Impulsively (Dante's Nine MC)

by Colleen Masters

  “It’s very, uh...” Brooks says, eyeing my threadbare couch.

  “Spartan?” I offer, holding out a beer to him.

  “Sure,” he laughs, snatching up the bottle.

  An inquisitive meow rings out through the apartment as The Mayor pokes his head around the corner of the kitchen. His big eyes swing back and forth between Brooks and I. I swear to god, I think that cat is judging my life choices as he pads back into this shadows.

  “You...have a cat,” Brooks observes.

  “No crazy cat lady jokes,” I warn.

  “I just would’ve pegged you for a dog person,” Brooks shrugs. He takes a step toward me, looking me up and down. “This place is not exactly what I expected. But I guess I should be used to surprises from you by now. Right, Red?”

  “I’m afraid I’m only getting started with the surprises,” I whisper, laying my hands on the front of his cut.

  “Hey,” he says, lifting my chin with his index finger, “I don’t want you thinking you have to keep things from me. I’ve got plenty of skeletons buried deep in my closet, too. I don’t do games, remember?”

  “I remember,” I breathe, leaning into his powerful body, “I don’t want to play games either, Brooks. But I’m not used to being honest with the guys I like.”

  “So you do like me, huh, Red?” he grins, running his hands through my hair.

  “You know I do,” I smile back, wrapping my arms around his hard torso, “And that’s why I want to be honest with you. Totally honest.”

  “Well. If I may be totally honest,” he growls, taking a swig of his beer and setting it down, “I can’t focus on being totally honest when you’re dressed to kill like that, Red. You look fucking incredible.”

  “Oh, this?” I laugh, glancing down at my outfit, “I take it you like what you see?”

  “I love what I see,” he says, letting his hands slide down over my ass. My pulse quickens at that word: love. But something far more primal than love is overriding my inner romantic. I set down my own beer and press my body to Brooks’.

  “I’m so glad you’re here,” I breathe, closing my eyes as his hands wander all over my body. Each inch of skin his touches lights up with sensation. “I need you, Brooks.”

  “I know,” he growls, spinning my body around in his arms. He pulls me tightly against him, my back to his muscular chest. “I can feel you needing me from miles away, babe. I can feel it—‘cause I need you, too.”

  “Brooks...wait,” I manage to say, as he takes my breasts in his hands, “I just have to tell you one thing, before—”

  “Can’t it wait, Red?” he rasps, groaning with appreciation as he realizes I’m not wearing bra. His fingers pinch at my erect nipples, setting my head spinning.

  “It’s just...I may be in trouble,” I gasp, letting my head fall back against his shoulder, “It may not be entirely safe to—”

  “What are you talking about?” he says, lowering his lips to my throat.

  “I’ve pissed someone off pretty badly,” I go on, my breath coming hard and fast as Brooks kisses along my neck, “he may being trying to hurt me.”

  “Listen to me,” Brooks says, turning my face to his, “No one is going to hurt you, Keira. Not while I’m here. You’re safe with me.”

  “I know,” I whisper.

  “You can tell me all about what’s going on,” he says, sliding his hands down between my thighs, “just as soon as I’ve had you again. I can’t wait any longer.”

  I lift my quivering arms, clasping my fingers behind Brook’s neck. My body stretches out against his, exposed and eager. He tugs my tiny denim skirt down over my hips, and I kick the flimsy garment away. My sex is wet and aching already, begging for his touch. Wrapping one strong arm around my waist, Brooks slips his spare hand between my legs from behind.

  I close my eyes as I feel his fingers brush against my sex. He brings his hand to the small of my back, sliding it beneath my minuscule thong. I gasp as I feel his fingers against my ass—brushing past that tight, muscular circle that no man has ever come near.

  “Ever felt anyone here, Red?” he growls, tracing slow circles around the rim of my ass.

  “No. Never,” I breathe, amazed at how good it feels.

  “Do you want to?” he asks, his voice rasping.

  “I want to feel you,” I tell him. I bend at the waist, propping myself up on the arm of the couch. “I want to feel you everywhere, babe.”

