by Chiah Wilder
“What a hot piece of ass,” said one of the bikers who wore the bottom rocker “Wyoming.”
Cara swiveled away from the big guy, her blood pumping and her heart beating wildly as the horror stories about gang rapes with outlaw bikers flooded her mind. This was very stupid, Cara. Thoughts of kneeing the big goon right in his swollen balls came to her, but she decided that wouldn’t be a smart thing to do considering the men outnumbered her twenty to one.
“I’m not part of the club. I’m a lawyer representing one of your brothers. I’ve come to give him some papers,” she explained.
“Fuck, we got ourselves a lawyer whore. Shit, we’re movin’ up, brothers,” a young, handsome biker said.
“We need you to help us, too, sweet butt,” someone yelled.
Realizing she was fair game like all the other women at the clubhouse, Cara tried to run back to her car, but the group started up their bikes. Twenty engines rumbled like exploding bombs. The Harleys’ headlights blinded her and she squinted, placing her hand in front of her face to block out the beams. The men formed a tight circle with their bikes around her. Looking like a deer caught in the headlights, Cara blinked rapidly, a cold sweat covering her body. Images of what-could-be flashed through her mind as her adrenaline spiked and her leg muscles tightened, readying to run. Moving her head sideways, Cara looked for a way to break free, but the bikers closed in tighter, hollering and hooting, pushing her back to the center. She had no way out.
* * *
As he drove up the road leading to the clubhouse, Hawk spotted the circle of bikes and a petrified woman dodging them. He hated shit like that. Fucking willing women was fine, but tormenting a woman like this was bullshit, and he had to stop it before it got out of hand. He wasn’t used to this shit because his club ran clean: no rapes, no beating women, no torturing. The shit unfolding in front of him enraged him, and he stepped on the gas.
As he approached the circle, his posture stiffened and he did a double-take. What the fuck? Cara? He saw her dressed in her tight-as-hell jeans and skimpy lace top, trying to break through, only to have a bike inch closer to her, her outstretched arms trying to keep them away. Terror filled her eyes, and as he watched her bottom lip tremble, his nostrils flared, his ears pounded, and he saw red.
Putting on his high beams, he headed straight for the circle. When they saw him coming, the bikers stopped, their engines humming. Noticing the VP patch he wore, they made way for him to ride into the ring. Blinded by the bright lights, Cara looked down at the ground as Hawk stopped his bike in front of her, glaring at each of the men. Putting her hand down, she glanced frantically around her until her eyes landed on Hawk. With clenched jaw, he stared at her.
“Get on,” he ordered, his thumb pointing behind him. Jumping on the bike, she put her arms around his waist as he peeled off, leaving a cloud of dust.
As Hawk drove fast through the canyon, the cold wind bit at their cheeks while Cara’s arms wrapped tighter around his waist, her legs hugging the bike and part of his thighs. Her wind-whipped hair stung against his face, feeling like hundreds of pin pricks. Leaning her head on his shoulder lessened her hair’s assault, but her breasts pressed against his back. As Hawk looked over his shoulder at her, their eyes locked. Eventually, he averted his gaze back to the road.
Having Cara on the back of his bike felt good, and her arms squeezing his waist and her tits crushing against him made his cock jump. Her vanilla-spiced perfume wafted around him. Her tight grip told him she was scared, but her body melding into his was fucking hot. He chuckled when his bike hit a bump and her hand slipped down past his waist, jerking away when it touched his raging hard-on. Having Cara plastered to him while riding was a new experience, considering she was the first woman he’d ever had on his bike. And he liked the feel of her; he could ride like this for hours.
Veering off the main road, he pulled into a small alcove hidden among the trees. The river’s rush echoed in the distance and an owl hooted, angry at having been disturbed. Cutting the engine, Hawk swung off his seat, watching Cara with a bemused smile as she fell back against the bike on wobbly legs. In one stride, Hawk was next to her, pulling her toward him and pressing his lips on hers. He fisted her soft hair and tugged her head back, allowing him deeper access into her mouth. She moaned and snaked her arms around him as she kissed him back with urgency.
