Red Hot Bikers, Rock Stars and Bad Boys

by Cassia Leo

  “Sure, but wouldn’t it blow our covers if we knock out an entire group of people?”

  “If we get the disk with the data on it, it’s worth blowing one of our covers—” he says.

  “And that would be mine,” I continue, to show him that I agree. It makes sense. I don’t have as much time invested here as he does. “Yeah, let’s try drugging them. But we still need to ask the chicks in case that doesn’t work.”

  “There could be another way if we had something other than sleeping pills,” Slider says, thinking out loud. “We don’t want to kill them, and alcohol and sleeping meds are not a good combo.”

  “I’ve got Josette’s stash in the locker,” I say. “There’s weed, some tablets I never checked, and blotters.”

  “Blotters would work. Could we put them in the salsa with the chips?”

  I nod while I realize we’re flying by the seats of our pants. Our mission is to get as much information as we can on all the Wizards activities and network. The Wizards have ears and eyes everywhere. It’s like a monstrous octopus, and unless we chop off all its arms at once, it’ll just be a waste of time.

  Just in case, I’ll take the blotters with me when I leave tonight. Days like this make me wish that I had faith because then I could pray. We’re taking a huge chance, but if Zach finds out that someone was in his office copying his data, a lot of heads will roll.

  “I’ll also call in some muscle,” Slider say. “Just in case shit gets really bad.”

  “But tonight we’re good?”

  “Yes, tonight they have family stuff with their wives and whatnot, so they won’t show up here.”

  I breathe easier. One day at a time.

  ***

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  I’m busy taking care of a man who arrived drunk when Mimi walks in. She waves and winks at me before entering the dressing room. She arrives the earliest, since she goes on first. That’s the price she pays for leaving early. I follow her in the dressing room as soon as I have disposed of the drunk.

  We both say, “I have something to tell you.”

  She laughs, and I barely manage a smile.

  I hate what I’m about to ask, so of course I postpone it and say, “You go first.”

  “Marie took Toussaint home with her tonight.” She wraps her arms around my neck, letting her words sink in. “And she’ll even take him to school in the morning.”

  She kisses me lightly and looks so happy, I can’t possibly tell her that I need her to do a lap dance on that bastard.

  “What did you want to tell me?” she asks.

  I rack my brain for something to say and just fib. “I can’t remember.”

  “What do you mean you can’t remember?” She’s frowning.

  “It’s all your fault. What you just told me made all my blood rush south, and now my brain is no longer irrigated!”

  That gets a laugh out of her, and she sends me out of the dressing room so she can get ready in peace. This will be the longest evening of my life. I think about Lisa. On the night of her prom, she waited for Brian to come pick her up, and she was singing and whirling around in her room. I remember the song she hummed was the West Side Story song “Tonight.”

  I search for the male equivalent but come up empty. What was I thinking? Of course there are no such songs. Men are cool. Men don’t jump or waltz around when they’re happy. Too bad, ’cause that’s really what I feel like doing. Instead, I just get back into position between the main door and the stage with an idiotic grin on my face.

  The grin stays on all night. I’ve never been happier to see pouring rain because by eleven, all the patrons have left and Slider decides to call it a night. I walk the girls to their cars, help the guys lock up, and then, armed with a waterproof windbreaker, ride to Mimi’s home.

  When I knock on her door, it’s midnight. She answers looking like the loveliest vision ever. She’s removed all her makeup and slipped into a very large T-shirt. Mimi looks fresh and pure, almost innocent. She’s almost a different person than the one who was strutting around on a podium just hours ago.

  I remove my windbreaker and kick off my wet boots. Mimi takes them and goes in the kitchen. While she does, I look around the living room, which seems even smaller in the penumbra. The lights are out, and a few candles flicker around the tiny space. I don’t have the heart to tell her that I want light. I want to watch her every expression as I make love to her. But that’s okay; I’ll let her have her way tonight. Silent as a cat, Mimi returns. I catch her reflection in the small mirror on the back wall. I love the way the flames put a twinkle in her eyes.

  I turn around and catch her waist. “You’re very beautiful tonight.”

  She lowers her gaze. Mimi never knows how to behave when I compliment her. I take advantage of her confusion to catch the bottom of her T-shirt and pull it over her head. I take a step back to look at her. She’s absolutely magnificent, standing here almost totally naked for my eyes only. She’s wearing nothing more than a strip of cream lace.

  Before she has a chance to think or react, I pull her in my arms and kiss her. She’s a little stiff at first, but I don’t give her a chance to back out. I kiss her with all my heart until she softens, and her hands rest on my torso, fisting on my T-shirt. She pulls it out of my pants but gets distracted when my hands reach her butt. I knead her magnificent cheeks, and she purrs like a kitten.

