Magnum: A Dark Knights MC/Dirty Angels MC Crossover

by Jeanne St. James

  His face twisted in confusion. “How do you know?”

  The man’s reactions and words were throwing Magnum off. The more he talked to Gallo, the more he was doubting it was the slimy bastard who raped Caitie. And if it wasn’t him, then who the fuck was it? “Know ‘cause whoever was with her took video.”

  Nate’s throat convulsed and his words were choked. “Video of what?”

  “You know of what.”

  “Are you saying she was raped?”

  Jesus fuck, he had a hard time saying that word out loud. “Sayin’ someone did somethin’ to Cait she did not consent to. Was not able to consent to.”

  “That’s rape.”

  “That’s right.”

  Now he was done jawing and needed to start asking the hardball questions while watching Gallo’s face closely as he did so.

  “Want you to watch the video.” He didn’t. He really fucking didn’t. He had zero fucking investigative skills. This shit was so far over his fucking head. But he was going to do the best he could with what he had.

  He yanked his cell phone out of his pocket and stared at it, his blood already boiling, hoping he didn’t explode this time when he showed it to Gallo. Because if Gallo did it? If he was the man in that fucking video? If he was standing right next to the man who did that shit to Cait? And if he was in arm’s reach?

  Magnum’s life would be fucked. Her life, too. So he needed to keep his shit together. He needed to remain wound tight. Because if he began to spin out of control...

  Yeah, killing the fucker would be the last thing he did as a free man.

  And he’d only had one night with Caitie. That would never be enough.

  He pulled up the video he’d transferred to his phone and deleted from Cait’s. He sucked in a deep breath and braced himself. But as he started the video, he made sure to use his fat fingers to block Cait’s naked, lifeless body, leaving only the man and motion visible to Gallo.

  Gallo sucked in a sharp breath and Magnum pinned his eyes on the man’s pale face when he asked, “Recognize that man?”

  “I... No. I... I can’t see his face.”

  “Yeah, whoever it was was smart.” After checking once more to make sure Cait’s body was covered by his fingers, he narrowed his eyes on Gallo. “You took her home, Nate.”

  “Yes... I took her home, not to a motel. I swear.” The man’s neck muscles tensed and his Adam’s apple lifted and fell. “I would never...”

  “You asked her out.”

  “Yes,” Gallo hissed. “But I didn’t know she was seeing anyone.”

  “She said no. And you asked her repeatedly.”

  “Yes, but...”

  “That go against HR policy, Nate?”

  “Yes... but—”

  The video was now past the five-minute mark. Past the part where Magnum had lost it when he watched it the first time. He needed to watch the rest in case the man had slipped and showed his face or the video showed some sort of clue. Like clothes or jewelry. Or something he could work with. Or maybe something Gallo could identify. If it wasn’t him.

  “You were alone with her while she was drugged.”

  “I’d never hurt her,” Gallo said on a rough whisper.

  “But you want her.”

  “Not like that.” Gallo jabbed a finger toward Magnum’s phone.

  “You get off on screwin’ a woman who can’t say no? Who can’t fight back? Who doesn’t want you and made that clear?”

  “No! I would never—”

  Magnum kept pressing him. “Then who would? Who got that opportunity?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You were the only one with her alone while she was drugged.”

  “It wasn’t me. Maybe it was a stranger. Someone who broke into Cait’s apartment after I left. Or maybe she didn’t lock the door.”

  “Was she capable of lockin’ the door?”

  His throat worked again. “No. I should’ve made sure it was locked.”

  They were getting close to the end of the video. And close to the end...

  A loud groan came from the phone as whoever it was... finished. Something dark came into view but quickly disappeared.

  He hadn’t quite caught what it was.

  He forced his mind back to Gallo. To grilling him. Putting pressure on him to see if he would break. “And why would someone who was gonna do that to her take her to a motel? They could’ve easily done what they did right there. In her apartment. Don’t make sense, Nate.”

  “I don’t know. I have no idea how crazy people think. I know you think I did this, but I didn’t. I...”

  “You what?”

  “I love Caitie,” he finally whispered.

  Christ. His upper lip curled in a snarl. “Weird way of showin’ it, Nate.”

  “I swear...”

  “Yeah,” Magnum grunted, “me, too. Swear I’m gonna find out who did it. And if it was you...” He shrugged.

  “I don’t know who it was in that video, but it wasn’t me.”

  “Better hope not,” he said under his breath as Gallo rushed away.

  But right now he was really doubting it was. And he had no fucking clue how to find out who it was. He felt like he was helplessly holding his dick in his hand, not knowing what to do with it.

  As Gallo walked away, Magnum rewound the video to the spot where he’d noticed something strange. A possible clue. After the man shot his load, he bent over slightly to pull the condom off, but enough so a flash of dark hair came into the frame.

  He paused the video and compared the color to Gallo’s hair. It was close if not exact. But he couldn’t be sure since the lighting was different. Though, whoever it was had dark brown hair. So did Gallo.

  Coincidence? Could be, since a lot of the men who worked at Caitie’s agency had dark hair. And he had no way to know if it was someone who even worked with her.