  “Then you will,” he says, applying just a bit more pressure. The very tip of his finger enters me, so slowly. A low, guttural groan escapes my throat as I imagine taking the full enormity of him there. “But not tonight.”

  “Oh my god,” I moan, as his fingers find their way to my slick slit. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Brooks.”

  “There are worse ways to go, right?” he says, sliding two thick fingers inside me from behind. I whimper at the illicit sensation, arch my back as his fingertips glance against my clit.

  “Take me, Brooks,” I plead, looking up at his blazing green eyes.

  “Oh, I plan to,” he says, his voice husky with lust.

  I cry out in surprise as I feel my feet lift off the ground. The ceiling swims up to meet me as Brooks hoists me over his shoulder once more, and carries me across the room to my little bed. I should be used to this by now, getting thrown around in the best of ways. But it just never gets old. He lets me roll onto my narrow bed. I sprawl out on my back, slipping out of my thong as Brooks tears off his cut and tee shirt. His ink stands out in sharp relief, scrawling across his every cut muscle. He tugs down his jeans, unleashing his throbbing member. My eyes land on that pulsating length. I’m mesmerized by it as I lift my tank top over my head and let my legs fall wide open.

  “God, I love how you spread yourself for me...” Brooks growls, stepping out of his jeans. His cock stands straight out toward me, hard and thick.

  “What can I say,” I smile, as he sinks to his knees, towering above me, “You make me crazy. You make me want to do everything...anything.”

  I wrap my fingers around his cock, working up and down the length of him. He groans as I tighten my grip, struggling to take all of him in my slender hands. I scramble onto my knees, looking up at him with a wicked grin. A sudden hunger overtakes me, and I know only one thing with satisfy it. I lower my lips to the tip of Brooks’ pulsing dick, and let my tongue flick against the round, smooth bulb of its head.

  “Christ, Red,” he moans, arching his back, “you know just how to work me.”

  “Do I?” I breathe, rubbing along his shaft. “I love that. I love making you feel good.”

  I let the tip of my tongue glance against the very base of his cock, licking all the way up to the tip. I part my lips, taking his swollen head into my mouth. My tongue dances against him as my fingers pump along his length. I can feel him growing harder in my mouth, and I ease him into me bit by bit. I can feel him at the back of my throat, and I only want more. He bucks his hips as I suck him, filling my mouth with the taste of him. I let my fingertips brush against his balls, and hear him suck in a huge breath above me.

  I’ve got him right at the edge, I know it. Just as I’m about to finish him off, he pulls away. I open my mouth to beg for another taste, but cry out instead as Brooks grabs me by the hips and flips me onto my stomach. I look over my shoulder as him as he runs his hands over the swell of my ass. Lifting myself onto my hands and knees, I moan as I feel his cock poised against my wet, eager sex.

  “Holy shit,” I cry, as Brooks pushes his cock deep inside of me, “I can feel every inch of you, Brooks...”

  He rears back and thrusts again, his thick length slicing me in two. I swear, it feels like he’s about to burst right through me. I press back into him at every pass, driving him further and further into my body. I want to take as much of him as I can, feel him at my very core. He goes so deep when he fucks me from behind. It’s almost too much for me to handle. But just as I feel myself coming up against my edge, pleasu
re overtakes him instead. I’m screaming out as he fucks me, unable to contain myself. His grip tightens on my rocking hips, and I know he’s about to lose it for good.

  “I’m there,” he growls.

  “Go on,” I gasp, “I want you to—”

  But my words elide into a wild moan as he reaches a hand between my legs. I feel his expert fingers fall firmly against my aching clit, circling it as his member pounds into me. Almost at once, I come under his touch. The blissful tremor that runs through my body sets him off, too. A chain reaction of ecstasy. He gushes into me, filling me up as our moans of pleasure echo off the walls of my apartment. We fall forward onto the bed together, panting and spent. He pulls me against him on the narrow bed, and I curl into his muscular body. After a time, our breath begins to even out, and exhaustion creeps over my tingling form.

  “So,” he says, his voice low and deep, “what is it you wanted to talk about?”

