“Mason,” I rasp.
He loosens his grip on my hair, scooting down my body so that his lips touch the center of my chest. He opens his eyes, lifting them to look up at me. “He will not touch you. I fucking swear that shit,” he announces.
“Okay,” I nod with a jerk of my head.
Mason shifts so that his hips are between mine and I feel his length press against my center. My legs automatically open and I moan when he lifts slightly, the head of his cock pressing against my pussy. Without a word, he slides inside of me, his gaze connected to mine and never shifting.
“This is only mine, Whitley,” he rasps.
Mason slides his hands along my legs, gripping the backs of my knees tightly before he spreads me wide. His knees sink into the mattress and his eyes move from mine to where we’re connected. He continues to slowly glide his cock in and out of me. My head falls back as my eyes close and I let out a long sigh as I accept him, the way he moves inside of me.
“Tell me, Kitten. Tell me you’ll never give this to anyone else, you’ll fight and scratch and claw to keep it for me, and me only.”
I’m not sure he truly understands what he’s asking me to promise, but I don’t question him. His voice is that low husky rasp, and his jaw is clenched tightly. I take him in, wrapping my hands around his forearms.
“You know, Mason. You know there’s only, you,” I softly say.
He grunts, his hips moving a bit faster, and faster, until he’s slamming against me with each stroke. Throwing my head back, I cry out as his pelvis grinds against my clit. I’m so close. My pussy pulses and my nails dig into his arms as I grip him. When I come, it’s slow, and hard, consuming my entire body.
Mason continues to move above me, but I’m floating, too lost in my own release to even notice when he’s climaxed. That is, until his weight presses against my own. His mouth touches my neck, kissing and licking my skin.
Wrapping my arms around him, I drag my nails up and down his warm back. His hips continue to slowly move, his cock drifting in and out in a hot sticky, delicious feeling, mess. “Only you, Mason,” I repeat. He grunts but doesn’t say anything else.
Slowly, he slips out of me, rolling onto his back, before he pulls me against the side of his body. “I’ll find this fuck, Kitten. I’ll find him and kill him,” he growls.
“I know you will,” I say.
I try to add extra conviction in my voice so that he can’t hear my doubt. It’s not that I doubt him, or don’t have faith in him, because I do. I know that he’s not only the man for me but a man that can and will protect me with everything that he is.
However, I also know that the Aryans are fucking evil, and they will stop at nothing to get what they want. If they want me, they will find me, and they will take me. They will not stop in their mission, not until every single last one of them is dead.
Mason nods, rolling off of the bed. He stands and stretches his arms above his head. I lick my lips, watching his muscles flex and move. I want to run my fingers through the hair on his chest, then down to the hair at his lower stomach. I want to touch his strong body, everywhere.
“Get up, throw some clothes on and we’ll head home,” he murmurs.
Lifting my eyes to his, he gives me a wink. Obviously, he’s seen me ogling his body, but I shrug it off. His body is mine, as mine is his, and I like to look at him.
Nodding, I sit up, stretching my arms above my head as well. I watch as his eyes drop to my breasts and he grunts, turning away from me and grabbing his jeans from the floor. Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I find his shirt and slip it on to cover myself.
The door flies open just as I’m tugging the shirt over my body and I let out a yelp. “The fuck?” Free shouts.
“Sorry, brother. We got news from Fish. Snake called emergency church.”
Turning around, I notice that it’s Crooner standing on the other side of the door. My face heats, hoping that he didn’t see any naked part of me, but then the embarrassment dies down when I realize that he’s talking about the compound in Texas.
I open my mouth to ask if everyone is okay, but he just turns on his heels and walks away. Free turns toward me, his brows knit together, and he shakes his head.
“You go down to the kitchen if you want somethin’ to eat. I should have a pair of sweats or something if you want to cover up. I don’t know how long this is going to be,” he mutters.
He’s completely distracted, and I’m surprised he’s offered to let me wear sweats, especially after the last time, when he required I go down in just his shirt and nothing else. Standing, I shuffle toward him, lifting my hand and cupping his scruffy cheek.
