Wild Fire: A Chaos Novella

by Kristen Ashley

  Dutch swallowed his pizza and asked, “Anything on that?”

  “That was a harder pull, but yeah. She likes to get laid. Though the guy couldn’t pinpoint who was there, since she spread her love around, which Bronson figures might have been the problem. One of them got jealous, came over and got up in her shit, things escalated to a fight. She was fishing too much in a stinking pond, messing with men who don’t like to be messed with and have no problem sharing that in ugly ways, even with a woman. Khalon Stephens didn’t like the sound of it. And we are where we’re at.”

  “He give you names?”

  “He had trouble narrowing it down.”

  “Jesus,” Dutch muttered, taking another bite.

  “But it doesn’t matter. This racket is highly organized,” Rush said. “You’re in, you deal with what you deal with. This situation was big, and she’s flashy, so she was known, and when that went down, word got around. But Bronson isn’t part of the counterfeit cash gig. He’s on distribution of Cialis and Viagra that comes in from Canada and Mexico. So for the most part, he doesn’t know names, just faces. Until I told him her name, he didn’t know it. Just knew what happened with her, and that she was out, and all were told not to associate with her.”

  “You believe him?”

  “He was pretty tweaked he’d been hauled in by Chaos. Can’t say he spilled right away, but eventually he was cooperative and absolutely not at one with her shit landing on him, or their racket, in any way. So, yeah.”

  Fuck.

  “You cut him loose?” Dutch asked.

  “Pretty certain we got all we could from him, so again, yeah.”

  “Right.”

  “The kid?” Rush asked.

  “You line ten thousand men up that all meet the same description, he’d pick the fucker out in five seconds flat.”

  “So we need to be all over that warehouse when you said we can’t be all over that warehouse.”

  “Nightingale is on that. Vance, Luke and Roam met the kid, witnessed his break, and not surprisingly, man hours loosened up. They’re all in. They’re setting up surveillance equipment as we speak.”

  “Fuckin’ great,” Rush said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Between us on her and Nightingale on that warehouse, we’ll get him, Dutch,” Rush said.

  He hoped so.

  “Yeah.”

  “Catch some sleep. Wanna meet with you tomorrow, set a schedule of who’s on her, who’s on security for Carlyle and his mom and sister.”

  “Time?”

  “Whenever. Your call.”

  Dutch studied Georgie, who was off the phone and concentrating on eating and not falling over.

  He got that.

  You could run a marathon, and if you’re fit, probably paint your bedroom after.

  But emotion will suck it all out of you every time.

  “I’ll text you in the morning,” Dutch told him.

  “Right. Cool. Later.”

  “Later, Rush.”

  He disconnected, tossed his phone on the counter and asked, “Well?”

  She looked up to him and watched him take another huge bite before she spoke.

  “Well, taking nothing away from the fact that I think Carolyn genuinely does probably love your brother, and that was part of why this morning was off-the-hook, it’s clear another part of it is that she’s in some financial trouble and Jagger was her bid to freedom from that. With him out of the picture, she went to our mother, who shot her down, and was desperate enough to break the silence with Dad, who’s now entirely freaked out.”

  “Did he shoot her down?”

  “He asked her to come and talk to him. Something she did. And since he hasn’t seen her in a while, and she’s lost some weight, and was tweaking, he asked pertinent questions he knew the answers to. She lied. He cottoned onto that too. So, yes. He shot her down for money to buy coke or whatever else is at issue. But he offered to pay for rehab. She refused.”

  “Shit, baby,” Dutch whispered.

  She looked to the pizza and grabbed another slice, saying, “And now Dad’s mad at me because I admitted I knew there was a problem and I didn’t let him in on it.”

  Uh…

  No.

  “Fuck that, Georgiana,” Dutch clipped.

  She again gave him her eyes. “I know. He’s just worried. He’ll get over it.”

  “The last time you ate her shit happened this morning, baby,” he warned her.

