Hail No (Hail Raisers Book 1)

by Lani Lynn Vale

The shirt was a good idea.

  Especially when I reached for both of her ankles and pulled her ass clear to the edge.

  “Very good idea,” I agreed.

  Her smile was wicked.

  “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she pointed out, lifting one eyebrow.

  I winked.

  “Am I?” I asked, circling one of her legs around my hips and pressing lightly for her to hold it there.

  She did, and watched me as I brought my free hand up and trailed the pad of my thumb gently down the lips of her exposed sex.

  She shivered, eyes on me.

  I didn’t know where to watch.

  Her eyes? Her hard nipples? The way her chest was moving up and down with her increased breathing? The way that her sex seemed to shine with the wetness that was leaking out of her?

  Fuck, but it was a lot to take in, and I wanted to see it all. Taste it all!

  I lifted one of her ankles up and pressed a kiss to the inside of it before dropping it onto my shoulder.

  With my free hand, I finished undoing my belt and then my jeans.

  The moment that the confines were loosened, I pushed them both down my legs, and watched her eyes as she found my cock.

  It was hard—so fucking hard that it hurt.

  The head was a thick, ruddy red that looked angry, and the veins that were pulsing with blood were prominent and full.

  She licked her lips.

  “You going to stick that in me?”

  I leaned forward slightly and let the head of my dick play along her slickened folds, up and down, coating first the head, and then my entire length, in her wetness.

  When I glanced up, it was to find her head thrown back, wet strands of hair sticking to her skin.

  Each time I let my tip slide against her clit, she would tense. Her nipples were hard as glass, and she was jerking, causing her voluptuous globes to jerk and jump with each of her movements.

  Not paying any attention to erring on the side of caution, but instead only thinking about what it would do to me to feel her sweet heat enveloping me again, I slid my cock to her entrance and stilled.

  My eyes closed of their own accord, and this time it was my head falling back as I slowly sank inside of her.

  Only intending to give her an inch, I couldn’t physically stop myself from giving her more when I felt her surround me—more and more and more until I was inside of her as far as her body would allow me. For now.

  My eyes were clenched tight, and I was having a hard time drawing oxygen into my lungs.

  Then I felt her nails dig into my thighs as she cried out, “Please!”

  I probably would’ve managed to hold still—to give her the time she needed to adjust—if she hadn’t started convulsing around me.

  Seemed she didn’t need the time, because just the act of pushing myself inside of her, and giving her my length, was enough to make her come.

  Her pussy started to ripple, and I couldn’t stop myself from pulling out, and slamming back inside.

  I did this only twice before I realized, once again, that I really should be wearing a condom.

  Really, I should be.

  I knew that I was clean. I was about a hundred and two percent certain that she was clean, but that didn’t mean that she was on birth control.

  In this day and age, I was endangering her with my inability to control myself.

  But I was blaming it on my dry spell. I was blaming it on Kennedy’s virgin pussy that just begged for me to do bad things to it.

  And if I was being completely honest, the idea of Kennedy swelling with my child would give me the perfect excuse to stay. I could be with her and not feel guilt every time I turned the goddamn corner.

  I’d then be with her for the sake of our child, not because I was selfish and wanted her there with me.

  But I was fooling myself.

  Fooling her.

  And she wasn’t stupid.

  So before I could come in her, I pulled out and jacked myself off over her stomach, gasping when the first spurt of come decorated right below her breasts.

  The second spurt went only an inch or so lower, pooling in the depth of her belly button.

  The third and final spurt hit the trimmed curve of her lower lips, mingling with her desire and mine, making an attractive concoction that I couldn’t quite help swirling my finger in, and bringing it up to her mouth.

  The sexiest things I’d ever seen someone do were the things she’d done with me.

  Come. Watch me. Change in front of me. Wash her fucking hair.

  But watching her lick my finger clean of my release and hers was enough to top the list of my all-time sexiest things list.

  “Fuck me,” I growled, eyes dilating and hands clenching.

  My cock was still throbbing with my release, and Kennedy’s chest looked flushed with desire.

  And I probably would’ve dropped down and given her my mouth, but my phone rang.

  “Shit.”

  She moved to stand, and I backed up, giving her room.

  Then she went for the towel, picked it up, and wiped herself clean while I reached for my phone.

  “Hello?”

  Chapter 19

  I may not be a Victoria’s Secret model, but I could pick one up and squat her.

  -Kennedy’s secret thoughts

  Evander

  “Hello?”

  “Meeting started five minutes ago, where the fuck are you?”

  That was Travis, and he didn’t sound happy.

  “Ran into a problem,” I said, eyeing Kennedy. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

  Travis muttered something and hung up, leaving me standing there, my pants around my thighs, staring at Kennedy as she cleaned herself of my release.

  I watched her drop the towel, and then walk out of the room, but only far enough that she could get to the bed and flop down on it, face first.

  My lips twitched.

  Buckling my pants up, I walked into the bedroom and stood over her.

  “Come on,” I ordered, hauling her up from her sprawled position by one ankle. “I have a company meeting, and I need to run by my place and change. And I would like to take my bike because it’s a beautiful fucking day out, and we needed to be there about five minutes ago…that okay?”

