Dude with a Cool Car (Concrete Angels MC Book 2)

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Dude with a Cool Car (Concrete Angels MC Book 2) Page 8

by Siobhan Muir


  This is so fuckin’ weird.

  It was. I’d never changed how I did things for anyone, not even Andrea. But I wanted to impress and please Karma with every fiber of my being. I needed her good regard and I’d do damn near anything to keep it. It was weird, but it felt weirdly right.

  Karma put on a tight leather halter-top with beaded fringe on the bottom and no back. It hugged her breasts so they became enticing mounds and my cock hardened in my jeans despite the two orgasms I’d had in the last two hours. Damn, the woman could keep me in sexual need just from walking past me.

  She also slipped into denim capris and some ankle boots with matching beaded fringe like her shirt. The boots had heels that pushed up her butt and made the already round globes even more sexy. I resigned myself to being a walking hard-on, though I definitely wouldn’t have blue balls.

  By the time we stepped out of her cabin, the sun had dropped behind the mountains and long shadows painted the ground in blue. I hadn’t realized how late it was, but I hoped I’d be able to stay the night with Karma. If not, I’ll find a cheap hotel in Fort Collins.

  Before we reached the clubhouse, Karma stepped in front of me, making me meet her gaze.

  “I want to get a few things clear before we face the rest of the clubmembers.” She licked her lips and it occurred to me she might be nervous. “I, uh, I’ve never brought one of my...partners in the lifestyle here to the compound. I’ve always kept my play confined to the club scene.”

  “Club scene?”

  “Yeah, you know, the BDSM clubs. I used to play a little more often, but I did it at Club Willow in Fort Collins. I’ve never brought a playmate here.” She bit her bottom lip with an unusual show of unease. “Not everyone knows my sexual lifestyle and I’ve never had a long-term boyfriend here. I don’t want you to stop being you or stop serving me, but I don’t want...”

  “You don’t want anyone to make fun of me or think me pussywhipped because I serve you.”

  “Yeah. Not everyone understands that the submissive has all the power in the relationship, and you choose to have me dominate you.” She ran her hands over my chest before she met my gaze. “I want you to call me Ma’am among them, but I don’t want to embarrass you in any way.”

  “Ma’am, I’m not embarrassed by being solicitous to your needs. And the only person I’m submissive to is you. And maybe Loki so he won’t kick my ass.” I grinned as she snorted with amusement. “But if you want to keep the nature of our relationship private, I can keep it subtle and not infringe on your authority. You’re the Enforcer and I respect that. Just remember that I can hold my own, too.”

  She gave me a confident smile. “I know you can and don’t let anyone treat you as less because they think women are supposed to be weaker than men. We both know that’s not true.”

  Hell yeah, I knew that. Women put up with and survived more shit than men ever did and they managed to succeed. Men would’ve given up and run away with their tails between their legs under the same conditions.

  “I know I’m not less than other men just because I serve you as my Madam.” I leaned forward but stopped short of her lips. “May I kiss you, Ma’am?”

  “You may.”

  I pressed my lips to hers as a new burst of satisfaction slid over me. Glory, I wanted this woman and loved touching her. And having her permission made the kiss even more electric. I loved so much about her, but I didn’t want to voice the feeling yet. It was too new and fragile to be spoken aloud.

  I stood back and smiled at her. She nodded and took my hand before we continued into the clubhouse. Something had shifted between us and a new confidence grew in the place of the newness. It had happened faster than I thought possible, but I refused to question it. I wanted this with Karma and I wasn’t about to give up on it just because it was quick and different.

  The clubhouse had grown rowdy in our absence and more people crowded around the two pool tables in the back while the booze and food flowed. Someone had set up a huge buffet table with a shit-ton of food on it and all of it looked like they’d hired a caterer.

  “Are you hungry, Ma’am?” My heart rate jumped up at the idea of serving her. She’d told me to tone it down while in public, so I wouldn’t do anything to betray her trust, but I could still get her a plate of food.

  “Yeah. You get the food and I’ll get the drinks. What’ll you have?”

  “Ice water.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Seriously?”