As she nibbled on his lower lip, Cara used her fingernail to play with his ear. Groaning, Hawk embraced her, rubbing against her as she shivered and clasped her legs together. Her desire-filled eyes urged Hawk to tug her closer, and as he did so, her hardened nipples brushed against his chest. When her tongue pulled in and out of his mouth while she ground her pussy against one of his legs, his eyes widened, his breath caught, and a flush of lust throbbed in his body. He’d bet everything he had that she was dripping, and for several seconds, he held his leg stiff while she moved up and down, gasping.
“Be careful, babe. Shit like that is gonna get you fucked,” he rasped.
“I guess I better be careful. I saw how bikers can be,” she murmured while nipping his neck.
Remembering her frightened look, Hawk held her at arm’s length, scowling at her. “What in the fuck were you doin’ at the clubhouse?”
“I came by to show you the pre-raid photos and give you some paperwork.”
“Why didn’t you call me? I could’ve come by your place. What you did tonight was stupid.”
“Oh, excuse me. I didn’t realize I couldn’t go to your clubhouse without the risk of being raped. I guess I forgot to read the latest edition of How to Avoid Biker Attacks.” She tossed her head.
“You’re damned lucky I came by. Fuck, thinking about what could have happened to you pisses me off!” Hawk slammed his fist into a tree trunk.
“I’m sorry,” Cara said in a low voice. She brought his scraped hand to her lips and kissed his bruised knuckles. She leaned into him, whispering, “Can you forgive me?”
Hawk breathed out. “I’m not angry at you. I hated seeing you like that ’cause I know what could’ve happened. Promise me you won’t do anything like that again. If you wanna come over then let me know. I want you to come. I want you to see my world, but tonight was not the night. We’ve got several out-of-state chapters staying with us. It’s been crazy as hell these last two days.”
“Have you been crazy with them?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean with the drinking and the, you know, the women.”
Oh, yeah, that’s what I want to hear. She’s jealous. “I had too much to drink last night.”
“And too many women?” she asked in a small voice.
“Nah, I got plenty of offers, but the woman I wanted wasn’t there.”
“A girlfriend?”
“Not exactly, but she’s someone I’m interested in.”
“Oh.”
“She’s got a smart-ass mouth on her and can be a pain in the ass, but I like her a lot.”
“Does she like you?”
“I think so. I know she wants to fuck me.” Hawk, bending in close to Cara, grazed her earlobe. “Do you like me, Cara?” he whispered.
Flushing, Cara said, “I don’t know you.”
“Oh, you know me, babe, and that’s why you’re fuckin’ afraid.”
Cara jerked away. “I’m not afraid.”
“Baby, I make your heart race and your tits ache, and I bet if I put my hand down your tight-as-hell jeans, your pussy would be drenched.”
“Is everything about sex with you? Can we just have a normal conversation for once?”
“Babe, you’re the one who was dry-humping me a few minutes ago, and I loved it. Sex is normal for us, but what isn’t is you running away and hiding behind that fuckin’ pansy-ass you were with the other night. Why do you keep fightin’ me? You know you wanna fuck me, and I’m dying to fuck you, so what’s the problem here?”
“Where did you get off, coming up to me the other night and ruining my date?”
<
br /> “Date, my ass. I was saving you from that wimp. A sexy woman like you is wasting time with someone like that. He’s lucky I didn’t bash his face in.”
“I didn’t appreciate your intrusion.”
“I didn’t appreciate your insult by goin’ out with that fuckin’ suit.”
“You aren’t a part of my life. You’re my client. You have your own life, and so do I.”
“Do you believe the shit you say? If I wasn’t part of your life, babe, you wouldn’t have come out to see me. The photos are a lame excuse, and you could’ve called me, but you wanted to see me, baby. You wanted to make sure I wasn’t fuckin’ any whores tonight, and you caring turns me on like you can’t imagine. Be honest with yourself.”
