by Teagan Kade
“Look at Jade Wheatley. That guy’s got no legs and he can still charge with the best of them. An injury like that is not a life sentence.”
“You don’t know Bo.”
“But I know you. Let’s all go, right now, be with him.”
There’s a loud rapping on the door.
Deacon looks to it. “I’ll get it.”
I watch him open the door, all of us surprised to find Sarah standing there.
She looks at Deacon, looks at me and Razor. “How’s Bo?”
Deacon nods slowly. “He’s okay. Razor said you called in the chopper?”
“Least I could do.”
“Well, thank you, from all of us.”
A look of concern comes over her face. “Look, I’m sorry for the intrusion, but I thought you should see this.” She passes her phone to Deacon.
I come up behind his back and stare down at the screen of the cell. It’s a newspaper article, a photo of Bo in his hospital bed front and center, leg hoisted into the air.
Deacon stands and comes over. “What is it?”
Deacon’s head snaps back to Sarah. “How long has this been live?”
She knits her eyebrows together. “Don’t you watch the news? It’s everywhere. Great white attack like that, you can be sure every news outlet in the country—hell, the world—will want a piece of your brother, like the shark didn’t have his share already… Sorry, bad turn of phrase there.”
Deacon drops the phone and punches the wall, enough to smash half of his hand through the plaster. “Fuck!”
Sarah looks to Razor standing behind me. “I don’t know what it is you boys are running from, but your secret’s as good as out.” She stoops and picks up her phone, tapping the photo of Bo. “Once this gets momentum, and it will, whoever’s looking for you is going to know precisely where you are. I don’t care if you’re hiding the Crown Jewels in there, you’re burnt and this town doesn’t need the trouble. Are you following me?”
Deacon runs his hands through his hair. “Loud and fucking clear.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
DEACON
There are about a million other places I’d rather be than a hospital, but Lux was right, Bo needs us all right now. To think I was trying to protect them from everything on land when the real danger was lurking in the water, not that I can blame the shark. It’s a predator, yes, but what it did wasn’t out of malice or hate. It was simply looking for a meal. Fuck, maybe it was just curious. In any case, Bo got off light considering what those creatures are capable of.
I look out the window of Bo’s suite, the harbor of Hobart crammed with boats and yachts.
I think about Lux and I smile, seeing my own stupid grin staring back at me in glass.
I have a lot to be thankful for, especially considering this. Maybe it’s the impending danger, but I’m taking stock and it ain’t so bad. Lux is back. She knows everything. It’s a big fucking weight off my shoulders.
“Are you listening to me, bro?”
I turn back to the bed. “Sorry?”
“Jesus, you’re spacing out and smiling over there like Captain fucking Picard. Here, have a look at this. That will put a smile on your dial.”
Bo shows me the weather section of a local newspaper. “Have you seen this, man? There’s a monster low building off the coast. Should bring a huge swell, maybe the biggest all century, they’re saying.”
I look out the window, the rain coming down but far from torrential yet. “Can’t say we’ve been following the weather much.”
It hurts to see him like this, his leg strung up and torso half-bandaged. The doctor told me he needed thirty-seven stiches. Given that, it’s a miracle he’s even this alert, but that’s Bo—tough as a two-dollar steak.
Bo can hardly contain his excitement. “I’d charge it for you, but if you haven’t noticed, I’m not going anywhere for a while, but you, you prick. You can do it, make history.”
In a way, the whole reason we came down here in the first place was to surf Shipstern during a big swell. “How big are we talking?” I ask.
Bo’s smile grows. “Fifty feet or more. I’m imagining fucking liquid buildings out there, bro.”
Big waves have never worried me. I’ve had a death wish for a long time, but now, with Lux…
“Do it for me,” he continues.
What the fuck? I supposed to say no to that? “We’ll see. We’ve got bigger problems with your story getting out.”
Bo puts his hands up. “I was asleep, man, knocked out. I didn’t even know that reporter was here. The prick just snuck in.” He looks to the window. “Anyhow, enough about that. How are things with Lux?”
“Better.”
“That’s all I’m going to get? Come on, bro. I’m sitting around here all day eating what tastes like recycled socks and watching daytime TV. Give me something.”
“Since when do you watch Oprah?”
He rolls his head around. “Hospitals, man. They fuck you up. I swear if I have to spend much longer in here I’m going to go Jack Nicholson madman on this shit.”
I hold his shoulder and squeeze. “We’ll get you out soon, okay? In the meantime, there’s a guy out there who’s going to be here twenty-four seven, a local we can trust, security. Your story’s bringing down a lot of heat. They’re going to come for me, but we need to be ready.”
“You’re posting a fucking security guard on me now? How much heat are we talking about?”
I shrug. “Who knows? They might send one like before or they might send a hundred. Whatever it is, we’ll handle it. We always do.”
“Don’t you do anything stupid, you hear? I’m not going to be the one half-eaten by a shark only to have you or Razor taken out by a stray bullet. That is not how we go down.”
I smile back. “No, it sure as hell’s not.”
