“Sit tight. I’ll meet her halfway.” Chas exited the car.
Addie watched as he and Brianna spoke. A tall, good-looking man dressed in leather and denim stood on the porch, observing the couple. Addie saw Chas wave at the man then walk up to the porch. The three of them spoke for a few minutes.
Addie closed her eyes, wishing everything could go back the way it was the previous day, before Ian called and shattered her new life. Whenever she remembered Ian’s voice on the phone, her stomach knotted. The car door opened and Addie screamed while opening her eyes. She expected to see Ian’s cruel face, but Chas’s smile greeted her instead.
“Did I scare you?”
“Yes. I guess I dozed, and you startled me, that’s all. Did you know your ex’s new man?”
“Yeah. That was Steel, the president of our affiliate club, Night Rebels. They’re based in Puebla. You know, the southern part of the state. He came up for the party last night. He’s a good guy. I made sure to tell him no one takes Jack on a bike but me.”
“At least your ex got it right this time.” Addie leaned her head back against the seat.
“Steel’s just wetting his cock. Brianna has that ‘I want to be an old lady look’ in her eyes. But I know Steel—he’s a wolf. No fuckin’ way he’ll be tied down by a bitch. Anyway, Brianna doesn’t have what it takes to hold a man.” Chas brought Addie’s hand to his lips. “Not like you do.” He turned and their eyes locked together until he leaned in and kissed her gently on the lips.
“Let’s go to my place,” she whispered.
* * *
As the moonlight bathed their naked bodies, glistening with sweat, Addie dug her nails into Chas’s shoulder as he sucked her nipples while stroking her swollen pussy. The way he fluttered his fingers above her sweet spot, barely touching it, drove her insane, and she wanted to slam his hand down on her clit and move it up and down fast and hard until she came.
The sound of Chas’s mouth sucking her rosy nipples pushed her further to the edge of her mounting tension, deep inside her core. In the morning, her breasts would be covered by red and purple love bites. The first time she’d seen them in the mirror—after one of their rough fucking sessions—her stomach had done flip-flops, and her mound had pulsed. Whenever she looked at them, a slow, hot thread of desire uncoiled inside her. The only worry she had this time was she had a doctor’s appointment in the coming week, and she knew she’d be mortified when the doctor saw them. Addie should’ve told Chas to cool it, but it felt so good with his mouth sucking her tits, she didn’t want to push him away.
His wicked, hot tongue trailed down to her belly button, swirling in and around it, making her squirm underneath his hard, sexy body. He was so gorgeous; she never grew tired of looking at him. Addie sneaked peeks at him whenever she could. Sometimes, she wondered if she was a nymphomaniac because she could never have enough of his mouth on hers, his hands on her skin, or his dick inside her.
She gasped when his tongue flicked against her bundle of nerves. How did he know where the right spot was for her? It was like he knew how to set every inch of her body on fire. She thrust her hips up toward his face.
“Greedy, precious?” He chuckled. “You want my cock in you?”
“Yes. Oh, yes.”
His dirty mouth was an aphrodisiac for Addie. The dirtier he talked, the hornier she became. She’d never tire of his filthy mouth or the way he fucked her with both roughness and tenderness. Chas’s tongue swirled around her hardened bead, and Addie moaned while she arched her back. She was so close. With her legs wrapped around his lean hips, he pressed his cock against her wet slit, pushing it in a tiny bit. Instinctively, her legs drew him closer to her. Again, he pushed in a little bit then withdrew. A strangled cry full of frustration passed through her lips. He was teasing her, and she wanted none of it. Addie had to have Chas’s dick in her now. Right now.
“What’s wrong, babe?” Chas asked as he pushed in a little further.
Squirming, she said, “Fuck me. I need you inside of me. Now.”
From deep in his chest, he chortled. “Don’t like what I’m doing to you?” He withdrew again then pushed in a little bit further.
“No. I mean, yes. I mean… just fuck me.” She moved her head from side to side on the pillow, her mussed-up hair fanning around her.
