by Zoey Parker
“Are you sure you don’t need anything from there?”
“I’m sure, Gunner.” I smiled out of comfort and security. I felt cared for when I was in his presence, and it was a great feeling. “Come on,” I said, “let’s go inside and get showered. I know I need one.”
I picked up the pace and pulled him with me. He followed me up the stairs, and it felt nice not to have an entourage following us around, either as security or as members of the MC. It was just us, just as it had been for days leading up to the confrontation with Coyote.
As we walked into the bedroom, he shrugged off his vest, and I helped him with his shirt and undershirt. He pulled off my long-sleeved shirt, the one I had worn when I snuck out of his house with the diamond, the same one that was soaked in the blood of a fallen Immortal Devil. I unbuckled his belt and opened his pants, pulling them down to reveal the swell in his boxers. I gripped him through the fabric with my hungry hand while he stripped off my pants.
The whole time we continued walking towards his bathroom. I leaned into him and kissed him while I stroked his thick cock with my fingers. I still could just barely get my fingers to reach all the way around him, and it made me tingle deep between my legs every time I tried.
He reached into the tub and turned on the shower. As the water began to run and heat up, I knew where we were going. I knew what was about to happen.
“Give me this,” he said as he spun me around and pushed me against the wall. He grabbed my hips and pulled my ass against his hardening shaft. He ran himself between my cheeks. Then he unclasped my bra and let it fall to the floor. He pulled my panties down as well, revealing all of me to him.
I reached back and pulled at the waistband of his boxers, trying to release him so I could have him inside me. He pulled them down, and I felt the bare skin of his manhood rub against my wet lips. I pushed against the wall to press myself harder against him.
“Get in the shower,” he ordered me.
I did as I was told, and Gunner stepped in behind me, putting me in the hot water raining down. He handed me a washcloth and a bar of soap.
“Wash yourself for me. I want to watch,” he said plainly. It was an order. It wasn’t a suggestion or a request. He wasn’t telling me because he thought it was something exciting we could do together. He was ordering me to clean myself for him and let him watch. We were getting back down to the business of our agreement. I immediately felt the arousal between my thighs.
I did as I was told. I worked the soap in the washcloth and ran it down slowly from my neck to my breasts. I followed the lines and curves of my body with the cloth in one hand while the other soapy hand gripped my breast and squeezed it for him to see.
I washed over my flat stomach, but as the cloth made it down between my legs, I grabbed his hand and pulled it to me, placing it over my hand on the washcloth. I made him scrub me clean.
“That’s it,” I moaned as hot water rushed down over my body. “Clean me, baby. Scrub me so I’ll be squeaky clean for you when you shove it inside me.”
I wanted him so much I hurt. I ached to feel him inside of me. After letting him run the washcloth over my tender folds of flesh, I pulled his hand away and turned while I scrubbed my ass for him. I ran the cloth down between my cheeks, and then I ran it along the curves where my ass met my legs.
He pressed himself against my cheeks, running his wet manhood along my curves. He pushed himself down to slide between my legs, and I gripped him with the washcloth. I stroked him as he stroked my lips and parted my folds.
As the water ran down over our bodies, I felt it wash away his soap. I let the washcloth fall into the tub as he pushed me against the tile wall. With one hand on my waist and another on my breast, he pushed himself deep inside me as he clutched my tender skin and rubbed my hardened nipple.
He kissed my neck and my shoulder as I moaned and bucked against him.
“I want you so badly,” I breathed. “I thought I would never get to have you again.”
“You don’t get to talk,” he said forcefully. He gripped my tits with both hands and pushed me against the wall, ramming himself all the way inside of me. “You’re going to pay for what you did,” he growled in my ear.
For the first time since we’d been together, I was actually a little afraid of him in that moment. I felt my muscles tense up around him. The wall was hard and cold despite the hot water and steam from the shower, but his hands were warm and smooth. His grip was firm but his touch was still gentle.
His anger, while it might have had some element of truth to it, was mostly for show. Still, I didn’t relax against his hard muscles pressing into my back. I didn’t want to make his anger and rage a real concern.
“Make me pay,” I taunted him. “Teach me my lesson.” I pressed my hips against his, pushing myself back from the wall and shoving him deeper inside me. I could feel his cock growing harder in me as I challenged him to punish me.
He squeezed my breasts until they hurt and pulled me back as he pushed himself forward. It felt like he was going to rip me open. And if he didn’t, the pleasure that rushed through my body was going to.
I moaned and put my hands over his while he gripped me and pulled my body back, using my tits like handles or knobs. He grunted and groaned as he thrust himself into me. Our hips smacked together with the force he was using to stab me with his manhood.
“Please,” I begged, “make me pay for screwing you.”