I meet Lux in the waiting room, funnily enough the only room in this whole hospital that doesn’t seem to have any windows or natural light. Shitty light or not, she looks fucking hot right now in her favorite jeans and sweater, hair pulled back into a tight ponytail I want to hang onto while I ram into her from behind, her pussy milking me of every last drop until I’m aching and empty.
I’m almost tempted to suggest we head down the hall to find an empty supply room, but the place is busy. The last thing I need is a public indecency charge and more heat.
I take a seat beside her. She reaches over and takes my hand. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I sent Razor in to listen to his rambling. I swear to god he’d be back in the water already if he could find a way.”
“He’ll get there.”
I nod. “He’s a Hunt.”
“That’s not your real surname, is it?”
I shake my head. “No, it is not.”
“Your real name. Don’t you miss it?”
I’ve never really thought about it before. My sole concern was flipping our identities completely, not looking back on that former life. “How’d you even work this all out? Through your friends in the force over there?”
“I went to Millertown.”
The vending machine in the corner is buzzing, driving me fucking insane. “You did what?”
She pulls up her phone. “That photo on your wall? I took a snap of it, showed it around to see if anyone recognized you.”
And here I was worried about the danger locally. If Lux showed my picture around Millertown…
“It’s okay,” she continues. “I only showed it to a guy at a gas station who didn’t recognize you, but he did direct me to someone who did.”
“Who was that?”
“Storm.”
My anger starts to dissipate. If anyone, I’m thankful it was him, one of the last decent guys left in that shithole. She’s watching me carefully. “What did he tell you?”
“He told me everything.”
I turn away, focus on a poster for mental illness awareness. “You going to call me in? Police duty and all?”
&nb
sp; She places her hand on my shoulder, turns me to face her. “Of course not. I just wish you’d told me all of this earlier. I could have helped.”
“Help?” I laugh. “Do you know who these guys are? They’re fucking animals. One of the other guys who was with me, my deputy? They found him fucking scalped. I picture you like that and… fuck.”
“I get it, Deacon. I understand why you wanted to push me away, but I’m telling you I understand the risk and I still want to be with you, whatever it takes. I have contacts, people who can set you and your brothers up back home. Bo can get the surgeries he needs. We can do this.”
“In Witness Protection? We both knows that’s about as safe as a loaded gun. And what, pray tell, would I have to provide in turn? The money? Because you know what? I don’t have it. Never did.”
“You didn’t take it?”
“I’m not a criminal, Lux. You want to know what happened to that money, what really happened?”
She doesn’t reply.
“We burnt it.” My deputy thought we should take it, but I remained firm. I had no need for it, not with the inheritance from our parents. The other officer with us, Dean? He was old school, was behind me one-hundred-percent the only place for that dirty money was the fucking fire. We watched it burn to ash, all of it, and trust me, three-million doesn’t even look like they much when it’s all collected together like that, even less when it’s smoldering.
“The bikers? They’re not coming for their money. They’re coming for revenge. They’re coming to kill me and inflict as much pain in the process as possible for what I did. That’s why I couldn’t have you standing in their way, attached to me in any way. I can’t bear any more collateral damage from this. My deputy, the extra officer—that was enough. They didn’t deserve to die, not like that.”
Lux takes my hands. They look so small and tiny in my own. “I’ll say it again and this time I want you to listen, because you’re sure as hell thick as they come. I. Want. To. Be. With. You.”
I’m shaking my head. “There’s going to be trouble.”
“We’ll face it together.”
“Lives may be lost.”
“Not on my watch.”
I can’t help but laugh. “And who are you? Lara Croft?”
She smiles. “Nope, just a lean, mean, ass-kicking machine.”
I can only shake my head in return. “Easy there, Rambo.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
LUX
Deacon and I arrive home late. Razor was happy to stay at the hospital and said he’d meet us later on. I think he realized we needed some alone time, not that either of us has made a move.
It’s strange walking into this house empty, devoid of life and the masculinity that always seems so pervasive. “It’s quiet,” I note, watching through the front windows.
The rain abated as soon as we left the hospital, but still there lurks a building black and grey on the horizon. Even the air seems filled with electricity, with warning. The swell’s picking up. I can see it beckoning beyond.
Deacon comes up behind me, hands snaking around my waist, his package pressed tight against my ass still warm from the seat of his motorcycle. I didn’t even know the brothers had bikes until today. It’s not like they need that kind of transportation in a town where they can walk everywhere. That said, I enjoyed riding with him, my chest against his back, my thighs clamping his waist, the engine thrumming below us.
His lips brush my neck. “What do you see?”
I tilt my head sideways, expose more of my skin. “Something coming. Something… big.”
He thrusts himself forward, continuing to kiss down my neck. “Really? We’re all alone, you know.”
“Are you worried?”
“Worried?” he replies, a whisper.
“About the people coming to get you?”
“Of course, but there’s been no sign of anyone in town, no trouble yet.”
“But there could be?”
He reaches around and pops the button of my jeans. “Maybe, but for now I just want to live in the moment. Can we do that?”
I don’t need any more encouragement. I turn and kiss him, hold his face in my hands as our tongues roll and press together, the warmth and wetness between us suffocating.