Chas’s lips covered hers, and his eager tongue plunged deep in her mouth. As he pushed in further, his cock thrusted all the way into her hotness. His thick, wide dick filled her up as he went higher and deeper, until she felt him touch her womb. Every fiber of her body burst with high-voltage sensations as he consumed her with his mouth and cock. He was everything she had wanted, what she’d dreamed about when she’d lain on the sheets in her white bedroom while Ian grunted and plodded his way through their lovemaking.
Chas made her feel like a sexy, desirable woman, and that alone could make her climax.
“Fuck, I love the way your sweet pussy clamps around my cock, precious.”
Harder. Faster. Rougher. Chas pummeled her until the tension, which had been building, finally broke, like a dam during a flood. Waves of pure pleasure pushed her along the precipice of total abandonment—unadulterated ecstasy. Then his teeth grazed her nipple, and all her senses, her thoughts, her nerves shattered into a million pieces, floating around her as jolts of intense euphoria ripped through her.
“That’s right, baby, come all over my cock. I love feeling your come on me. Milk me ’til I’m dry.”
She didn’t even realize she was screaming until she heard his loud groans. They sang out their climax in a tune of cries, growls, and moans. It was the most beautiful music she’d ever heard.
Chas lay on top of her, his dick still inside her, her juices mixed with his hot seed spilled out onto the sheets. The room’s scent was a combination of arousal, sweat, and saltiness, like a humid breeze off the ocean. Chas propped up on his elbows and kissed her, their tongues seeking each other’s. He rolled off her then tucked her next to him. She cushioned her head on his chest; the up-and-down movement of his torso was hypnotic. Before she closed her eyes and welcomed sleep, she breathed deeply—she was safe in the arms of the man she loved.
Chapter Thirty
Ian sipped his martini while seated at a corner table in the hotel bar. From where he sat, he could see the lobby doors as people bustled in and out. Couples holding hands, senior citizens, businessmen, and families made the hotel home for a short stop on life’s road. Each time the big glass doors opened, a whoosh of air filtered through the main floor, carrying hints of pine and fresh earth. How he hated being stuck in this hick town. He’d take the grit and pollution from urban decay any day over fresh, clean air. To say he was enraged he had to spend any time in this town was an understatement. Once he executed his plan, Lizzie—or Addie, as she called herself now—would pay for his wasted days in Hicksville.
Ian spotted Snake the minute he came through the lobby doors. Upon seeing the biker, Ian had a bitter taste in his mouth. He had nothing in common with low-life bikers except the love of money. The Deadly Demons paid him well to make sure witnesses, rival club members, and other troublemakers were eliminated, thus making the MC’s world easier. Ian was paid for a job, but he never engaged in conversation with the Deadly Demons, nor did he want to. Meeting Snake there irked the hell out of Ian because it showed a crack in his hard veneer—he needed Snake, and Ian despised needing anyone.
“Yo, how’re you doing?” Snake asked as he plopped down in the burgundy leather bucket chair.
“Who’s the biker fucking my wife?” Ian’s narrowed eyes and taut face eliminated any small talk.
“Do I get a beer here, or what?” Snake twisted around, looking for a waitress.
A busty waitress came over, her gaze fixed on Ian. Snake leered at her while she took the order—another martini and a bottle of Coors.
“Fuck, did you see the tits on her?” Snake said as he watched the woman sashay to the bar. “Man, I could get lost in those jug
s.” He laughed.
Stone-faced, Ian fought down the urge to grab the buffoon by his throat and choke the life out of him. “Answer my question.”
“Question?” Snake’s attention was still on the waitress as she came back with their drink order.
“Thanks, darling,” Snake said as she set his beer in front of him, his eyes trained on her low-cut white blouse. “You got a name?”
The waitress avoided his eyes, and her hand shook as she placed bowls of nuts, chips, and green olives on the table.
“Thank you,” Ian said.
“What’s your name, darling?” Snake popped a handful of nuts in his mouth.
Flustered, the woman looked to Ian, whose lips curled into a thin smile. “Keep my tab open, and thank you again.”
Relief dusted across her face as she ambled away.
“What the fuck? I wanted to know her name.”