“Oh, I’m going to,” he said through his teeth. His breath hissed as he gritted his teeth while he was panting. His entire body tensed up while he was punishing me in the shower, and I could feel his muscles popping out, bulging through his skin.
The ridge on the underside of his shaft ran along the g-spot in my front wall each time he moved it, causing my body to jerk against his. Eventually, I had to put my hands back on the wall to steady myself as ecstasy overcame me.
“Come for me,” he demanded. “I want to feel it.”
I rocked my hips against him, working him deep inside of me. I rocked furiously against him as he thrust into me. The blinding sensation of pleasure quickly built deep inside of me. It was driven by his firm erection and his grip on my tits sending just enough pain through me to top it off.
I erupted and cried out against the tile wall. I pushed myself against him, holding him deep inside of me as my muscles worked around him, gripping him tight and letting him go as my orgasm came in waves.
He felt like he was about to explode inside of me, and I didn’t want to let him out, but he moved his hands slowly around to my ass and pushed me forward just enough to let him slide out. I heard his breath shudder as he left me, and I felt his warm juice spill out on my ass. The water washed it away as fast as he could pump it out. He spread my cheeks and let himself rain down on my crack.
When he finished, I turned around and took his face in my hands. I pulled him to me and kissed him under the hot water. I could taste his breath and the water running over us. I kissed him frantically, as if I were afraid I would never kiss him again.
At one point, I had been.
As we kissed and groped each other under the water, another feeling welled up inside of me, one I wasn’t ready to give words to just yet. It wasn’t desire or pleasure, or any of those other things he had made me feel. It was deeper and bigger. It wanted to fill my arms as I wrapped them around him and held him to me. It wanted me to tell him I felt it. It wanted me to say its name breathlessly under the running water as we parted.
So I did.
“I love you, Gunner,” I breathed to him, our foreheads touching.
“I love you, too,” he admitted.
The feeling only intensified at hearing its name spoken aloud. I pulled him back to me and kissed him again. We pressed our bodies together as the shower washed away all of the pretense, all of the grime, and every wall we had built up around us to keep us apart because this was supposed to just be business.
It wasn’t business anymore. It
had become personal.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Gunner
I couldn’t believe I was hosting a party for the MC at my mansion, but I was. My kitchen staff was catering, and I even had one of our members set up as a DJ. We really did have a little bit of everything in our MC. He was a professional club DJ when he wasn’t riding with us. He was thrilled to work the party.
As he put it, “This is something I can do for all my brothers for letting me ride with you all.”
Everyone was there, and while my kitchen staff ran the bar, providing everything from whiskey and light beer to the best champagne and wine money could buy, Luther and Venom manned the grill, cooking up sausages, steaks, chicken, hot dogs, hamburgers, and anything else that wouldn’t fall through into the coals.
Sierra and I stepped out onto the balcony overlooking the pool from my—our—bedroom, and I held up my glass of whiskey. She held up her red wine. I was dressed just as the rest of the MC, in my colors, a t-shirt, and old faded blue jeans. She wore a bathing suit that made her look like she belonged on the cover of a magazine, or on the pages of that magazine’s main spread.
I looked out over the crowd drinking, dancing, and just hanging out on my patio. Those were all my brothers. We’d been through thick and thin together. Some had been around longer, but all had proven themselves true to the cause of The Immortal Devils. Everyone down there had contributed, even the women who came along with some of my brothers. Yes, they were contributing just by being present.
“Brothers,” I called out over the music. Our boy stopped the record so I could talk. “We are here today to celebrate the MC. Everyone here is Immortal. That’s for damn sure.”
They responded with laughter.
“On a serious note, though,” I continued, “we have grown this MC from five poor kids who grew up in a small rural town to fifty-plus total members right here in one chapter. We are about to start another new chapter in the legend of The Immortal Devils. With the money we are about to bring in, we are going to be able to begin expansion into other chapters in other cities.”
They cheered again, raising their glasses and voices to me. Sierra tightened her arm around my waist.
“Some of you will find yourselves promoted to chapter heads, and you will have your own men directly under you who will answer to you.” As I spoke, I imagined how large the MC could be once it started growing. There were clubs out there that were international in scope. With the success we were already enjoying, I knew it wouldn’t have been long before we made it to that size.
“So, as we embark upon this new stage in our journey, raise your glasses and your voices for me. To The Immortal Devils.”
My patio erupted with their shouts and whistles. The music started again, and I laughed as Sierra and I started back into the bedroom.
“What’s funny?” she asked. “I think that was a pretty good speech.”
