Durty caressed the strong tendons of his neck, sweeping down the angle of his back. She gasped in sweet agony with every stroke of his shaft, trying to get him deeper inside of her. Lifting her legs did the trick. She wrapped them around his waist, her heels pushing into his ass cheeks.
She was fully aware of his thighs brushing against hers, his taut stomach tightened even further with each thrust. His hardness electrified her. The only thing soft about him was his lips, feather light across the fluttering pulse at the base of her throat.
Durty’s thoughts fragmented as his hands and lips continued their hungry search of her body, his mouth greedily taking hold of a tight nub, raking his teeth over the sensitive flesh. “Oh God, please!”
Her cries grew louder with each thrust of his hips, the walls of her delta gripping the hard shaft tighter, threatening to push her over the edge of sanity.
Sting rolled his hips, and, in the blink of an eye, she was astride him, looking down at his angelic face locked in a mask of ecstasy. He was buried to the hilt. His shaft throbbing inside her was mind blowing.
Durty’s hips rocked on their own accord. She leaned back and placed her hands on his thighs to get an even deeper penetration, if that was even possible. Her nails dug into his flesh, his hands flying up to her hips, guiding the tempo to the rhythm they created.
Opening her eyes, Durty looked down at Sting. The way his hair fanned out under him, reminded her of angel’s wings, and he was taking her to heaven.
Chapter 26
Boys ‘round Here
Durty was insatiable.
Sting stayed with her for two days. The only time apart was to go to work. Otherwise, they were like jack rabbits. The only time they broke was for food and sleep. The more he learned about her, the more he was falling for her, which he didn’t think was possible.
She confided in him that the only one who knew her father’s identity was Lace. He issued her a personal loan from his own money for the Domino, not through the bank. It allowed Lace to avoid high interest rates and make her feel like she actually owned it, not the bank. If she defaulted, the bar went to Durty’s father.
Sting wasn’t so sure why a high society dame like Durty wanted a small-time blue collar like him. He didn’t belong in her world. He hadn’t even completed the military college before he’d been shipped out to war. He was nothing more than a mechanic and a biker. He didn’t even have cable, Netflix was his bestfriend.
She was a debutant, a member of the millionaire’s club, born with a silver spoon in her mouth. Yeah, she’d fallen on hard times. Durty rose above it, made something of herself and was right back in the golden saddle again.
And she wanted him.
God only knew why.
He was lucky he had a great job making money at H&T. He put most of it away in a savings account. He paid bills, got groceries, and that was it. She enjoyed the frivolities of life. The only thing they had in common was the club.
Maybe they were a bad idea.
Shaking his head to try and clear it, Sting stepped into the clubhouse. Eleven local Roja brothers milled about talking to one another. Two of his El Cajon brothers mixed with the crew at the bar with a couple of the Shades.
Jet stopped Sting, motioning him to sit at the table with him. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Mending some fences, why?” Sting motioned to Barbie, one of the Shades, to bring him a beer.
“No one’s heard from you in days, bro. All you’ve done is check in. No snarky comments from the peanut gallery in our chat.”
Sting chuckled, a half-hearted shrug given in response. He’d put his cell on vibrate because he knew how the guys could get talking in the group text. He didn’t check his phone for an hour and had over sixty unread messages. Plus, he really didn’t want the mood killed by Arnold yelling about the chopper.
“Oh, hell nah, bruh.” Jet shook his bald head, green eyes narrowing. “You smell like lavender. You’ve been at a chick’s house.”
Sting shook his head, not saying anything, though the smirk he sported was a tell-tale sign his brother was right. He took the beer Barbie brought him, wiping around the rim of the bottle before drinking from it.
“The Angel?” Jet’s brows shot up, shaking his head with a low whistle. “Dangerous territory there, Sting. Real dangerous.”
Like he didn’t already know that? “What can I say? I live dangerously.”
“Uhuh,” Jet snorted, index finger and thumb smoothing out the black horseshoe mustache. “Something ever happens between the two of you? Not only are you fucked, but so is the club.”