  “You know what?” I sigh, laying my cheek against his chest, “you’re right. It can wait until morning.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  My eyes snap open in the pitch darkness, darting around the black abyss. I’m wide-awake at once as my pulse skyrockets. Goosebumps spring up all across my body, and my every sense sharpens to a fine point.

  There’s somebody outside. Lurking just beyond the walls of the apartment.

  I listen to the slow, scraping footsteps that drag past the flimsy front door. There’s no mistaking that sound. I’m out of bed like a shot, throwing on Brooks’ tee shirt and a pair of shorts as I pad across the room. My brief burst of terror gives way to purposeful action. I’ve been trained to handle these situations, after all. I locate my purse in the darkness, extracting my gun without making a sound. As soon as that cold steel is in my hand, I feel ready for anything.

  “Keira?” I hear Brooks mumble from bed. I whip my head toward the sound, wishing I hadn’t woken him.

  “Everything’s fine, I’m just not that tired,” I whisper, “Go back to sleep.”

  “Like hell,” he says, sitting up in bed, “why are you whispering? What’s—?”

  A shuffling sound outside answers for me. In the shadows, I watch Brooks’ features harden into stone. He’s beside me in a heartbeat, placing himself between me and the front door. Of course, I realize, he served in the Navy. He’s been trained for this too. I switch off the safety on my handgun, and a sharp click rings out through the room. Brooks looks around sharply, his eyes widening in the darkness as he sees the weapon in my hands.

  “What the hell, Red?” he hisses. “Since when do you pack heat?”

  “I’ll explain later,” I reply, “just as soon as we take care of whoever’s out there.”

  “Before, you said someone might be after you, trying to hurt you,” Brooks whispers, laying his hands on my shoulders, “Do you think—?”

  “I do think,” I say. “He knows where I live.”

  With a low, primal growl, Brooks darts across the room and pulls on his jeans. A sudden glint catches my eye as he produces a menacing switchblade from his pocket. He nods at the door, telling me without words that he’s going to grab whoever’s outside. I nod back, training my gun at the doorway. Across the room, Brooks’ every muscle tenses, his body readying itself for combat. A ripple of desire runs through me at the sight, and I have to will myself to refocus.

  “Three,” I whisper, my finger caressing the trigger, “Two...One.”

  In one swift motion, Brooks springs at the front door, ripping it open and reaching through. A terrified cry sounds out as my man wrestles someone through the doorway. But the screaming voice doesn’t belong to Bruno, as I expected it to. And the form squirming in Brooks’ arms is far too scrawny to belong to my federal nemesis. Keeping my gun trained on the intruder, I slam the front door and switch on the overhead light.

  “Sonofabitch,” I spit, lowering my weapon at once.

  Milo Beckett stares wildly around, pinned in place by Brooks’ mighty arms. The switchblade is pressed against my crazy ex’s throat, which could really use a shave, actually. Milo looks like a total wreck—somehow even thinner and scrappier than when last I saw him. But any concern I might be feeling for his wellbeing is dwarfed by my outrage at his presence in my apartment.

  “What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” I hiss.

  “Don’t hurt me,” Milo whimpers, glancing up at Brooks in terror. “Please. I just needed to see you.”

  “This is the creep that’s after you?” Brooks growls, keeping his blade trained against Milo’s skinny neck.

  “No,” I say, exasperated. “This...is my ex. My crazy ex, it would seem.”

  “Him?” Brooks asks, shoving Milo roughly away, “Christ, Red. What were you doing with this scrawny piece of shit?”

  “Excuse me,” Milo says, pulling himself together as best he can, “you have no right to talk about me like that.”

  “And you have no right to be stalking me,” I spit. “You realize it’s illegal, right? Showing up at someone’s house in the middle of the—”

  “You wouldn’t answer my texts. My calls,” Milo babbles, looking for all the world like a particularly awkward puppy who’s been kicked too many times. “I couldn’t get in touch with you, but I had to say—”

  “There’s nothing to say, Milo,” I groan. “You were a shitty boyfriend. I’m not attracted to you. At all. It’s over.”