“Just the fact that I’ve got them out there acting like they’re at a concert or something. Man, we never really let our hair down like this anymore. We’ve come so far from the rowdy bunch of punks we used to be, you know, so it’s just nice to watch them just be guys again,” I explained, reminding myself that Sierra hadn’t seen much of our story. All she knew was where she came in and what little she might have heard on the street prior to that. We had calmed down a lot since the early days.
“Well, come on,” she said, hugging me around my waist with her bare arms. “Let’s go join the fun.”
We walked down the spiral staircase and I saw that the TV in the living room was on. The house behind the reporter looked like Coyote’s mansion.
“Hold on,” I told her as I rushed down the stairs to grab the remote from the glass coffee table. I turned it up, and looked at her. “That’s Coyote’s house. Get the guys,” I rushed her.
While I waited for them to come in, the reporter was simply establishing the story and the shot.
“Notorious international crime boss, Coyote, was found today at her local estate. We aren’t sure of all the details yet, but it seems that she upset another of our local crime lords. Her estate was ransacked, leaving fifteen men who apparently guarded the property dead on her lawn.”
He continued as the camera crew walked through the rubble of the house.
“As you can see, the scene here is one of utter devastation. Whoever she upset was out for blood.”
They showed her office, and the shattered window, which I assumed happened when she and Sierra had fought earlier that same evening.
“Have they found her body yet?” Venom asked behind me as the guys came back in with Sierra.
Everyone watched in silence. Even the music outside had stopped.
“Coyote, whose real name is Amber Riley, was found on a bench with three gunshot wounds to her stomach and chest. Authorities say they believe Fairchild was left for dead, and they say it is a miracle she is still alive.”
I could feel the eyes on me from the men standing around me. I couldn’t admit to them that I hadn’t checked to see if she was dead because I wanted to assume she was. I couldn’t explain to them that I hadn’t killed her because at the last minute I realized I respected her as a peer. If we had worked with Coyote instead of against her over the years, our two organizations could have been huge together.
“You didn’t make sure she was dead?” Sierra asked.
“I mean, she didn’t look like she was breathing after I shot her. She was done,” I told her.
“It’s okay, bro. We all make mistakes,” Duncan said, patting me on the shoulder. “But it looks like it’s going to be a long time before we have to worry about her again.”
“Coyote, or Fairchild, is the head of a large international jewelry theft ring. The FBI is working with several international organizations now to track down known associates. Anyone who has any useful information is asked to call the FBI hotline. As of now, there are no reports of a reward being offered for the capture of several known criminals who were working for Coyote, but any help you can provide is definitely appreciated.”
“Appreciated.” Bryce snorted, turning to walk out.
“Nobody knows anything about me,” Sierra told me quietly while the others left the room. “I have only used my real name with two people—you and Coyote. Hell, I didn’t even know her real name until now.”
“Me either. I don’t think anyone did. She’s just been Coyote for so long,” I explained. “And none of her properties are in her name either. It’s like Coyote is a ghost, and Fairchild ceased to exist.”
“Unfortunately, she’s not a ghost,” Sierra reminded me.
“Yeah, but it won’t take much for them to put her away for a long, long time. If the FBI and international agencies were already searching for her, they have enough on her that we might not ever see her again.”
“True.” Sierra sighed.
“Look, you need to lay low for a while,” I explained. “Just until this blows over. If anyone has pictures of you to connect you to one of your aliases, that’s all it will take to put you on their radar.”
“I can go incognito,” she said to me with a smile. “You know, cut and dye my hair, put in some contacts to change my eye color, wear some fake glasses, change the way I dress. Maybe even go by a different alias for a while. Sierra Farrow had a very distinct look and style. Maybe I could be Kristina Kaye for a while,” she added with a wink.
I was both impressed and troubled by how quickly she pumped out a new name, but then I realized how similar it was to her last name, and of course, she used my name as part of it, which I thought was incredibly flattering and presumptuous.
“I like that one,” I told her. “It’s better than names like Lily Hughes,” I joked.
“Ah, but you remember it. See, you remember me, even though you weren’t Lily’s target. That was a fun one. I should have saved it for someone else. The guy I used it on was pretty lame, and the job wasn’t very prestigious, if that makes any sense.”
She seemed thrilled that her old boss was out of the way, and she seemed to come alive at the idea of reinventing herself. It made me think, because different people did what we did for different reasons. There were people who got into our kind of work for the money, or for the power. There were others who just couldn’t work for other people and couldn’t find anything legal to do.
Then, there were people like Sierra, who simply enjoyed the challenge of what she did. She also seemed to enjoy being able to act as part of her job, but if she hadn’t put on a fake name for me, I wondered how much of her powerful seductress act was really her. Then again, it made sense that if she hadn’t been putting on an act, she would still be hanging around instead of disappearing back into the underworld.