“How do you figure?” Sting glared at Jet, not too sure if he liked the idea of his brother meddling in his affairs.
“Durty gets hurt, Lace gets pissed. Lace gets pissed, she goes to Steel. Steel gets pissed, and you know what happens.”
Sting frowned, rotating the bottle with his hand. “I’ve talked to her about that. Club stays club, personal stays personal. There’s no mixing the two. It won’t survive if we do.”
“You say that now, but she’s female. How do you spell female? D-R-A-M-A.” Jet gave a firm nod, finishing his beer. “That’s why I steer clear of those ladies. I like my patch, I love the club more. If you two can separate club and personal, more power to you.”
Sting clinked the neck of his bottle against Jet’s when he offered it up. After another swig, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Have you had your eyes on one before?”
“Most of them are hot, so yeah. All the guys have had wet dreams about any one of them, but none of us have ever jumped off that cliff. Let’s just hope this shit isn’t a trend.”
Sting couldn’t help but laugh. Jet had a point. Most of the DAMC were hot. He was shocked no one crossed that line, but with Jet’s reasoning, he understood. “I think she’d quit before it caused any real drama.”
“Yeah, okay. Don’t believe that shit for a second.”
Sting believed it one hundred percent. After what he witnessed when she got pissed at the girls? She’d drop the club in a heartbeat. She was loyal to a fault, but if it caused her or anyone else pain? She’d hand her cut in with her head held high.
Sting was about to answer Jet, when T-Rex called for everyone to get to the chapel room. Turning off his phone, he placed it in the pile of others.
Taking his seat next to Jet, he set his half empty bottle in front of him. The room was packed. Fourteen members of the Muerte Roja sat around the table, waiting for Steel to give the reason behind the out of normal church meeting. Their two prospects, Spock and Poe, remained in the main room, keeping an eye on the Shades and the brother’s phones.
“The Angels have agreed to allow us to take part in their fight club. They’ll get a percentage for their kick-down, the Muerte waved their right to their kickback.” Steel rested back in his chair, placing his chin on the heel of his hand, his pointer finger tapping against his temple. “Vader is at a standstill right now. I don’t trust this so-called truce to last long. The girls have something he wants, and we all know how this punk ass bitch works. He’ll lay low, then strike when we least expect it.”
“What does he want?” A deep voice spoke up, Octane finally making his presence known.
The man was a beast and looked it. He was six-seven at about two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle. The dark hair of his Samoan heritage was cut short with the sides of his head shaved. Murderous black eyes hardly ever showed emotion. His overly tanned skin was decorated with tradition ink work of his people—a left arm tribal sleeve that extended over his pec was the most impressive.
Everyone tended to steer clear of him, his road name fitting his temper. Steel, Butcher, and Jet seemed to be the only brothers who could keep the insane man on a leash. He was the only one, next to T-Rex, who could fight several men at once, laughing the whole time.
“Information that could end the Warriors,” Steel confessed.
�
�So why aren’t they releasing the information? Wouldn’t that be the smart thing to do? That way the group would be gone, out of all our hair,” Sting reasoned, confused at why anyone would sit on that information, if it was that useful.
“One of the newest members has the information. If they release that information, it puts their club at risk, and I’m not willing to put our club at risk because we’d protect them. Which is why we’re offering our services.”
That got everyone’s attention. The Rojas started talking at once.
Steel slammed his gavel down, getting control of the room. “This is not up for discussion. Several of you will be picking up shifts at Domino, as well as the Battleground. Jet,” Steel looked over to Sting’s bestfriend. “You’ll be heading up the betting circuit. Sting, you’ll stay on point as head of security. I want Octane, Falcon, and T-Rex as your back up. I’ll be taking shifts at Domino with Rusty, Duke, and Copper.”
Butcher quirked a brow, looking at the men and then to Steel. “What am I? Chopped liver?”