  “Apparently you’ve had no trouble moving on,” Milo says sullenly, looking Brooks’ fine form up and down.

  “Don’t you worry, little man,” Brooks says, crossing his thick arms, “she’s in good hands now.”

  “You seriously want to be with some macho bad boy instead of me?” Milo asks.

  “Obviously,” I reply, rolling my eyes.

  “But I love you,” Milo pleads, taking a step toward me. In an instant, Brooks has stepped in his path, blocking me.

  “That’s enough of that,” Brooks growls, snatching Milo by the front of his flannel shirt. “Time for you to go.”

  “I bet he doesn’t even care about you,” Milo insists, struggling against Brooks’ grip, “there’s no way he loves you.”

  “Yes, I do,” Brooks snaps back. “More than you’d ever know.”

  My heart skips a beat, or three, as Brooks’ words sink in. “You...love me?” I breathe.

  “Of course I do,” Brooks says, towing Milo toward the door. “You’re my girl, Red.”

  “I love you too,” I whisper, grinning like an idiot.

  “I know,” Brooks smiles. “But let’s take care of this asshole before we—”

  “He’s a thug! You hate thugs!” Milo pleads, his eyes wild. “He doesn’t know you like I do! Quinn, please—”

  Brooks stops in his tracks, examining the squirming bug in his hand. “Quinn?” he asks me. “Why did he call you Quinn?”

  Shit.

  “Because that’s her name, dumb ass,” Milo sniffs. “Quinn Collins. Don’t you even know her name, or...Oh my god.”

  “Milo, shut up,” I warn.

  “You don’t know!” Milo hoots, wiggling free from Brooks’ grasp.

  “What don’t I know?” Brooks asks me, raising an eyebrow. “Keira, what—?”

  “Keira? Is that her alias? She’s an undercover agent,” Milo says gleefully. “You seriously had no idea?”

  “Get out of here,” I say to Milo, my voice low and deadly. “Get out of here before I put a bullet through your balls and say it was self defense.”

  “You would never,” Milo says.

  “Wanna bet?” I reply, pointing my gun at his crotch. “I’d be doing the human race a favor.” The color drains from my despicable ex’s face, and he eases himself toward the door.

  “If you won’t have me,” Milo whines, “I’m glad he won’t want you now, either. You deserve to be alone, you heartless bitch.”

  “That’s it,” Brooks snaps. Milo yelps as my biker boy grabs him by the scruff of the neck and drop kicks him out the front door. Milo bea
ts a quick retreat as Brooks slams the door behind him, his hands balled into furious fists. We listen in silence as Milo’s car peels away into the night. But even though he’s gone, the harm he’s done remains.

  “Brooks,” I say quietly, setting my gun down on the couch, “Let me explain—”

  “Yeah. That’d be a good place to start,” he replies, looking at me with hard eyes.

  “Milo was telling the truth,” I say, my heart pounding, “My real name isn’t Keira Campbell. It’s Quinn Collins. I’m...I’m an FBI agent.”

  A long moment of silence passes between us, swelling to fill the entire apartment. Brooks is as still as the statue he resembles, processing my news. I barrel on, ripping off the Band-Aid—or rather, the tourniquet.

  “I work in the cyber department,” I rush on, “I was sent to investigate CrowdedNest as part of a larger investigation into Dante’s Nine and the Devil’s Wraiths. I was never supposed to even meet any of the actual members, but then—”

  “You’ve been investigating me?” Brooks asks, his voice pulsing with rage.

  “No!” I exclaim, “You were never my target. This thing with you...it just happened, and I wanted it so badly—”

  “Why are you telling me all this?” he says, pacing around the living room like a caged lion. “Why not deny it?”

  “Because I have reason to believe that the other agent working the case is trying to set you guys up,” I say quickly. “He’s trying to take down the MC’s on contrived evidence. He’s the one who’s after me. That’s what I wanted to tell you earlier tonight, before we got...distracted. I’m shifting my investigation on to him to try and stop whatever he’s cooking up. I don’t think the FBI has it right. I guess I’ve...gone rogue. Or something.”