Hot Ride

by Kelly Jamieson

  This was not going to work. He’d thought things had gone okay, and then she’d pulled that stunt at the end of the night. She was going to drive him crazy.

  Ryan showed up on his Harley right on time Saturday morning and parked outside the door of Sera’s room at the Palms Motel. She closed the door behind her, made sure it was locked, and walked toward him. He sat astride the Harley looking intensely masculine and badass sexy, the motor rumbling between his spread thighs in his leather pants. He wore his helmet, his hair pulled back as usual, and he pulled off his sunglasses to look at her, his thick, straight brows lowered over deep-set eyes.

  She’d seen him a few times over the last ten days, back in L.A. where, as Ryan had predicted, she had done mountains of paperwork. The results of the drug analysis had come back from the DEA laboratory and showed the sugar sample Sera had bought from Zocco was the same sugar flooding the west coast, originating from the same place, the same laboratory.

  Then she and Ryan had attended a party at Vince and Carly’s home in an upscale suburb of Clover City, a sprawling Spanish-style bungalow with a swimming pool out back. Nice lifestyle. Although Vince worked as a sales manager at a car dealership, his drug dealing no doubt also provided funds for the lavish home and parties he liked to throw.

  She and Ryan had both settled down since that night at The Patch. The adrenaline rush of that night–the tension of the roles they were playing, the forced sexuality, and then that fight they’d gotten mixed up in–must have gotten their motors revving into overdrive.

  Now Ryan sat there on his Harley, looking at her, and his fiery intense gaze made her tummy quiver and somersault.

  She had to make this work. But why did he have to be so damn difficult to get along with? Why so perceptive? No wonder he made such a good undercover agent– talk about good gut instincts. No wonder he also drove his handlers crazy.

  “Ready?” The one word held a multitude of questions and she knew it.

  “Yeah.” She tried to infuse as much confidence into her voice as she could. The potential for violence on this run was huge. Put hundreds of gang members together with copious amounts of drugs and alcohol, along with guns, knives and other weapons, and it was just asking for carnage.

  Not to mention hours on a murdercycle. Her favorite mode of transportation. Right. She gritted her teeth as she climbed on behind Ryan, chills tracing over her skin beneath her leathers.

  After hours of sitting on that hog, Sera was profoundly grateful to finally roll into El Mirage and then into the parking lot of the Red Fox Inn. She resisted the urge to slide off the bike and kiss the hot pavement. Josh and another agent had been behind them the whole time, in a nondescript government sedan, and she glanced around. Where would they park? Where were they staying?

  She took in the rows and rows of choppers and all the bikers milling around outside the front doors of the inn, in their black leathers and DA’s colors. She swallowed hard. This was bigger than a night at The Patch with a few DAs or even a party at Vince’s house. This was DA chapters from all over California, Nevada and Arizona.

  And Dominick Casas was there somewhere. She was finally going to meet him face-to-face. Her stomach tightened painfully at the thought, which she’d been pushing to the back of her mind.

  She took a deep breath as she dismounted, removed her helmet and shook her hair out. The breeze caught it, like cool fingers stroking through her hair and over her sweaty scalp, and it flew around her head. She sighed with pleasure. When she lifted her head, Ryan was staring at her with hot eyes. Oh sweet Jesus. Not already.

  He turned, pulled off his own helmet and walked toward the hotel. DAs greeted him and shook hands as he walked, and Sera trailed after him, thighs shaking with reaction to the arousal she’d read in Ryan’s gaze. God! It was just an act!

  They checked in and found their room, and Ryan stood there, still looking dark and moody.

  “What is your problem?” Sera demanded, hands on hips. “Are you still pissed off at me?”

  He shook his head, rubbed the back of his neck. “No.”

  “Then why are you acting all grouchy? Jesus, you’re putting me in a bad mood too.”

  He paused, pursed his lips. His beautiful, lickable lips. She blinked, but maintained her aggressive posture.

  “I don’t want to be here this weekend,” he finally said.

  “Why not?” Was he still worried about her ability to carry this off? If so, he could just—

  “It’s my mom.”

