Naked Dirty Love

by Selene Chardou

  Cillian glared at them with hard, crystal blue eyes. “What do you think the bastard would do? Kill his flesh and blood? This isn’t television and we know how he feels about family. No way in hell is he gonna take Carlito out but he’ll stall the fuck outta us and pretend like he’s doin’ somethin’.”

  “What’s he doin’ to buy time?” Trey questioned as he shook a Camel out of his pack and lit the cigarette with a chrome lighter.

  “According to the great and fearless leader of Aztecas Infierno, Carlito was actin’ on his orders. We know this is bullshit because the Knights who’ve personally met with Carlito have emphatically stated he was actin’ alone. He pointed out, on numerous occasions, to Jake and Marian that they were doin’ business with him—not the cartel and not the MC.” Cillian sighed and sat down in his usual spot, avoiding the Prez’s chair.

  “Okay, so what does that mean? The last time we saw his fuckin’ ass, Ronan and me was helpin’ Kink bring Chantal back to the club. My dumb ass sister was there and now she’s knee-deep in shit she don’t fuckin’ understand. Stupid bitch—just like her fuckin’ whore mother,” Cricket complained bitterly.

  “Yeah, I know,” Cillian continued. “Fortunately, we won’t be meetin’ on no fuckin’ yacht though. We’re supposed to help the Glendale charter oversee a shipment Carlito is deliverin’. We’ll test the product then and there. We know he’s been cuttin’ that shit with meth so we catch him red-handed—”

  “Wait a minute,” Trey interrupted. “No disrespect to you, seein’ as you’re gonna be leadin’ us all one day, but if Emilio’s been in touch with his son, don’t you think he’d make sure the product is what we’re expectin’? Do you really think he’d be that dumb?”

  “Brother, we know he’s that fuckin’ dumb,” Kink replied. “Just as you were makin’ your way to the club, I got a call from Jake. The delivery went down as always—no hitches. You honestly think he’s gonna sit on all that meth and make a clean delivery? No fuckin’ way.”

  “Trey’s got a point though,” Cillian said before he dragged on his cigarette. “The way I see it, even if it is what we’re expectin’ when we show up—he’s not lookin’ to see any of us, and he knows he’s busted. He can’t keep playin’ us like he has. Maybe he sells the cut coke to another buyer, maybe he fuckin’ eats the cost—I don’t give a shit. I want that motherfucker to know we’re watchin’ him.”

  “Speakin’ of…I been listenin’ in on some local biz we got goin’ and the cops found drugs on some high school kids.” Bookie swigged from a bottle of water and placed it back on the table. “We know the kids around here like a little bud but we’re not talkin’ about that. They found some hardcore shit - heroin and coke. Looks like the kids were lookin’ to get wasted.”

  Cillian glared around the table. “Where the fuck did this shit come from? Don’t tell me Sheriff Rawlins thinks it came from us? We don’t fuckin’ shit where we eat.”

  “Nah—they ain’t lookin’ at the MCs,” Bookie continued quietly. “They called in the Feds and, apparently, they spotted some vatos around the high school. Definitely not local. They were all pimped out and shit in their ghetto rides listening to some loud ass Tejano rap or some shit. Anyway, they think the cartel’s finally moved into the charming communities of Pine Bluff and Birch Tree.”

  Trey shook his head as he smirked. “They may not be lookin’ at the MCs now but they will be sooner or later. Everyone knows the Saints do business with the cartel, but the Bastards won’t touch them with someone else’s dick. When the parents start complain’ at town meetings about how little Johnny was a straight-A student until he discovered smack or coke, who do you think the cops are gonna be shakin’ down? We gotta nip this shit in the bud with motherfuckin’ quickness.”

  “Or what?” Kink asked rhetorically.

  “You think we got an issue ’cause Carlito is cuttin’ our shit with meth? Wait until you have a whole list of citizens wanting the Saints and Bastards outta their goddamn towns—fuck the consequences. They don’t understand we’ve been the muscle that’s kept them safe all along. The cartel would’ve destroyed this bum-fuck area a long time ago but the MCs are a necessary evil. We keep this place tolerable, a nice place to live. We go and the cartels move in - making this like the border towns in Texas, Arizona, and California.” Trey dragged from his cigarette and exhaled wordlessly.

