Impulsively (Dante's Nine MC)

by Colleen Masters

  “You’re so fucking tight,” he growls, slipping a third finger into my wet, wanting slit, “There’s no way you’ve ever been with a real man. Before now.”

  “Show me what it’s like, then,” I gasp desperately.

  “Don’t worry,” he grins, resting his thumb against my throbbing clit. Sensation sears through me as he rubs that aching nub, hard and tight with need. “I will.”

  Just as my lips fall open to beg for his perfect cock, sharp pinpricks shoot out from my chest. This isn’t the wonderful, borderline pain of bites and tugs. What the hell...?

  My conscious mind snaps to attention, dragging me out of the depths of fantasy. I blink my groggy eyes, looking wildly around the room for my dangerous lover. But instead of finding him looming over me in the low light of morning, I find someone much smaller. And fuzzier. And that someone happens to have his claws lodged in my chest.

  “Dammit, Mayor,” I grumble, shooing my new pet away and rolling over in my empty twin bed, “way to be a buzzkill.”

  I can’t believe that Brooks made his way into my dreams. Or rather, I can absolutely believe it, but I’m still totally freaked out. There’s no way around it—I’ve spent the night fantasizing about fucking a man I just met. On the couch in my new office. Where I’m posing undercover as someone else entirely. I know that dreams are supposed to be random firings of brain activity or whatever, but come on. There’s not much ambiguity to what that little sexy nighttime romp could mean.

  It’s already nine in the morning. I’m supposed to report to the CrowdedNest offices at ten for my first day of work. Well, Keira’s first day. I’ve already logged a couple days of labor on this case. But now is when the real work begins. Forcing the lingering thoughts of Brooks from my mind, I grab my cell and give Mitchell a ring. He picks up and barks into the phone, clearly wide awake.

  “Get a move on, Sleeping Beauty,” he orders me. “You just got this job with the old ladies. Don’t want to lose it on your first day.”

  “Gee. Thanks, Mitchell. Your vote of confidence is overwhelming,” I grumble.

  “When you deliver some information we can actually use against these maniacs, I’ll shower you in confidence,” he replies, taking a minute to calm himself before going on. “In all seriousness, Collins, I’m sure you’ll do a great job with this. You’re really going to be a huge help to this operation.”

  This little injection of encouragement surprises me. “Thanks, Mitchell,” I reply, “I’ll check in with you at the end of the day.”

  We’re just about to hang up when my call waiting starts beeping. I glance down at my phone and see Milo’s name and number. What’s with all this outreach suddenly? I couldn’t pay him to drop me a line unprompted while we were dating. With a sigh, I answer my sorta-ex’s call.

  “What’s going on, Milo?” I ask.

  “Quinn,” he croaks, “it’s you.”

  “Jesus, Milo,” I mutter, “you sound like hell.”

  “I’ve been in hell since you broke up with me,” he whines accusatorially.

  “Milo, my friend, I feel for you, but I don’t have time for this,” I tell him. “I’m working on a case, you know this.”

  “Do you even care that I’m hurting?” he snaps. “This is your fault, Quinn. We had a great thing going.”

  “We had a terrible thing going, Milo!” I exclaim. “You were the lousiest boyfriend in the history of, well, everything.”

  “Now you’re just being cruel,” he moans.

  “Listen,” I say, “use this as a learning experience. Don’t treat your next girlfriend like a speck of dirt on your carpet, and this won’t keep happening to you. But I’m an FBI agent, not a teacher. It’s not my job to keep educating you.”

  “But—”

  “I have to go now,” I cut him off, “I have a criminal organization to help dismantle.”

  I hang up the phone before he can protest and drag myself into the shower. As the hot water washes over my skin, I can’t help but remember the words Brooks kept uttering in my dream. There’s no way you’ve ever been with a real man. Apparently even my subconscious is keenly aware of how lacking my sexual history has been. No wonder I keep fantasizing about Brooks. It’s not that I’m actually interested in him as a person, I’m just fascinated by the idea of fucking a real, manly man. But I’m sure I can manage to find one who isn’t also an obstinate, headstrong, loose cannon.

  Hopefully, those aren’t the parts I’m actually attracted to.

  “Good morning, Ms. Campbell!” says the friendly doorman I met yesterday at Kassie’s building. “So nice to see you again.”

