Fuck.
If she hadn’t said she’d been drugged and he hadn’t recognized how lax and unresponsive her body was, it could have been any couple making a goddamn sex video.
But he knew it wasn’t.
He needed to figure out a way to find out who it was. Because whoever it was would fucking die. What they did to her revoked their right to breathe.
And he would be the one to make sure that happened.
But he needed to be sure. He wouldn’t take the risk of going to prison by taking out the wrong man and letting the right one still walk the fucking Earth. To be a risk to Caitie, to be a risk to any other woman.
During the night, he had rolled onto his back, taking her with him. And she’d curled around him, her arm hooked over his gut, her cheek on his chest, her breath sweeping over his bare skin.
And he held her there, kept her connected. In a silent way, assuring her he’d help protect her.
Because, for fuck’s sake, if he said it out loud, she’d probably deny she needed protection. She only wanted help to deal with the man in that video, but that was all she wanted. In truth, she was strong like her father.
She went to work every day with this person, and most likely was now on a retreat with him.
She was not cowering in fear, she was not curling up into a fucking ball in a corner, she wasn’t burying her head in the goddamn sand.
She wanted this guy, along with the video, dealt with because she worried he’d used it to blackmail her for some reason. But she needed it done carefully.
He got that.
He would do that.
And he would get satisfaction out of doing it for her.
She trusted him to handle it.
She also trusted him not to hurt her. And by claiming her, which was what every cell in his body screamed for, he might hurt her.
Not directly, but by causing issues with her family and among the two clubs.
Maybe it would be a bump in the road that would eventually smooth the fuck out, but it could also cause a complete derailing.
While he didn’t want to create enemies out of allies, he also didn’t want to alienate her from the people who loved her.
It would not make sense for her to give up many for one.
He could lay there with her in his arms, wishing, even pretending, things were different.
But they fucking weren’t.
He’d already lived a life of hurt and disappointment. Of being cut out of the lives of the ones he loved the most. He didn’t want the same for her.
He wanted so much better for her. And while he could give her a lot, he couldn’t give her everything.
So, it was best to offer nothing except for his help in this fucked up situation.
He just needed to hold himself to that. To not let himself take what he wanted.
But it was hard and so the fuck was he.
Having her plastered to him, her warm, soft skin, her long hair sweeping over his chest, she fit against him perfectly.
She was not petite. She became tall and curvy as she matured. She was in no way fat, but she wasn’t skinny, either.
She was fucking perfect.
Her cheek slid along his skin, until her face was tipped up, until her green eyes hit his, which tightened his chest. “You sleep at all?”
“Yeah,” he lied. “You?”
“Yes,” she returned the lie.
She tipped her head back down and he knew exactly what she was looking at. His cock was hard and throbbing under the sheet. There was no way to hide it so he didn’t bother.
It happened every morning, so it also wasn’t surprising. But he doubted that was the only reason.
Even after seeing that fucking video, for him, nothing had changed. If anything, it had made what he felt for her stronger. But it didn’t matter what he felt about her, or how she felt about him.
Nope.
Fuck.
He needed to get out of that bed, out from beneath her, because she was way too tempting.
Way too fucking tempting.
And if he even made the slightest move... Or if she encouraged him in any way right now...
If she knew how weak he was at that very moment...
The wall he was trying to keep between them would come crashing down.
But, fuck him, he didn’t want to move.
She felt so goddamn good in his arms.
She belonged there.
She owned that spot.
In truth, she could easily own him.
“Need a fuckin’ shower,” he grumbled, carefully extracting himself from her.
“Save some hot water for me.”
“Not gonna be a problem.” He was once again going to be taking a cold one.
He kept his eyes off the bed and focused on the door. Because if he saw her right now, laying in that bed, her eyes soft, her blonde hair a cloud around her beautiful face, he might not walk out that door.
And if he didn’t walk out that door, he was done.
Chapter Eight
He had fallen asleep again. Not during a massage but by the heated pool earlier while Cait swam and socialized.
It proved he sucked as a bodyguard. He was pretty fucking sure none of the Shadows would fall asleep while watching one of their assignments.
Guess he wouldn’t be handing his resume to Diesel any time soon.
And he hoped the DAMC enforcer wouldn’t be handing him his ass soon, either.
But Cait and a bunch of the other women from the agency had decided to spend the afternoon at the pool since the warm weather was still holding. And the pool water, even if it hadn’t been heated, was much warmer than the lake.
That was what they said and he’d take their word for it.
He had found a shaded spot where he could see the whole pool clearly since he was wearing another long-sleeved button down shirt. He would die if he sat out in the sun. And he also didn’t want his bald noggin to burn and refused to use Cait’s floral smelling sunscreen. Smelling like a daisy wasn’t on the day’s to-do list.
Now, he was where he didn’t want to be.
On a fucking boat.
Didn’t fucking matter it was a big boat.
It was still a boat.
If Caitie wanted to take the sunset dinner cruise, he was going on the fucking sunset dinner cruise. He would just have to make an effort not to fall over the side into the dark, deep and cold water.