  She stood shakily on her feet, and her face was a mask of pleased tiredness. The look on her face, paired with what we’d just done, was enough to make me feel smug.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I’ll ride on your motorcycle with you. What should I wear?”

  I thought about that for a moment.

  “You have any leather?”

  She didn’t really need leather. More so she just needed pants, but I’d love to see her rounded ass in leather.

  Not that the stuff she wore wasn’t extraordinary enough, but the thought of seeing those rounded curves in something that was so tight on her ass that it was like a second skin—yeah, that did things for me.

  Things that shouldn’t be happening when I’d just had her, but oh well.

  It was what it was.

  “I have a leather skirt,” she said. “But no leather pants…which would be the only thing I would wear on a motorcycle. I’ve seen some crazy Facebook video footage of what happens when a woman wears a skirt on a bike.”

  I grinned and pulled her to me.

  “Yeah?” I asked. “What happens?”

  “People get a sneak peek whether the skirt-wearer wants them to or not.”

  My gut twisted.

  “Wear pants,” I grumbled.

  Her lips twitched. “Yes, Sir.”

  ***

  Twenty—not thirty—minutes later, we pulled into the driveway of Hail Auto Recovery.

  Instead of going inside like one would expect, I grabbed hold of Kennedy’s hand and tugged her along behind me, taking her not to the shop, but to the club next door.

 
“What’s this?” she asked, eyeing the club.

  It was one of the most popular places in the area and owned by Travis and Dante Hail.

  “I didn’t realize that a city limit sign could be in the middle of a city.”

  I looked over at where she was pointing, and saw the sign that read Jefferson, Texas City Limits. Population: 4, 206.

  “There’s a story there,” I said distractedly as I walked up to the door, grabbing Kennedy’s hand as I did.

  Atticus saw me, nodded his head, and then opened the club’s door without another word.

  We walked inside into a dark, quiet hallway.

  “Well, are you going to tell me this story?” she teased.

  I grinned.

  “Hostel used to be a dry town, and when we decided to open the club, Hostel’s city council flat out refused to allow them to have a liquor license. So they built the club—they, as in the owners, Travis and Dante—the next town over since they would approve the liquor license. That’s Jefferson, Texas.”

  “Was the garage always there?” She pointed behind her, I assumed to indicate the Recovery shop.

  “No,” I said. “When the business took off, they rebuilt it. But they wanted it in Hostel, and not Jefferson, because that’s where it was established. In the beginning, Dante and Travis, as well as Dante’s wife, started it out of their garage in Hostel. For a short time, they moved to Louisiana and opened another branch in Shreveport, but they no longer run that location. Though, the location still uses ‘Hail Auto Recovery’ for the name because it’s an established business there.”

  “Sounds confusing,” she murmured, stopping when we came to a door.

  I pushed it open, and the pulsing sounds of the club started to vibrate around us.

  “Wow,” she gasped. “I’ve never even heard of this place. It’s amazing.”

  I laughed. “The way you tell it, your sister’s the one who took you out and got you to see new places and things. You’re not really the type to go out and party. I can see why you wouldn’t know about this place.”

  I immediately felt badly about mentioning her sister, and the frown and sadness that entered her eyes was enough to make my heart clench.

  Fuck!

  Then she smiled.

  “My sister tried to get me to go out with her once to a club downtown, but I flat out refused. It’s not surprising that she wouldn’t tell me about this one.”

  I squeezed her hand and tugged her into me, wrapping my arm around her shoulder as I directed her into the back of the club, down a long hallway, and into the private quarters that the Hail crew, also known as the Hail Raisers, occupied when they were in the club.

  The moment I pushed open the door, Travis, who was on the front of the table leaning against it with his feet crossed, stood up.

  “Fucking finally.”

  “Sorry,” I muttered. “This is Kennedy. Kennedy, that’s Travis. I’ll introduce the rest to you once we’re through with the meeting.”

  I’d do it now, but Travis looked fucking pissed that I was late.

  Eyes wide, Kennedy nodded. “Okay.”

  It was how she moved closer to me that erased the scowl off of Travis’ face.

  The moment he saw that Kennedy was intimidated, he sighed and stood from his lean, offering his hand to her.

  “Nice to meet you, Kennedy,” he said, eyes intense on her. “Have a seat. This won’t take long.”

  I walked to the closest two open seats, which happened to be at the end of the table, and took a seat.

  Kennedy sat in the rolling chair and scooted up as close to the table as her chair allowed, and then placed her hands gently in her lap, waiting.

  I grinned, and then took the seat beside her, not scooting up like she did, but scooting back so I could plant my feet on the table.

  “Like hell it won’t take long,” Baylor grumbled, extending his feet into the chair beside him. “We need to figure this shit out before it gets too far out of hand.”

  Baylor was a Hail—an actual Hail, and not just a man that worked for Hail Auto Recovery.

  “Agreed.” Reed stood up and started pacing.

