by KB Winters
I told him all about Reed and my next trip. “Cross said to take you with me. Take a look around and give him your impressions. End of week work for you?”
“No, Stitch, it doesn’t. I can’t just leave Maisie for a whole fucking day. I have to find a sitter so I’ll let you know.”
Which meant he would wait me out and try to get out of it. “Figure it out and come find me. Maisie and I will be out in the play area.”
“Asshole,” he growled behind me but I just laughed and carried the laughing two year old to the swings we’d put out back when it became clear the wives, girlfriends and kids would be hanging around the clubhouse a lot more.
While I pushed Maisie on the swing my thoughts went to Marisol. She’d been acting strange for the past few months. On edge but claiming she wasn’t; terrified but calling it stress. She’d lost weight and she wasn’t sleeping, and apparently she didn’t want my fucking help. But for some reason that was exactly what I wanted to do, help her out of whatever trouble she found herself in right now. Since it was just me and Maisie outside, I decided to give her a call. A couple weeks had passed since I’d been up there and I was due for a trip. With or without Gunnar.
“Hey you,” she said in that husky voice that would have made my dick hard if I wasn’t pushing an infant on a swing. “Now isn’t a good time. Do you mind if I call you back?”
“Who the fuck is that? Quien es?” It was a man’s voice, high pitched with a thick Spanish accent.
“None of your business,” she grunted through clenched teeth. “Look,” she said, talking to me again. “I have to deal with this right now but I’ll call you back.”
“No you won’t! Tell that pendejo to fuck off!”
“Is that him, the married fucker?”
“Yes,” she sighed, sounding exhausted and resigned to her fate.
“Want me to come up there?”
“Not now,” she whispered. “He’s jealous and angry. I can handle it.”
Of course she could. She’d been raised by an alcoholic father who’d only gotten worse when her mother died. “That’s not the point. You shouldn’t have to handle that asshole by yourself. What’s his name?”
“Never mind. I have to call you back.” Then she ended the fucking call and it took everything within me not to hop on my bike and go knock that fucker out.
But Marisol didn’t want my help. No, she wanted to handle this by herself. And I didn’t like it one bit.
Chapter Three - Lasso
“Just be careful. Something feels weird and I don’t know what.” Rocky had her beautiful body pressed up against mine, arms wrapped tight around me, big green eyes filled with worry.
“Aw, sugar, you worried about me?” As much as I hated to admit it, my daddy was right. There was nothing in this world like the love of a good woman. And Rocky was a damn good woman. She was my woman. “Don’t be babe, I’ve got two damn good reasons to come back. And I will. Always.”
Her mouth tipped into a soft, lopsided grin. “I know that, cowboy. I’m just telling you to be careful.”
It was sweet that she always worried about me and considering all the shit that had fallen on the club the past few years, I couldn’t blame her. Instead I kissed her, long and slow, hard as I pushed her body against the fridge until she moaned. “I’ll be fine and careful, Rocky. What I need you to do is rest up because when I get back I’m gonna put another baby in you.”
A loud throaty laugh bubbled out of her and she smacked my arm. “Why don’t you worry about winning the big prize first?”
“Like there’s any doubt who’s taking the cash and the trophy home.” Since the tattoo shop wasn’t a club business, Golden Boy and I would split the fifty grand cash prize, which only made me want to win even more. “Jag’s gonna stop by to check on you and Dallas while I’m gone.”
Her smile lit up again but those green eyes nearly cut a hole through me. “That’s not necessary. Between baby yoga, finger painting and creating Halloween costumes for all the kids, I’ll be plenty busy. And I’m sure Jag has better things to do.”
I wished that was true but he hadn’t been himself since his girl, Vivi, disappeared to the east coast with the CIA. “Better than playing with his godson? Un-fucking-likely.” He loved my boy as much as I did and I knew he’d make sure they were protected in my absence. “Don’t forget the sexy Halloween costume you promised me.”
She laughed. “Oh I won’t. I’ve got your measurements and everything.”