  “Yes, Ma’am. I want to be ready for anything and I can’t do that if I’m six sheets to the wind.” Plus I didn’t want to be drunk off my ass and say something to break my cover in front of this notorious biker club. That would be bad.

  She nodded and we split paths. I shoved the guilt to the side as I headed over to the buffet, grabbing two plates. I needed to be honest with Karma about my real reason for being here, but I didn’t want to lose the fragile connection we’d started. Not only that, but she was my way in to get more information about the Concrete Angels.

  Loki’s statements about where Hopkins and Eisenburg had been sending the money made me think the biker club wasn’t working for or with Backlog, but I wouldn’t be sure until I investigated thoroughly. I walked down the buffet, filling the plates as I thought over what I’d found out so far.

  As I picked the choicest items for Karma I found myself relieved that the Concrete Angels weren’t actually working for Backlog. I liked what I’d seen so far and didn’t want to be involved with a woman who had such low morals. Of course, I didn’t know her well enough to know all her values or what she was willing to do for cash, but she definitely had a code she followed and I hoped it coincided with mine.

  Sweet glory, let it coincide with mine.

  Cheers broke up my thoughts and I shot a look toward the pool tables in the back where cash was exchanging hands based on who’d won the latest game. I took the full plates toward a table with a good view of the pool tables and set them down, waiting for Karma to join me there before holding out her chair. She winked and smiled as she slid into the proffered seat and I settled across the table from her.

  “What’s going on over there?” I nodded to the crowd.

  Karma grinned and snorted. “Oh, it looks like Numbers is schooling someone at pool.”

  I craned my head to look as she set down a large tumbler of ice water beside my plate.

  “Numbers? The former FBI forensic accountant?”

  “Yeah. How did you know that?”

  I shrugged. “I heard it from Attila.” The crowd parted enough for me to see the woman I’d seen with Scott moving around the pool table with confidence and amusement as people slapped twenty dollar bills down on the table edge. She wore a leather cut with the words “Property of Scott Free” on it. “How’d she become Scott’s old lady?”

  Karma nodded as she ate something off her plate. “Yeah, she used to, but her boss, Agent Dirk Hopkins, raped her and got away with it. She left the FBI to start her own forensic accounting business, but he kept her under surveillance. She didn’t know that until we found bugs all over her apartment. Scott was furious. Numbers too.”

  “So how’d she end up here as his old lady?” I’d gotten the connection between former agents Oriana Hunter and Dirk Hopkins, but it didn’t explain how she’d ended up with the Concrete Angels. Is she a Backlog plant?

  “Well, that’s a kinda weird story.” Karma nodded to the woman commanding the pool table. “It turns out her “good friend” Melrose was the girlfriend of Roy, but Roy was an undercover FBI agent trying to get dirt on our club. Melrose had befriended Numbers and lured her up here to the compound when Loki needed someone to look into our embezzlement problems.”

  “That seems like a dumb move on the part of an undercover FBI agent. Especially the one actually embezzling from you.” In fact, that was downright stupid and undercover agents were generally the smartest of the bunch, me included.

  “I don’t think Roy actually knew Loki had asked
Mel to bring her friend up here, and I’m pretty sure Mel didn’t know Roy was undercover FBI.” Karma shook her head as she enjoyed her chicken parmesan. “But once Numbers got here, Roy made himself scarce. Numbers didn’t actually see him until after they found the bugs in her apartment. But she knew he was FBI right off. It was a huge mess.”

  “I’ll bet.” And it’ll be the same when they realize I’m with the Marshal’s Service.

  “She tracked the money and figured out Roy was skimming to send to the FBI. But when she realized the FBI had her under surveillance two years after she’d quit, she no longer had any reason trust them. So she turned over all the information she could find on their scheme to Loki and accepted Scott’s suit. It was very sweet.”

  I could’ve sworn I heard wistfulness in Karma’s voice, but she glanced down at her food before I could read her expression.

  “Loki said you hadn’t recovered all the money. Seems weird since Numbers is a forensic accountant.”