“Everything will be okay. Hurry back to me,” I sigh.
He nods, lowering his head brushing his lips across mine. “Got a gut feeling. Don’t leave the clubhouse,” he grunts.
“I won’t,” I promise.
A small smile tips his lips. “Tell me you love me, Kitten.”
Without a second’s hesitation, I announce. “I love you, Mason Kelly.”
Mason takes a step back from me, grabs his socks and shoes and quickly pulls them on, then takes his cut and throws it on over his bare back. I watch him walk away without a glance back at me.
I understand his gut feeling, because I have it too.
Placing my hand against my stomach, I groan under my breath. Something bad is going to happen. Something nobody will be able to stop, I can feel it.
FREE
Walking into the room, I take my seat next to Snake. The men filter in and once the room is full, and the door is closed, Snake calls our meeting to order. I glance around and notice that I’m not the only man looking around with curiosity. Something is going on, we just don’t know what it is. My gut screams that it has to do with the Aryan from Texas and that he’s made his way here.
“Fish called me about twenty minutes ago. He says the raid is complete. This time they’re holding the women and children for questioning. I think that’s how the guy and his bitch knew the compound here had been destroyed,” he explains.
I clear my throat, a little pissed off that as the VP I’m finding out about all of this shit at the same time as the rest of the men. “What’s happening to them once they’re questioned?”
Snake’s gaze finds me, and he lifts his chin. “The ones that are free to go will either be taken back to their Devils men and families, or to shelters.”
His words shouldn’t bother me. Hell, I watched a bitch die just a few days ago. But something niggles at the back of my mind. This has been one big confusing clusterfuck since day one.
“What is it?” Snake demands.
Lifting my hand, I scrub it down my face. “I don’t know. There’s something. I just don’t understand. They’re still targeting us, our women. They’re bound and determined to use them as their breeders, but why? They could get other bitches, bought and paid for, kidnapped, whatever. It has to be more than just some old vendetta. Most of the original fuckers that were pissed about the broken contracts are dead.”
Snake nods, and Crooner grunts along with a few of the other guys. “Honest to fuck, I think it’s just convenience now. They’re just fucking with us, to fuck with us. We’re easy. We won’t go to the cops or file missing persons, and in some cases, we don’t even know they’re missing,” he states, his eyes turning a few shades darker.
I know he’s thinking about the time his own woman had been taken. He had no fucking clue, in fact, he didn’t even question her being gone. He figured she ran back home to Georgia to lick her wounds. Assumed she’d be back to run the bar or sell it soon. He didn’t know she was being abused and tortured for months—nobody did.
“Seems like a lot of shit, focus, and attention on one small group,” I shrug.
Snake shakes his head. “They’re fucking crazy, you know that. They’re all about building numbers, hiding in goddamn bunkers, and blowing shit up. They ain’t right in the head,” he states.
&nb
sp; I nod in agreement. He’s got that right. None of those fucks are right in the head. I remember dreading having to meet with them face-to-face because they were not only a pain in the ass but unpredictable as well.
“So, what’s the plan?” I ask.
Snake lets out a heavy sigh. “We still don’t know where this mystery guy is. I don’t want to put everyone on lockdown, yet, but the women need eyes round the clock on them. As far as I know, he’s only after Whitley, but Hayden is of course on his radar, too, I’m sure.”
“We’re already shorthanded with part of the crew in Texas. No overnight runs until we get this shit handled,” I say.
Snake nods in agreement. “If you’re going to be away from your woman, set her up in a room here so she can be under protection. I’ve got the cops keeping an eye out for any strangers in town. We don’t know his name, or what he looks like. She was posing as a stripper so he could look like one of us. Stay vigilant. Shoot first, ask questions later,” he announces before he stands and calls the meeting adjourned.
The men filter out, all except Crooner, me, Motorhead, and Snake. “Have a smoke outside?” Crooner asks.
Lifting my chin toward him, I stand. Snake stands as well and together the three of us walk out of the church room, then the clubhouse.