“I didn’t ask you here so you could pick up women. Who is fucking my wife?”
Snake took a long pull from his beer, munched on a couple of olives, and glanced at the waitress as she took the order from the adjacent table. Ian’s flat eyes stared at him while he pictured Snake lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood with Ian’s expert one-shot bullet through his skull.
“Damn, lighten up, man,” Snake said. “The fucker’s name is Chas. He’s an Insurgent, and he’s got it bad for your wife. He’s also got a kid who goes to Addie for help at the library.”
“Is he married?”
“He was. His ex is a hot blonde with big tits. But your wife is a looker, too, and she’s got a great rack on her. Fuck…”
Before Snake could pop another peanut into his mouth, his chair toppled over and he was seated on the floor, his perplexed expression turning dark and angry.
“What the fuck do you—”
Ian ran his finger over the stem of his martini glass. “Don’t ever talk about my wife like that again,” he said, his voice deadly calm.
Rising to his feet, Snake brushed off his jeans. He leaned over and hissed, “And don’t you ever touch me again or I’ll ruin your starched white shirt with your blood. Got it? The only reason your throat isn’t slit already is because of your relationship with Reaper. You just fuckin’ used up your freebie.”
Ian shook his head, took a sip of his drink, and stared at Snake, his cold eyes sparking. “Before you could even take your knife out, you’d be slumped over in your chair. It would be quick and painless, and quiet, of course. I never make scenes.”
The two men surveyed each other, neither willing to break the tense silence between them. Ian had no plan as of yet, so if the biker thought he could sit there and intimidate Ian with his ridiculous scowl, he’d soon learn Ian was one cool sonofabitch.
Shaking his head, Snake said, “I could use another beer.”
Ian lifted his arm, gesturing to the bartender for another round.
“If I were you, I’d take my wife back to Chicago and show that Insurgent asshole who’s boss. But first, I’d teach her a lesson she’d never forget.” The bartender placed another round of drinks in front of the men as the waitress stood at the bar watching.
Without emotion, Ian replied, “I’m not paying you for your opinions. All I wanted was information on who my wife was fucking. You told me. You can go. Now.”
Snake drained his bottle of beer, took the two one hundred dollar bills Ian handed him, and swaggered out of the hotel.
Ian watched Snake exit the bar with an intense stare as his lips curled into a sneer. He despised doing business with stupid, low-life people. Ian prided himself in being a gentleman who could dine with the richest and most sophisticated class of people and be able to hold his own. Sighing, he took out his phone to dial Addie. Hearing her voice the previous morning brought back old memories. He had to admit, a part of him missed her. She brought a certain amount of innocence and vitality to his well-ordered and precise life. She would go back with him, Ian would make sure of that, even though he knew she loved the biker. He saw it in the way she kissed Chas and wrapped her body around his that morning Ian had watched them from the shadows of the evergreens.
Ian decided he’d give Addie two choices: return with him to Chicago, or stay and watch her lover and his young son die. When faced with sparing their lives, Ian trusted she’d make the right decision. The way he saw it, it was a no-brainer. He smiled thinly as he began plugging in her phone number. Before he pressed the last digit, his phone beeped—another call. He disengaged Addie’s number and took the call.
“It’s a go? … I’ll meet you in New York City tomorrow so we can go over the details.”
Ian placed his phone down on the table. The job in Uzbekistan had come through. Ian had been working out the details and the price for the past several weeks, and it had finally materialized. A political opponent was in the way, and Ian had been hired to assassinate him. The job was dangerous, but then, the high-paying ones always were.
Ian’s jaw tightened—his reunion plans with his wife would have to be put on hold for a few weeks. He didn’t think she’d leave her lover, but to make sure, he’d need someone to keep tabs on her while he was gone; he didn’t want her to slip away again.
As his upper lip curled in disdain, he picked up his phone. “Snake? I have a small job for you for a few weeks. The pay is good…”
Chapter Thirty-One
One week later
Chas sat in the chair in Hawk’s office, staring at the report Hawk handed him a half an hour before. The fingerprint analysis had come back. Chas had read the report numerous times, hoping he’d missed something. No such luck. The analysis said the fingerprints belonged to Lizabeth Quinn. She was sought as a suspect in the murder of a woman in Glenview, Illinois.
