Spades: Motorcycle Club Romance (Savage Saints MC Book 5)

by Hazel Parker

  I only did so once I knew his cock had fully finished and he had nothing left in the tank.

  “Sweet fucking heavens,” he said. “We need to do that again soon.”

  I laughed as I came up his body, trailing kisses up to his neck before I kissed his lips.

  “You don’t need to tell me,” I said.

  We both collapsed into the bed, my head resting on his chest. I may not have had sex in several years, but with Richard, the flow and chemistry were so easy and so simple that it was like we’d been having sex with each other our entire lives.

  I didn’t feel guilty about letting my thoughts look so far ahead. We both had the same goals and the same desires for each other. We just needed the time to fulfill those goals; aside from my father, I didn’t see any real obstacles to us becoming an item, and even that would eventually fade as a problem in time.

  “I like you,” I said, scratching his chest as I listened to his slowing heartbeat. “I really like you.”

  “I like you too,” Richard said. “Sorry I don’t have much else. I’m kind of dumb right now. My mind just got blown.”

  “Your mind?” I said. “Or your dick?”

  Richard smirked.

  “My head got blown. Better?”

  We both shared a gentle laugh before I cooed against his chest, snuggling up even closer.

  “Much better.”

  * * *

  We had sex one more time before we passed out for the evening. I set my alarm for six a.m., needing time to call an Uber to head home, change into work clothes, and then get through my Friday. I don’t think I had ever looked forward less to a Friday workday than this one; it was a reminder that for all the good I had with Richard, I couldn’t have him twenty-four seven.

  That was probably too clingy a comment, but after the sex we had, I was pretty certain Richard was feeling the same way.

  When my alarm went off at six, Richard was the first person to wake up. He gently pressed on my shoulders, and when I woke up, I had never felt more protected and safer in my life. Richard was a big man, and he was a big man who stood guard for me against the world.

  “Good morning, beautiful,” he said as he kissed my forehead. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Mmm,” I said, moaning awake slowly. “I think I was better awake last night. But yeah, I did.”

  I gently grabbed his chin and brought it in for a kiss.

  “So, how does this work? Having this room here?”

  “Perks of being a Saints officer,” he said. “We have these rooms here in case we need a place to crash for the night. Sometimes, we have parties that rage until late, or we’re just exhausted from work. I’d rather my men sleep here and wake up rested than try and get home drunk or tired. They’re small. Obviously, I don’t want them living here. But they’re private. No one outside could have heard us.”

  Thank God, I thought as I kissed him again. For how loud we were, I think the entire Las Vegas Strip could have heard us.

  “Do you want to test that right now?” I said as a slow smile came over my face.

  “As much as I would love to,” he said, “I think you have work to get to, do you not?”

  I playfully frowned.

  “You ruined everything,” I said before laughing. “I’m a Sokolov. I could go in at any time I want.”

  “True… but would your father see it as odd if you didn’t show up when you normally do? When is that?”

  “About eight, maybe seven-thirty if we’re having a particularly busy week.”

  “And are you?”

  I sighed. That gave Richard the full information.

  “I mean this in the best way for us possible, but you should go,” he said. “Let’s meet tonight. We can spend the night and not have to worry about an alarm. The thing we’re worried about is your father, right? Let’s avoid suspicion from him as much as we can.”

  I knew Richard was right. I just hated that what he was saying was right in the first place. Eventually. Either Dad will get over it, or you’ll move on. That’s how this is going to end.

  “OK,” I said, smiling. “You’re being a pain in the butt right now.”

  “I know,” he said, tossing the covers off of me. “But I’ll be a pleasure in the butt tonight.”

  “Bastard! I’m cold!”

  But Richard just laughed. I had to put my clothes on quickly to counteract the cold room. Richard, to his credit, did the same, but all that meant was that I had to stare at his erect cock as he put his jeans on last.

  “You know, I see that, and I can’t not act on it,” I said. “I mean, Christ.”

  “Think of it as foreshadowing,” he said. “It’ll be like that and then some tonight.”

  “Better,” I said as I grabbed my phone and begrudgingly…

  I was about to call an Uber when I decided to go with the better option.

  “Think you can drive me back to my place?” I said. “Since I’ll need to shower anyway, might as well have some fun on the way.”

  Richard arched an eyebrow.

  “You just want to get off again, don’t you?”

  “Oh my God, was it that obvious?”

  “You were as wet as the Hoover Dam, dear,” Richard said as he put his arm around my shoulders. “It’s OK, though. I knew you were into me then.”

  I rolled my eyes, but it was sweet in its own way.

  We got onto the bike a few minutes later, and though I didn’t orgasm this time, probably because I had jeans on instead of athletic shorts, it still felt really damn good. I told myself that the next time I got on a bike, I’d have to wear something lighter—who knew? Maybe I’d even wear a skirt or a dress that would let me rest right on it.

  In any case, when Richard got me to my house, I hopped off, leaned forward, and kissed him.

  “I said it earlier, but I want to ask again,” he said. “May I see you tonight? If it’s too early, I understand. But I like you, and I don’t believe in beating around the bush.”