Steel grinned, patting Butcher on the shoulder. “I don’t need my ass kicked by Andrea because you’re around the women all the time. She’s got a mean left jab.”
Butcher chuckled, shaking his dirty blond head. “Andy wouldn’t care. They’re sisters. Shit, she and Lace talk on the phone daily. I don’t like being left out, Steel.”
Sting tilted his head, pointing at Butcher. “I bet if you asked the girls to help in concessions, they’d love it.”
“Fuck you, Sting.” Butcher snarled in a playful manner.
“Seriously, bro. You have the meat shop. You could sell your stuff there, or sell them the product they need.”
Steel nodded. “Not a bad idea.”
Sting finished his beer, setting the bottle to the table. “I only see one problem with this.”
Jet snickered. “What? Your balls being handed back to you in front of everyone?”
Sting sucker punched Jet in gest, followed by a good natured one finger salute. “The other kid they hired, Xander. If we start bringing in brothers, the kid won’t have a job anymore.”
“Is that really a problem? Lace was complaining about him,” Steel said.
“Dude. Seriously?” Ripcurl said. “When Loco and I was there the other night? That fucking prick wasn’t anywhere to be found.”
“Yeah, man,” the tiny Latino agreed. “He came out after the fight ended. I barely saw him all night. When he was around, all that fucker did was stare at Viper.”
“I’ve noticed that too.” Sting drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair. “The way he watches her, he acts like he knows her.”
“Then it’s settled. We’ll help them out, starting tomorrow. Also,” Steel nudged Butcher with a grin and a bounce of his brows. “I think it’s time for the First Annual Red and Silver Paintball Wars.”
Chapter 27
True Friends
Lace strolled down the hospital corridor, the heavy thunk of her boots keeping her company. She was on a mission and nothing was going to stand in her way. She and Stellar needed to have a few words, and the outcome depended solely on Stellar.
Her tattooed hand pushed open the thick wooden door, the scent of bleach and air freshener washed through her nostrils, causing Lace to scrunch her nose in distaste. “They can find a cure for shit, but can’t find a decent smell for bleach?”
“Nice to see you too,” Stellar slurred between wired shut teeth.
She looked like shit. Her face was finally a shade of pale yellow, her normally brown eyes visible, no longer swollen closed. Her head was still wrapped in gauze, hiding the shaved area from her surgery. The stitched area of her jaw wasn’t as swollen, but still sported a tinge of black and blue.
“We need to talk.” Lace grabbed a chair, swinging it over to the bed and flopping down in it. She set the manila folder on her lap after she crossed her long legs. Tapping her fingers on the stiff paper, she tilted her head, debating on how to approach the subject at hand.
“That’s never a good sign,” Stellar mumbled while she tried to shift in her bed.
Lace set the folder to the side, pushed out of the chair, and stepped to the bed. “Lean forward.” She motioned for Stellar to move. Plumping up her pillows, she placed a hand on Stellar’s shoulder, easing her back onto them. “Better?”
It was a small movement, but Stellar nodded. “Much.”
“We’re going to have to change your name to Mumbles,” Lace teased lightly, not wanting to upset Stellar and cause her any more pain. “It’s going to be hard to hear you talk with your jaw wired shut, but hell. Imagine the weight you’ll lose.”
Stellar glared at Lace, flipping her off.
“I know, I’m a riot.” Lace wiggled her brows, taking her seat once more. “Seriously though, we need to talk. I want you to listen to me, very carefully. You’ve ran Domino for five years, you know the ins and outs, the ups and downs, season, etcetera etcetera. You’re basically doing everything on your own. I come in and check the books, which are always right, so I’m really not needed there.
“I’ve been giving thought to expanding, actually doing something for me, and opening the shop my dad and I always talked about. In order to do that, I’m going to have to sell Domino Effect.” Stellar was about to interrupt her judging by the wild look in her brown eyes and the way she leaned forward. “Don’t say a word until I’m done, nitwit.