  Gritting his teeth, he pushed Play once more. The man slid his hands over Cait, again gently, almost as if worshipping her, but they continued to slide lower.

  And lower.

  Magnum closed his eyes, his heart pounding in his throat, and hit the power button on his phone. He couldn’t watch anymore. He couldn’t see that. Because if he did, he could never unsee it.

  A searing rage rushed from his gut into his chest and he forced himself to put his phone back in his pocket before he dropped it to the ground and stomped the fuck out of it, imagining it was that man’s face.

  Chapter Eleven

  Cait’s back arched and she threw her head back, her blonde hair spilling around her shoulders. Her hard nipples played peek-a-fucking-boo through those long silky strands as she ground herself on him, her hips wicked and wanton.

  And he loved every fucking second of it.

  She had sat on his face after demanding he lie on his back and barked out orders at him, and he tried to control his grin as she did so.

  But he listened. Because what fucking man in his right mind wouldn’t?

  The woman had been horny after a few drinks while he suffered through an evening of bad karaoke where he wanted to poke his fucking eardrums out, and she point blank told him he needed to handle her horniness problem for her.

  That’s what she actually fucking said as she got naked.

  He didn’t argue.

  Instead, he just grinned wider as she straddled his face and planted her slick pussy on his mouth, squeezing his goddamn ears so tightly with her thighs he figured that was what it would be like to be deaf.

  She rode him until his face and lips were covered with her juices, and then after her climax, she slid down his body and right onto his already wrapped and waiting cock.

  And was still riding it.

  His fingers dug into her ass as her wetness dripped down his balls and into his fucking crack. As he ground his molars to keep from coming—since he didn’t want it to end—he couldn’t keep his eyes from her as she worked him hard, making him even harder.

  And the harder
he got, the closer he got.

  If she was concerned with the co-worker next door hearing them, she must have forgotten that concern because she wasn’t holding back. Not a sigh, not a moan, not a cry, not a whimper, not a drawn out, ear-piercing wail, either.

  And, even better, not his name, which she said often and not very quietly.

  Her nails now dug into his chest hard enough to almost draw blood as she rose and fell—her body swaying as she moved—all the way to the top and driving herself deep until she hit bottom.

  Fuck, this woman!

  The curve of her exposed delicate throat as her head tipped back called his name as much as she did. He needed to taste her there. Her pink puckered nipples screamed for his mouth, too.

  But again, he couldn’t stop watching her. He’d concentrate on those other things another time. Next time when she was under him and he was setting the fucking pace, making her squirm, making her explode around him, soaking him, then those tender, tasty spots would all be fucking his.

  Right now, he was all hers.

  All of him.

  And that should scare the fuck out of him.

  No should about it, it did.

  He had told her he couldn’t give her everything and that was still true. Would always be true. So, as much as he wanted to keep her, to claim her as his—not just for this week, but for forever—he knew... he knew he couldn’t.

  He was over forty and his life was settled. It was what it was. It wasn’t changing. Not ever.

  Being in her mid-twenties, she still had a long road to travel. So many things to achieve. And she deserved everything in life she could grab.

  He wasn’t going to let her settle on him and not get what she deserved.

  It wouldn’t be fair to her. And the possibility of her having even the smallest fucking regret would eat him alive.

  But for now, he had her. He could pretend it could be fucking different. But at the end of the week, he’d make sure she saw the truth. The reality.

  And he would have to accept it just like her.

  Until then, though...

  Fuck. Until then...

  They had two more fucking days and two more long nights...

  He needed to lock the sight of her, just as she was right now, into his memory.

  He had to store the memory of her on the dance floor, at the front of the boat, in the pool—all of it—away for the future.

  Dropping her head forward until her chin hit her chest, her green eyes opened, searching his, drawing him out of his thoughts and back to her. She circled her hips while her thumbnails scraped sharply over the tight tip of his nipples.

  “Mag...” she whimpered.

  “Yeah, baby?” he forced up his tight throat.

  “Mag... I’m going to come.”

  He couldn’t stop his smile, even if he wanted to. “Yeah, baby.” He was beginning to recognize the signs of when she was there. And it wasn’t because she announced it. Her pussy would tighten, begin to ripple, get even hotter and definitely get slicker around his dick.

  All of that, along with watching her reactions, pushed him closer to blowing his load, too. Usually, he wasn’t far behind. He was a fucking man after all, and the woman he wanted for years was riding his cock. Or sucking it dry, like she did that morning in the shower.

  Remembering the stretch of her lips, the way her tongue teased him, the way she squeezed his balls as she sucked him as deeply as possible while he did his best to stay on his feet along with watching what she was doing now, made his hips surge up, while holding hers down, slamming once, twice...

  She cried out his name again and he came at the same time she did.

  Thank fuck. Because it had been damn close.

  But if he would’ve blown the timing, he would have flipped her onto her back and powered through it until she caught what she was chasing.

  She rode out her orgasm, milking his dick with her hot fist of a pussy, then collapsed onto his chest with a loud, shuddered sigh.

  Their skin was slick with sweat, their breathing out of control, but she still tipped her face to his and gave him the biggest lazy, satisfied smile.

