Nitro: MC Biker Romance (Dark Pharaohs Motorcycle Club Romance Book 4)

by Ivy Black

  I give him a wry grin. “Do you really think you’re not getting your patch?” I ask. “I mean, barring some catastrophic fuckup on your part.”

  “I never take anything for granted.”

  I nod. He’s a good kid. Smart. Pragmatic. He’s a practical thinker and somebody who, to this point, makes me think can always be relied on. And from everything I’ve seen from him so far, he seems like he’s loyal. I’ve never gotten the sense from him that he’s working some personal angle or he’s going to stab us all in the back. I like all those qualities. Makes me think he’s going to be a solid addition to the MC.

  “Just keep doing what you’re doing, and I think you’ll be fine,” I tell him. “I don’t see you not getting your patch.”

  “Well, like I said, I never take anything for granted,” Blake replies.

  “Fair enough,” I say. “But just for shits and giggles, what would you want your club name to be?”

  Blake purses his lips and looks down at the ground. He screws up his face, and I can tell he’s thinking hard. That tells me he really hasn’t given any thought whatsoever to his future with the club. The kid really doesn’t put the cart before the horse. Strangely, it makes me like him even more. Well, that and the fact that he volunteered to come out with me today—insisted on it, in fact.

  I think it’s partly because he wants to prove he’s got my back. But I think it’s mostly because he feels the need to make sure I don’t get too far out of pocket. When I told him where I was headed today, he’d jumped up and said he was going with me—wouldn’t take no for an answer. It’s not that I need somebody here to have my back or protect me, but I appreciate having him here just to make sure I don’t cross a line I can’t come back from.

  I’ve got a temper; I freely admit it. And my temper is why Hadley didn’t want me to confront Rollins in the first place. It’s not quite as explosive or out of control as it used to be. But even now, when I’m pushed too far, I know I can snap. I think Blake knows that about me too and given the fact that we’re confronting a federal agent, he’s here to help keep me out of jail.

  We’re leaning against Rollins’ black SUV in the hotel parking lot, waiting for him to come out. Even though he found nothing at the compound when he and his men raided it, Singer told us that Rollins is digging in harder, more determined than ever to get us for something. I have a feeling his bosses at the ATF won’t look too favorably on him if he comes back empty-handed. So he’s got to turn over every stone in the hope he can pin something—anything—on us.

  “What do you think about Bullet? Or maybe Torque. Or what about something like Nuke?” he asks.

  “Oh, I think those are great,” I say. “But you kinda look like you just walked out of a boy band, so I wouldn’t be too surprised to see you get named Backstreet or something like that.”

  I laugh at Blake, who looks stricken by the idea of getting tagged with a name associated with some boy band. I’d like to say I’m kidding and that Leadership would never do something like that—but they can be sadistic like that sometimes. They all seem to like Blake though, so I doubt they’d tag him with a terrible name. I’m just grateful they gave me a name I like. It relates to my job back in the service and sounds kind of cool. I shudder to think what they’ll stick baby-faced Blake with.

  “Here he comes,” Blake mutters.

  “Right. Keep your head on a swivel.”

  We watch as Rollins makes his way along the second-story walkway. He disappears from view when he steps into the stairwell but is then spit out onto the asphalt parking lot. He’s busy looking down at his phone and doesn’t bother looking up until he’s about fifty yards from his ride. And when he sees us there, leaning against the SUV, I notice a slight hitch in his step. He quickly recovers though and slips his phone into the pocket of his off-the-discount-rack sport coat.

  Rollins stops about ten yards from us and puts his hands on his hips, not so subtly pushing his coat back to give us a view of the sidearm on his hip. I cut a glance at Blake and give him a smirk.

  “Smooth,” I say. “You practice that move in the mirror?”

  “What are you doing here?”

