by King, Jayna
"Fuck!"
I guess it was a sign of my guilty conscience that I jumped a mile high when I felt Krystal come up behind me while I unlocked the door of my shop. She leaned against me from behind, tits pressed to my back, as she ran her hands around from my hips to the fronts of my thighs. Krystal was great for business at the shop, but goddamn, was she trouble in tight jeans. I left the keys hanging in the lock for a second while I closed my hands over hers and pushed them away.
"What's the matter? Already jerked off today?" Krystal pouted.
I opened the door and held it so that Krystal could enter. "Quit it, you fuckin' tease. I told you yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. I got a good thing going, and she's the jealous type."
"Yeah, yeah," she answered, as if she were already bored with the conversation.
I locked the door behind us since the shop didn't actually open for another couple of hours. Krystal came in early once a week to help me order supplies and make sure all of the paperwork was sorted out. You wouldn't guess it to look at her, but she was pretty damn smart.
Even though I had no intention of every hitting that again, I figured that it was okay to look. After all, if she didn't want men staring at her, she wouldn't dress the way she did. I watched as she pulled out the appointment book from beneath the counter. I was definitely looking at her best feature as I saw the Savage Sons tattoo on her lower back just above her jeans that barely covered her perfect ass. She knew exactly what she was doing as she bent over a little more, spread her stiletto boots further apart and looked back at me over her shoulder.
"Got your fill?" she asked with a wink.
"Yeah," I answered. "That ass and the fact that you keep my books from being a fuckin' mess is exactly why I pay you more than I should."
Krystal turned around and pulled the bottom of her tissue-thin deep v-neck t-shirt down, and I caught a glimpse of the edges of her hot pink lace bra that pushed her tits up. "It's nice to be appreciated, Moses."
I laughed and walked back to my office. That girl was a hot mess, and even though she'd been handed around to every member of the club, she could still turn me on, and she knew it. I shook my head as I realized that if I did manage to get out of the Sons, I'd be leaving behind a constant parade of women willing to do anything to hang with a member of the MC. And I did mean anything. As much as I wanted out, it was gonna be hard to say goodbye to pussy anytime, anywhere, any way I wanted it. I adjusted myself in my jeans and decided that I needed a piece of ass. It just wasn't gonna be Krystal's.
In the meantime, I needed to get some work done. I pulled out the business checkbook and started working my way through the stack of bills on my desk. I realized as the stack of checks grew and the pile of bills shrank that March had been a great month. We hadn't had a whole lot of business on the books, so one of my guys had taken the month off. I'd picked up some extra jobs, and with one fewer employee to pay, I'd ended up in much better shape than I'd expected. It was a good thing. I knew that it wouldn't be too long before I'd need every penny I'd been able to save over the last few years.
When I thought about the cash I had hidden in a couple of places at home, I felt better. When I'd first started hiding money -- not that I'd stolen it, it was mine -- I hadn't done it to fund my escape from the club. It was just that I had more money than I knew what to do with. My tattoo shop was pulling in huge profits, mostly in cash, which was pretty easy to hide from the IRS, and with my cut of the SS deals we had running, I just started stashing cash. Now that I was planning to leave, I knew I'd need the money to live, and maybe to get away in case things went wrong with the undercover fed. I hated not being in control.
My cell phone interrupted my work.
"Moses," I answered, surprised to see that Tombley was calling me for a second time.
"I met our girl," he said without any greeting.
"And?"
"She's sharp, and I think she's tough enough and smart enough to do the job."
"Why the fuck are you calling me, then?"
I smiled as I heard Tombley sigh, and I figured he was probably trying to ignore my rude comment. I knew I needed the guy, but that didn't meant I had to like him.
"She's mighty polished. It's going to take a lot of work to give her rough edges."
I laughed out loud. "That's pretty fuckin' rich coming from you, pretty boy." I really didn't care if I pissed him off.
"Look, Moses, we both have a lot at stake in this case. I'm calling you because I want you to meet her right away. If we can't get her sufficiently into character then neither of us has a shot."
He was right.
"I'm booked until about eight tonight. Can we set it up for after that?"
"She's just moved here, and she's single. I doubt she has plans. Let's plan on it. I'll call you with where and when."
I hung up and set the phone on my desk. Looked like it was gonna be a long day.
Chapter 5
Max
I walked through the door of my apartment feeling like a wrung-out, overloaded mess. I'd studied Tombley's files and been stunned at the scope of the Savage Son's operations. Not only had the size of their prostitution business grown substantially, but their crank trade had grown to overshadow everything else. It was huge, and it was locked up pretty tight. According to what Moses had told us, there were very few folks who knew all of the details, and even the people who handled just portions of the operation were loyal SS members. While there was always the possibility of lousy security or loose-lipped junkies, the SS had done a remarkable job of building their business and staying under the radar. Moses was the only reason we had a case at all.
I couldn't even wrap my head around how much work I had to do. I hadn't looked inside the files that held information about the individual members of the Sons, and I only had a couple of hours before I was scheduled to meet Moses himself. I weighed my options. I could either settle in with a glass of wine and get as far as I could in the files, or I could hit the gym to clear my head and shower before the meeting. I decided that the gym was my best bet.
