“What are we eating?” Jackal asked. For being much skinnier than me, Jackal had one hell of an appetite. He was always eating, always scrounging around for food as a kid. Nothing changed.
He got the killer metabolism. My body was formed out of hard work, discipline, and careful calculations. If I didn’t hit the gym, punch some bags or do some running, I would be a high-strung prick. Obviously, dragging myself through hell at the gym did little to help my mood sometimes. Ash could attest to that.
Not paying attention to my brother, I got up and walked to the back.
The kitchen bustled with workers. Old ladies hummed between stations with Grimes at the lead, deeply focused with a bowl of mixed spices. They were all dressed in proper kitchen attire. If I didn’t know better, I would think I walked into a five-star restaurant.
Roxy rushed from the ovens past the cutting stations and to the front of the line, heading my way. Her hair in a bun, I had to smile. Her features were sharper and more mischievous than ever without her curly locks draped low.
“Lost your way, little pup?”
“Get off, Roxy. I can be back here.”
“Sure you can, but we’ve got work to do.”
She pursed her lip and hissed “tsk, tsk,” then spun on her heels, returning to work. Ash strolled around the corner. She had an apron tied tightly around her waist, accentuating the swell of her ass. My fingers twitched to dig in, to drive myself inside to her end. She leaned over while chopping salad, further plumping her ass and just about wagging it in my face, like dangling a treat in front of a starved wolf.
Seeing her helping out, deep in her charitable work, I had second doubts about whether she was made for this kind of life. She seemed to be getting along fine with everyone. Everyone but me. The thought of pounding her hard while she had nothing on but that apron got me instantly hard. I needed to shut my eyes, scrunch my fists, and get on with it.
On my approach, Ash looked over her shoulder and spotted me. She went right back to cutting like I wasn’t there.
I stayed behind her. She had no choice but to say something.
“What’s up, Red?” she asked as she drove her knife through a pepper and thumped the cutting board.
“Checking to see if you’re still here.”
She flashed a beat of eyelashes then returned to the cutting board. “Is that all? Thought you weren’t going to do that.”
How could I deny that sweet, sexy thing? I could use every inch of her body until she was tamed and under my spell, buckling and riding my swollen cock into a blinding orgasm. A few of those and all of our problems would be forgotten.
“It’s hard to look away when you show up wearing that.”
“I’m wearing an apron,” she said with a chuckle.
“Not from behind,” I said. I did what I wanted to with no regrets. I slid up behind her and pinned her waist, thrusting my hard cock between her cheeks.
One touch and I was throbbing, growing firmer than I could ever remember.
“Off, Red. You made yourself perfectly clear. I’m not even good enough to be a whore.”
My hands swerved from her hips to her ass, then lower, to the lip of that forbidden dress. Rip it right off. Fuck her on the kitchen counter. Who cares if anyone watches? Pour yourself inside and ravage her until the words between you disappear. Words get in the way. Your cock is the answer.
“Fucking hell, Red. Can’t you see I’m trying to help?” she snapped.
“All right, babe. You keep trying to help, but we’re not through.”
She spun around and shot raging fireballs out of her eyes. My cock jerked back.
“You can’t,” she fumed under her breath, a warning.
“I can do whatever I want here. You stay here, you’re under Bastard rules. But more importantly, you’re under my rule.”
Her nostrils flared. She gripped the counter, pressing her ass against it, hiding it from me. It couldn’t hide forever.
Roxy shouted from behind, “Is he causing trouble?”
Ash shook her head slowly.
“Go,” she said. “I’m not good enough for you. Grow up and don’t come running to me every time you get a boner.”
She leaned in, letting me see her violent snarl, a look I never thought I could see on such a beautiful face. What kind of man would do that to an angel? I must be the devil. I must be a terrible person. The biggest fuckup on the planet.
“I’m doing this to help Joy, then I’m out of here.”
She tried to push me back with a finger to my chest. A step over the line, but I allowed it.
“Go, please.”
Shrugging my shoulders, grumbling, “Fuck it,” I headed back to the bar to commiserate. King was right. Forget the complications. “Drink and Be Merry” would be my new motto. Because trying to fix things wasn’t going so well.
Back at the booth, Jackal and Ramos withdrew. Might be because I slammed my fists and steamed. Might be because I looked like I was about to turn some tables over.
“Hey, save it for tomorrow,” Jackal said.
Jackal was right.
Tomorrow was a big day. My grip loosened. My shoulders hit the softness of the booth behind me and my tense neck relaxed.
Tomorrow, The Defilers would be utterly destroyed. Everyone might be laughing and smiling now, but underneath, I could hear the battle drums pounding.
“Gotta get some fresh air,” I said.
“You do that,” Ramos agreed.
I slid from the booth with my beer, some hoppy IPA. Outside, it was a windless night. I leaned against The Backyard next to my bike. I would probably brood out there, drinking my beer, since I wasn’t in the partying mood. Bastards could grieve. Bastards could really party. I wasn’t into any of it. I was into rage.