  Reed was also a Hail. He was military—home for a few days from what I’d heard—and he had a bad attitude that nobody wanted to get near. Although others may know why, I didn’t.

  I studiously avoided everything that had to do with him seeing as I wasn’t the touchy feely type and didn’t want to find out why the fuck he was acting like a complete asshole.

  Because asking people why they’re sad, or angry, or anything really, invited more talking on their part. That was something I wasn’t willing to deal with at this point.

  “We can talk about Dante some other time, boys,” Travis snapped. “He’ll hold.”

  I wasn’t sure that was true.

  It had taken Travis a few weeks to explain exactly what was going on with Dante, but once he had, I’d immediately understood why he wasn’t there anymore.

  His wife and children had been killed in a car wreck—a car that Dante’s sister had been driving.

  And within weeks of that happening, Dante’s sister, Amy, had killed herself because of her distress.

  So yeah, I didn’t need any further information on that front.

  I could see why Dante would want to check out, and as long as he wasn’t hurting the business, then I didn’t see a goddamn reason in the world why everyone couldn’t leave him the fuck alone.

  His brothers, obviously, had different ideas.

  I leaned back and sighed, wondering why exactly I had to be here for a meeting like this.

  There were a hundred different things I could be doing right now.

  Cleaning up my yard. Picking up a skip. Fucking Kennedy.

  None of those things could be accomplished here.

  “Fine,” Reed grumbled. “But don’t think that I won’t beat the shit out of you if you keep avoiding me.”

  My lips twitched.

  Reed was big, like Travis, but he was also about fifty pounds heavier and tolerated less bullshit.

  It’d be an interesting fight, that was for sure.

  “I have a new high-bond recovery, and I want to go over it before I assign it.”

  I was only halfway listening, my eyes studying the long strands of hair that were curling around Kennedy’s neck, when I heard the name and froze.

  “Balthazar Montes.” Travis’ eyes flicked up to meet mine the moment he said the name and watched closely as my fists clenched.

  He knew who he was to me. He knew that that man was no bigger than a piece of shit and someone that I would love to run over with my truck if I ever had the chance—even if I had to drive through the gates of Hell to get to him.

  “I’m sure some of you are aware of who he is…” Travis continued.

  Everyone in the entire room was aware of who Balthazar was and what he’d done to me. What he’d taken away from me.

  Luckily, nobody said a word as Travis explained why Balthazar was getting his car repossessed. My hope was that it was due to him being a complete moron.

  My luck was never that good, though.

  “Two people will take this skip,” Travis continued. “If you need help, or see it in town, don’t approach unless you have enough manpower. This asshole is dangerous and carries a shit ton of muscle with him everywhere he goes.”

  I knew that. That’d been the reason I hadn’t approached.

  It’d been the reason that little piece of trash wasn’t lying dead in an alley somewhere far, far away from here.

  “Understood?” Travis confirmed.

  There were a few grumbled yesses from the men and a “Yes, fucking Sir,” from Reed, even though Reed didn’t normally take skips. See, Reed was actually a doctor—an OB/Gyn, in fact. It was rare that he was in town, and even rarer that he would take a skip. I had a feeling that the only reason Reed was here was due to whatever was going down with Dante
.

  Travis shot him a glare, and Kennedy started to giggle.

  Causing me to smile.

  “Shh,” I whispered. “Travis is in a shit mood lately.”

  Her eyes turned my way, wide and surprised because she knew damn well that Travis could hear every word we said.

  “I think now’s the time we talk about hiring more people,” Baylor piped up, ignoring Kennedy’s giggling. “Without Dante here to help and Tate Casey in jail for the next three years, we need to hire more manpower.”

  My brows rose.

  That was news to me.

  I’d wondered where Tate was the last few weeks I’d been working again, but I hadn’t had enough time to ask any of them where he was. I’d just thought he was on vacation.

  He did that a lot. Sometimes he was gone for months at a time while he rode off into the sunset on his bike, and then he’d show up a month, sometimes two, later wearing a much happier smile.

  “What the fuck is he in jail for?” I barked, leaning forward.

  All eyes turned to me.

  “Shit,” Travis said, scratching his beard covered chin. “I thought you would’ve heard.”

  I shook my head. “Nobody talks to me anymore. They think I’m scary.”

  That earned another giggle from Kennedy, and I wrapped my hand around her ponytail and tugged lightly.

  “Quiet, woman.”

  She didn’t turn to me, but I could see the small smile on her face.

  “He was making a pick-up two blocks from the club and drove up on a couple gang members raping a woman. A girl, really. You know how he is about that.”

  I winced.

  Tate Casey was the gentlest man you’d ever come upon…unless it involved females.

  Nobody knew the full story, but we’d all seen the light switch on in his brain over the years that we’d been working with him.

  There was this one time, while we were doing a recovery together that had gone late—later than we expected, anyway—and we’d been there when the couple had arrived home.

  Since we’d been in an area of the yard with our lights off that was fairly deserted, they didn’t see us as they pulled in. Further, they didn’t see us at the back of the lot as they opened the trunk of their car and yanked a little girl out.

  A girl who’d been kidnapped earlier in the day.