  All his brothers looked around the table, nodding. Cillian glanced upwards, a look of exasperation on his face. “Fuck me twice and die. I gotta talk to Dizzy about this shit now ’cause if I go to Glendale, I’m gonna kill that motherfucker. Fuck the consequences, fuck a motherfuckin’ war. That pendejo thinks he’s gonna take over our fuckin’ town? He’s got another think comin’ ’cause I’ll kill that bastard, his father, and his cross-dressin’ uncle too. I will eliminate Aztecas Infierno.”

  “Yeah but you know how the cartels work, Killer. They’re like the goddamn Islamic terrorists—you cut off the head of one hydra and two more pop outta nowhere,” Trey stated. “Besides, can you really do that to Maureen? Carlito is a lot of things but he’s still blood. Bad blood, but we got the same shit pumpin’ through our veins he does. All we can do is hit ’em…hard. Send a message we won’t be takin’ any more vatos out of SoCal and for them to go back where the fuck they came from. Then tell Carlito to call his fuckin’ soldiers off. He needs to shit or get off the pot and stop fuckin’ with us. If he wants a war, he should fuckin’ start it already but no one fucks with our town and gets away with it. We let him do that and the whole situation is just gonna escalate. S’all I’m sayin’.”

  The VP stubbed his cigarette out in a glass ashtray and breathed loudly. “We leave tomorrow night. The delivery is in a couple days and with the weather bein’ what it’s like, we gotta ride through some snow, brothers. If we hurry, we can miss most of the worst shit and be chillin’ in Glendale by Thursday. Everyone cool with that?”

  Trey nodded his head along with all the others before standing and grounding out his cigarette in the same glass ashtray.

  “Can you hang back a minute, bro?”

  He looked up, meeting Cillian’s calculating gaze. “Sure.”

  Both men waited until everyone cleared the room.

  His brother glared at him. “I know this has to be difficult for you. Belfast ain’t no joke—problem is most of the guys in here don’t know it. Are you sure you’re ready to make a run? I can put you on detail here if you’re not ready to deal.”

  Trey shook his head. “I’m fine. Besides, I need to get back out there. All this mopin’ around is killin’ me. It’s worse now that I’m home. In Belfast, I didn’t have time to think and I’m better when I’m on the move—”

  “You don’t need to be on the move, what you need is some pussy. Yeah, I know she ain’t gonna be Keri, but it’s time you started usin’ your dick to help you forget your troubles a bit. Nobody knows what you’re goin’ through but you shouldn’t be doin’ it alone.” Cillian laid his hand on Trey’s shoulder and squeezed.

  “I know, but I ain’t feelin’ a woman like that right now.”

  “Or maybe a certain fiery redhead is the only woman you’re feelin’ right now,” his brother replied. “I’m not blind. I see the way you look at her. I don’t know the history is between you two but I’d go for it.”

  Trey’s dark eyebrows shot up. “Yeah, that’s the problem…too much fuckin’ history between Kyra and me—ain’t gonna work.” He walked toward the door and opened it.

  “Why’s that?” Cillian called over his shoulder.

  “The bitch is off limits,” he replied. “That’s what Jonesy told me back then and I doubt anything’s changed now that I’ve got a new cut on my back.”

  He strode out the door and left the club as quietly as he’d come.

  Chapter Four

  Kyra

  The tune of “Do What U Want” startled me out of my REM sleep and, for once, I wanted to throw my phone across the room and murder Lady Gaga for maki
ng such a catchy fucking song in the first place. I also had a “What the fuck?” moment too for assigning the ringtone to Trey. If that wasn’t my subconscious at work, I don’t know what the hell it was. I still couldn’t believe I’d consciously choose that song for him, of all people.

  “Hello?” I answered, stifling a yawn.

  “Hey…sorry to wake you. I just had to call in case you heard from a certain person.”

  I sat up in bed, my heart thundering in my chest. “Yeah, what about?”

  “A run came up—I don’t have a choice, I gotta go. We’re going to SoCal to see a shipment through. We’ve been havin’ some issues lately and there’s gotta be muscle there,” he said in that drop dead sexy voice of his.