  And, fuck, if that didn’t pierce him in the gut.

  He fisted one hand in her hair, and drew his thumb over the upward curve of her bottom lip. “That right there, baby, is the most beautiful fuckin’ thing in the world.”

  That big smile became even more blinding. “No, you’re wrong.”

  He wasn’t, but he’d play along. “Then what is?”

  “It’s yours.”

  “No, baby,” he murmured.

  “Yes. You know why?”

  Again, he’d play along. He loved these moments with her where she’d tease and joke with him. At home, he didn’t get a lot of those. “Why?”

  “Because your smile is so rare, every time you give me one, it’s like a precious gift. It not only lights you up, but it lights me up inside, too.”

  His nostrils flared and his fingers tightened in her hair. He didn’t know what to say to that, so he didn’t say anything at all.

  She was right. He hardly smiled. Mostly, it was due to his serious responsibilities. He ran a biker bar, he protected his club, he enforced the rules. His brothers kept their asses out of slings most of the time, but there were plenty of times they didn’t.

  They also tended to do stupid shit when it came to pussy. And sometimes they entered territory they shouldn’t, chasing that pussy. Then he had to deal with another club, making sure his brother kept breathing and making sure that brother remembered the rules.

  Stacy, his former ol’ lady, made him happy for a while until she began to pressure him.

  Even though he’d given up, his thoughts would sometimes also slide sideways and thinking about his kids would ruin his goddamn day. So, he tried not to think about them. And that also ruined his goddamn day.

  Since he hadn’t seen them in over fifteen years—that last day he walked out of the courthouse with his thoughts dark and his heart even darker—being happy became a rare thing.

  But for some fucking reason Caitie made him happy. She was like a sliver of sunshine in the midst of a torrential rainstorm. A warm ray he could see, he could feel, but he couldn’t keep or hold. Eventually the sun went down or the clouds moved in and it began to pour again.

  This week, she was his ray. This week, she was his everything.

  But that wasn’t why he was there.

  He was there to deal with the person who tried to steal that warmth, to darken that beam of sunshine.

  And he was having none of that shit.

  Her breathing had slowed, and he was starting to soften and lose her, which meant he needed to do something about the wrap soon.

  But he didn’t want to move.

  “Am I crushing you?”

  Her weight on him felt good. “Never, baby.”

  “I don’t want to move. I love you being inside me.”

  He loved being inside her, too. “Can’t stay there forever.”

  When she leaned forward, he slid from her and quickly grabbed the wrap, slipped it off and held it until she finished kissing him.

  Which took a while. And he didn’t rush it.

  Once she was done and had burrowed under the sheets, he rolled from the bed to clean up and get rid of it, and also grab a wet washcloth to clean her up, too. He enjoyed taking care of her, even though she hadn’t asked it of him once.

  But it felt right.

  As he headed toward the bathroom, his eyes fell on the nightstand. He was down to two wraps and they had two days and nights until they left early Saturday morning.

  That wouldn’t do.

  Two would never be enough.

  He decided they needed to go for a drive since it was quite possible, those two would be gone by the morning. And he was not fucking her without one, even though she’d insisted she was on the Pill.

  He trusted her. But still...

  He couldn’t risk it.

 
One mistake and she’d be tied to him forever.

  And though he wouldn’t hate that, he knew it would be for the wrong reason.

  If Cait was going to be tied to a man, it needed to be for the right ones.

  Cait’s phone beeped loudly. Once, twice, three times in quick succession. She groaned and unwrapped her tangled limbs from Magnum’s. Though as she did, his big paw reached out, snagged her waist and pulled her back into him. But luckily, she’d had enough time to snatch her phone.

  She kissed his bare chest, brushed her fingers over the short, wiry, black hairs trailing down his belly and held her phone in front of her face.

  She sat straight up. “Fuck!”

  Magnum’s head lifted from the pillow and he rose to his elbows. “What?”

  Three texts.

  It only took three texts to scare the shit out of her.

  She should’ve known.

  She should’ve fucking known!

  But she was currently living in a comfortable, very pleasurable bubble, forgetting about the real world. Forgetting about Shadow Valley. Her father. The DAMC. And the Dark Knights.

  But the real world had found her.

  Those texts had popped that bubble like a sharpened knitting needle.

  “Who they from?” Magnum’s voice was rough, because they had both drifted off after their last round of totally mind-blowing, but exhausting, sex.

  And it was two a.m. Why the hell was she getting these texts now?

  “Regan.”

  “Who the fuck is Regan?” The sudden sharpness in his tone made her wonder if he was jealous.

  “My mother.”

  His head flopped back onto the pillow and he covered his eyes with his hand. “Motherfucker.”

  “I agree. And that’s being kind.”

  He dropped his hand from his face and yanked her phone from her fingers. He read the three texts out loud in his deep voice even though she could hear her mother’s shrill voice screaming out those words instead. “Who are you with at that retreat? Who is Malcolm Moore? Call me immediately.”

  He handed her back the phone and she tossed it back on the nightstand.

  “Ain’t callin’ her back?”

  “At two a.m.?” she shouted, her nerves about to unravel.