  There’s a slight tremor in his voice, which I take satisfaction in. We have him off-balance and back on his heels. Just as I wanted when I planned to ambush him at his hotel in the first place. Rollins is a man who needs to be in control of all things at all times. Being the one in charge and the one calling all the shots is his comfort zone. I imagine that working for this guy has to suck serious balls.

  But when he’s surprised like this, confronted with a situation he didn’t plan or prepare for, he’s out of his element. When he’s forced back on his heels, Rollins is uneasy and uncertain. It makes him nervous. Even fearful.

  I knew plenty of guys like him in the Corps. When all the conditions were right and they were in charge of everything, they were bold and confident. They were the ones leading the charge because they thought their balls had turned to solid brass. But take away that control and force them into conditions that were less than ideal and that instantly stripped them of their confidence. And far from leading the charge, they were usually the ones running away from the fight.

  “What do you want?” Rollins sneers.

  “Thought we’d repay you for the early morning visit you dropped on us the other day,” I say.

  “It’s not really early morning anymore,” Blake says.

  I glance at my watch then look over at him. “You’re right. It’s not,” I say then turn back to Rollins. “You feds always sleep so late? No wonder shit moves so slow in this country.”

  “Cute. Get out of my way,” he snaps.

  “You and I are going to have a talk first so settle down.”

  “You want me to arrest you?” Rollins asks, a slight crack in his voice.

  “On what charge? Wanting to talk?”

  “Make an appointment with my secretary.”

  “I think they’re called personal assistants these days,” Blake offers. “Secretary is considered kind of a sexist term today.”

  I look over at him. “No shit?”

  “No shit,” he replies. “Times are changing, Agent Rollins. Get with it or you’re gonna find yourself called into HR.”

  “Screw you,” Rollins hisses.

  He starts to move toward the SUV but as he closes with us, I put my hand on his chest and give him a little shove back. Rollins’ face turns purple, and he looks like he wants to pull his weapon and shoot me. I glance at his hand which is hovering near the holster beneath his coat and laugh softly.

  “You really don’t want to do that,” I tell him. “I’ll have a round through your forehead before your weapon even clears the holster. Trust that.”

  He sighs and clenches his jaw, hardening his gaze at me but drops his hand to his side.

  “What do you want?” he asks again.

  “Like I said, just to have a talk,” I say.

  “Then talk for fuck’s sake.”

  I pin him with my gaze, clenching my jaw and narrowing my eyes. I want him to see just how serious I am before I say what I came to say. Rollins looks back at me, drawing himself up to his full height—which is still several inches shorter than me—and tries to puff himself up. Rollins is doing everything he can to appear unfazed, but I can see the brief flicker of fear in his eyes. His attempts to look hard are comical, but I’m not in the mood for laughing right now.

  “You just going to stare at me? Or should I be picking up your message telepathically or something?” Rollins asks, his voice dripping with derision.

  “I just came out here to tell you to stay the fuck away from Hadley,” I tell him. “Next time I hear about you showing up out of the blue, you and I are going to have a problem. You understand?”

  He rolls his eyes. “I think she’s overblowing the situati—”

  “Hadley isn’t a liar, and she don’t exaggerate,” I cut him off. “She’s alr
eady told you more than once that she ain’t interested and wants nothin’ to do with you. So I’m here to put you on notice—stay the fuck away from her.”

  He looks at me for a long moment then smiles. “Oh, I see. You’re the one she told me she’s dating. I get it now,” he says.

  I manage to control the look of surprise in my eyes at his words. Hadley told him that she’s dating me? Automatically, my mind starts to pick her words apart, wondering if she was simply telling him what she had to in order to get him away from her. Or if that’s what she considers what we’re doing. I don’t hate the idea of her thinking that we’re dating. Not at all. In fact, I like it.

  “Look, man,” Rollins says. “We both know she deserves better than a dirtbag like you. She’s a beautiful, intelligent woman who seems to have a lot going for her. All you’re doing is dragging her down.”

  “Like I said, you turn up in her life again, we’re going to have problems. She told me she’s going to call your superiors, but I’ll make sure you never get that call.”

