Impulsively (Dante's Nine MC)

by Colleen Masters

  A battalion of butterflies tears through my stomach. If Brooks knows there was another reason for my wanting to leave the club, besides my desperate want of him, he’s not letting on. That’s just fine with me. Right now, that’s all I can think about, too.

  “There,” Brooks says, as the padlock pops open, “All ours.”

  He rips the length of chain from the handle and wrenches open the door. With the flick of a switch, a few dim lights glow to life, lending the bar an impossibly sexy feel. I take a step toward Brooks, sliding my hands along his cut arms. We stand in the open doorway, on the brink of getting what we’ve craved through so many sleepless nights.

  “You’re shaking, Red,” Brooks whispers roughly, slipping his arms around my waist.

  “Just excited,” I smile. “And maybe a little nervous.”

  “Don’t be,” he growls, leading me across the threshold, “You may have never been with a real man before, but you’re nothing if not a real woman. We were built for each other, babe.”

  He kicks the door closed with his steel-toed boot, shutting us inside the shadowy bar. My heart is thrashing against my ribs as Brooks presses me back against the heavy wooden door. His powerful hips pin me there as his hands roam the length of my body. I look up at him in the low light, marveling at the passion that sparks in those emerald eyes. Slowly, savoring every moment, I trail my fingertips over the hard panes of his chest, across each defined ab, following the lines of his muscular waist. Finally, my hands alight on the stiff, throbbing length between his legs.

  “I can’t believe I get to touch you like this,” I breathe, feeling the sheer enormity of him through the well-worn denim.

  “Believe it,” he rasps, cupping my breasts through my thin cotton tee shirt. He rubs his thumbs across the hard peaks of my nipples as I slide my hands along the length of him. I can feel him growing harder by the second.

  All at once, he drops his hands from my breasts, and I feel him parting my legs. He slides his hands between my thighs, and a deep, pulsing pressure builds in my core. I’m already wet for him as his hands rub against my slit. We stroke each other through our incidental clothing, each trying like hell to drive the other mad. And it works, too.

  “That’s it,” Brooks growls, knocking my hands away, “I need you, Red. Now.”

  I gasp as he scoops me up off the floor, taking me in his arms. I wrap my legs around his tapered waist, groaning as his cock presses against my covered slit. Our mouths find each other at once as he carries me across the room in three long strides. His kiss is deep, searing. I shudder with delight as his tongue sweeps into my mouth. The taste of him dances across my tongue as I bury my fingers in his thick chestnut curls.

  He slams me up against the bar, holding me there on the long wooden slab. I kiss along his strong, scruffy jaw, pressing my lips to the crook of his throat. My arms are wrapped around his strong, broad shoulders as he untangles my ankles behind his back. He lays his hands on my knees, pushing my legs open until they’re splayed before him. A low moan escapes my lips as he cups my throbbing sex through my jeans.

  “Stay,” he commands. I obediently grab onto the edge of the bar to brace myself. With his gleaming eyes fixed on my flushed face, he pops open the button of my jeans, tugging the denim down my legs, over my ass. I kick my feet out of my skinny jeans and let them fall to the floor. Brooks runs his hands up my bare thighs, his breath coming hard and fast.

  “Those for me?” he grins, nodding at my lacy red panties.

  “Of course,” I breathe, as he runs his fingers up toward my sex. “I’ve been dreaming about this, Brooks. Really—”

  “Shhh...” he commands, pushing my thighs even further apart, “Trust me. This will be better than any dream you’ve ever had.”

  I suck in a huge breath as he lowers his mouth to that place between my legs. His green eyes flick upward to mine as he takes the edge of my panties in his strong teeth. He tears the flimsy garment away, ripping along the delicate seam. The scrap of red lace falls to the ground, and I’m totally bare. My blue eyes blaze as I stare at this incredible man, and I spread myself wide open before him.

  “Jesus Red,” Brooks breathes, taking me in, “Do you have any idea how sexy you are?”