“What’s up?” Snake asks as soon as the door closes behind us.
Motorhead clears his throat. “I’m bringing Esme in on lockdown,” he announces. All three of our heads whip around to look at him, simultaneously. “I need her safe, I’m going hunting.”
“Hunting?” I ask after a beat of silence.
He lifts his chin. “I’m going to hunt this fucker, smoke him out. I’m tired of these crazy fucks. I’m tired of our women constantly being scared. Enough is enough. We have five women now that have been abused by these sick bastards. No more.”
Snake lifts his arm, wrapping his hand around the back of his neck, his eyes aimed at his shoe. Slowly he lifts his gaze to Motorhead. “Whatever you need brother, you got it. Weapons, men, whatever,” he states.
Motorhead nods. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I just know I’m fucking over it.”
“I’ll help,” I announce. “Whitley can stay at the clubhouse too.”
“Free,” Snake warns.
I shake my head. “No, Motor’s right. We’ve had too many women affected by these assholes. Enough is enough. Whitley’s scared to death. She ain’t sayin’ shit, but I can tell she’s scared,” I admit. “She’s been through enough. Jack coming back from the dead was too much. I can’t have this sick fuck thinking he can mess with my woman, too.”
Snake’s gaze softens, and he lifts his chin. He opens his mouth, but Crooner speaks up. “I’m in too. Hayden can stay at the clubhouse with Easton. They’ll be safer there anyway. Anyone thinks they’re touching my woman again has another thing coming, and that thing is my pistol shoved up their ass,” he growls.
“So that’s it then?” Snake asks, his eyes dancing around. We all cross our arms over our chest and lift our chins, mumbling, yeahs. He sighs. “Fine, fuck it. I’ll hole Ginger and Evalyn up here too. I’m in.”
A resounding chuckle fills the quiet air. “Let’s get us a racist, string him up, and skin him,” Motorhead hoots.
“You’re a sick fuck, too,” Crooner, gags.
Motorhead grins widely. “I know, but I don’t give a flying fuck,” he announces.
We spend the next thirty minutes going over a plan. We don’t know who we’re looking for, but if he’s anything like his brethren, he’ll be holed up at some vacation rental or hunting shack on the outskirts of town.
We’re finding him, and just like Motorhead said, we’re going to string him up and skin him, probably even alive.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
WHITLEY
I’m standing in the kitchen, lifting a cup of coffee to my lips when Hayden slips inside. Her eyes meet mine and her lips turn up into a curved smile. “Hey,” she grins.
I bite the corner of my lip and don’t even try to fight the smile that I return. Glancing down at her, I notice that she’s dressed much like me. She’s wearing a man’s shirt, oversized sweats, her hair pulled up in a messy bun and no makeup.
“Where’s Easton?” I ask.
Her smile softens, and her brows knit together. “I left him with Lea, at Gracie’s place for the night. Crooner swore they were under complete guard, lock and key. As soon as this meeting is done, we’re going to go back and get him,” she explains.
Gracie walks through the kitchen door a few seconds later and my eyes widen. I know that she’s married, her husband is away in Texas, but she’s wearing a man’s shirt and she’s looking much like Hayden and me.
“Don’t. Don’t even ask,” she moans, lifting her hand to her head.
I pour a cup of coffee and silently pass it over to her. I watch as she brings it to her lips. I think about asking her details about her business, and if she needs help, but I decide against it. She looks pretty consumed with her own thoughts for the morning.
A few seconds later the kitchen fills with men. I look around for Free, but I don’t see him anywhere. Hayden steps close to me, wrapping her hand around mine and tugs me out of the congested room. I look behind me and watch as one of the men stands close to Gracie, his hand wraps around her waist as his head dips low in a hum of conversation.
“Hayden,” I hiss once we’re out of the kitchen.
Hayden shakes her head. “She and Fish. I don’t know what’s happening with them, or what will happen,” she whispers.
“What would happen to her if she was caught?” I ask.