  “Okay, Dutch, but what if her financial situation involves owing money to a dealer?”

  Dutch drew in breath through his nose.

  The reason why dope was zero tolerated by Chaos was not solely because that shit was fucked up and they wanted no part of it.

  It started back when Tack’s sister overdosed.

  The Club dealt.

  His sister dead, Tack went on a mission and he recruited brothers to that mission, and this mission was to get that shit, and all the other, out of the lives of Chaos.

  The final battle sparked when Tabby’s best friend, who was a junkie, got in over her head and the Club intervened to get her out of a very bad situation.

  Carlyle, they were on board.

  Carolyn, they would let swing.

  And not just because of the dope.

  Because she’d played a brother.

  Even knowing this, Dutch offered, “You want me to ask around, darlin’?”

  “I don’t want you eating shit because of this either,” she mumbled irately, and took a bite of pizza.

  “And I don’t want you worried,” he returned.

  She chewed, swallowed and refocused on him.

  “I’m going to have a conversation and share this with her. Share that this is what she’s saddling me with. Mother with. Dad with. This gnawing worry. And I’m going to tell her this one time, I’ll intervene with Mother, Dad, and pitch in myself if she promises to get her shit straight. But if she can’t, we’re done. At least I am. I’ll be out. For good. I can’t let this infect my life like that. Of course, there is no way I can just switch off the love and worry I have for my sister. But she doesn’t need to know that.”

  “That’s a very mature response,” he told her.

  “It’s big words,” she replied. “I’m totally going to go back on it.”

  Dutch started laughing and hooked her with an arm to pull her to him.

  He could finish eating with her tucked close.

  So could she.

  “So…Carolyn down,” she put a line under it, sharing succinctly she was done talking about her sister. “What do you have?”

  He ran down what Rush told him.

  When he was done, she asked, “Do you think we should hand this over to the police? Because, Dutch, pictures Chaos or Nightingale Investigations takes are not admissible.”

  “We just want Carlyle to identify his father’s killer. The cops can deal with black market shit. That isn’t the mission here. The mission is justice for Khalon Stephens. The end.”

  She nodded.

  “So we get a picture, and hope to God a name, of the man Carlyle saw that night, then the cops can run with it,” he finished.

  “Okay,” she said, then took another bite.

  “Sorry about our date,” he said before taking his own bite.

  “I don’t know if you noticed this, but we’re kinda on the longest, most drawn-out date in history,” she remarked. “Though, it’d be nice for part of it to be at a fancy restaurant, because if you liked the black dress, you’re really gonna like the dress I picked for our date.”

  He pulled her closer and dipped his head her way. “Yeah?”

  “Oh yeah,” she whispered, that got-your-cock look catching the attention of his cock.

  He tossed his half-eaten slice in the box and wrapped his other arm around her.

  She followed suit and her arms were around his neck.

  They made out and it was righteous, not only because he fucking loved kissing Georgie, but bec
ause nothing interrupted it.

  However, eventually, Dutch did.

  For Georgie.

  He pulled away, murmuring, “Finish pizza. Beer. Then I need to give my girl some shut-eye.”

  “Are you serious?”

  At her tone, and the look on her face, he’d been serious, now he wasn’t sure.

  “Babe, you’re dead on your feet.”

  “I thought we were gonna get busy tonight.”

  He grinned at her. “We were. But you’re wiped. I’m wiped. Today was full of a lot of everyone else’s shit, and the first time I’m inside you, I want it all about us.”

  “Okay, I can be down with that. So payback-for-this-morning blowjob.”

  Dutch blinked.

  His dick jumped.

  And his mouth said, “What?”

  “Though, caveat, if you’re feeling the need to return the favor in any way you might wish to do that, I’m open. You can be stingy with taking your orgasms. I’m all in whenever you feel like doling one out.”

  It took a beat.

  And then Dutch busted out laughing.

  When he was done, he realized Georgie had not joined him.

  He knew why when she asked, “Do I get to go down on you?”