  Before I can answer, he brushes his full lips against the tender skin of my inner thigh, working his way up...and up. Every word I’ve ever known falls away as I feel his breath against my wet sex. My knees tremble uncontrollably as he lays two fingers against me, tracing all along my slit.

  “I love that I do this to you,” he groans, circling my swollen clit with his fingertips, “I’m going to make you come so hard, Red...”

  “Oh my god,” I moan, as he slides two strong fingers inside of me, stroking that aching spot with expert precision, “How do you know how to touch me like this?”

  “I told you,” he growls, “We were built for this.”

  My head falls back as Brooks lowers his lips to my slick sex. His firm lips close around my hard, aching clit as he thrusts his fingers deeper into me. I cry out as he flicks the tip of his tongue against that tender nub, sending shockwaves of bliss through my entire body. I’m barreling toward oblivion, unable to control myself. Brooks traces fast, hard circles around my clit as his strong fingers collide with that delicious spot inside of me.

  “Come for me, Red,” he urges.

  And with that, I’m a fucking goner.

  One last flick of his tongue, and I topple over the edge. I come hard, my back arching as I cling desperately to the edge of the bar. He holds me up as the waves of pleasure pass through me, ripping open the buckle of his belt with a flick of the wrist. I tug down his jeans and briefs, freeing his gorgeous member at last. I take his cock in my eager hands, blown away by its enormity. But this is no time to gape in admiration.

  I draw his throbbing cock against me, holding the very tip of him against my wet slit. My body still pulses with the pleasure he sent rocking through me as we pause, suspended before unknowable ecstasy. We lock eyes, and I brace myself against the bar. With one last flash of that crooked smile, Brooks bucks his powerful hips, driving his thick cock inside of me at long last.

  My mouth falls open as his mighty manhood fills me up, splits me open. I feel him at the very center of me, hard and throbbing. I throw my arms around his shoulders as he rears back and thrusts again, colliding with parts of me that have never been touched. He’s twice as big as any man I’ve ever had, but I only want more. As much of him as I can possibly take. I arch into his every pass, meeting him stroke for stroke.

  “Christ, you’re so tight...” he groans, digging his fingers into my hips. “You’ve already got me at the edge, Red.”

  “Good,” I breathe, grinning at him breathlessly, “I want to feel you come inside me, Brooks. I want you to fill me up.”

  He lets out a low, ragged moan. “I love how dirty you talk,” he says, tangling his fingers in my long hair.

  “Let me feel all of you,” I beg, clutching his cut in my quaking hands, “Please, Brooks.”

  I feel my back hit the smooth wood of the bar as Brooks stretches me out along the cool surface. He swings himself up, lowering his gorgeous body onto mine. His staggering form envelops me as I feel his raging desire part my silky flesh once more. I grab onto his sculpted ass, pulling him in as deep as I can. He pins me to the bar with every thrust, holding himself up on inked, corded arms. I watch as his eyes close beneath furrowed brows. He’s teetering on the edge now. Time to make him soar.

  “Come,” I whisper.

  That one word is all it takes. With a fierce, guttural roar, Brooks loses it. I let my eyes flutter closed as I feel him erupt inside me. The thick surge of his desire gushes into me as he thrusts one last time. I savor the feeling of him, coating the very depths of me, leaving a piece of himself behind.

  Brooks falls onto his forearms, suspended above me. Our chests rise and fall together, and for a moment we’re beyond words. He brushes a stray lock of hair from my forehead
as I trace the scar across his eyebrow. The rest of the world slowly comes back into focus as he presses his lips to mine. I catch his scruffy face in my hands, letting my tongue brush against his. I catch the lingering taste of myself on his lips, and my discovery makes me shudder delightedly.

  I knew that giving myself to Brooks, having him for my own at last, would be amazing. But I had no way of imagining that it could be this good.

  “You’re amazing, Keira,” Brooks tells me, his voice low and husky.

  “You called me Keira,” I say, taken aback, “What happened to Red?”

  Brooks shrugs at my observation, smiling down at me in the darkness. But my own heart threatens to split in two. He has no idea that my real name isn’t Keira, or Red, but Quinn. He doesn’t know the first thing about me. And yet, for all that, I feel closer to him than any man I’ve ever met. How am I supposed to walk away from this, once the investigation is over? What choice do I have?

