging to me, kissing me back with her hot velvet tongue.
My fist in her hair, I pull up and snarl, “And least you still need that.”
She shoves at my chest. This time I let her go. She spins away from me, her small breasts heaving, but she’s not crying now. She’s good and pissed. “What the hell does that mean? You think I don’t need you anymore? For what?”
“To protect you, Jenny. But you sure as hell don’t seem to think I can.” And knowing that is killing me.
She stares at me. “I know you can.”
“Then why the fuck would you ask Landauer to do it?”
“I’m not. If I sent those in, it would be to protect you.”
That doesn’t make any fucking sense. “What?”
“I know you can take them out. But I also know Landauer’s going to be looking right at you when you do. And I don’t…” Her breath hitches before she steadies again. “You already spent five years locked away because you were protecting me. I tried to help you then but nothing I said made any difference. But it will now. And I don’t want to lose you for the rest of my life. So if you want me to send this in, to get rid of the Eighty-Eight that way, I will.”
“To protect me.” It still doesn’t fit in my head but it’s filling up the emptiness in my chest. “I protect you, Jenny. It’s not the other way around.”
“It is now. But only if you want it.” She takes a shuddering breath. “Because you gave me a choice when my dad came to you. You let me decide whether to let you protect me. That’s why I didn’t just send the photos in. So you could choose, too.”
“I don’t want it.” Reichmann’s mine to take out—and I need to earn my place at her side, not hide behind her. I know Jenny wouldn’t agree, and when her eyes tear up all over again, I cup her cheek in my palm. “I don’t want it like this. But knowing you were trying to look after me? I like that a hell of a lot. You don’t need to protect me, though. That’s what my brothers do. We watch each other’s backs, I watch out for you.”
“There wasn’t anyone watching your back the other night.”
Shit. Yes, there was someone. “You did, Jenny. You got me out of there and saved my life. Now I’m going to have to eat every word I just said.”
She smiles a little, then sighs. “I know that’s how the club works. I know they have your back. I’m still afraid.”
“I guess that’s not going to go away until it’s done. But I’ll be careful. Because I need to come back to you.”
“And I need you here.” She pulls at the front of my shirt as if to make sure I have her attention. “Not just for protection, either. That’s not the only reason you’re here. I hope.”
“The sweetness of your pussy might have something to do with it.” And me loving her so much I can’t imagine living without her.
She grins. “Good. Because I kind of like your big cock.”
“Bullshit. You love it.”
Her fingers fist in my shirt and she pulls me back toward the bed. “That I do.”
Jenny
Saxon has the Riders and Titans who’ll be going out to the compound meet at the ranch house instead of the lodge. They’re spread out around our rec room, listening as he sketches out the plan. I’m standing at the back wall and just keeping quiet. Normally he wouldn’t talk business in front of me—not just for the club’s protection but for mine. If anything goes wrong, the less I know the better. My dad’s standing up next to him. Though he doesn’t say anything to Saxon in front of the others, I can tell he’s not happy that I’m here. Then Saxon tells them I got the daylight photos of the Eighty-Eight’s spread, so I’m already in this balls-deep and suddenly my dad’s pissed at me, instead.
I can handle him, though. I have all my life.
And I know why Saxon’s doing it this way. I’m not going out with them—but it helps to hear them talk it over. Because they aren’t going in like I imagined. They won’t be riding in on their loud bikes with a bunch of shotguns strapped to their backs. Instead it sounds a lot like a military operation. Something most of these guys are familiar with, I guess.
Beside me, Lily raises her hand. Earlier she gave me a dirty look when I told her why I’d hired someone else—so that the photos couldn’t be traced back to the Riders—but I guess flying over the compound last night and getting the infrared shots smoothed out her irritation. Those heat signatures are probably more useful anyway. It gave them a good idea of where the Henchmen will be around 3 a.m. on any given night, and how many will be standing guard.
Saxon spots Lily’s hand. “Zoomie?”
“Are we bringing our own weapons, boss?”
He looks to his veep. “Blowback?”
The big man opens a long crate he wheeled to the front of the room earlier. I can tell there’s some automatic rifles inside but I don’t know what kind. The others do, though. A few of the guys suck in their breaths and look to each other like they need confirmation of what they’re seeing.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Lily mutters beside me. She raises her voice. “Where the hell did you get all those, Jack?”
Blowback catches her in his cold stare. “I crossed paths with someone who shouldn’t have had them—and he’s the only one who would know that I have them now.”
“Is that someone still able to talk?”
“No.”
“All right, then.” Lily eases back.
Blowback looks to the others. �
�These can’t be traced to me or the Riders. Nothing out of this crate has been used before. And there’s two rules that come with them now: You don’t touch them without gloves on, and you leave them behind at the compound.”
“Wait. Leave those behind? Just get rid of them?” Gunner actually sounds pained.
“That’s what I said.”
“A dick in a rubber,” my dad adds, like he’s reminding them. It’s one of his favorite sayings. Go in clean. Come out clean. This time, so that the weapons can’t be traced back to them.
“We’re planning for two nights from now,” Saxon says. “The moon’s going to set around two-thirty. Three teams. Blowback’s will be taking out the kitchen and the cook. I’ll be leading mine in to find Reichmann. Red, Hashtag, and Zoomie are on the perimeter. Hashtag’s our eyes and communication; Red and Zoomie are going to be flying.”
Flying her helicopter? “Won’t it be loud?” I whisper to her.
“Not my bird.” She mimes lifting a rifle and pulling a trigger. “Up high. On a roof or in a tree.”
Oh. Covering the others’ backs. The knot in my chest eases a little more. It’s not untangled by the time the meeting’s done, but when Saxon comes to me afterward and asks quietly, “All right?”—for the first time, I think it might be.
7
Saxon
We’re waiting to hear the kitchen blow, but so far there’s nothing but crickets and dogs.
Blowback’s team veered off at the north end of the compound. In the two days since our meeting, he’s been out here a few times with Stone, checking our access routes for the rumored booby traps. Nothing yet, but we’re still stepping carefully. I’m of the mind that all of the Eighty-Eight’s security is more talk than show. There’s dogs all over the compound, and at the meeting we thought we’d have to put them down to keep them from waking up the Henchmen before we were in place, but they’re all just barking all the time. The quiet would be more of an alarm.