“I’ll sell you Domino if you think you can handle it. You’re the only one I’d take that chance on, since it’s basically become your baby, and you’re there twenty-four seven. It’ll be different for you, since you won’t have a paycheck and now you’ll have employees. I want you to think about it. I’ve got the papers here, drawn up, for when you decide.”
“Where’s the pen?” Stellar half hissed, half slurred.
“You don’t have to decide today. You need to see if a bank will loan you the money first and you need to look the papers over with the prices I listed. It’s not exactly a low price, considering you’re getting everything in it. This is a life altering decision, Crissy. Not one to make lightly.”
“I can get a loan. I’m not worried about that.” Stellar started to cough, her arm flying around her ribs.
Lace grabbed a free pillow from the foot of the bed and pressed it against Stellar’s torso, covering her ribs and stomach. “Hold this when you cough. It’ll be easier on you. Need a drink of water?”
“Please,” Stellar gasped out, doubled over.
Picking up the huge plastic cup of water, Lace angled the straw for Stellar to drink from. “When you get out of here, we’ll get you to the bank and figure this shit out. Okay?”
“I’m supposed to be released tomorrow.”
Lace frowned, turning her head to the right in confusion. “That seems awful quick.”
“Said I’m good to go. I want to go home, be around everyone. I miss you guys.”
“Hey, I’m glad you’re ready. Don’t get me wrong, Stellar. I just want to be sure that nothing can go wrong.” Last thing Lace wanted was for Stellar to have some sort of seizure because her head wasn’t healed, and she was released to early.
“Can’t get rid of me that easily. They’ll give me pain killer and antidepressant scrips to pick up, and then I’ll be a free bird.”
“Antidepressants?” Lace leaned forward, setting her elbows to her thighs.
“Dr. DeMedici says people tend to go through severe depression when they have a near death experience. It’s completely natural.” Stellar paused, her facial expression pained.
“I can see that.” Lace nodded while she rose from the chair. “I’ve got to jet. I’ll be here in the morning to bring you home. That okay?”
A blush crept up Stellar’s cheeks. “I’ve got a ride.”
Lace stopped at the side of the bed, a slow smile forming. “Uhuh. Right. Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Dr. DeMedici.”
Chapter 28
Candy Shop
It was odd seeing his brothers wandering about Domino without cuts, only security shirts on. Sting wasn’t sure if there was an ad placed about reopening and with new bouncers, but the club was flooded with more women than usual, and his brothers were eating that shit up.
Duke was surrounded by a group of girls, who had his shirt pulled up and were fondling his twelve-pack abs. Copper stood off to the side of the dance floor, engaged in a conversation with several women, who all stared dreamily at the Irishman, enjoying his brogue.
Steel, on the other hand, was all business. Sting secretly suspected Lace would’ve put his nuts in her pocket if she found him flirting with anyone other than her. He debated on playing cupid with the two, since it was blatantly obvious they belonged together, but neither of them was going to make the first move.
Damn teenagers.
Sting hung back from the door, watching Xander. The kid was impressive, there was no disputing that. There was just something about the way he acted that sent up red flags. Xander flirted with a few of the females, but remained oddly aware of his surroundings. He allowed the women to think he was involved completely in their conversation, acting like he was keeping eye contact with them, but was consistently checking on Viper’s whereabouts.
Sting shook his head with an exasperated sigh. It was time to nip this shit in the ass. Weaving through the throng of bodies, he came to a stop beside Xander. “This is the deal, Xman.” Sting folded his arms over his chest, rocking back on booted heels. When Xander looked quizzically at him, he spoke, knowing he had the kid’s full attention. “I’m not the only one who’s noticed you’re slacking. You’re distracted, you’re never around when the shit hits the fan, and you show up right after. All your attention is on pussy.”
He angled his head in the direction of Viper, carefully scrutinizing Xander’s reaction.
Xander’s face turned red, his eyes darting away from the red head, clearing his throat. “Yeah, well.”
Policy of Truth (Sacred Heart Continuum Series Book 1) Page 19