  “I don’t either,” I said. “Sokolovs are not a patient bunch. Yes, Richard. I’ll text you, OK?”

  “OK,” he said.

  We then shared what to that point was the sweetest kiss yet. Despite the engine of his motorcycle still going, despite the fatigue on both our bodies, I never felt more connected to Richard than that moment. As crazy as it might have sounded, it was like him kissing me as he did was his way of saying, “We may have just had great sex, but you’re the real reason I’m here.”

  That security made it easier to pull away, but that was more because I knew I could step away from him and not lose him. I watched him leave, going into my house to change only when I had no choice.

  I hurried inside, scrubbed myself down as much as I could, and hurried to change, but I could still see I was going to be late. Between the options of showing up smelling like oil and being on time or showing up late but smelling normal, it wasn’t hard to say which option was better.

  I had Antonio already waiting when I got out of the shower. I sat in the back and thought of texting my father that I would be late, but I held off against it.

  As it turned out, as soon as I walked through the front door of Sokolov Industries at about ten minutes past eight, the receptionist motioned me over.

  “Your father wants to see you,” the receptionist, a young lady near my age named Debbie, said. “He’s in his office.”

  “Oh, OK…” I said, my voice trailing off.

  Did he know I had seen Richard last night and spent the night with him? That seemed so unlikely, yet it wasn’t the most improbable thing. If he had been playing poker there last night, who was to say he hadn’t seen me walk in? I was sure I was safe, but…

  I rode the elevator up, typing in the PIN code to get to his floor, and walked to his office: a massive space that looked out on the Las Vegas Strip. My father, seated behind his desk, typing away on a computer, rose and waited for me to get to him on the other side.

  “You’re late toda
y,” he said. “What happened?”

  “I…”

  “You said we had a call with our Russian colleagues at eight,” he said. “Fortunately, they had to reschedule for later today, but do you know how it would have looked if you had not shown up?”

  I bit my lip.

  “I’m sorry, father.”

  “May I ask what you did last night?” he said. “Delays in the morning are often the result of extensions of the night before.”

  There was no way I was going to tell my Dad the truth. That was so loaded of an idea with so many implications that I couldn’t say anything.

  “I just was out with some friends,” I said. “I got carried away. I needed a night to relax. I’m sorry it—”

  “No matter,” my father said, although the expression on his face didn’t exactly tell me I was safe yet. “The meeting is rescheduled. Just be more careful, OK?”

  “I will,” I said. “Thanks, Dad.”

  I turned and started to leave when I heard what sounded like a sniffle. I turned, but my father had already sat down. I ignored it, walked out of the office, and breathed a sigh of relief. My father was probably going to put a more watchful eye on me, but the worst-case scenario had been avoided.

  For now, Richard and I could continue to see each other as long as we took the proper precautions.

  Chapter 13: Richard

  I couldn’t believe how fucking giddy I felt!

  It wasn’t just that I was in a good mood, though that was certainly a given. It was that I felt alive, excited, and hopeful for what was to come. Fuck, it felt good!

  Though I had started to feel like I needed to leave the lifestyle of the club, if not the actual club itself, the biggest thing wasn’t the lifestyle but the monotony that had begun to creep in. Meet on Thursdays, play poker with a guest; network with other guests from Thursday to Monday; party hard with strippers, porn stars, and other beautiful women Tuesday and Wednesday.

  In theory, that lifestyle sounded great, and when I started it a few years ago, it fucking was. If I had met Natasha a few years ago, I have no doubt she wouldn’t have been anything more than a Tuesday or Wednesday night guest. Yet now I’m trying to keep her away from such parties. Funny how that works.

  But that lifestyle was not just monotonous; it was feeling empty. So I had gotten my dick wet with a girl I could look up online… OK. What else was there? Was she an interesting human being? Was she someone I wanted to hang out with? Was she someone that I could see myself being with for some time?

  The answer was almost always no. And it had put me into something of a mundane state without me ever even realizing it.

  And yet, here I was, high as a fucking kite off of life, smiling uncontrollably and thinking of how well fortune had struck me. I could admit I was being a little insane. It was only three dates in, and Natasha and I had a lot to learn about each other that went beyond sex.

  But man, could you ask for a better start? Could things have gone any better than they had in the first three dates?

  I spent the rest of that Friday peppering Natasha with texts about what I was going to do to her, what all was going to happen, and how kinky it would be when I got over to her house that night. I almost wondered if I was coming on too strongly, except for the fact that Natasha was an equal giver of the dirty texts. Thank goodness I didn’t have any work during the day, and the work at night could easily be handled by Dom or Mama as needed.

  A couple of times, Natasha had confessed to feeling quite exhausted, and in such moments, I did offer to come over the following day. But for Natasha, she just saw such fatigue as something to be ignored or to push past, not something to use as an excuse. The fatigue was no factor for me—it just meant I’d have to wake her up with some good sex.

  At about six p.m. in the evening, I couldn’t wait any longer. I texted Natasha and asked her if she was ready to have me over.