  He hauled her tighter to his frame, and with no humor whatsoever, he growled, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

  She smiled.

  Then she kissed him.

  He let her.

  He broke it, broke their clinch entirely, stepped back far enough to come forward bent low, and he hefted her up on his shoulder.

  She made that squeal he liked so much and then wrapped her arms around his middle from the back, saying, “Holy wow, you can pick me up.”

  She was not a lightweight, but he didn’t work out, and hard, since he was fourteen not to be able to haul his old lady around when he got one.

  Since he’d done what she said, he didn’t feel a response was necessary, so he didn’t make one.

  He just dumped her on his bed when they got there.

  Dutch twisted to the lamp and turned it on.

  Georgiana scrambled up on her knees.

  He lifted his hands to behind his neck and yanked off his Henley.

  Georgie went after his belt.

  She tugged so hard, his hips jerked.

  “Whoa, baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured on a grin.

  Her head tipped back. “Carolyn is a mess. There’s a murderer on the loose. And Murtagh was unusually quiet when we got home so he might interrupt at any time. Not to mention, you have, like, a bazillion brothers who all seem very together, but who knows? Couples fight. Kids throw tantrums. A brother might need the soothing goodness of Dutch Black and probably would not hesitate to knock on your door to get it. So shut up. I’m gonna suck you off while I’ve got a clear shot.”

  Never in his life would he think anytime, but especially with Georgie, that he’d be laughing when a woman got his zip lowered, yanked his jeans down, freeing his hard cock, and then bent over and went in.

  But he was.

  He wasn’t laughing when she drew him deep.

  Fucking fuck.

  That mouth.

  Beautiful.

  He cupped the back of her head and whispered, “Baby.”

  She braced herself on the bed in one hand, took hold of his hip with the other, and she blew him.

  Christ.

  He knew the minute she had his tongue, this would be what he got, but fuck if it didn’t feel way fucking better around his cock.

  She took him there and he had no choice but to warn, “Gotta fuck your face, Georgie.”

  She stilled to give her permission.

  Dutch took over.

  God.

  Fuck.

  God.

  Fuck.

  “You swallow?” he grunted.

  She wrapped both hands around his ass and dug her nails in.

  She swallowed.

  Then she sucked, he fucked, and finally he blew down her throat, arching into his orgasm, his head falling back, goddamned fucking amazing.

  He was barely over it before he hauled his jeans up, tucked his dick in, liking the scrape against his sensitive flesh and the wet of her mouth still there, and ordered a hoarse, “C’mere.”

  She pushed up to straight and he took control of the fly on her cords.

  “Dutch,” she whispered.

  “Shut it,” he muttered, got the zip down, wrapped an arm around her to pull her to him, shoved a hand down her pants and took her mouth.

  She was wet, she was ready, she got off on that blowjob, not as much as he did, but enough it didn’t take him long to get her there, so he fingered her to orgasm.

  She’d swallowed his cum.

  He swallowed her whimper.

  He ended it like he did that morning, with two fingers deep inside her, but as she recovered, he didn’t slide them out.

  Dutch trailed his lips to her ear and whispered, “This pussy feels sweet.”

  “I hope you like it when you finally take it,” she whispered back.

  He grinned and sucked her lobe in his mouth.

  She shivered.

  He stroked her inside.

  “Dutch,” she breathed.

  “Love the way you say my name,” he told her.

  She glided her fingers in his hair.

  “Love your ass.”

  She pressed closer.

  “Love how fuckin’ crazy you are about a goddamned cat.”

  She stroked his hair at the bottom, which meant at the same time she stroked the back of his neck.

  “Love how you go gung-ho for a kid you’ve never met. Love how you’re gentle with my mom because you know she’s dealing with some shit with me. Love how big your tits are. And I know I’m gonna love sinking into this pussy.”

  He pushed his fingers deeper.

  She gasped.

  He slid his fingers out and pulled his head back enough she could watch when he slipped them in his mouth to suck them clean.