“This is going nowhere. I see I made a mistake in wanting to share my excitement about the photos with you. I can get your case dismissed, if you care to know that. It seems all you have on your mind is pussy.”
“Watch your mouth, baby, ’cause you’re making me hard.” Hawk winked at her.
“Ugh, you’re impossible.” Cara walked to the Harley. “It’s late. I have to get home.”
“You’re gonna give in to your fear?”
“I told you, I’m not afraid. I’m tired. Please take me back to my car.”
Silently, Hawk and Cara rode back to the clubhouse, and he walked her to her car. “Drive safely,” he said, giving her a peck on the lips.
“We have to get together and talk about some things before the next court hearing. I have to know some stuff about your background.”
“Like what?”
“Personal stuff. Nothing big. I need to prepare an argument for court.”
“I don’t know why the court needs to know all that shit.”
“I’m the boss in this arena, remember?” He frowned, and she placed her hand on his arm. “It’ll be fine.”
Shaking her hand off, he said gruffly, “I know that.”
“Are you happy about the photos?”
“Yeah, knew it was a crock of shit. I’m glad you can prove it.”
“I’ll call you to set up a meeting for next week so we can talk. No kissing. No touching. Just talking, okay?”
Hawk grit his teeth. “You’re the boss.”
He watched Cara exit the parking lot then jumped on his bike to make sure she got back to Pinewood Springs all right. Seeing her in the circle, knowing what could have happened to her, made him realize that Cara was special to him. She was the first woman he ever cared for in his life.
He had to make her his.
Chapter Twelve
Cara hung up the phone. Her head was spinning. She had just spoken to Josh at the sheriff’s office, and he confirmed that motorcycle tracks were visible near the area where they found several of the murdered women’s bodies. The sheriff’s department had concluded there were enough similarities between the murders to indicate they were searching for a serial killer.
Convinced some of the dead women were victims of trafficking, she called her friend, Jim Lambert, an agent with the Colorado Bureau of Investigations. She and Jim had become fast friends when they met at a training seminar in Denver a couple of years prior, and whenever she was in Denver, she met up with him for a drink.
“You got yourself in the middle of a maelstrom, Cara. You’re dealing with some dangerous and sick people,” Jim said.
“Do you think a biker club is involved with all this?” she asked.
“My department has been investigating sex trafficking for the last two years, and yep, outlaw bikers are involved in it. I can’t tell you too much, you know, since it’s still an active investigation. No offense, okay?”
“None taken. I understand. Can you tell me if the Insurgents are involved in this?”
“The Insurgents? I’d be surprised. They have a stronghold in the Summit County area, but it’s been their territory for years. They’re not into this kind of stuff, but with outlaws, you never know. It seems the Insurgents have been waning away from the illegal stuff. Their monetary interests are in strip bars, ink shops, restaurants, and dispensaries. We know the Insurgents have a few medicinal and recreational dispensaries, and they also grow the stuff.”
“I can’t believe the state gave them a grow and dispense license.”
“They used a straw man. You know him. It’s your old mentor, Les Anderson.”
“Les is the guy who helped with the dispensaries? I didn’t know he was in that deep with the Insurgents.”
“Believe me, he gets a percentage. He’s not doing it for friendship. Everything is about money.”
“I think bikers are involved with the murders of the young women who have disappeared in my county for the last year,” Cara said.
“Really? I don’t know about that.”
“One of the murdered women has been identified by her sister. The murder victim was smuggled to the US and her sister talked to me about it. She said bikers were involved, and I’m wondering about the Insurgents.”
“If it’s any biker gang, it’s the Deadly Demons. They’ve been a pain in the ass to law enforcement for a long time. They do all kinds of shit, and they’re brutal. It sounds like something they could do.”
Cara took a second, trying to recall where she’d heard that name before. “Is the MC in Colorado?”