  Let’s just say the seductive shot she sent me of her back to me, topless, was enough of an answer. Her only request was that I drive in as quietly as possible; she didn’t need her neighbors to get annoyed by a motorcyclist pulling into their neighborhood. Like that scares me. Let’s go!

  I hopped on my bike, throwing on my cut—that was going to be part of the kink appeal—from the compartment, and then revving the engine into high gear. When I say that I blazed down Interstate 15, I mean, I fucking gunned it. I’m pretty sure the only reason the cops never pulled me over was because I was going so fast that they couldn’t possibly keep up with me.

  I headed to the Summerlin area, weaving through cars when they wouldn’t go fast enough. It occurred to me just how much I was acting out of character right now, but I felt good about this new character of mine. The excited, cheerful, horny Richard was someone that I wanted to be more of, instead of the overly stoic, even-keeled, boring Richard. Maybe I’d settle into the latter the longer Natasha and I went, but for as long as I could maintain this level of joy, why not?

  I pulled into her neighborhood and felt my heartbeat accelerate. I could picture her waiting for me in the window, wearing nothing but a towel, dropping it when she felt sure that no one was watching. That was the introduction she had promised me, and I pictured her perfect breasts just barely visible in the shadows of the window. I could picture her telling me to come in through the already unlocked door, to run upstairs, and to have my way with her.

  Oh, the things I envisioned.

  I turned the corner to her house.

  The first thing I wondered was if I was on the right street. I saw what looked like her house, but I also saw a limo out in front of it. Had she planned an evening out without telling me? That would be kind of cool, although I didn’t think it was something that she was prone to do. I was the one who was more adept at surprising her out of nowhere than vice versa.

  As I got closer, I saw someone standing at the front door with sunglasses and a white button-down shirt on. No way… no… how…

  But even before I had parked my bike, I knew who it was. It was the person I least wanted to see at that moment, and I didn’t mean an ex of Natasha’s.

  Igor Sokolov.

  I parked my bike and looked at him for a long time. He stared right back at me, not moving, as if a Secret Service agent guarding the door. I killed the bike, hopped off slowly, and approached. Only now did Igor remove his sunglasses and stare at me.

  “Richard,” he said.

  In some ways, he still had that same measured, even-level tone that he always did. But there could be no mistaking that there was a very dangerous, almost creepy tone underlying his words.

  “Am I to understand that you are the one who has been seeing my daughter?”

  Well, I supposed I could have lied and made something up. I could have said something about how she had asked me for protection against the Degenerate Sinners, given they had killed her uncle.

  But I didn’t believe in lying. I wasn’t someone who had to rely on lies to get what I wanted, and I didn’t care if I was speaking to the cleaning staff of The Red Door or the president of the USA. I was going to say what was on my mind, what the truth was, and what I believed. I wasn’t afraid of any chips falling in any particular order.

  “You understand that well,” I said. “I am here to go on a date with her.”

  “And what, pray tell, does such a date involve?” Igor said. He wasn’t trying as much to mask his anger right now. “Does it involve deflowering my only daughter?”

  I was going to roll my eyes before I decided that would be allowing Igor to get under my skin.

  “It involves doing things that both of us would like to do for the sake of making the other person happy,” I said. “I am not sure if you understand, Igor, but in the USA, we let women make their own choices. I am not a creeper hitting on your teenager daughter. I am an adult, and so is your daughter. Whomever she dates is her choice.”

  “Perhaps so,” Igor said with a snort. “But I have a say when she dates a biker who smells so
strongly of oil and gasoline that the scent was still on her this morning.”

  Shit. I should have let her take the Uber. I had to give her the bike ride, and she couldn’t shake it.

  “You are not good enough for my daughter, Richard. I suggest you leave and let her find someone who is more compatible with her.”

  “Compatible?” I said.

  I took a couple of steps forward. I was now close enough to punch Igor, although I knew it wasn’t going to come to that. Still, I wasn’t about to make it look like I feared Igor, because I didn’t. Last I checked, dollar bills didn’t hurt when they collided with someone.

  “She is someone who looked at me yearningly the first time I met you. She is someone who came to The Red Door to meet me. She is someone who went out with me on multiple dates. I am a gentleman, I tell the truth, I let those I care about have free will, and I am not afraid of anything, most especially you. Do you really think that it is up to you to decide who she is compatible with?”

  Igor’s jaw twitched. Out of the periphery of my vision, I could see his fist twitch. I couldn’t believe it, but I actually began to believe a fight might break out. I’d kick his ass, I had no doubt about that, but that couldn’t have done much good for my relationship with Natasha.

  “You have no idea who you are messing with, Richard,” Igor snarled. “You need to turn around and walk away now. You have corrupted my daughter, all while putting on a pretty smile at the club.”

  “You mean while you make vague allusions to buying something that isn’t for sale?”

  “Everything is for sale at the right price, Richard; don’t test me,” Igor said. “I am a man of enormous connections and influence, and I can make your life hell with two quick phone calls. If you want your life to be a peaceful one, you turn around right now and leave. Otherwise, I will undercut all of the connections you have with The Red Door. Your club will go out of business. I will destroy you.”

  To that, I only had one response that seemed appropriate.