  I let go of her mouth and trail kisses down her neck, nipping at her skin. I continue to her collarbone and all the way to the uncharted territories of her breasts. They aren’t small, but they’re not very large either. They’re just the right size for my hands. I’ve wanted to taste them for so long that I pause in awe of the moment. My tongue twirls around her nipple, and when my lips close on it, Mimi’s hands rest on my head. I add pressure on the tip of her breast, and her fingers thread through my hair to draw me closer, encouraging me to strengthen my hold on her. I gladly suckle harder until she bucks against me and moans. Her sounds go right to my dick and make me wonder if I can make her come from just making love to her breasts.

  Not willing to play favorites with one nipple, I turn to the other one. Mimi takes advantage of my move to pull my T-shirt over my head. While I lave the second nipple and tweak the first one with my fingers, Mimi goes for my belt. She makes quick work of my jeans and discovers that I went commando at work.

  Her hands on me are tentative. The tips of her fingers clumsily brush my balls while the flat of her hand rests on my dick. It’s not a caress—it’s a tease, and it’s tantalizing. I didn’t think it was possible, but I grow harder yet. I abandon her breast and stand up straight to look at her face. Her eyes flutter open, and she looks at me with so much passion and need, I want to freeze the moment. This image of her will stay forever burned in my brain.

  I can’t wait another moment to bury myself in her. “Where?” I know our choices are limited: it’s either the tiny sofa she sleeps on or the tiny bedroom with its battered double bed.

  “Bedroom, please.” Her voice is a whisper that sends chills down my spine.

  “Condoms?”

  “Nightstand.”

  Good girl. It’s nice one of us has a brain. Of course, I always have a couple of condoms in my wallet, but two’s not going to cut it tonight. I scoop her up, carry her to the candles so we can blow them out, and then I carry her to the next room. She picks up a condom from the bedside table before I settle her at the bottom of the bed. The room is so narrow that I just barely have the space to kneel at her feet. She tears the wrapper open and leans over to slide it on me with delicate fingers. Then she slides her hand down my shaft and gives it a soft squeeze.

  “Jeanne-Michelle!” I growl.

  She smiles tenderly at the way I mispronounce her name. I lay her down and spread her legs before I bend to taste the tender skin of her stomach. I burn a path of kisses down from her belly button.

  Close to my destination, I stop to say, “I want you to understand that, for me, this
isn’t just one night.”

  She freezes, and her hands contract into fists. She is so nervous, but I can’t make her understand how serious about her I am if I don’t tell her.

  “From you, I want more, I want so much more. I want all of you: body, soul, and heart.” Fuck, I hate that it’s too dark for me to see her expression, so just in case I freaked her out by coming on too strong, I add, “You don’t need to say anything. I understand if you have to think about it for a while, but right now, just lay back and feel.”

  I dive into the most tender folds ever. I feast on her and suck on her sensitive nub, slow and then harder. I slide in one then two fingers and search for the right spot. I know I have it when her hips rise from the bed and her purring turns into a loud moan. I slow down, and when her breathing returns to normal, I start over. I leave her on the edge of pleasure for a little longer than I should, just for the hell of it or maybe because I’m so frustrated that I won’t be able to see her face when she comes for me.

  As soon as I realize how petty I’m being, I make her fly. She calls out my name and grabs my hair to pull me into her. I make her scoot in the bed, and I follow her. Supporting myself on my arms, I lean into her. I go as slow as I can because I know I won’t be able to hold on for long. Her breath hitches when I slide in. She’s so tight that it’s hell and paradise all at once. When I’m all in, she nods and tilts her hips, encouraging me, and I lose myself in her.

  I’ve come home, and I will show her, again and again, that I intend to stay.

  ***

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I’m early at the bar, probably looking a bit wiped out since I didn’t get much sleep. Vic doesn’t look much better than me. That’s good, not because he’ll be in a foul mood but because when he’s exhausted, he makes good coffee, and that’s what I need right now. Three cups later, I’m starting to feel human again. I thank Vic, who’s grumbling behind the bar. Actually, what I need is something much stronger than coffee to give me the courage to tell Mimi what I would need her to do.

  When she finally comes in, I’m a nervous wreck. She waves at me as she’s always done. We haven’t discussed hiding our relationship, but I guess it makes sense, especially with the official “no messing with the talent” policy Slider has. I wait a couple minute then follow her into the dressing room. She’s struggling with the contents of her locker to find a space for her handbag. The locker is filled with a ton of junk, which is really surprising. She’s usually so tidy and immaculate.

  I brace myself. “Mimi, I have a favor to ask from you.” She turns around, so I put my hands on her hips and pull her toward me. Looking into her eyes, I say, “I want you to believe me when I tell you that I’m only asking because I have no other choice.”

  She frowns and bites her upper lip. Her hands, which were reaching for my neck, stop and rest on my shoulders. A perfect position to push me away. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I know you usually refuse to do them, and you have no idea how happy I was about that, but tonight I may ask you to do a lap dance for me—”

  “A lap dance on you?” A smile spreads across her face. “It would be awkward, but I can do that.”