  “She is, and she found our money. At least, she found most of it.” Karma grimaced. “That’s why Loki’s taking a chance on you. Some of the money was shuffled back to the FBI’s coffers as if repaying them for their undercover agent’s expenses. More of it went into some “secret” off-shore accounts in the names of Arnold Eisenburg and Dirk Hopkins. They were making nest eggs off our income.” She rolled her eyes. “But some of the money disappeared. They sent it to some accounts that looked real only digitally. But when the banks were contacted, they claimed they didn’t exist, or our inquiry would be handed to the bank’s auditor, but they had a backlog of files to go through.”

  And there it is. The good old Backlog, hiding in plain sight. That’s where the money went.

  I nodded as I sipped my water. “How much money was sent into these fictitious accounts?”

  “Almost three million dollars.”

  I choked on my water, damn near spitting it across the table. “Three million? That’s huge.”

  Holy fuck. No wonder Backlog could infiltrate any law enforcement agency in the US and yet hide its presence. If they had agents in groups like the Concrete Angels, or worse, had the groups already in their pockets, they could finance their illegal activities for centuries and no one would be able to stop them.

  “Yeah, it is. Not exactly pocket change. But that’s why he’s taking a chance on you and offering a reward if you track our money down.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I can see why he wants someone to find the rest. He had Numbers track the rest of it, though?”

  Karma nodded. “Why?”

  “Tomorrow I’ll talk to her about where she looked so I don’t duplicate her work and have an idea of where to go from there.”

  Karma sipped her drink but dropped her hand on his arm. “Just make sure you meet her at her office here in the clubhouse. She doesn’t trust men much after her rape and neither does her old man. Scott won’t think twice about kicking the shit out of you if you scare her.”

  I lost my smile and nodded. “I hear you.” I couldn’t imagine the kind of struggle Numbers had to face each time a strange man came near her and I didn’t blame Scott for being protective. “I’ll talk to her tomorrow.” I tilted my head toward the tables. “Right now, it’s kinda fun watching her kick ass at pool.”

  It also gave me time to evaluate the woman. If she had a road name and an old man, more than likely her loyalties and priorities had shifted to the Concrete Angels. But given what I’d heard through the grapevine about her treatment after the alleged rape from the FBI, I wouldn’t blame her one bit. They’d hung her out to dry and allowed her rapist to stalk and watch her. My loyalty would’ve evaporated, too.

  Before Karma could respond, the mangey junior biker staggered up to our table and caught himself on an unoccupied chair, wobbling precariously. I rose half-way to my feet as he teetered toward the floor.

  “Whoa, man, are you all right?”

  The guy grinned and reached out to grasp my arm as the stench of beer and cigarettes washed over me. “Yeah, man, I’m great.” He listed dangerously the other way, but managed to get one leg straightened under his body. “I just wanted to thank you, man. Without you, I wouldn’t have gotten my cut forever and I’d still be just a scooter.” He scowled and shook his head. “Losers.”

  “Yeah, I know. You’re welcome.” I nodded, waiting to see if he’d fall or stagger off. “Happy to help.”

  “I got my new road name now, too. Did I thank you for that? It’s Gopher. Gopher Pyle.” He grinned and swayed. “Has a nice ring to it.”

  “It does.” I bit my laugh back, wondering if he was too young to remember the comic strip about another Pyle.

  “I just wanted to say thanks if I didn’t before and let you know if you ever need anything, like drinks or rubbers or whatever, I’m your guy.” He leered at Karma, though I’m sure he thought he was being sexy. “And since you’re fucking our Enforcer, I know you’re a good guy.” He reached out to thump me ineffectually on the shoulder. “I love you, man.”

  I snorted. “I love you, too.”

  “You’re awesome, you know that?” He turned to Karma. “You know he’s awesome, right?”

  Karma smiled. “Yup, I know, Gopher. Why don’t you find a friend to crash with tonight?”

  “Yeah, okay. Cool. Love you, man.”

  Gopher wandered off, his path making him look like a sailor on Cinderella Liberty after being stuck on a ship far too long. He knocked over a couple more chairs and bounced off a couch on his way back to the pool tables, and I winced in sympathy.

  “Did you tell him we were fucking?” Karma raised an eyebrow.

  “No, Ma’am. He got to that conclusion all on his own.”