I threw on yoga pants and a t-shirt and laced up my tennis shoes for the quick walk down a couple of flights of stairs to the gym in my apartment building. I didn't exactly enjoy working out, but I loved the feeling of accomplishment I had afterwards. I also slept better when I got some exercise, and I knew that with all of the information I'd tried to absorb that day that I had a very good chance of insomnia that night. I spent twenty minutes on the treadmill, twenty minutes with some light weights, and finished with a brutal twenty minutes on the elliptical.
Sweaty, tired, and much happier, I forced myself to jog up the steps toward my apartment. I took my much needed shower and tried to decide what to wear. We were meeting at the restaurant of the Hilton Garden Inn near the airport, which had seemed like an odd place to me, but when Tombley had explained that it would be full of folks from out of town and offered us all a relatively anonymous meeting place, it had made more sense. I'd have to get used to thinking about who could be watching me.
Remembering Tombley's fancy suit, I decided to dress professionally. Feeling pretty good after my workout, I decided to slip on some of the pretty new underwear I'd bought as a celebration of being newly single. I laughed as I realized that no one would see it, but ever since I'd been a little girl, I'd loved silky, lacy nightgowns and underclothes. I picked out a cream satin bra and underwear set that was accented with the most ridiculously gorgeous and expensive Chantilly lace. The contrast between the ivory and black was just gorgeous, and as I put on the underwear and turned to look in the mirror, I thought that the results of all of my exercise looked pretty good.
I put on a dark gray tank that was fitted but professional, and I slipped on the pants and jacket of my favorite black suit. Feeling a little sexy, I slipped on three-inch heels and decided that I looked pretty good, even if I was probably overdressed.
Since it was late and there was no traffic, the drive on
ly took about ten minutes, and I arrived in the parking lot a little early. I took the opportunity to flip through Moses' file before I went in. I flipped past the photograph, knowing that I could spend far too long drooling over the picture of the man, and what I found was sobering. He hadn't done prison time, but he'd been arrested more than a dozen times -- on charges ranging from assault to possession of narcotics to driving while intoxicated. I thought about Louie Greenberg and realized that Moses must have had a really good attorney.
The brief bio at the beginning told the tale of a man born with little chance of becoming anything other than a criminal. His father and uncle -- the founders of Savage Sons -- had been hell raisers their entire lives. Even before the club got into running girls, it was pretty clear that there weren't any rules in the SS clubhouse. About anything. Lizzie, Moses' mother, had been one of the girls who hung around the clubhouse hoping for the distinction of becoming a member's old lady. Even though it appeared that Lizzie had achieved her lofty goal, Moses' father apparently hadn't been a fan of monogamy, the evidence in the form of paternity tests and court orders for child support.
Captain, Moses' dad, had paid for a couple of trips to rehab for his old lady, and Moses had only been eight years old when Lizzie had finally overdosed on crank. I lingered over the newspaper photo of the funeral. The headline read, "Local club honors one of its own," and the picture showed a young Moses looking at his mother's grave. Captain didn't appear to be terribly distraught, and neither did the young woman at his side whose cleavage baring top hardly seemed appropriate for a funeral.
I checked the time and closed the folder. I felt completely unprepared to meet this man whose background couldn't have been more different from my own. I hoped that Jeff Tombley was as good as everyone seemed to think, because at that moment, I had absolutely zero confidence that I could pull this job off.
I looked in my car's makeup mirror and smoothed the wavy hair that I hadn't bothered to straighten after my shower. I knew that I looked fine, and I really couldn't put off walking inside any longer. Just before I opened my car door, I heard the sound of a motorcycle entering the parking lot. I decided to wait and see if I would have the chance to check out Moses unobserved.
Since the sun had gone down, the temperature had dropped pretty quickly, and when I saw the bike's headlight swing toward the hotel's entrance, I shivered as I thought about how cold Moses must be. I watched as the bike pulled into a space, and the matte black of the massive bike and of the rider's leather attire would have made them nearly invisible if he hadn't parked directly beneath one of the lights in the lot. I watched as Moses swung his leg over his bike, stood up, and removed his helmet. Even from halfway across the parking lot, the man was gorgeous. As he walked toward the entrance and I got a closer look, I was stunned. Chiseled jaw beneath dark stubble, broad, muscular shoulders, and a confident walk that bordered on a strut and made him look like a man who was used to getting his way. He walked inside, and I couldn't wait to follow.
Chapter 6
Moses
I nodded to Tombley as I slid into the chair across from his. He'd picked a table in the corner, and we both had a pretty good view of the entire room. He and I didn't have much in common, but we clearly thought about a few things the same way.
He checked his phone. "Max should be here shortly."
I just nodded and watched the door. It opened and the woman who walked inside looked like she belonged in a country club. This had to be our girl. Sure enough she approached the table and offered me her hand. I sure hoped she didn't expect me to stand up and kiss her hand or some bullshit like that.