I frowned. “Wait, that wasn’t the agreement. You’re supposed to have the sexy costume.”
One hand pressed against my chest and Rocky took a step back. “No, you said, ‘make something sexy for me for Halloween’ and I did.”
“You little minx.”
She giggled, fucking giggled and all the blood in my body made a short trip to my cock. “Damn right. Besides, every good cowboy needs a horse.”
“A horse?”
“Yep. Dallas is going to be a cowboy.” Her smile was filled with mischief. “I’ve never ridden a horse before.”
“Damn I love you, Rocky.” She laughed as my mouth scraped against her neck, her throat and across her collarbone. She was as delicate as she was tough and it was a combination I couldn’t resist.
“That’s good cowboy, because I love you too.”
It never got old to hear and it never failed to get my blood good and hot, and thick like molasses. “Is Baby Dallas still sleeping?”
“For another half hour. At least.” Her voice was already breathy, thick with desire as her arms tightened around me. Pulled me close so her lips could devour me, so her tongue could taste every inch of my mouth while my hands slid down her back and under her robe. One hand squeezing ass cheeks so round from having my baby while the other slipped inside the opening of her robe and between the folds of her pussy. Hot and slick. For me. “Don’t make me wait, cowboy.”
Did I mention that I loved it when she called me cowboy? Two fingers slid into her slick pussy, deep and she let out a low moan that had me ready to take her, hard and fast in the kitchen. But my cock wouldn’t come out until she had at least one orgasm—maybe two—because nothing felt better than sliding in to a dripping and pulsing pussy. When that first orgasm poured from her, I was wild like an animal, shoving down my sweatpants and lifting her before impaling her on my hard cock. “Oh fuck, Rocky. You’re so fucking wet.”
“That’s all you, big guy.” She smiled and licked a trail of wet heat up my neck while I held her, thrusting deep. “I’m going to miss this while you’re gone.”
I thrust deeper and harder, using my body to keep her where I wanted her, fucking her so hard, she’d miss me every damn second I was away from her. She cried out and clenched around me, letting out that little half-grunt, half-sigh that always accompanied her orgasms. With Rocky limp in my arms, I held her and pounded my way to orgasm, skin tingling at the way she scraped her teeth along my skin. “Oh fuck, Rocky babe!”
She laughed and dropped her head on my shoulder, tightening her legs around my waist. “Good job, cowboy. That’ll tide me over until you come back.” She kissed me again and slid down my body before tightening her robe and stepping away. “Go say goodbye to your son before you leave.”
I wasn’t ready to leave, hell I hadn’t spent more than a day or two away since Dallas was born and I wasn’t sure I could do it.
But I would. For my family, I’d do anything.
Chapter Four - Max
“I don’t know why in the hell Golden Boy asked me to show up this week, it’s not like you can’t handle this on your own.” I didn’t mind spending a few days at GET INK’D but I knew jack shit about drawing up tattoos. I only painted for therapy and I only kept it up because I loved to paint with my woman. At least when we found time between taking care of our kids.
“Because someone, me, needs to do ink and piercings while someone else, you, takes calls and mans the register.” Jag grinned over at me with a smartass smirk. “Besides, the arti
sts coming in this week can handle a few extra slabs of skin while you oversee the important stuff.” Golden Boy had connected with two big name tattoo artists looking to spend some time in Vegas and grow their brand. He had some notion it would help the club but I didn’t see how.
“The ink isn’t important?”
“Yeah, but money is too. And we have the ink part handled. If you really don’t wanna be here,” he began and trailed off in that reasonable way that was damn annoying when it was aimed at you. “With The Inky Minx and Indigo coming in, we’ll have more than enough ink to worry about.”
“Okay, fine. If you want me here to hold your hand, Jag, I’m happy to help out.”
“Dick,” he smirked and went to set up his work station before his first appointment showed up.
Every time I set foot inside the shop, it amazed me that my brother was able to create this beautiful shop from the worst shit that had ever happened to him. I’d barely survived PTSD but he’d been wrongfully convicted for six years and had somehow found a way to make it into something good. I was damn proud of him and I knew our mom would’ve been proud as well, if she was still around. “We’re not open yet,” I called out from behind the counter where I was unloading after-care kits.