“Their main club is in New Mexico, but there are a few Nomads hanging around your area, and some charters in southern Colorado. The Nomads aren’t in your county because if they were, there’d be a gang war for sure between them and the Insurgents, but they have some Nomads scattered near Summit County. You know, I’d like to talk to the victim’s sister. I have two women here who are scared shitless, but willing to testify about their trafficking ordeal, and they also said bikers were involved. They’re in protective custody right now.”
“For some reason, some deputies in the sheriff’s office here are trying to pin crap on the Insurgents, and that’s how I first got involved. One of the guys is my client, Hawk.” She loved saying his name.
“Cara, you’re getting in close and that’s dangerous, so leave this to the professionals. These guys don’t play nice. If they catch a whiff that you’re playing amateur sleuth, they’ll come after you hardcore. I’m telling you this as a CBI agent and as a friend. You need to back way off.”
Goosebumps pricked her skin at Jim’s warning. She knew he was right. Playing Nancy Drew with the big guns wasn’t the best of ideas, and this wasn’t a script or novel she could write the ending for. She’d call her cousin, Eric, and tell him what was going on, and since he was a judge, he’d know what to do. Hopefully.
After making plans to have drinks with Eric later in the evening, she called Hawk. Ever since the scary-as-hell night at the clubhouse, she hadn’t spoken with him, and she missed hearing his voice. Annoyed when he didn’t pick up, Cara left him a message asking him to come to her office the following day so they could talk about his case. She needed to know something of his past so she could offer a sympathetic twist in her argument to the judge. Since the judge wouldn’t be excited to let an outlaw biker off scot-free, it was her job to paint a positive picture of Hawk’s contributions to society, like the charity runs he and his club did throughout the year.
Playing with fire was safer than digging into what was behind Hawk’s scowls and stony exterior. However, from some of his actions, she gleaned that Hawk wasn’t all hardness: wisps of hurt in his eyes when he saw her with Luke, genuine concern the night he rescued her from those drunken animals at the clubhouse, tenderness when he kissed her. She longed to peel back the layers of his rough exterior, no matter how pissed off he got.
Beep. Her phone startled her. Looking down, she read the text message.
Hawk: Tomorrow is good. What time? Where?
Cara: Meet at Latte and Such at 2. K?
Hawk: K
That was it, nothing more. What’s his problem? Maybe he was mad at her for the other night when she came on to him like a total slut, then freaked out a
nd ran home. Massaging her pounding temples with her fingertips, Cara wondered how her life had become so complicated in such a short time, and how Hawk always managed to invade her thoughts and body. She pondered whether she’d ever break free of him, and the big question, the one she avoided, was whether or not she wanted to.
* * *
Hawk couldn’t get Cara out of his mind. He had never felt like this with any other woman. He’d even let her ride on his bike, a fact that didn’t go unnoticed by his brothers, and they gave him plenty of shit about it. Jax and Billy kept riding his ass about being pussy-whipped because he was acting all glum and dreamy-eyed.
Shit, dreamy-eyed. I don’t even know what the fuck that means. If it meant having images of Cara always in his mind’s eye, then yeah, he was dreamy-eyed.
Hawk couldn’t blame the guys for giving him hell about the way he’d been acting lately. He couldn’t stand the way he was acting, either, so he needed to straighten out and distance himself; after all, his case would be over soon. He was the man, and she was the woman who, at the moment, was playing boss and liking it too much, for his taste. What she needed was a good spanking. But he didn’t want to go there. His brothers would have a heyday with his hard-on and no slut in the room.
What he needed to do was go back to his fuck-’em-and-leave-’em life, and she needed to go back to her princess tower. He could have ten women right that second, easy. Once his case was over, he would fuck her hard and rough, then move on to casual fucking.
He’d make certain of that.
* * *
“Why are you involved in this? Aren’t you supposed to be defending people after the investigation is over?” Eric asked Cara while they sat at the Regency Hotel bar.
“I got pulled into it, that’s all. I know people are trying to frame Hawk in the sheriff’s office. I think whoever is doing it is being paid by this other biker club, Deadly Demons.”