Because drowning would fucking suck.
And right now, he wasn’t so thrilled everyone had gathered on the top deck of the steamboat to watch the sunset. He was assured once that was over, they’d head down to eat dinner and then dance.
Fuckin’ great.
Not only was he surrounded by water, he was unable to escape the bullshit after-dinner activities like he could back on land.
Because he was sure as fuck not dancing.
He was not.
Fuck no.
He double checked that Caitie was still occupied at the front of the boat with the other women, taking pictures on her phone of the sun that set every fucking day. Why was it more special now that they were on a fucking boat?
It wasn’t. It was the same damn fiery ball that disappeared every evening.
He headed down to use the head, and on his way back up to his spot where he could keep an eye on her, he got cornered by none other than Drew Gallo. This time not in a suit, but in pressed khaki pants, a pink polo shirt and that expensive as fuck watch, which probably cost more than Magnum’s custom sled.
Hell, it probably cost more than his house.
“How are things going, Malcolm?”
“Perfectly fu— peachy, Gallo.”
“Please, call me Drew.”
Magnum grunted.
“I heard there was a little disturbance in your room last night.”
How about that. “Saw a roach and was tryin’ to kill it.”
Magnum did not get the reaction he hoped.
“C
ait said your relative died.”
Fuck. He and Cait didn’t discuss a story. He didn’t even think anyone would have the balls big enough to bring it up. He should’ve known one or more of the Gallos would. “Yeah, that, too.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. Were you close?”
“Missed the roach by a hair.”
“I meant close to the relative that passed away.”
“Yeah.” He had no idea who in his “family” died. Something Cait maybe should’ve mentioned to him.
“The front desk said there was some damage to the room.”
Fuck. “Yeah. Gonna take care of that.”
Gallo nodded, his dark hair not even shifting, he had so much shit in it. “Good. Good.” He hesitated and Magnum braced. “We were a little concerned about Cait.”
If the man only knew how fucking ironic that last statement was. “Don’t be.”
Gallo turned toward the front of the boat and his eyebrows lifted. “My brother has an unhealthy interest in Cait.”
The sudden change in topic caught him off guard.
Magnum’s gaze slid from Gallo to where Cait was. And of course, Nate Gallo was sniffing around. Again. Yeah, the Gallos had some fucking balls. Probably because of money, not real courage. “Can see that.”
His urge to rush to Cait pulled at him, but he also wanted to hear what the Gallo standing next to him had to say about that “unhealthy” interest. Maybe he had some important info. And Magnum had advised Cait before stepping on the floating deathtrap not to accept food or drink from anyone but him.
But he kept a close eye on the younger Gallo’s hands, in case he pulled something out of his pocket to spike the bottomless glass of wine Cait had been sipping at along with the rest of the ladies.
“Made it pretty clear Cait’s mine.” Gallo gave him a wide-eyed look, so he added, “That she’s my wo— girlfriend.”
“Yes, well... I don’t think we were aware Cait was seeing anyone until yesterday. But, I’ve talked to Nate about it a few times since Cait joined our agency and reminded him he’s head of the HR department, and showing such interest doesn’t look good.”
“That right?”
Gallo’s lips flattened out. “But he gets away with more than most since he’s my father’s favorite.”
Now that was very fucking interesting. “Over his oldest son?”
His eyes narrowed. “Yes, funny how that works, right? I’m the eldest. I started working for the agency first, during summers, on college break, then full-time once I graduated from college. I know the ins and outs of the agency as well as my father and could easily step into his shoes at any time. And while all three of us were told we had to earn it, my brother is somehow working his way to the executive floor a lot quicker than me and with a lot less blood, sweat and tears.”
Magnum doubted any Gallo had ever worked hard enough to shed blood, sweat and tears. But, even so, somebody was jealous. Which meant tension between them. And that might mean Magnum could draw out further information from him about the night Nate Gallo took Cait “home.”
“It a race?”
Gallo didn’t say anything for the longest time. He finally sighed. “No. I guess not. We’re all working together to keep the agency successful and to build it even bigger.”
Bullshit.
Gallo patted him on the back. “Good talking with you, Malcolm. If you change your mind about golf, let me know. I’ve got a tee time tomorrow at ten, I’d love for you to join me.”
More bullshit.
Even if it wasn’t, he wasn’t going to be chasing little white balls in the grass. He wasn’t going to be chasing any balls at all. Except the ones attached to the man in the video.
Those he would crush.
Three hours later, after it had gotten dark, they’d eaten, and the dancing started, Magnum was sitting in his chair, his gut full after eating two main dishes and three desserts, his legs extended and spread wide. With his arms folded over his chest, he kept an eye on Cait as all the wine she drank, and was still drinking, had loosened her up enough to join some of the women on the dance floor.
While he was making sure she was safe, he also couldn’t pull his eyes from her, even if there was no threat. She was wearing a loose dark pink skirt that swirled up and showed off her long, perfect fucking legs every time she spun. Along with a lace top that showed just enough tits but not too much. She was smiling, laughing and having a great fucking time.