“Your wife told me I could find you here.” I knew that voice. I’d heard it too many times over the past few years.
“Dodds.” I stood to my full height. “What are you doing here?” I couldn’t hate on the guy because he’d not only saved Moon’s life but he was also instrumental in bringing down most of Roadkill MC and the crooked politician working with them. “Came to get a thin blue line tat?”
His lips twitched with amusement as he walked in, looking around in that intrusive way of law enforcement all over the world. “Maybe another time. I have a question or two. For you.”
My body tensed right away. Not because I thought we were in trouble, hell the club had finally rebounded from all the shit thrown at us last year, but cops asking questions was rarely a good thing. “Do I need my lawyer?”
He shook his head and leaned against the counter, looking more relaxed than I’d ever seen him. “Nope. I have questions that you might not like but I need answers.” His brown eyes were clear and sober. Serious as hell.
“Ask.” I might not answer them but I knew the club as a whole owed him so I squared my shoulders and looked him straight on. And waited.
“Are the Reckless Bastards doin’ business with cartels now?”
“What? Fuck no!” We had a hard and fast rule as a club that the cartels were off limits. They were always into bad shit like trafficking kids and selling arms indiscriminately. We were no angels but we had our limits. “Why would you ask that?”
Dodds sighed, the weight of his new job weighing heavy on his shoulders. It couldn’t have been easy going from Internal Affairs and taking down a well-respected but dirty as fuck cop, to being a top detective for the Gangs & Drugs task force. “We’ve spotted a few known cartel members over at Siren Casino & Resort when their tats popped up on surveillance. I’m just trying to figure out if they’re here to experience ‘What happens in Vegas’ or if they’re here to do business.”
“Shit.” Cartel visits were no good for anyone. Even if they were here for fun, they were notorious for trying to squeeze other business out if they saw an opening. “Reckless Bastards don’t fuck with cartels but I’ll talk to Cross and see if he’s heard anything.”
“Sounds good. I didn’t want to ask these questions with the kid around,” he said, referring to Beau who was Cross’s number one fan. “Any intel you have would be appreciated and anonymous.”
“Appreciate it. Don’t forget to come back for that tat, Detective.”
He laughed again and gave a quick wave before heading out of the shop just as a guy with almost clear blue eyes showed up and stared at me. “I’m Indigo.”
I nodded and motioned to the big room Lasso usually occupied since this guy was known for sleeves and big ass tats. For the next couple hours I sat up front listening to music and answering the most idiotic fucking questions from potential customers. They were all tourists and didn’t have a clue about tattoos. “You’ll have to come into the shop to get that answer,” became my mantra to callers by the time lunch rolled around. “Jesus, fuck! You have got to be kidding me.”
“Callers getting’ to ya, Max?”
I growled at Jag who looked far too fucking happy for a guy who’d been hunched over a sweaty hog-riding weekend warrior for the past three hours. “There should be a fucking IQ test before you get inked.”
He laughed, shrugging it off like the calm and collected guy he was. “Ink is serious business for most people.” He waited a beat and then another, until Indigo stepped out for a smoke. “So, Dodds?”
I gave him a quick rundown of what the detective wanted and he let out a long, low whistle. “He didn’t say which cartel though?”
“If any tattoos popped up on surveillance, I can find them when I get home.” The guy was a damn genius when it came to working on computers and techy shit and sometimes, I wondered why the hell he’d become a Reckless Bastard in the first place.
“You can find what came up on surveillance?”
Jag snorted. “Who the fuck you talking to man?”
“Okay, okay. Sorry. I told him I’d talk to Cross to see if he knew anything but there wasn’t much else to say.” We both sat there in momentary silence, probably thinking the same damn thing. Please don’t let more shit be headed to Mayhem. “Any word on Vivi?” It was Jag’s least favorite conversation these days but the guy needed to talk about it. At least according to my wife.