  Again, a blink. “Your…mom.”

  “Yeah. She’s not doing so well right now. Hell. She’s dying. She has cancer.” His voice roughened.

  “Oh.” Her breath sighed out of her. “I’m sorry, Ryan. I didn’t know that.”

  He nodded, scrubbing a hand over his eyes. “Yeah. I went to see her yesterday and they told me she might not make it through the weekend. She’s been going downhill for months now. But…I had to come on this trip. We aren’t going to get another chance like this.”

  Her heart went squishy in her chest. For the first time, Sera saw him as a man with a life apart from his ATF career. A man with a mother he apparently cared about, a man who was torn between his job and his family. What other sacrifices had he made for this job?

  She crossed the room to him, stood before him and without thinking anymore about it, she reached her arms around his neck and pulled herself up against him in a hug.

  It was meant to offer comfort. Friendship. Sympathy. She didn’t know if he felt any of those things, as he hesitated, but he set his hands on her waist, then slid his arms around her and hugged her back.

  She pressed her face into the side of his neck, inhaled the crisp, fresh scent of him, the warm maleness of his skin.

  “She might die while I’m away.”

  “She won’t,” Sera murmured against his neck. “She’ll hang on. She’ll want to see you again.”

  She had no way of knowing if her promises were valid, but she wanted them to be, wanted things to work out for him. She could only imagine how guilty and sad he would be if his mother died before he could get back to be with her.

  Heat built between them as the hug lingered on, body pressing to body, breathing in tandem, hearts thudding together. There was no one else in the room. This was not part of their act.

  Then a rap at the door startled them apart. The door wasn’t closed all the way and A.J. and Vince pushed their way in. “Come on, you two lovebirds, you got all night for that,” Vince said with a leer. “We’re all going down to the bar.”

  With a glance at Ryan, unable to stop herself from contemplating the night to come sharing this hotel room with him after that toasty embrace, Sera pressed a hand to her stomach and followed the men down the long, carpeted hallway to the elevators.

  The DAs had taken over the patio, music blasting, the distinct smell of marijuana scenting the air, drinks being poured with abandon. A barbecue at the side of the patio smoked with meat grilling; Sera thought it smelled like burgers. She surveyed plastic tables and chairs shaded with colorful umbrellas, looking for any familiar faces.

  “Wanna talk to you, Tommy.” Vince came up beside Ryan and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We got some business to discuss this weekend.”

  “Oh yeah? Sure.”

  Vince turned to Sera. “You wanna go visit Carly, hon?”

  She took the hint and with a brief look at Ryan, she smiled. “Sure, sounds fun.” But she really wanted to stay and hear what business Vince had to discuss.

  She found Carly sitting at a table with Jessie and some other women, all of them well on their way to being trashed. But they were laughing and having a good time while their men talked business in the far corner of the patio beneath a wilting palm tree. Sera tried to keep a discreet eye on Ryan as she talked to them.

  “Did you like that sugar?” Carly asked her, not even bothering to lower her voice. Sera supposed it was unlikely any law enforcement–other than herself–was going to be sittin
g near them on the patio currently occupied completely by gang members. She was glad she’d switched on both her recording devices on the way down from the room.

  “Oh yeah. It was great. And I didn’t feel like eating at all.”

  “I know! I’ve lost ten pounds since I started using that stuff. Vince’s all happy.” She looked down at herself. “I wanna lose about ten more. I just can’t lose these hips.”

  Carly was petite on top, but had a definite curvy, pear shape. Sera wondered who she wanted to lose weight for–herself? Or Vince?

  “I love it too!” Jessie interjected. She patted her ample abdomen. “I’ve lost fifteen pounds.”

  “Can you get me more?” Sera asked.

  “Sure! We just gotta talk to Zocco. In fact, I think his big supplier is here this weekend.”

  “Really? Who’s that? We should talk to him. You know, I could definitely sell some of that to my friends in L.A.”

  Carly seemed unfazed by the suggestion. “You’d have to talk to them about that. It’d probably be okay as long as they get their cut.”