  “Morning...Franklin,” I say, fetching the man’s name from the tag on his uniform, “I’m glad to be here!”

  That’s not a lie, either. This is the most excitement I’ve had in years. Even if I’ll still be sitting behind a computer all day. Getting to spend time with women my own age will be a nice change of pace from the sausage fest of my San Bernardino office.

  “You can go right up,” Franklin tells me, “the ladies are expecting you. You look lovely this morning, by the way.”

  “Thank you,” I reply, glancing down at my carefully put-together outfit. I followed Kassie and Kelly’s lead a bit more today, rather than my techie ex’s. I’m rocking a pair of black skinny jeans, an ultra-soft yellow tee, and a fishtail braid. And of course, my glasses. They’re almost like a mask for me to hide behind while I play the role of Keira Campbell. Whatever works, right?

  I take the elevator all the way to the top, my pulse picking up with every passing floor. I wonder if Brooks will be around today? Tiberi said he’d be working at the Dante’s Nine auto shop most of the time, but who knows? Probably I should be hoping that he’s fixing an engine somewhere, but I’d be lying if I said I’m not hoping to see him. No harm in enjoying the view, as he would say. There’s no getting around the fact that he’s an attractive man. As forbidden as our getting together would be, a girl can dream. Quite literally.

  I smile at my reflection in the mirror that hangs in the penthouse landing. This Keira is a sharp dresser. Why is it so much easier to feel good about myself when I’m someone else? Ugh. Best save the psychological quandaries for another day. I rap my knuckles on the door to suite B, adjusting the strap of my messenger bag. It’s tugging on the neckline of my tee shirt, exposing the very top of my bra. But before I can get my clothes in order, the door swings open.

  “Hey—Oh...” I sputter, staring dumbly through the doorway.

  Brooks towers before me in all his cut, inked glory, wearing nothing but a bath towel wrapped around his tapered waist. Of their own accord, my eyes skirt down his built torso, right down the ripped v at his hips—two lines of pristine muscle pointing right at the part of his body I spent the night dreaming about.

  “Hey yourself,” he says, cocking an eyebrow at me.

  I wrangle my face into an expression of indifference, but my entire body is buzzing with amorous sensation. His dark curls are still wet from the shower, and tiny droplets of water cascade down his amazing body. OK, so I am totally turned on. I’m only human.

  “You gonna let me in?” I ask him, planting my hands on my hips.

  “Only if you tell me the password,” he replies, leaning against the doorframe.

  “How’s ‘some of us actually have jobs to do’ for a password?” I quip.

  “That’ll do it,” he grins. “Nice bra, Red.”

  I blush instantly, adjusting the neck of my tee as I hurry past him. “I told you, don’t call me Red.”

  “Can’t help it, Red,” he shrugs, “those locks of yours are impossible to ignore. Embrace it—you’re gorgeous.”

  Thankfully, Kassie and Kelly appear from behind the door of suite A before I have to formulate a response to that. They roll their eyes at the perfect specimen of man that is Brooks, parading around in his towel.

  “Are you familiar with the phrase ‘hostile work environment’?” Kelly demands, brushing into the room. />
  “Me? Hostile?” Brooks replies, running a hand through his wet curls. “What are you talking about? I’m a goddamn delight to be around.”

  “Walking around half naked is borderline sexual harassment,” Kassie informs him, “and even if you don’t think that counts as hostile, you’re going to make me hostile if you don’t stop bothering my new coworker.”

  “I’m not bothered,” I say, before I can help it. “I mean—I’m not easily offended.”

  “That’s good, given our present company,” Kelly mutters, settling down at the long wooden table.

  “Come on. I’m not that bad,” Brooks insists, as Kassie and I follow Kelly’s lead. “You’ll grow to love me, I promise.”

  “I’m happily in love with my own hard-headed bad boy,” Kelly remarks.

  “That goes double for me,” Kassie chimes in.

  “Guess it’s just you and me then, Red,” Brooks smiles, shooting me a wicked wink. “What do you say?”

  “Keep on with that wishful thinking, buddy,” I shoot back. “Whatever helps you get through the day.”

  “So damn feisty. I’m into it,” he says, turning to go. “You’re gonna be at my party tonight, right Red?”

