Steel Horses - Act 1 (MC Erotic Romance)

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Steel Horses - Act 1 (MC Erotic Romance) Page 6

by Chelsea Chaynes

Chapter 6

  It was cold out in the desert. Even though the sun was out, casting light on the ground below me, I still shivered. And the closest I was going to get to Colt was through my zoom lens, which peered out toward Needle Rock, staring at him, Beast, and Houston as they prepared to meet the Sixers for a drug transaction. My intel told me it would be heroin given that the Sixers moved bricks of it through South Los Angeles.

  The Iron Assassins were standing next to an unmarked black van, waiting. I snapped some photos for good measure. A white van pulled up, the faintest sound of its engine audible in the distance. The van was flanked by three black males on motorcycles, they all stopped but no one moved.

  It was a standoff. Colt walked toward the back of his van, opening it up. Two of the Sixers dismounted their bikes to inspect what was inside. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they shook hands. One of the Sixers dropped off a large duffle full of cash at Colt’s feet before he removed brick by brick of black tar heroin from Colt’s van and securing it in their own. Once the Sixers had secured their heroin, Colt threw the bag of cash in the back and shut the doors, transaction complete.

  Or not. I expected both parties to leave, but that wasn’t how it went down.

  Just as the Sixers were about to mount their bikes, Colt pulled a gun, killing all three. The white van that they’d come in sped down the road to escape. He aimed at the van, shooting out its tires, causing the van to swerve in the sand and tumble over. He wasn’t finished. Colt ran toward the front, killing the driver, passenger and another person riding in back, the three bangs of his gun echoing over the desert floor.

  Beast and Houston ran up to the van, opening it and feverishly taking their heroin back. After the last brick of heroin was recouped, the Iron Assassins tossed their handguns in the back of the black van. They rummaged around the back, pulling out automatic weapons and headed for the hills.

  The Vatos Locos crew came out nowhere. It appeared to be some kind of failed ambush, but someone had tipped the Iron Assassins off as they were armed and ready to kill. It was no contest. Colt and crew mowed the Vatos Locos down with their machine guns, leaving only one Mexican with his hands up, pleading for his life.

  Beast walked behind him and kicked out his knees. I wasn’t prepared for what I was about to see. It was a side of Colt I hadn’t been introduced too, and one I hoped I never would. Colt held the barrel of the gun at the man’s head and pulled the trigger, a red mist exploded outward coating him in blood.

  By my count there were thirteen dead Vatos Locos, six dead Sixers, and the Iron Assassins standing over the destruction, smiles riding their faces as they jumped into their van and bolted out of sight.

  My heart was pounding. What had I gotten myself into? Would that be my fate if Colt learned of my true identity? Even after all I’d been told of him, it was hard to reconcile the violent bloodthirsty man with the man I knew.

  I drove back to my house and uploaded the pictures to my computer. I compressed them in a file and attached them to an e-mail addressed to Damian. Once he got these pictures that would be the end of Colt Winters and the Iron Assassins Motorcycle Club. They’d all be serving life in prison for murder.

  I struggled hitting the send button. I didn’t want to. I hadn’t looked at the pictures yet, but there was a part of me that had to see, that needed to remind myself what the man I had fallen for was capable of. I opened up the computer directory and scanned through the images, one by one.

  Colt’s face was hard and cold in most of the pictures. It was purely business, transactional even. He looked comfortable killing. He wasn’t the warm and caring man I’d met at the Dusty Piston, or that I allowed into my house and body. Violence was his darkness and I could see that he was fighting it. I kept cycling through the pictures trying to reconcile my perception of him. I couldn’t.

  Perhaps I was doing the right thing after all? Perhaps outlaws like him deserved to be in prison, after all that’s why I took this fucking job, as hard as it was to come to terms with it in this situation. It felt such a waste to know that his good side would one day rot away in an empty cell, weighed down by all the bad shit he did.

  I made it to the picture with Colt holding the automatic weapon at the man’s head, a smile on his face. How could he kill so easily? Another part of me wondered how I would fare in his shoes, with my life on the line. Only then did I realize that he was doing whatever was necessary to survive, and upon that realization I felt secure knowing that I was his. That he would do anything to protect me, from anyone. Would I be capable of the same? It took hard men like Colt Winters to do the nasty shit that one else could do, and that’s what I told myself. Perhaps it was a lie but it made me feel good.