  “So who is the supplier?” Sera had to ask again, because Carly hadn’t answered that, but she hated having to push.

  Carly was either not so bright or loaded enough that she didn’t think much of Sera’s interest. “It’s Dominick. The president of the Oakland chapter? He’s a friend of Vince’s.”

  “Oh. Is he over there with the guys?” Sera nodded her head to where Ryan was deep in conversation with Vince, A.J. and Zocco.

  Carly looked too. She frowned. “No. I don’t see him. I’m sure he’s here, though. Don’t worry. We’ll talk to them later about it. Meanwhile–here, have a joint.”

  Sera froze in her seat, her beer halfway to her mouth. She could not smoke a joint. It was strictly prohibited for a federal agent to do drugs. She and Ryan had talked briefly about the possibility that this could happen, but now faced with it, she realized she had no idea what to do.

  Chapter Seven

  Ryan reined in the exultation rising inside him. Vince wanted him to do some deliveries for him next week, along with his Harley parts–cocaine and heroin. Yes! This was a huge break. This meant they trusted him enough to bring him into their criminal activities. He’d already bought enough dope from some of them to put them in prison for many years, but actually getting in on the organized crime was huge. They were getting so close to being able to nail these guys under RICO—the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act.

  He glanced at Sera across the patio, his first thought excitement at sharing the news with her. To his horror he watched her light up a joint.

  His gut tightened into a rock. Jesus Christ. It was all he could do to keep himself from bounding across the patio, over tables and chairs, to yank the reefer out of her mouth. She held it expertly between thumb and forefinger. Clearly she’d done this before.

  Anger raged through him, hot and sharp. Could they not have one night out without her getting into trouble?

  He had to pay attention to Vince and A.J., though. This was huge. He turned back to them, but energy pulsed inside him, made it hard to sit still.

  “Come on, I’ll buy you a beer,” Vince said, obviously intending to celebrate their deal. He led the way to the bar. Ryan watched Sera, talking and laughing with the other women. He scowled, but accepted the beer from the bartender. Vince held his bottle up, and Ryan clinked his own against it, grinned at the other man and then drank.

  “Sara’s gonna be working for me,” he told Vince. “She got fired from her job at the bank, and she’s been looking for something else.”

  “I heard that. Did she actually rip the bank off?”

  Ryan shot Vince a look. “I dunno, man. I didn’t ask her if she actually did it. She was never charged by the cops.”

  Vince laughed. “Banks have too much money, anyway. If she did it, good on her.”

  “Yeah.” Ryan laughed too. “Anyway, we’re getting along pretty well, so she’s gonna help with some deliveries, and with office stuff. I hate that paperwork shit.”

  “Yeah. Goddamn government.”

  “Yeah.” Inwardly, Ryan grimaced. This wasn’t the first time they’d had bizarre conversations like this.

  “Hey, Vince.” A.J. appeared. “You know that prospect–Sam something.”

  Vince frowned. “Sam Cogan?”

  “Yeah. Him. Someone thinks they saw him here.”

  “What the fuck?” Vince stood up and looked around. “Where?”

  Who the hell was Sam Cogan? Ryan watched Vince’s face darken into a mean, ugly look. Man, at times like this he was glad Vince was his friend.

  “Not here in the bar. But at the hotel. Why the hell would that asshole be stupid enough to come here this weekend?”

  He had to ask. “Who’s Sam Cogan?”

  Vince shot him a glare. “He was a prospect. Then he refused to uh…do something we needed done. We kicked him out.”

  “After we beat the shit out of him,” A.J. added.

  Ryan’s stomach turned over. “What did you want him to do?”

  Vince looked at him. And Ryan knew it was bad. They’d just invited him into their dope business, but if Vince hesitated to tell him this, knowing he wasn’t one of them, it had to be bad. “Just business,” he finally said. “I’m gonna look for him. Come on, A.J.”

  Shit. More trouble. That was all they needed. Ryan just hoped when they found the guy they just kicked him out and didn’t kill him.