  “What’s the matter?” he asks, lowering himself back to the ground. He fetches my jeans and helps me into them as I shake my head in wonder.

  “I, uh...” I stammer. “I didn’t expect the night to go this way.”

  “But you’re happy it did, aren’t you?” he asks, helping me to stand. My knees are weak, my body throbs with sated contentment.

  “Oh yeah,” I grin, resting my hands on the front of his cut, “happy doesn’t begin to cover it, Brooks.”

  “I don’t know about you,” he says, his hands finding the small of my back, “but I could use a smoke right about now.”

  “Bum me one?” I ask, lacing my fingers with his.

  “Only because I like you,” he winks, tugging me toward the exit.

  We walk out of the Forty-Five Club hand in hand, slamming the front door behind us. I realize with a laugh that we’ve never held hands before this moment. It’s strange how the smallest gestures can still feel so intimate.

  I take a stumbling step as my thoughts catch up with me. I stare up at him in the moonlight, studying the outline of his profile as he looses a Marlboro and slips it between his lips. I can feel that pulsing pressure in my core once again, only this time I realize that it’s more than lust building inside me.

  I’m seriously falling for Caleb Brooks.

  “For you,” Brooks smiles, handing me a cigarette of my own.

  “Thank Christ,” I mutter, inhaling deeply as Brooks sparks the lighter to life. “I need this right about now.”

  “I know what you mean,” he laughs, leaning against the brick wall of the bar.

  Could he really know what I mean, I wonder? I study him in the darkness, cataloguing every part of his perfect self. Is it possible that someone like Brooks could come to love me? The real me? It doesn’t do me any good if he only falls for Keira, after all. But I’m starting to realize that my alias and I aren’t too different. Except for, you know, the whole FBI thing.

  “I’m glad you wanted to get out of the Playpen so badly,” Brooks says, pulling me toward him. He slings an arm over my shoulders, dragging on his cigarette as he stares up at the starry night sky.

  “Guess I’m still getting used to this world,” I say softly, watching the smoke catch on the light wind.

  “Is that something you’d want?” Brooks asks gruffly, glancing at me. “To, uh, get used to this life?”

  “You asking me to stick around, Brooks?” I smile, my pulse quickening.

  “I am. Yeah,” he says, his voice as soft as I’ve ever heard it. “I like having you around, Red. And look—it turns out you’re a decent lay too.”

  “You asshole,” I laugh, elbowing him in the ribs. I’m grateful for him lightening the mood, I have to admit.

  “You love it,” he says, taking a long drag.

  And he’s right. I do love it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Now that we’ve finally had each other, Brooks and let our insatiability rule us. The next few days pass in a whirl of sexual frenzy. We only had to spend a week wanting each other. Technically. But now that I know what it’s like to be with Brooks, I realize that I’ve been waiting my whole life for someone to make me feel this way. With him, I feel sexy. Wanted. But it’s not just that. I’m as hungry to give him pleasure as he is to give it. For the first time, I’ve found someone who takes the “partner” part of sexual partner seriously.

  And it’s incredible.

  We fall into each other’s arms every chance that we get. At the penthouse, at the Forty-Five Club, under the stars off some deserted dirt road. Beds, couches, spread-out blankets—we settle for any surface that will accommodate us. Only one place has remained off limits so far: my FBI-issued apartment. I even brave the Devil’s Playpen a couple more times, Bruno be damned. But I don’t catch sight of him again.

  It’s been radio silence from Bruno since our run in the other night. I’ve checked in with Mitchell over the phone, but haven’t been expected at the field office. Not until today, that is—the Tuesday after that fateful Friday night. I try not to think about my viciously territorial fellow agent as I spend the weekend memorizing Brooks’ body. For the most part, it’s easy to do. But as I drift to sleep each night, the angry gaze of Jeff Bruno swims up in my mind’s eye.

  I can’t imagine why, but I have the feeling that there’s much to fear from this person. And it’s not my mind or my heart telling me not to trust him, it’s my gut. And my gut is never wrong.