“No,” he snarled. “She keeps saying she’ll be back soon but soon isn’t a goddamn date, is it? You think she changed her mind?”
Normally I would give Jag shit and tell him she probably had changed her mind but if the CIA had scooped Jana up from me, I’d be burning down every bridge to drag her back. “No man, I don’t. I think the feds will squeeze every fucking second out of her they legally can. You just have to be patient. Vivi doesn’t seem like the kind of girl to lie about her feelings. Right?”
“Riiight,” he sighed reluctantly. “She’s a woman. They change their mind. Daily.” Vivi was tough as nails with steel running through her spine, and just as smart as Jag.
“Maybe try focusing on something other than Vivi. Get your house ready for when she does come back and add some freaky computer love shit for you nerds.” He flipped me off like I expected and we both laughed.
“Jana has turned you into a pussy,” he accused and that pulled a bigger laugh from me. “All romantic and in love.”
“Well, romance is hard to come by with two kiddos in the house, but with a little creativity we make it work.”
“No shit, when is the next one coming?”
The thought of another kid made me smile. Charlie and Jameson were a handful and I loved the hell out of them but a little girl with her mama’s hair and eyes, well that sounded like my version of heaven. “Well, we are constantly practicing.”
“Not interested in the deets, man.”
I smiled with a hint of mischief. “I mean I have learned plenty of tricks—”
“Jana is like a sister to me, man. Stopppp.”
“My favorite is to drive her wild. Quietly.” I wiggled my thick fingers in the air.
Jag pushed off the counter and took a step back. “Better go get ready for my next client.”
“Don’t be a pussy, Jag.”
He shot me a grin. “I’ll just wait until she tells me all the details and fuck with you later.”
I snorted a little. Maybe working at GET INK’D for the next few days wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Chapter Five - Gunnar
The last fucking thing I wanted was to take this Goddamn road trip with Stitch, but the fucking kid was relentless. He’d badgered Cross until he gave in, sending me on a half day’s ride up to Reno. Fucking Reno. Instead of hanging out with M
aisie, who was growing faster than a weed. She was with Rocky while my ass was numb four hours into the trip. “What’s wrong with our current supplier?”
Stitch grinned. “Nothing except we’re fucked if something happens to them. Plus I know Reed and his shit is good. Real good.”
I believed that. The kid wasn’t just a regular social pot smoker, no, he was a certified fucking stoner. “Yeah, all right. But could this dude live fucking closer than bum-fuck Egypt?”
The kid flashed another smile around his bacon chili cheeseburger at some roadside burger joint where we stopped to refuel before we made it to this guy Reed’s operation. “He could but wait until you see it, then you can talk shit.”
Christ, was I ever that fucking young and naive? “You know you’re a brother even if this doesn’t pan out?”
He nodded while he finished chewing and shoved a handful of fries in his mouth. “I know but this is a good move because right now most of Reed’s stuff goes to Cali, which means people will come to us for the really good shit.” He stood and tossed his trash, returning with two bottles of water. “You don’t have to be such a grumpy asshole about it, you know. I know you think I’m just a fuckin’ kid and I don’t know shit but give this a chance.”
Well fuck, now he went and made me feel bad. And I knew I had to give him what he was asking for because he was right. I was being an asshole and the kid just wanted to matter. Plus raising Maisie cost a lot of fucking money and if he was right, it would mean a bigger payday for all of us. “Fine but I’ll be honest.”
Like the kid he was at only twenty-six, Stitch smiled a smile of someone with something to prove. “I expect nothing less. When was the last time you were nice enough to spare someone’s fucking feelings?”
I may have been a hard bastard but I wanted to give Maisie more than our mom ever gave me and definitely more than the six weeks she’d spent with Maisie before she was put into the ground. Maisie deserved better, hell probably more than I could ever give her, but I wanted her to have everything. And better weed meant bigger profits, which spelled a better, normal life for my sister. “Come on, let’s get outta here before my ass remembers what it’s like to have feeling.”