  God, he sounded hot as hell even at two in the morning. Or maybe it was because he hadn’t gone to bed yet. Some of us no longer had a best friend we could depend on for long, leisurely wine nights and now, two glasses of top-shelf Cabernet Sauvignon put us to sleep.

  Okay, that would be me since Gisela was back with Cillian and he took up more of her free time than not. We still hung out but my best friend finally in a stable relationship complicated things. She would eventually be the old lady of a fucking club Prez and I was the daughter of one. Neither my mother nor I had it easy; neither would she nor the twins she was expecting by her soon-to-be husband.

  “That’s not a problem. I can arrange something in southern California but…you have to be discreet. Can Trista cover for you if you tell her it’s important?”

  “If I know my mom, she’s not gonna want my sister involved. Besides, I can get away easily but I need to know she’s gonna be there. I can’t risk everything and have her be a no-show.”

  I shook my head, knowing he couldn’t see me do it. “That won’t be an issue, I promise. As soon as she calls me, I’ll let her know things have changed. Don’t worry about it—that’s my job, remember? I’ll get it arranged.”

  “Thanks, Kyra.”

  I knew he’d be hanging up any moment by the tone of his voice but now that he’d woken me up, he owed me something. The least he could do was put me back to sleep with that sex-personified voice of his.

  “Um…do you wanna come over? You kinda woke me up, and now I can’t sleep,” I said boldly.

  Shit! Where the hell did that come from? Now he would think I was interested in a bootie call.

  “Listen, if it’s ’cause you wanna talk then I’m all ears. If it’s for somethin’ else, I can’t help ya there. I’m barely holdin’ on as it is,” he replied frankly. “No, it’s nothing sexual. I just…” I trailed off and bit my bottom lip. “I don’t want to be alone. That’s all.”

  “Well why didn’t you say something before? I know how silence can drive a person crazy. When I’m alone, I have to listen to music or watch TV to get to sleep. It hasn’t been easy to sleep, not since Belfast.”

  “Come over. I’ll make you a cup of coffee or get you a beer—whatever you need.”

  Trey laughed out loud. “I don’t need much. I’m leaving now so expect me soon.”

  “Okay.” I pressed End and threw my phone on the bed.

  I quickly slid into a pair of pajama shorts since I only wore matching tank top and panties to sleep. The weather was cold as hell and my apartment was warm enough without being uncomfortable. I enjoyed late autumn and early winter, especially here in Northern Nevada, but so much crap had happened over the past eleven months, I only wished the year was over.

  The silence didn’t bother me to the same extent it disturbed Trey but, then again, I hadn’t watched someone I loved die. People lived by the club and they died by the club. I wasn’t a stranger to death, given my background, but I’d yet to be deeply touched by it. The closest I’d really been to losing it was when Gisela disappeared for almost a year during our teen years. Her parents wouldn’t tell anyone anything except she was fine and would be back soon enough. No one had put two and two together, mostly because even I didn’t know she’d gone so far as to have a boyfriend, let alone get knocked up.

  Eventually she’d told me the truth and, although I wished she’d been honest with me before she left, I couldn’t possibly stay mad at her. Yes, I’d lost my best friend for almost a year but she’d handed her own flesh and blood over to strangers as soon as she gave birth. Her situation was definitely more traumatic than mine.

  Gisela and I had always been close, even in college. We’d attended the same universities and graduated with honors in law. She’d been there for me when I’d had to get an unfortunate D&C after I hemorrhaged. At the time, I wasn’t even aware I was pregnant. The relationship had gone the way of all my previous sexual escapades with men but I still regretted what happened. If I’d known, perhaps I wouldn’t have lived so recklessly and wasted so much time.

  I knew I was still young. Hell, I was only thirty and had plenty of time to find the right guy, get married, and have kids but I highly doubted it would be that simple. My dad being who he was limited the men I could consider for potential marriage material. There wasn’t one guy in the club I wanted to be with that didn’t already have an old lady. I didn’t shoplift cock and I didn’t sleep with married men. Not that I judged women who did—hell, my best friend had done it twice—but it was my own firm principle.