  She watched and she did it on a low, hot moan.

  It was Dutch who got the real goodness, though, because she tasted as fantastic as all things Georgie.

  Another gasp came when he finished doing that and he caught her hard on either side of her head where it met her neck.

  And then he got close.

  “Do you know how unbelievably fuckin’ amazing you are, Georgiana?”

  Tears filled her eyes.

  “Honey,” she whispered.

  “I was lost, and I’ve not known you a week, and I might not have it together, but I’m on the road to bein’ found and that loosens somethin’ in me that’s been so tight for so long, jackin’ me up so bad, I thought it was going to kill an important part of me.”

  “Dutch—”

  “You give great fuckin’ head, baby. I love it too that you know when to give over to me. And I love how wet you get doin’ it and how quick you come for me. But serious, with all we got, when I slide inside you, it’s gonna be all about you for me and me for you. I don’t care if I have to take us to Siberia to make that happen.”

  “I hear Siberia is cold,” she said softly.

  “I’ll keep you warm.”

  “I’ve noticed you’re good at that,” she muttered.

  “Babe.”

  Her focus became hyper-alert.

  “Dutch, I’ll exist on blowjobs and finger fucking as long as you need to keep it at that to give you what you need to take us where you need us to be when that happens between us. I’ll take anything from you. I’ll even give you my cat. Because you’re that man who deserves it. And you’re that man to me.”

  Her words made something in his chest explode, busting apart, vaporizing.

  Because of that, he took her mouth and kissed her tough.

  And his Georgie, she took that.

  But as the emotion he was feeling faded, he gentled it, she was with him on that too, until finally, he ended it.

  “Now, we nee
d some sleep,” he said quietly.

  “Yeah, Dutch,” she replied.

  “You get the bathroom first,” he said, and for some reason, that made her smile. So he asked, “What?”

  “Well, I don’t know, that was pretty intense. And all of this is happening fast. And with what’s happening, I don’t think it comes as a surprise to either of us as to why. But if you ever get to wondering why some woman started falling for you, hard and swift, just remember, you always gave her the bathroom first.”

  The first part made hella sense.

  The last did not.

  And he told her that by saying, “Babe.”

  “Dutch, I first met you when you were doing a favor for your brother. You put others above yourself a lot. A whole lot. You gave me stuff about giving you the security code to my building when you know you’re not going to be that creepy jerk if things go wrong with us—”

  “Things aren’t gonna go wrong with us.”

  “You get my point.”

  “Georgie—”

  She slid her fingers into his hair on either side of his head and gave it a gentle jerk.

  “You’re just that guy, Dutch. That guy. And I’m just really glad I met you.” She pulled him to her for a quick kiss, before she moved away and got off the bed. “Now we both need sleep. Because who flipping knows what’s gonna happen tomorrow.”

  And she disappeared in the bathroom.

  “Mwrr?” Murtagh asked from the door.

  Dutch looked at the cat. “Yeah, we’re done.”

  “Mwrrrrr,” Murtagh said, strolled in, jumped on the bed, did a yoga pose, and started licking his foot.

  In fifteen minutes, he’d double-checked his house was locked down, the pizza box was in the fridge, the lights out, and Dutch was on his back in bed with Georgie tucked down his side, her cheek on his pec, Murtagh settled in on his abs.

  Dutch was staring at the shadowed ceiling.

  He knew by her breathing that Georgie was staring at his chest.

  “What’d my ma talk to you about?” he asked.

  “She’s worried about you,” she answered.

  “What’d you say?”

  “I told her I got you.”

  He had his arm around her, and at that, he pulled her closer.

  Because she had that right.

  She had him.

  Time passed.

  Georgiana didn’t slide into sleep.

  Neither did Dutch.

  She knew that, which was why she relayed, “Just so you know, if you ever want my avid attention when you’ve got something really sexy and sweet and awesome to say, feel free to do it with two fingers inside me.”