Motorcycles stretched into the distance and even past the gates, leading to The Backyard like a red carpet. All of The Bastards’ chapters were in attendance. They would stay the night, some in the apartments, but most camping anywhere they found room.
I heard Boots approach before I saw him. He slapped me on the back, almost making me spill my beer, which might’ve been a good thing, because I was feeling too angry to dull my hot blood with alcohol. Anger could give me an edge. Best to ride it out. Savor it for tomorrow.
“I got a job for ya,” Boots said, slurring his words.
He stumbled, wavering, but luckily touched his back to the wall of The Backyard.
“Thought we don’t start until tomorrow?”
Boots lifted his beer and pointed the lip to the line of bikes. “Lots of help, but it’s pointless if we hit the wrong target. I was keeping an eye on you the whole night. You haven’t drunk much have you?”
“No.”
“I’m drunk, but not drunk enough I can’t spot a sober person.” Boots laughed. I stared him down.
“All this help...Greytown, The Crossroad, The Black Peak chapter, all ready to roll, but it won’t matter unless we hit them where they’ll feel it most. You and Ramos need to spot their camp.”
I tossed my beer bottle. In the morning, the cleanup crews could get it. I straightened, uncurling my shoulders like unfurling my monstrous wings, preparing to take flight.
“I’m ready.”
“Ready already? You don’t have anything to do before you go?”
I paused. I shook my head.
Boots snatched the back of my neck and brought me close, too close to his vodka breath.
“We’re counting on you. Ramos has some leads.”
He let go of me. Boots left while giving me some words of wisdom, “The desert will run red with their blood.”
Two minutes later, cool, confident, like he was ready for a midnight joyride, Ramos stood before me. He was taller than most of the bikers. And better-looking too. Hey, I could say it, nothing wrong with that. It was an objective truth.
“You look ready to go,” he noticed.
“You too,” I said.
We shook hands. Ramos looked rel
ieved. He’d seemed uptight in the bar.
“Where we going?”
He waved me on. “Follow me. I’m not going slow.” He planted himself on his bike and greased up the handlebars. I dropped onto my own.
“Don’t expect to go slow, brother. Let’s find where these rats sleep, and then tomorrow, blow their nest wide open.”
Ever since King was ambushed, we’d all been carrying. This was supposed to be a recon mission, so it was best not to bring along heavy firepower. Best not to be tempted.
“They’ve got camps spread out all over California, but there must be a place where their officers stay. We’ll go to one camp, see if we can tail anyone.”
Gunning it as a warning, Ramos took off. He wasn’t joking about going slow. He accelerated fast, taking off well beyond the compound’s unspoken speed limit.
Before I followed, someone stepped out into the night. I almost didn’t look, but I did. It was Ash. She was standing there, hands flat against her sides, looking lost.
We locked eyes for a second.
Then I was gone.
* * *
Ash
Drained...so drained. My feet were shuffling. The front of my thighs burned with every step.
Physically, it was from working hard for the old ladies. Mentally? It was from Red, an incubus who sucked my energy at every turn. He was an idiot for coming to me the way he did. Was that a biker’s way of saying sorry? A compliment and a hard on pressed against your ass?
While it was a stupid way to apologize, I had to admit that he almost got me. Everyone slowly left the kitchen, leaving me alone. As I brushed the already immaculate floors, I knew I had two choices—talk to Red or leave. The broom got hung up.
Good alcohol, food, and music finally let everyone relax in the bar. It smelled like barbecue sauce and deep-fried wings still, despite everyone being finished an hour ago. They were all huddled around now, drinking and talking. Mostly drinking. But with the way their week went, who could blame them?
Em cut through the crowd. I chased after her. Then with a hand on her shoulder, stopped her charge.
“Where’s Red?”
“He went outside, hun.”
“Thanks.” As I headed outside, she yelled after me, “Go catch him. Don’t let him get away.” I laughed, but as soon as I got to the door, thinking about Red being on the other side, I fell sullen again.
When I sheepishly opened the door, Red was on his bike. Another bike raced off into the night, roaring away from the bar. He looked ready to follow, but he turned and saw me.
No emotion. Cold, distant, Red left me standing alone as he tore off into the night.
I watched as they kept going past the gates. Wherever they were headed, I got a sickening feeling about it. Like I had just watched my man go off to war and hadn’t even gotten a proper goodbye.
I headed back inside to get my answer.
Em was talking, explaining a story, which involved talking with her hands more than her mouth. Once finished, she got a tug on her elbow.
“You catch up to him?”
She noticed my response.
“You give him a piece of your mind yet, dear? Don’t be afraid. These guys need to be put in their place sometimes.”
“That’s the problem. I gave him a little too much of my mind. He tried to apologize...I think.”
“Oh, an apology, that’s something new.”
It was a different form of apology than I was used to.
“Do you know where he went?”
A helper came up beside us and reached out with a giant margarita bowl, like a hand off stage, and Em grabbed it and took a sip while scrutinizing my words, “You sure he left?”
“It looked urgent.”
Em shut down.
“If it’s business, we don’t get to know about that.”