"Moses," I said as I shook her hand.
She smiled at me, revealing perfect white teeth and a supermodel smile. "Max. Nice to meet you."
Max took her seat and I took the opportunity to look her over. She was tall, and I guessed that the sexy black heels she had on made her just a couple of inches shorter than I am. Her black suit looked expensive, and it fit her perfectly. She unbuttoned her jacket when she sat, and I got a better idea of what she'd look like without all the business wear. I tried not to stare at the way she filled out the tight top she wore beneath her jacket. This woman was no club whore who I could stare at with no consequences.
Tombley got the meeting started, and I was glad that I didn't have to figure out what to say to Max.
"Max, I'd originally planned for you to spend about a week getting up to speed on the case before I introduced you to Moses. I assume you'll take this statement in the spirit in which it's intended, but we have a little more work to do on you than I'd thought we would."
Max looked at Tombley as if she were puzzled. "What do you mean?"
I leaned forward, having decided that I was going to see how tough this chick was. "You don't look the part."
She laughed, as if what I'd said was ridiculous. "Of course I don't."
"Sweetheart, you may think this is a big fucking joke, but I can tell you that the Savage Sons will eat you alive if you go waltzing in there acting like a fuckin' debutante with a silver spoon up her ass."
Max leaned in closer to me and her voice dropped into a low, sexy drawl. "I ain't a fuckin' debutante, cowboy. And my ass is none of your concern."
I looked over at Tombley, and he sat back in his chair, arms crossed and a smile on his face. "Somethin' funny, Tombley? She's gonna get us both killed if she can't pull this off."
Jeff nodded, acknowledging the truth of what I'd said. "You're right, and Max knows just how high the stakes are. We have a lot of work to do, and I'm going to need your help earlier than I expected."
Max fixed her eyes back on mine, and I realized that hers were the most unusual color I'd ever seen -- the rich color of Jack Daniels with flecks of green throughout.
"Jeff thinks it's going to take a little work to make me look the part and be able to sound and act like your old lady. Since it's both our lives on the line, will you help me? I'll work hard and I won't let you down. That's my promise."
I looked at her, sizing her up, seeing how she'd react if I said nothing. She simply looked back, no expression on her face, patiently waiting for my response.
"You got a long way to go, lady. You ain't gonna like the way these guys treat you, and you ain't gonna like the way I treat you when we're with 'em. You're gonna have to see a bunch of shit you don't wanna see, and you're gonna have to put up with a lotta shit that makes your blood boil. You show one little bit of a sign that you think you're too good for these folks, and they'll bounce you out on your ass faster than you can believe, even if you are supposed to be my old lady."
"Understood."
"And I want the final say on if and when we move forward. You're not ready until I say you're ready. Got it? Both of you?"
Jeff and Max both agreed.
"You have a budget for clothes, right?" I asked Tombley.
"We do. I figured that we can't exactly put things on the Bureau's credit card, so I've requisitioned some cash. Max will sign for it tomorrow, and if you can take her shopping, we'd sure appreciate it."
I wasn't about to let this girl think that she'd be dragging me all over town looking for a purse to match her shoes. I looked at her hard and leaned in a bit. "I'll take you out, but you have to agree to a few things."
"Okay."
"I choose the places, and I choose the clothes. You may not like them, but you'll wear them."
Max sat up straighter. "I'm certainly interested in your input, Moses, but..."
"No buts. You wear what I pick out, or there's no case."
Max looked at Tombley, eyes pleading for him to back her up.
"Max, Moses knows what's going to fly with his crew. I wouldn't try to tell him what's going to look authentic to his guys."
"Fine. Your show," she said evenly.
I was a little surprised that she didn't put up more of a fight, and I fought a smile as I thought about the outfits I would put her in. She might feel differently tomorrow, but her lay
ers of clothes that covered her from head to toe weren't going to cut it with the Sons. I was looking forward to seeing what this princess would look like in tight jeans and a Sons tank top -- maybe a size too small. I felt like the room had just gotten a little warmer, and I changed the subject.
"Ever been on a bike?"
Max brightened up and flashed that smile at me again. "Jeff asked me the same thing. I haven't, but I'm looking forward to it! I'm sure it won't take me long to learn how to ride."
I shook my head and laughed. "Oh, you ain't gonna be riding alone. You're gonna be behind me on my bike. There's no way on earth you can learn to handle a bike convincingly in a week. You're gonna be my old lady, and when we pull in with you on my bike behind me, they'll believe it. Even that's gonna take some practice though. We'll start tomorrow."
"Fine."
She was a cool customer. No temper, all business. That was a good sign.
"I have a couple of appointments tomorrow. Can you be ready around 3? We can go for a ride and get you some clothes."
Max looked at Jeff and he confirmed that she could shift her schedule to meet then.
"After this evening's meeting, we don't want you in the office anymore, Max," Jeff said. "We have a couple of spots -- places we've rented where you can meet with the guys who will run the undercover op, but now that you've met Moses, we can't take the chance of someone seeing you walk into a federal building."