  “You’re seriously throwing yourself a housewarming party? In our office?” I ask.

  “No. He’s not quite that audacious,” Kassie says. “The rest of the Dante’s Nine guys—sorry, that’s the MC Dec’s a part of—they’re throwing him a welcome bash at their clubhouse later tonight.”

  “My old man’s MC will be there too,” Kelly puts in. “They’re friendly these days. So once we get a little work done here, we’re gonna have to do some party shopping.”

  “You don’t have to come along on those errands if you don’t want to,” Kassie says quickly, “We didn’t hire you to be a gopher. And of course, your attendance at the party is not a required part of this job. No matter what this guy says.”

  “Actually,” I say, trying to keep the excitement out of my voice, “I could stand to blow off some steam. And I don’t mind helping you get stuff ready for the party.”

  “Really?” Kassie and Kelly say in unison.

  “I knew you’d come around,” Brooks smiles, heading into the suite’s bedroom. “I’ll make sure you have a good time, Red.”

  “Thanks for caring, buddy,” I quip, “your concern is truly touching.”

  “Much more than touching,” he corrects me, “but not until you’re ready for me.”

  The bedroom door snaps closed behind him as Kassie and Kelly shake their heads.

  “If you want to punch him, you have my blessing,” Kelly tells me.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I smile.

  We spend a couple of hours talking at length about CrowdedNest and my role in the company. But inside, I’m throwing myself a damn parade. First day on the job and I’ve already scored a look at the Dante’s Nine clubhouse? Mitchell’s going to give me a medal.

  It’s much easier to concentrate once Brooks heads off to the auto shop, looking as gorgeous as ever in light denim jeans and a white tee beneath his Dante’s Nine cut. I can feel my body yearning for him as he walks out the door. I’ve never been this physically drawn to someone. Is it because he’s off limits that I feel this wanting so keenly?

  “Keira?” Kassie says, dragging my attention back to the present. “Does that all sound good to you?”

  “Oh. Yeah,” I reply brightly. We’ve been talking about the sort of work I’ll do at CrowdedNest, but my attention has strayed in a big way.

  “Great,” Kelly says, “now enough of this work talk. Let’s blow this pop stand and get on over to the Forty-Five Club.”

  “What’s that?” I ask, as we stand to go.

  “That’s the Dante’s Nine clubhouse,” Kassie clarifies, “a bar outside of town. It’s a little rough around the edges, but I think you’ll like it.”

  “I know we don’t really fit the biker chick mold,” Kelly grins, “but I think you’ll see that we run with a rather...boisterous crowd. You sure you want to tag along?”

  “Hell yeah. I can’t wait to meet everyone,” I smile gamely.

  “Oh. But before we go,” Kassie says, looking over my techie chic outfit, “we need to do something about...all this.”

  “You don’t like it?” I ask, looking myself over.

  “We love it,” Kelly says, “for here the office. But you’ll get eaten alive by the guys and the girls if you show up to the party looking like a J Crew model.”

  “Let me lend you a couple of things,” Kassie insists, grabbing me by the wrist and towing me away. We cross the landing into Suite A, a space even more impressive than the first. There’s something incredibly, and surprisingly, controlled about the place. I’d expect the VP and old lady of an MC to live somewhere a bit more...gritty, I guess. But I’m starting to suspect that I have a lot of misconceptions about the MC life.

  I’m led into Kassie and Tiberi’s bedroom, and the girls begin dressing me at once. Thank god I’m not wearing a wire right now. They let me keep my black skinny jeans, but swap my yellow tee for a white crop top, tousle my hair into its natural red curls and swipe ruby red across my lips. My flats are replaced with stilettos, and the transformation is complete.

  “Well?” Kelly prompts, leading me over to a full-length mirror. “What do you think?”

  My jaw drops as I look myself over in the mirror. I’ve never been so vamped up in my life. Each curve and angle is perfectly accentuated, and the overall impression is, well, kind of overwhelming. “I think...you made me into a babe,” I breathe, staring back at my own blue eyes.

  “Come on. You’re already a babe,” Kassie laughs, “Please tell me you know that.”

  “Oh, um...” I stammer, unsure. I’ve certainly never been called a babe before.

  “Oh, my god!” Kelly exclaims. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you?”