“I only want to know if he’s doing anything dangerous. If I can, I want to talk to him. I’m not sure—”
I started, but there was a swelling in my chest and a sudden sadness that stomped out all confidence. Em noticed. She reached out with one hand to steady me, the other to hold her bowl of liquor.
“I’ll ask Boots. It’s usually not okay. But he might be drunk enough to tell me a little something something, so you stay here and I’ll come back, okay?”
“Okay,” I repeated, standing in place for her return.
When she returned, she told me all of the grisly details, few but fearsome enough to send me spiraling into worry.
“He’s out on a mission. He’s doing Bastard work.”
Bastard work...that wasn’t comforting.
“When’s he coming back?”
Em shook her head slowly and looked timidly back to her circle of friends.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
“Thanks, Em, I know,” I said.
Em moved away, figuring we were done. I took a staggered step. She caught my wrist, standing me straight. “I feel sick,” I said, but I still flung myself off and tried another.
“I should leave,” I said.
“No, out of the question. You’ll stay here for the night.”
“This place looks packed.”
“You’re staying here,” Em said again, and she took my hand, taking me away.
The trip from the bar to the vacant room seemed instant. Once I was dumped onto the bed, Em checked my temperature with the back of her hand. I crawled to the pillow, imaging it was Red’s. Imagining Red’s scent—leather, oil, and pine, could help sedate me.
“You’re running hot. Try to calm down. You really need to learn how to deal with all this stress, because trust me, there’s a lot of it. Maybe a shopping trip is in order tomorrow?”
I smiled weakly, gripped Em’s hand to show her my heart was still beating, and said, “Sure, if Red comes back safe, I’ll go on a trip with you.”
“Good, you shouldn’t worry about him. He knows what he’s doing. Nothing like what happened to King will happen again.”
I nodded, but I didn’t know if that was the truth. I didn’t trust that empty promise, but soon, after Em left, I closed my eyes and exhaustion took over.
* * *
Red
The party was mostly over by the time Ramos and I got back. Most of the members were done with their partying. They retired to their beds before the big day.
We parked our bikes near The Backyard. Ramos gave me another handshake with a “Good work.”
“You going to be good to ride tomorrow?” I asked.
“Yeah, I’m still awake. Wide awake.”
“I hear ya. I’ll see you in a couple hours,” I said.
We broke off. Ramos would go and report to the team about what we saw. Boots was probably the only one awake. Seeing how drunk he was hours ago, I wondered how awake one could really say he was.
The main enemy camp was a roaming site near the edge of California and Arizona where they parked tons of RVs, pickups, and tents to spend the night in isolation. From where we trailed a Defiler, weed smoke drifted off the mountains into the valley. I was sure weed was the most harmless drug they were on. Tomorrow, I hoped we’d catch them nodding off, rather than amped up on PCP, because a man on PCP could shrug off gunshots like bee stings.
I did my job. Now I wanted to know what happened to Ash. You couldn’t blame a guy for wanting to see a pretty face before he was shipped off to war.
But Ash wasn’t in the bar. Just Crack. Showing off his impressive crack as he leaned on the bar, chugging down what I hoped was his last beer. It was best not to mention his ass showing. Even if I could probably get away with it, I didn’t want to tempt him at that ungodly hour.
Ash needed to be looked after. My heart thudded in my chest at the thought of her in trouble as I asked anyone I ran into. Was I ever falling for this girl or what? Now I knew why most men died before their women—the good ones worry too much.
In our living quarters, I spotted Ramos again, who left his room without a shirt and had a sheet of
sweat over his muscled frame.
“Mind asking Roxy where Ash is?”
“Really, man? I gotta ask Rox about that right now? Things were heating up in there. I’m ready for round two.”
“Could you do it for me? And save round two for tomorrow.”
Ramos sighed. “For another Bastard, anything,” he said, and then he ordered a water bottle from the vending machine, entered his room, and then promptly walked out, not quite as excited as he was before.
Emotions were high. Everyone would be cooped up with their loved ones tonight. There was a good chance some kids might find out later this was the day they were conceived.
“She’s in room thirty two.”
The top floor? Those were usually reserved for very important guests. With soldier-like nods, we departed to our rooms.
As I climbed the steps, I knew I wouldn’t tell her what I was doing tomorrow. I wouldn’t stress her out. But I needed to see her. It was reckless. Maybe juvenile. But I needed to see her. If this was the last time—I shoved those foolish thoughts away. The Defilers would be given hell tomorrow.
I knocked on the door and was pleased to hear her softly call for me to enter. Good thing I wouldn’t have to barge in or worse, be turned away again.
This was the biggest room in the whole compound with a large bathroom, a living area, and a bedroom. Through the living area, I spotted Ash in the bedroom, a soft glow cast on her as she waited, hands clasped on the edge of the bed.
She still wore that sexy dress. My cock lurched against my jeans at the sight of her sexy legs and her luscious mounds pressing into the V. Her hourglass shape turned me on to no end. It took all of my willpower not to drop her onto that firm mattress and rock her world. All of the Bastards’ beds were sturdy California Kings. An important detail that hadn’t been skipped over during renovations.
In Bed With The Outlaw Page 11