  There was an honor in his work. I stopped being afraid, and as the fear left me, I noticed my groin yearning for his touch. I was wet for him. Hoping against all odds that he would show up at my doorstep again, ready to defile me however he wished.

  I put the pictures in my computers trash, and deleted them from my hard drive. Then I deleted the pictures from my SD card so that not a trace of the day remained. I pulled out the business card from my pocket that he’d given me and stared at it. I needed to talk to him, so I called him. He didn’t answer, my call went straight to voice mail. I didn’t leave a message.

  My anxiety ran me ragged. Why hadn’t he answered? Why hadn’t he returned my call? What if there was another woman?

  A few hours went by and he still hadn’t returned my call. I thought for sure he would have called me back after the ambush, but nothing. I stared at my phone, waiting for him to text me, or reach out in any way, but there was nothing from Colt, though Damian was blowing up my phone, angry as could be. I ignored him, certain that at any moment I would be relieved from duty. It was almost comforting. Almost.

  Night came with force. What if Colt was hurt? Or the rival gangs had taken revenge for the massacre in the desert? I tossed and turned in my bed, an uncomfortable anxiety preventing me from rest. That would make two nights in a row. I looked and felt like a zombie.

  I didn’t know what time I finally ended up sleeping, but I recall very clearly the moment I woke because I woke to Colt, sitting on the side of my bed, caressing my face. It was eight in the morning.

  At first I was startled, but as I opened my eyes and saw his face, I relished in the kind, gentleness of his touch.

  I grabbed the hand on my face, holding it tightly. “Colt, what are you doing here baby? You didn’t return my call, I was worried about you.”

  “Sorry Jessie, I’ve been busy. Club business. I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in. You really should lock your doors at night. Anyone could sneak in here. I don’t want to worry you, but if you’re seen with me, you could be a target of my rivals, that’s just the honest truth. Please lock your doors at night.”

  “You’re right. I’ve been so stressed out with work I forgot.” I looked him in the eyes. “It’s ok you let yourself in, I don’t mind. What’s up? Talk to me.”

  His eyes and face were filled with emotion. “Nothing. It’s just been a rough couple days and I missed you.” He crawled behind me, holding me tightly and placing his head on my shoulder. “You know it’s crazy, after my wife passed a couple years ago I never thought I’d feel the ability to love and trust again. And ever since I met you I cant help but recognize that that is exactly how I am feeling. I can’t explain it. There is something that calls me to you.”

  Hearing this tough, outlaw man in such a vulnerable position caused my guilt to soar. If he knew the truth it would kill him, and ultimately me. I turned toward him, taking off his cut. “Relax, baby. I feel it to.” I kissed his forehead.

  “I’m going t make love to you,” he said, pinning me against my mattress. He kissed me with an all-consuming passion I’d only dreamed of. “Tell me you want me inside of you, Jessie. That it wasn’t just a one time deal.”

  My body quaked under the weight of his. He brought his hand to my panties and
pulled them from my legs, and then he pulled my shirt from over my head, leaving me nude.

  “I want you inside of me,” I said, as he undressed himself. He laid his buff, nude body on my own, the contact of our skin warming us.

  He pressed himself inside of me. My eyes rolled back in my head, lost deeply in the pleasures of his body. The bedsprings squeaked and the headboard slammed the wall as he thrust. I grabbed at his back, driving my nails into his skin and across his Iron Assassins tattoo. I began to climax, and so did he.

  His manhood became harder as he reached orgasm, shooting a thick load inside of me. He collapsed on my chest and rolled to the other side of the bed, on his back.

  He caught his breath. “Are you ready?”

  “Ready for what?” I said, running my hands over his chest. “Ready for me to ride you until the mattress wears out?” I was ready for round two, my body hot and yearning for another roll in the hay.

  He laughed. “No. Are you ready to go to the beach? To get out of town for the day?”

  I didn’t know what to say. I had a meeting to debrief Damian later in the afternoon. “I-I-”

  He cut me off. “Let me guess. You can’t?”

  “I have a meeting later with my boss. I can’t miss it or I’ll get fired.”

  “Fuck it. Blow it off and come with me. It’s just one day. You’re not going t get fired. Someone as smart as you, you’re valuable. You can take a day for yourself every once in a while.” He leaned forward to kiss me.

  There was no way to resist him. “Ok. I’ll play hooky with you. I’m looking forward to it and have been since you first brought it up.”

  He smacked my ass. “Well go on then and get dressed!”

  I giggled. “Ok, Colt.” Aside from his bloodthirsty rage he was the perfect man.

 

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