  “I guess I do OK,” I shrug, eyeing my improved reflection. Now I really feel like I have a costume to hide behind.

  “We need to work on this confidence deficit,” Kassie laughs. “There’s no reason someone as beautiful, funny, and talented as you should ever feel like less than a million bucks.”

  At a loss for words, I simply smile at my new bosses. And dare I say...friends? It’s only been a day, but I already feel so at ease around these women. That is, until I remember what it is I’m really doing here. I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to investigate.

  “Why don’t we get a move on?” I suggest, not wanting to think about how two-faced I really feel. “I can’t wait to see the clubhouse.”

  We set off together in Kassie’s smoking red muscle car. Only the best for Declan Tiberi’s old lady, I guess. Reading up on the Dante’s Nine VP, I found out that he’s got money to burn and then some. His personal and club finances have always been dubiously entwined, a fact that could get him in trouble down the line, depending on how Operation Inferno goes. Part of me almost hopes that we don’t find anything in our investigation. That way, Kassie and Kelly would never have to find out that I tried to take them down. But why do I care so much what they think? I can’t let myself get attached.

  Chapter Seven

  After we’ve gathered up all the party supplies we need, the three of us finally set off for the Dante’s Nine clubhouse. Kassie’s car is loaded with barbecue fixings and enough booze to get a small army wasted off their asses. But then, I guess that’s exactly what we’re setting out to do here.

  I force myself to take deep breaths as we drive out past the main Las Vegas drag. This was not part of the plan. I was supposed to gather intel about CrowdedNest and leave it at that. I hope this risk I’m taking doesn’t blow up in my face.

  “Here we are,” Kassie says at last, as we approach a couple of low building rising out of the horizon, “home sweet home!”

  I stare out the window at the Dante’s Nine headquarters. An unassuming, brick-faced bar is the first thing I see. Neon beer logos l
ight up the front window, and a good dozen Harleys are already parked outside. Above the door is a large sign bearing the sigil of Dante’s Nine—a pair of dice rolling a four and a five.

  Adjacent to the bar is a new-looking auto shop, fitted with all the best equipment that money can buy. That must be where Brooks and some of the other guys work during the day. The shop looks impressive, but I have a hard time imagining that its proceeds alone could keep an MC flush with cash. Bruno is right. It’s got to be a front for something.

  Kassie parks in front of the beat-up bar, and the three of us step out into the warm early evening. I can hear the sound of carousing voices from inside, and I steel myself as best I can. Walking into a den of MC types without spitting isn’t going to be easy for me, but I’m discovering that I’m a pretty decent actress. Besides, I’m not doing anything wrong by being here. If they’re not hiding anything, we’ve got no problem. Fixing my face with an expression of interested curiosity, I follow Kassie and Kelly inside.

  The smell of whiskey and cigarette smoke hits me hard as we cross the threshold. I blink around the dimly lit space and feel dozens of hard eyes staring back. I quickly count nine men in black leather cuts. That means that the entirety of the Dante’s Nine MC is spread around the bar before me. I scan the weathered faces I’ve only ever seen plastered on Mitchell’s wall at the FBI. It’s so bizarre to finally be seeing them up close.

  There’s Declan Tiberi, of course, making his way toward Kassie. The stout, grizzly man he’s been talking to must be Kenneth “Kip” Sanders. The twin bouncer types shooting pool are Frank and Teddy O’Leary. Oliver “Ollie” Jenkins is the one with the face tattoo, and Chuck Morrelli is the wiry one who looks like he’d kill you while your back was turned. John Baxter sits coolly at the bar, looking at me with mild curiosity while sharing a drink with the other oldest club member, Saul Ellison. That makes eight.

  And then, of course, there’s the ninth and newest member of Dante’s Nine. Brooks.

  He leans casually against the bar, his strong hand wrapped around an ice-cold beer bottle. A smudge of engine grease arches across his cheek, somehow rendering him even more ruggedly handsome. His bright green eyes are roving all along my body, but for once he doesn’t seem ready to make a joke at my expense. I realize that he’s actually too caught off guard by my new look to speak. When his eyes finally find my face, I feel my knees go weak. He wants me. Bad. I can tell from the urgency in his gaze. And in this moment I’m reminded for the thousandth time how much I want him, too.