He peels my jacket off and tosses it to the floor before he pulls my shirt free. It’s only a millisecond we’re separated, never wanting to break the kiss, the connection. I return the favor and, shirtless, we collapse to the carpet together snatching and grabbing, desperate to free ourselves of clothing.
My panties fly against the wall as I fish for his cock, drawing it free, lightly stroking it above my chest. He sinks down, his hot mouth closing over my nipple and pulling it in.
I gasp and grab at his hair with my free hand, everything suddenly turned primal and animalistic, pure action without thought, the carpet raw and rough under my ass.
His hard body hangs above me, the nipple in his mouth released wet and plump, his fingers wrap around my breast, the others moving down to cup my pussy, a lone digit breaking from the pack to slip inside.
I kiss him deeply, fingers matted in his hair. My back arches off the floor, the slippery fissure of my sex a furnace between my thighs.
I moan around his tongue, the hint of coconut and salt upon it, the smell of Sex Wax heavy but my arousal greater.
I’m so wet the carpet is growing damp below. He adds a second finger and my body arches towards him, my feet flattening as I lift my hips.
I’m sweating hard, losing track of time and place. “Deacon,” I call, barely audible.
He replies by sliding down my body. His hands shift under my thighs to splay my legs wide, the pink, juicy slit of my sex yawning open before his greedy eyes. He looks down at my bare pussy and smiles. “Do you even know how wet you are?”
“No,” I breathe, lifting my hips towards his voice, the need all-consuming.
Without warning he presses his face hard between my legs.
My head lifts and slams back into the carpet, tendrils of blonde falling across my face as his tongue extends and probes into the damp hole of my pussy. I clench my muscles and tighten myself around him, purring and twisting on the floor calling “Deacon, Deacon” over and over.
He holds the top of my thighs and presses my legs even wider apart to jam more of his tongue inside me. He pulls back and works up my inner lips, tongue pausing to flick and circle my engorged clit. I pant, barely able to breathe let alone summon the energy to speak.
I clutch at his hair, pull him into me, my back coming off the carpet hot and sweaty.
I curse at the ceiling, curse at the intense pleasure and sensation swimming upwards to my core from my clit, my hole wide and open desperate to be stuffed and filled.
He works the hood of my clit up with his thumb, his tongue shifting and pressing constantly against the tender nub until I’m not sure how much more I can take.
I want to come, I want to come more than anything, but I want to do so with him inside me. It’s been a week, all the sexual energy is about to overflow, and I’m scared, fucking terrified that when the flood does arrive I’ll be swept away, struck down by its intensity.
With a murmur of satisfaction his head lifts from the hot space between my legs. He looks up at me with puppy dog eyes, chin and lips wet with my desire.
I need a distraction. I sit up and kneel forward, pushing him back and taking hold of his rigid member, surprised at the heat coming from it and the pearl of pre-cum that hovers on its head.
He throws his head back. “Yes, baby. I want to feel your mouth on me.” He’s shaking, quivering in anticipation of what that cock will feel like in my mouth, my pussy. “This is for saving my life,” I tell him, right before I place my lips over the head of his cock and take him deep.
His hands lock against the side of my head, his buttocks hard and firm.
I work my tongue around his velvety, salty shaft, sucking and licking until he’s thrusting forward to mat
ch, to fill more of my mouth.
I hold my tongue flat and let him saw across its soft surface, letting him do the work as he starts to enter my throat.
If there’s one thing all the training we’ve been doing has gifted me with, it’s the ability to hold my breath. I take him deep into my throat, clench the muscles vice-tight around his shaft until he’s grunting and groaning above me barely able to hold himself off. His balls tickle my chin, pressed against my face as my lips close around the root of his cock and I take his entire length.
“Holy shit,” he announces, his cock settled comfortably in my throat.
I let out a soft vibration and he stiffens, but I don’t want him to come yet, no.
I pull him free, a bridge of spittle expanding and then sinking away between us as I turn and kneel away from him, my ass out and my pussy open and wet in front of his eyes.
I lower my cheek to the carpet and bend my back, beg him to enter me.
It’s all the invitation he needs. He angles his cock down towards my pussy and drives deep from the very first stroke. Holding my cheeks, he doesn’t hold back, filling me completely.
He lets out something halfway between a whimper and an exclamation, drawing out and driving back in harder, crushing himself against my tender lips.
“Uh,” I grunt, face sliding against the carpet, hands pressed out either side of my head against the onslaught.
This is what I’ve been missing, that deep and all-fulfilling feeling only a hard cock can provide. Only Deacon’s hard cock.
Deacon fucks me with everything he has, somehow finding places I never even knew existed inside me. My core clenches and releases. I build, drawing closer and closer to climax as the scent of our bodies coming together overpowers everything.
“Fuck me,” I mutter, voice as wet and lusty as the hunger between my legs. One of my hands snakes beneath me to strum at my clit.
Deacon lifts himself higher and fists my hair in his hand, lifting me from the floor, the burn of the carpet is hot on my cheek, but I barely notice it.
Poised over my back, he angles himself and drives deeper still, his cock bent inside my body and pressing right against my g-spot.