  On the morning I’m due at the field office once again, I wake up in Brooks’ penthouse bedroom. We’ve made no effort to hide our affair from Kassie and Kelly, nor any of the others. There would be no reason to. Outlaws are far less touchy about sexual promiscuity, it turns out. And thank god—I’m already hiding enough, posing as Keira Campbell. I don’t think I could stand to hide my feelings for Brooks, too.

  I steal a glance at my man’s sleeping face. His hard, sculpted features are softened by slumber and stillness. Gently, so as not to wake him, I brush my fingers against his sharp jaw, his perfectly full lips, the scar bisecting his brow. I have yet to tell Brooks just how hard I’ve fallen for him. How could I? For all I know, I could be ripped out of this entire life in less than a week. No use letting him get any more attached than he has to.

  Slipping out from under his thickly muscled arm, I throw on yesterday’s clothes and steal out into the day. I ease the penthouse door shut behind me and summon the elevator to the top floor. Just as the car arrives, the door marked “A” swings open, and Kassie steps out into the hallway. She’s dressed in stylish gym clothes, her long blonde hair drawn into a high ponytail and she looks pleasantly surprised as she spots me in the hallway.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” she chuckles, giving me a hug.

  I wrap my arms around her, grateful for the comforting touch. “Just heading back to my place for a shower,” I fib.

  “At this point, you should probably just move in here,” she says, as we step into the elevator, “You’ve slept here almost every night this weekend. I take it things are going well with the newest of the Nine?”

  “Very well,” I allow, leaning back against the elevator wall.

  “You don’t seem entirely thrilled about that,” Kassie observes, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Is everything alright between you and Brooks?”

  “Everything is amazing with him,” I sigh. “I just...my history is a little...complicated.”

  “I know how that goes,” she says, a swell of sadness darkening her eyes. “If it makes you feel any better, we’re all a little bit fucked up around here. Brooks included.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “You’ll have to ask him that question,” she replies. “I don’t want to get in the middle of you two. But there’s more to him than you might expect.”

  “No...I could have guessed that,” I say. “Maybe that’s why we understand each other.”

  “If you ever want to talk to someone,” Kassie says, brushing my shoulder, “you know that I’m here, right?”

&n
bsp; “I do,” I smile sadly. I wish I could be as good a friend to her as she’s trying to be to me. “Thanks, Kassie.”

  “Don’t mention it,” she says, as we step into the lobby, “That’s what friends are for.”

  Kassie heads off to the gym as I slide into my Mustang, which I’ve finally started driving around between here and the clubhouse. To my delight, my ride has impressed some of the MC brothers, even if it is technically a “cage”, as they would say.

  My mind wheels wildly as I start the car and take off toward the field office. What could Kassie know about Brooks that I don’t? What secrets darken his past and present? I certainly don’t hold it against him, his not telling me. Our relationship resides strictly in the present, after all. Still, I can’t help but be curious.

  “All in time, if ever,” I mutter to myself, guiding my Mustang through the Las Vegas streets. I set the thought aside and wrangle my focus back to the task at hand—figuring out how to make things right with Bruno for the duration of this case. Something tells me that my fellow agent is not going to make that easy for me.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I pause outside the conference room door, steeling myself against Bruno’s inevitable wrath. It’s time to face the music, at last. I can hear Mitchell and Bruno speaking in hushed, excited voices behind the door. Taking a deep breath, I turn the handle and step into the room to join them.

  “Hey, Collins,” Mitchell says merrily, “Good to have you here in the flesh again.”

  “Thanks Mitchell,” I reply, my eyes fixed on the back of Bruno’s head. He’s turned away from me, surveying the wall of intelligence. He doesn’t turn to welcome me, but he doesn’t jump down my throat, either. I haven’t mentioned to Mitchell yet that I’ve swung by the Devil’s Playpen. But has Bruno said anything about our encounter there?

  “Anything to report from the front lines?” Mitchell asks, sitting on the edge of the conference table. “How’s your lover boy doing?”