The report said Lizzie’s prints were found on the bathroom sink, the light panels, the screen door, and the front door. Chas hated cops, but he could see there was no way Addie’s prints could’ve been in the woman’s house unless she was there. What the fuck? Did she off the woman? It blew his mind to think of Addie as a killer. Chas had suspected she was hiding something, but damn, this was a doozy.
Chas rubbed his face with his hand. Addie must’ve had a reason to kill the woman. Maybe she was fucking Addie’s old man. Chas wasn’t a stranger to murder, and he wore his “13” patch—the symbol that a member killed someone—proudly on his cut, but he killed for club business, and it involved men who tried to hurt him or his brothers—it was methodical. He shook his head. Fuck, if I screwed around on Addie, she’d probably cut off my balls. He chuckled.
“Something must be interesting in the report,” Hawk said as he came into the office, “ ’cause you’re still reading it after all this time.”
“Did Cara say anything to you about Addie’s arrest?” Chas asked.
Half-sitting on his desk, Hawk said, “No, but she wouldn’t. Addie’s her client, and she doesn’t talk about what her clients tell her.” Hawk tossed a can of Coke to Chas. They both pulled the tabs on their cans open.
“I just wondered, that’s all.” Chas took a large gulp of his cola. He was surprised as hell Addie wasn’t on her way back to Chicago, and he was elated he could depend on the incompetence of the local law enforcement. But the report was in her file, and it was only a matter of time before someone with a brain read it. Once that happened, Addie was on a one-way ticket back to Chicago wearing iron bracelets. There was no way he was going to let that happen.
He didn’t want to lose her.
A pretty brunette with brown eyes came to his mind. Maria, a woman he’d fucked for a short time, was a clerk in the records department. She always asked Chas for money. I could pay her for Addie’s file. Chas could be very persuasive with women. No way did he want his sweet woman going to the pen. Faced with the gravity of Addie’s situation, Chas realized he loved her and he wasn’t willing to let her go. Having her fucking husband in the way made everything difficult because Chas had to be one hundred percent sure Addie didn’t have any fe
elings for the asshole.
Chas couldn’t bring himself to tell Addie he loved her. He had to be sure she was telling him the truth when she said she no longer cared for her husband. He couldn’t afford to get hurt. Brianna had taken a toll on him with her lies and cheating while they’d been married. Even though Addie proclaimed her love for him, Chas couldn’t completely let her into his and Jack’s life until he was sure she didn’t have one iota of love left for her husband.
Chas picked up his phone and called Addie. “Hey, precious. Are you doing anything tonight? … I’ll come by at around six thirty, okay? … See you later.”
Chas crushed his can and threw it in the trash. “Thanks for helping out, man,” he said to Hawk. “I’ll catch you later.”
“Later, brother.” Hawk settled into his desk chair.
From Hawk’s repair shop, Chas went to Cara’s office in downtown Pinewood Springs. When he entered, her assistant, Asher, greeted him. After Asher announced Chas’s presence, Cara came out of her office, a wide smile on her face.
“Hi, Chas. Come on in.”
Chas sat on one of the black leather chairs in front of her large wood desk. “You look busy,” he said, noting the law books and files piled everywhere.
“Yes. I have a big trial coming up in a few days. Very stressful.” She took a sip of her bottled water. “Want one?” she asked.
“No, thanks.”
“What’s up? You in some kind of trouble?”
“Nah, not me, but a friend of mine. You’re her attorney.”
“Addie?”
“Yeah. Well, isn’t her name really Lizzie?” Saying the name didn’t seem real to Chas. To him, she was and always would be Addie.
Cara gazed at him, her elbows on the desk, her chin resting on her folded hands.
“Isn’t it?” Chas returned her gaze.
“You know I can’t betray a client’s confidences. Everything Addie and I spoke about is privileged.”
Chas's Fervor: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 3) Page 28