  Left alone at the bar, he wandered over to the table where Sera sat.

  “Hey,” he said, dropping into a chair next to her. “How’s it going?”

  She smiled at him, and the haze of marijuana smoke surrounding the table was almost enough to make him high. Shit. He’d forgotten about that.

  He looked for the joint but it was nowhere to be seen. Done. She’d fucking smoked a joint while she was working. She was going to get them both canned.

  He scowled at her. “You been smokin’, hon?”

  “Um…yeah.” She glanced at Carly.

  “You know I hate it when you stink like that shit.”

  “I…I forgot.”

  “Don’t fucking do it again, okay?” He made his voice low, menacing. She nodded, looking almost afraid.

  “Yeah, sure, baby, I won’t.”

  Carly looked worried, like she’d gotten Sera into trouble. “It was just one smoke, Tommy. No big?”

  He nodded, still scowling, stroked his thumb over Sera’s bare shoulder. She’d taken off her leather jacket and wore a black ribbed tank top with the black jeans she’d changed into. For the first time he noticed the new tat on her upper arm. He stroked over it, examined the image. Jesus Christ. It looked like St. Michael. She was a walking death wish.

  He gritted his teeth and said nothing. Later. They had lots to talk about later.

  A.J. and Vince returned then, too quickly to have murdered someone, so he took that as a good sign. They said nothing about the former prospect.

  “Wet T-shirt contest going on out there,” Vince said with a grin. He looked at Sera, eyes tracing over her tits in the snug tank top. “You should enter.”

  She turned to Ryan, and the eagerness in her eyes almost undid him. “Can I?”

  He stared at her, speechless. She was truly going to give him a heart attack.

  “No!”

  “Oh, Tommy. Come on.”

  He almost choked. “No, babe.” He hardened his voice. “No one sees your tits but me. Got it?”

  She pouted. “Okay. Fine.” She folded her arms across those contest-worthy tits. And hell yeah–he wanted to see them.

  “Come on.” Vince urged them outside where the contest was taking place by the pool. Ryan shot Sera a fulminating glance and led the way outside, beer still grasped tightly in one hand, Sera’s small hand crushed in his other.

  By the pool, girls had gathered where an emcee was encouraging votes by applause. Ryan took in the sight and the female attributes on display,
glanced down at Sera by his side, who was grinning. “So you wanted to enter?” He slid his arm around her waist.

  Her crystal blue eyes looked up at him. He could have drowned in those eyes, just like the sparkling blue pool to their left.

  “Yeah,” she said, tossing her hair back. “I could’ve won.”

  His breath caught in his throat and he felt like he was choking on a chicken bone. She grinned. Christ. Every time she did something like that it knocked him back on his ass. Amusement tangled with arousal and the urge to drag her up to their room almost overpowered him. He needed to take that mouth, taste it, he had to have her…

  His cock hardened and lengthened in his jeans. Jesus, this was so bad. He was working, for Chrissake. He could not afford to be distracted by horny hormones. This had never happened to him.

  “What were you and Vince talking about?” she whispered back, nuzzling his ear. His skin buzzed with the sensation of her breath feathering over him.

  “Tell you later.” He let his hand slide down from her waist to cup her ass and squeezed. She squeaked and jumped. They exchanged a hot look with so many different levels of communication, Ryan didn’t even know what to think. The chemistry between them was all too real, whether either of them wanted to admit it or not, and while they could use it to their advantage, they also had to be damn careful things didn’t get carried away. Like Sera. Over his shoulder. His hand on her ass, carrying her up to their room.

  Fuck. Ryan swiped a hand across his sweaty brow. “Let’s move to the shade,” he suggested, nodding toward a table shaded by a big umbrella with a beer logo splashed across it. The four of them pulled up cheap, plastic chairs and sat down to watch the show, surrounded by hooting and appreciative applause as the contest got wilder and wetter and barer.

  Ryan shot glances several times at Sera, wondering how she was taking this, but she seemed relaxed, exchanging comments with Carly that he couldn’t hear.