  “Great. That should be around the entire club by tomorrow morning.”

  I nodded toward the tables. “I don’t think it’ll take that long.” Gopher leaned against a short man with a balding head and crazy eyes, waving vaguely back in our direction.

  “Yeah, I think you’re right. Might as well not fight it.” Her gaze heated and my cock saluted her hint of sex. “I have to work tonight. Parties are my gig and I have to keep the rowdy down to a minimum. You wanna help me make my rounds as Enforcer tonight?”

  I snorted. “As much as I’d like to watch you keep the rowdy assholes in line, I think I really should get started on finding your money. Mind if I stay in your cabin while you work? I promise to not go through your drawers.”

  She gave me a silken smile that set my heart pounding in my chest. “You better not, or I might have to reprimand you. Plus you might not like what you find.”

  “Oh yeah?” I grinned as we gathered up our dishes and took them over to the bins for collection. “Now you’ve totally piqued my interest.”

  “Hmm, will I have to chain you to the bed?”

  As much as the thought fired my blood in some weird way, I shook my head. I needed to get my laptop and check a few things, and I couldn’t do that if she bound me to the bed. Plus, I needed to check on my car. While I didn’t think the members of the Concrete Angels would do anything stupid to a fine piece of machinery, I didn’t trust they wouldn’t put a tracker or a bug on it.

  “No, Ma’am. I’ll behave and just do my research until you come home.”

  We both paused and looked at each other as the word “home” hovered between us like a snowflake, both beautiful and fragile at the same time. The world of the clubhouse faded away as I met her gaze and it held, the silence pregnant with hope and possibilities.

  “And will you be waiting for me to come home, Coop?”

  Her question made me swallow against the powerful yearning rising in my chest. Home. I didn’t have one and I desperately wanted one. I’d wanted one for years, but didn’t really understand the meaning of the word. I had to clear my throat twice to get my answer out.

  “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Her expression softened and the same yearning I felt in my chest sat reflected in her eyes. She pushed up onto her toes to br
ush her lips across mine and I moaned as I closed my eyes. She felt like home, even more so than the space she lived in. And I wanted more of that. I wanted her to be the place to which I returned.

  “Come on, Coop. Let me take you to my place. I have to get changed anyway. The drunks forget who I am when I’m dressed like this.” She took my hand and pulled me toward the front doors.

  Despite our little interlude, my shoulder blades itched with the feeling of being watched. I let my gaze slide through the room and caught Loki, Michael, the crazy-eyed bald guy, and Attila watching us before we disappeared through the front doors. So, they don’t quite believe I’m as innocent as I say.

  I didn’t blame them. I wouldn’t trust a guy who’d miraculously shown up with beer and a promise to help investigate just because he’d met a woman in the crew. And they shouldn’t trust me. My goal was to determine what had happened to the FBI agents and how deeply involved they were with Backlog.

  The silence outside in the yard was damn near deafening after the noise in the clubhouse, but the feeling of being watched disappeared. I let out a little sigh of relief but kept my eyes open for anyone around us. I wouldn’t put it past the leadership of the Concrete Angels to keep an eye on me. I’d have to be careful when I went to my car later tonight.

  “What are you thinking about?” Karma’s voice brought me back to where I was.

  I shrugged. “I was thinking of where I’d start in my search tonight since I haven’t talked to Numbers yet.”

  She nodded as we stopped at her cabin door. “I don’t have any suggestions because I’m not in charge of that part of our organization. I guess you could start with Eisenburg and go from there. He’ll lead you to his partner and maybe give you a hint of where else he sent the money.”

  “Dirk Hopkins.”

  “Yeah. At least, we think so. But the money went somewhere and they didn’t seem to have it. So, Loki thinks there’s a third party, someone we haven’t identified yet, who pulled Hopkins’ and Eisenburg’s strings.”

  She let us into the cabin and headed toward the bedroom to change. I stopped in the main room and let my mind wander over the information Karma and the others had given me. Not much that was new except for their belief in a third party. Backlog. It had to be them, and it reinforced my suspicion that the Concrete Angels weren’t working with them directly.

 

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