  Everyone expected the worst out of me just because my father was President of an MC and they wouldn’t find it, not with me. Sadly, I only wanted one guy and he was off limits for two reasons. The first being my dad, who’d given us explicit instructions never to pursue anything with each other. The second was his mother—though using an alias—was my client. There was no six degrees of separation like Gisela’s relationship with Cillian. Though he was, technically, considered her client, he hadn’t been paying the bills. The Saints used a dummy Corporation for all their legit operations.

  That didn’t mean I couldn’t dream though and what I wanted was a night filled with fantasies about Trey. Hopefully, they would be easy to achieve after seeing him in the flesh.

  The doorbell rang, startling me out of my thoughts. I quickly stood, strode to the front door, and opened it.

  Trey stood in front of me looking as delicious as ever. When did this man ever look bad? Dressed casually in a dark long-sleeved t-shirt with the leather Saints cut, a pair of indigo jeans, and steel-toed shit-kickers on his feet. He might have thought he looked like shit since he hadn’t shaved in a couple days, and finger-combed his hair but, hot damn, the man was a fine-ass package.

  I stepped out of the way as he strode into my condo, his presence filling my space like the air I breathed. I never realized the place was so small until someone like him commandeered it just by walking inside.

  “Make yourself at home.” I turned away to hide the flush spreading from my cheeks all the way down to my neck and beyond. My face felt hot and, all the sudden, it seemed really warm and entirely too damn claustrophobic.

  I’d always loved my condo with the stunning view of Lake Tahoe from my balcony, until now. It felt too closed in and confined. I’d never wanted to buy a house more in my life than I wanted to now.

  “I have wine or beer. Can I get you anything?” I asked, my mouth dry and desperate for anything alcoholic, if only to relax my frayed nerves.

  “What kind of beer you got?” Trey asked behind me.

  “Beck’s. Most men seem to like it even if they think imported beer is for metrosexuals—”

  “It’s fine.” His voice felt too close to me. I turned to realize he was definitely in my space, mere inches from us touching.

  His breath smelled fresh, and those liquid pools of hazel—pale green irises with striations of amber-gold surrounding the pupils—brilliant, as they were mesmerizing. I traced the bridge of his Roman-shaped nose and his lips parted slightly.

  “Okay,” I replied as he grabbed my wrist, holding it softly in his hand.

  The scent of his body washed over me. He’d recently showered, the mixture of body wash and expensive cologne lingering as I stood
near him.

  “I don’t care about what kind of beer you have, Kyra. Whether it’s imported or domestic—it doesn’t matter to me.” Trey’s eyes never left mine. “I’m a fraud, babe. Born into this life by blood, not by family. I’ve been actin’ so long…playing a part I had to mold myself to fit. I like imported beer and hiking by the lake, but I also love having that steel beast underneath me, and a woman pressed against me from behind. Just the Harley, the highway, miles of pavement, and nothing between nature and us—sounds like a perfect day, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes, it does,” I whispered as he gently let go of my wrist and his arm swept around my waist. “You’re not a fraud, Trey. I don’t know why you left the Bastards and it’s none of my business, either. If you’re happier with the Saints then isn’t that what counts? This life…how can you say it wasn’t meant for you?”

  He pulled me closer until we were touching. All I could feel was the warmth of his body infusing, consuming, my own. Nothing existed outside our own little bubble and that was okay with me.

  “I didn’t leave the Bastards because I wanted to, babe.” He licked his lips and my eyes followed the salacious act. “I didn’t have a choice.”

  Okay, maybe I hadn’t outgrown damp panties but hadn’t found a man worthy of making it happen in a very long time. Trey had me feeling heart palpitations, damp palms; goose bumps covered my fair, freckled flesh, and my panties were indeed wet with my sex feeling as flushed as my face. “Why don’t you hold that thought,” I replied, after I regained a semblance of breath. “I’ll go get you a beer and a glass of wine for me.”

  He nodded before his arm dropped from my waist. The heat from him was missed immediately and my condo didn’t feel so warm or claustrophobic anymore. I felt numb, unable to process anything at all without his touch.

  I knew my behavior was irrational. I was acting like some crazed, love-starved teenager when men had never been a problem. I’d known Trey for a long time, so why did he have this power over me? Perhaps because he’d homed onto me like a goddamn missile seeking out its target and I was it. Finally, he had me in his sights and was determined not to let me slip away this time.