  “You threatening me?” he asks. “Are you actually stupid enough to threaten a federal agent right now?”

  “It’s not a threat. Just a statement of fact,” I tell him. “Understand this: you don’t show up in her life. You don’t look at her. You don’t even think about her. You do and I’m going to make sure you regret the fuck out of it.”

  “Hey, I haven’t laid a finger on her. So take your overprotective alpha male bullshit and fuck right off.”

  A wry grin curls a corner of my mouth upward. “You really aren’t anywhere near as hard as you think you are.”

  “We’re done here,” Rollins says. “Now step away from my vehicle or we really will have a problem. And lest you forget, I’ve got the law on my side. This badge I’m carrying lets me do whatever the fuck I want to do.”

  “Yeah, you keep thinkin’ that,” I reply. “Just remember, that badge ain’t going to protect you from the consequences of your actions. Play stupid games, you’ll win stupid prizes, Rollins. You got me?”

  My message delivered, I step back and give him access to the driver’s side door of his car. He walks to it, his hand still hovering near his holster, and uses his remote to unlock the door. He opens it and just before he gets in, I stop him.

  “This is the only warning you’re going to get,” I tell him. “You’d best start pretendin’ you have no idea who Hadley is. You understand me?”

  Rollins says nothing as he climbs into his ride and slams the door behind him. Blake and I watch as he starts the engine and shoots out of the parking lot in a squeal of tires and smoking rubber. I turn to Blake who’s got a wide smile on his face.

  “That was fun,” he says.

  “Damn straight.”

  “We need to do this more often.”

  I shrug. “I’ve got a feeling we’ll be paying Rollins another visit before this is all said and done.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Hadley

  “Please tell me you’re joking,” I say.

  Milo leans back on the couch and takes a drink of his beer, looking quite pleased with himself. He has a roguish grin on his face as he shakes his head.

  “I was very well-behaved,” he replies. “I went and had a very civil discussion with him. It was all very pleasant.”

  “Milo, your idea of a civil discussion has like nothing in common with an actual civil discussion,” I tell him. “It’s like movies saying they’re ‘based on’ something else. They bear little to no resemblance to each other.”

  Milo drains the last of his beer and sets the bottle down on the table. He looks at me with a frown on his face and a look of hurt in his eyes.

  “When you told me that I needed to get help, why did you do that? Why did you ask me to talk to somebody?” he asks.

  I take a drink of my own beer then clutch the bottle in both hands as I sit back against the arm at the opposite end of the sofa, staring at Milo. I purse my lips and look down at the bottle then back up at him.

  “Because I wanted you to learn to cope with your issues. Because I wanted you to be the best version of yourself that you can be,” I tell him.

  “So you think that by sitting down with a shrink and talking things out and learning to cope with my issues that it’s possible for me to change?”

  “Yes, of course,” she replies. “Of course, I believe that. It’s why I encouraged you to see a professional—because I thought you could change.”

  “Then why is it that you act like I haven’t changed a bit, even though I’ve been getting help for a long time now—and actually have changed?” he asks, a note of hurt in his voice. “Why are you still punishing me for my past?”

  I look down at my hands and frown at myself. He’s right. Even though I’ve acknowledged that he’s changed in a hundred different ways, if only to myself, I act like he hasn’t. And he’s right, I am punishing him for his past acts. I look up at him with an awkward smile on my lips.

  “You’re right,” I say. “You’re absolutely right. I have been holding your past against you. And I’m sorry.”

  He puts his fingers behind his ear and leans forward, a sly grin on his face. “Say again? Could you repeat that?”

  I throw one of the small couch pillows at him, and we share a laugh together. This transformation Milo has undergone is amazing to me. Back in the day, he would have beat Rollins to a pulp, federal agent or not. He wouldn’t have given Rollins the benefit of a discussion.