Hayden’s eyes lift to mine and she pins me with a cold look. Her meaning is clear. What would happen to Gracie would not be pretty. I gulp, nodding my head in understanding as Crooner, Snake, Motorhead and Free walk out from the hallway.
Free’s eyes find mine and lock in, he doesn’t look anywhere but directly at me as he closes the distance between us. I can’t see anyone but him either. His hands wrap around my hips and he tugs me against his chest. His lips find mine in a hard kiss.
Stepping back, he wraps his fingers around my wrist and tugs me away from the group of people we were standing with and back to his room.
Once we’re behind the closed door, he locks it and looks at me. There’s something unreadable in his eyes, and I want to question him, but I’m almost afraid to even ask.
“You’re on lockdown. Hayden and Esme will be here with you, along with other’s I’m sure, but the three of you will be staying here a while.” Free announces.
“Do you know who he is, yet?”
Free lifts his hand, running it down his face before his eyes meet mine. I can tell, the sadness in his eyes gives him away before he can even speak. He shakes his head a couple times.
“No, Kitten. We don’t know anything. We’re going hunting though, and I want you here, protected while I’m gone.”
I don’t ask him what hunting means. I don’t need to. He’s going to find him, and finish this—finish him. Closing my eyes slowly, I know that whoever this stranger is, he won’t be the last to come. I still don’t think I’ll ever be safe, not as long as someone involved with the Aryans is breathing.
Free’s hand wraps around the side of my neck, it’s warm against my skin and he squeezes me gently. Opening my eyes, I look directly into his dark gaze. He dips his chin, brushing his lips across mine, but doesn’t deepen our kiss.
“I’ll find him, Whitley. I’ll find them all,” he swears against my mouth.
I gulp, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip before I speak. “I know you will, Mason.”
He rests his forehead against mine, his eyes sliding closed as he breathes, inhaling and exhaling a few times. “I’m going to the house to get all your clothes and shit. I don’t want you leaving here, do you understand?”
My head jerks in a nod. “I understand.”
Releasing me, he takes a step back and opens his eyes. He scans my
entire body, his lips tipping into a crooked grin. “Good girl,” he grunts. I watch as he slips past me and stands at the door.
I frown, noticing that he’s still shirtless, but he leaves without so much as a glance back at me. I’m not sure how I feel about him walking around, riding his bike, and in general showing off that chest that I admire so much.
I want to chase him down and force him to cover up, but I don’t. I’m pretty sure he would be pissed off if I tried that in front of his club. Instead, I walk over to the bed and sit on my hands in an attempt to keep from reaching for the doorknob.
Hours tick by. One-by-one-by-one, or maybe they’re minutes, but they sure do feel like hours. I’ve showered, and now I’m in a clean shirt and pair of sweats of Mason’s, but he hasn’t come back yet. My gut has that feeling again, that bad feeling.
Something is definitely wrong.
Unable to take another minute of being cooped up in this room, I open the door and walk toward the bar. I’m not surprised to see men and women milling around. None of the women are Old Ladies though, so I can’t really ask them anything. They’re obviously whores, in their short shorts and bikini tops.
My next mission is to find a man that I recognize. Glancing around, I don’t see anyone right away. I frown. There’s a commotion from the hallway and I see Snake run into the room, his eyes meet mine and what I see in them has my knees buckling. My gut screams at me, this is it, this is what I’ve been feeling, something’s happened to Free.
Someone catches me before I crash to the ground. I see mouths moving, but I can’t hear anything. Snake is in front of me and he wraps his hands around my shoulders, shaking me, but I can’t hear him. His mouth is moving, and I know that by the look and intensity on his face, he’s yelling, but I’m completely deaf, then everything goes black.
FREE
I load my bike into the bed of my pickup. I know that I’ll need to bring more than just a few changes of clothes for Whitley. Seeing as she doesn’t have much as it is, I’ll probably just bring everything she owns. I imagine she’s going to be stuck at the clubhouse for at least a few weeks.
Flamed with Courage: Notorious Devils (Cash Bar Book 3) Page 21