And he felt like a father sitting there making sure boys didn’t touch his baby girl. He was pretty fucking sure his face showed the same.
When the fast music slowed, the women dispersed, but before Caitie could make her way back to their table, she was cut off by a Gallo Magnum wasn’t expecting. Senior.
Cait didn’t look at all bothered by Hank Gallo asking her to dance and actually flashed him a genuine smile.
But Magnum still didn’t fucking like it.
He didn’t like any of those fucking Gallos touching her. But Senior, keeping a respectable distance between them, swept her expertly around the dance floor making her smile widen.
And if she was happy, so was Magnum.
Sort of.
What he didn’t like was Gallo Sr. leaning in and talking into Cait’s ear. Her smile faltered and she quickly nodded.
Before Magnum could get to his feet to find out what the fuck that was all about, the song ended and both of them headed in his direction, Senior escorting Cait with a hand on her elbow. The fact that he didn’t release it until they stopped directly in front of him didn’t make him a whole bunch of happy, either.
Magnum took his time rising to his feet, but when he did, he noticed he was quite a few inches taller than the older man.
“Malcolm, this is my boss, Hank Gallo.”
Her boss offered his hand and Magnum took it reluctantly. He didn’t normally do handshakes. He did hand clasps and shoulder bumps with his brothers and others. Not that fake shit.
“Hank, this is my boyfriend, Malcolm Moore.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Malcolm. We’re so glad you could join Cait on our little retreat.”
He doubted it was a pleasure. It was just more fake polite bullshit.
“Paul never mentioned Cait was seeing anyone.”
“Didn’t know that was somethin’ her boss needed to be aware of.”
Cait moved to his side and Magnum draped an arm around her shoulders while she squeezed his waist in a silent message.
“Oh, it’s not. But Paul and I golf together regularly and speak often of our families. He’s very proud of his little girl.”
Was the fucker hinting at their age difference? “Not so little.” And, for fuck’s sake, she wasn’t Paul’s little girl.
Another squeeze at his waist.
“No. You’re right. She’s all grown up now. And after graduating at the top of her class at U of P, I’m lucky to have her on board.”
Magnum’s eyes flipped from the old man down to Cait, who was avoiding his gaze. She graduated at the top of her class and still needed her stepdad’s influence to get her a job with his agency? Or was that what her mother and stepfather wanted her to believe?
“Yeah, me and her father are real fu— proud of her.” Her real father.
Hank Gallo inhaled loudly and said, “Well, I’ll let you two go dance. Cait’s such a great dancer and it would be a shame if you didn’t share a dance or two with her. We’ll be heading back to the dock in the next hour or so. I hope you’re enjoying the retreat.”
“Been a blast, Hank.”
He smiled. “Good.” He squeezed her shoulder. “Take care of her.”
Magnum bit back his response which would have been, “She doesn’t need taken care of, she’s a fuckin’ strong goddamn woman who can take care of herself. Wouldn’t need to be here at all if it wasn’t for your fucknut of a son who drugged and raped her.”
No, he didn’t fucking say it. Instead he kept his teeth clenched and only nodded.
“Dance with me?” Cait asked softly.
“Can’t dance, baby,” he mumbled.
“It’s a slow song. You only need to shuffle your feet.”
He stared down into her green eyes. Fuck. “You don’t shuffle your feet.”
She had some hot as fuck moves, which made it way too easy for him to keep his eyes on her. Him dancing with her by him only shuffling his feet would do her a disservice.
“Dance with me.” This time a demand but in a husky voice that made his blood surge.
“Caitie...”
She ducked from under his arm, grabbed his hand and tugged. If he dug in his heels, she would never be able to move him. But it was Caitie and he wasn’t digging in his heels. With a glance to the dance floor, he noticed couples moving around, holding each other close.
He could do that. He could hold her close like last night in bed. He could shuffle his feet.
If that’s what she wanted...
If it made her happy...
“No bitchin’ if I break your toes.” He reluctantly followed her to the center of the floor.
“Just don’t step on them.”
Right, that fucking simple.
She stopped, turned and stepped into him, snaking her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek to his chest.
All the tension he hadn’t realized he’d been holding onto disappeared with her in his arms.
Then she moved.
And she moved some more.
“Move your feet,” came muffled from his shirt when he stood like a statue in the middle of the dance floor.
Carefully and slowly, he moved his feet since he was afraid he would break her damn toes.
He shuffled in a circle, her softness pressed against him. He also got a good whiff of her floral scent. Whether it was her hair or her skin, he didn’t know. But he was starting to recognize it as Cait.
He pressed his jaw against her temple and pulled her even closer until there wasn’t even enough space to slide a piece of paper between them.
And he was okay with that... until he wasn’t.
Holding her that close, having her move against him... Her hips swaying gently, her tits pressed into his chest. Her hair tickling his nose. Her hands barely above his ass. The fingertips of his brushing the top curves of hers, too...
Magnum: A Dark Knights MC/Dirty Angels MC Crossover Page 11