  He would have let his fists do his talking for him. He’s so very much the same but so different at the same time. It’s like in the time we’ve been apart, he’s managed to strip away all the bad parts of the old Milo, all the things I always had trouble with, while managing to hang onto the good parts—all the parts about him that I love.

  Milo’s rebuilt himself and has cast out his demons—for the most part. I know that sort of darkness is still inside of him. You can never really get rid of it all after going through what he has in his life. It leaves an indelible stain on your soul. But there’s no denying that he’s found a way to cope with that darkness and not let it take over and rule him like it used to. It’s a marvel to me and makes my heart yearn for him.

  Milo frowns and looks down at his hands. “I don’t know that it’ll do any good, to be honest,” he says. “But I wanted him to know that I was watching. That I knew what he was doing to you. I wanted to warn him that he had best not go anywhere near you ever again.”

  “I fear you’re right that it won’t do any good ultimately,” I say. “I’m thinking about calling his superiors preemptively, just to let them know what he’s up to.”

  “I think that would be a mistake. They protect their own,” he says. “And if he gets wind of you trying to cause trouble for him without concrete proof, he’ll come for you even harder.”

  I sigh and run a hand through my hair, knowing that he’s right. Milo gives me a smile that sets a flutter through my heart.

  “Don’t worry,” he says. “We will figure it out. We’ll find a way to fix his ass.”

  “My hero,” I say with a smile.

  I lean forward and get to my knees then crawl down the couch to where he’s sitting. I climb up his body and straddle him, locking my hands behind his neck. I look down at him as he trails his fingers down my back, sending a delicious shudder through me.

  Milo slides his hand behind my neck and pulls me down into a long, slow, sensual kiss. I quiver as his tongue swirls around mine languorously and feel myself growing instantly wetter. But I’m not alone in my arousal. Milo’s thick, hard staff is pressing against my warm center. I roll my hips, grinding myself against his rigid cock as our kiss grows hotter and more intense.

  I raise my arms as Milo slides my T-shirt up and off my body. He tosses it aside and trails the tip of his tongue down my neck, circling it around one of my stiff, sensitive nipples. A low moan escapes me, a tingling electricity crawling across my s
kin as Milo licks and sucks on one breast and gently kneads the other.

  I grind myself against him harder and faster, reveling the feeling of his cock rubbing against my already throbbing button. Milo and I always had a very healthy sex life when we were together, but ever since coming back into his life, I’ve been absolutely insatiable. It’s almost like I’m trying to make up for lost time, and I can’t seem to get enough of having him inside of me.

  Standing up, I wriggle out of my yoga pants, enjoying the way he devours me with his eyes. He looks at me like I’m the most beautiful woman in the world and that’s definitely something I will never get tired of.

  “Take off your pants,” I order.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  As I finally manage to strip out of my yoga pants and panties, I stand before him naked. Milo kicks his shorts off and leans forward, kissing and gently licking my belly. I push him back on the couch roughly and turn around. I sit down on his lap, laying my back against his chest. He grips my chin and turns my head, kissing me as I reach down and take hold of his cock. I tease my clit with the tip of his staff, my entire body trembling with the sensation of it.

  I nestle the head of his cock between my slick, velvety folds, and with a hard thrust of his hips, Milo sinks his staff deep into my molten core. I start to roll my hips, riding him as we kiss. Milo cups one of my breasts and slides his other hand down to strum my clit. I cry out as fire fills my veins, the sensation of having him buried so deep within me as he plays with my clit at the same time very nearly making me cum on the spot. I manage to hold off though, wanting to savor the moment and the emotions that are filling me.

  Milo continues rubbing my clit as he slides his other hand up and clamps it around my throat. I ride him harder, the excitement coursing through me building into a frenzy as he squeezes my throat just hard enough to send my lust into overdrive. I bounce up and down on his cock as Milo thrust his hips upward, plunging himself so deep into me that I tremble and gasp, the pleasure intense.

  Milo bites my neck and squeezes my throat even harder, the sound of his moans filling my ears and making me impossibly wet.