  I shake my head. “No, sweetheart, not on me. On another guy.”

  Her silence and look of disgust are worse than a slap. I see tears pool in her eyes as her confidence in me shreds. If I don’t make her understand, I’ll lose her.

  “I trusted you,” she says, pushing away from me. I hold her back, and she pushes with all her strength. When that doesn’t work, she goes wild and growls, “Let me go.”

  But I hold fast to her hips until she goes for my face. I’m not sure whether she’s trying to slap me or claw my eyes out, but I catch her wrists. “Listen to me.”

  My tone is so intense that she freezes. God, I think I just scared her.

  “I don’t know why, but I understand trust doesn’t come easily for you, and right now you feel I’m betraying you, so I’m going to do something crazy,” I say. “I’m going to put my life into your hands.”

  She remains still and looks at me with her eyes wide. The look of fear has vanished. She knows I won’t hurt her, but she doesn’t understand what is happening.

  She doesn’t push back when I pull her closer and whisper in her ear, “I’m a cop, Mimi.” I look at her face again, and her eyes have somehow grown wider. “I’m undercover, and many people will be in danger if I can’t get inside one of the rooms upstairs.”

  “What’s in the room?” she asks, still not trying to move away but looking suspicious.

  “A disk. It’s stuck in a computer. I need to get it. I need the data on it, and I need for them not to find out I have it.”

  “Who’s them?”

  “Mimi, you’re asking too many questions,” I tell her.

  “And you’re asking a big favor. If I decide to believe you, and if I’m going to do this for you, I want to know why,” she says. Her request sounds very reasonable.

  “They’re a group of white supremacist bastards who deal in everything illegal they can get their hands on,” I say, staying as vague as I can and praying it’ll be enough information. “They have a lot of political clout and way too many moles in the police force. That’s why this mission is so delicate.”

  Mimi pulls away from me ever so slightly, and I let her go. She turns around and looks in the mirror with the saddest eyes. “So you only work here because of the mission?”

  I nod. “My presence here is nothing more than a cover.”

  “I see.” The pain in her voice crushes me.

  I step back into her space. “Falling for you was not part of the mission.” I catch her waist and turn her around to face me again. “I really care for you and Toussaint. What we have is real, not some scheme to get you to do something for me.”

  She tilts her head, and I can’t tell whether she believes me or not. “What exactly do you need me to do?”

  “Get Ezachia Smith distracted enough to borrow his keys, give them to me, and I’ll take it from there.”

  “Ezachia Smith?” She pronounces his name as if she’s spitting out something vile.

  “You know him?”

  “Of course I do, he’s…” She doesn’t finish her sentence. She shudders and closes her eyes, but when she opens them again, I can see her resolve. “So you don’t really need a lap dance, just any distraction that would work?” When I nod, she adds, “Won’t you need to put the keys back?”

  “Yes, but that’s not as crucial,” I admit. “As long as I have the disk, it doesn’t matter if my cover is blown.”

  “Fine, I’ll do it.” She stands tall in my arms. “If I can help put that man away, I’ll do it.”

  I admire her courage. I’m about to go for her lips when her hands land flat on my chest, not pushing me away, but she’s keeping her distance. I don’t get a chance to find out whether I’ve lost her trust or not because the other girls walk in.

  “Get a room!” Sally playfully says. I’m starting to hate that expression.

  “Yeah, really,” Kitten adds more aggressively.

  I let her go and silently mouth, “Thank you.”

  I want to tell her more. I want to tell Mimi that I think I’m in love with her, but I’m such a coward that I don’t. Anyway, now isn’t the right time. Shit, it’s never the right time to do what I want to do with her. I walk out of the girls’ dressing room to give them privacy to change, which is supremely ironic since in a short while, they’ll strip in front of an audience.

  ***

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  And the audience is large today. His majesty Ezachia Smith is there, surrounded by his adoring court. I salute him with two fingers to the temple and walk over to Slider, who’s standing by the bar.

  “Mimi will do it,” I tell him.

  “Didn’t have a chance to ask Sally yet,” he says. “She got in at the same time they did, and Zach had to tell me about his family reunion. Some kid’s getting engaged
. Most of the local members of his adoring fan club are here, and they’re expecting more people, like distant cousins and their brothers. We can scratch the drug idea.”

  Fuck, fuck, fuck. I hate this situation. Just when I think it’s the pits, it gets worse. Yep, a regular cluster-fuck that keeps on building. Mike Mayfair walks in with another group. I scan their faces. Thank fuck, no one else who belongs to the same station is with them. Before I have a chance to decide if I want to hide, Mike spots me and frowns. I just smile and wave as if seeing each other here is the most natural encounter in the world.

  He walks over to the bar, looking as if he’s trying to hide his embarrassment at being caught in a place like this. “Hey, David. I haven’t seen you at the station for a while. Fancy meeting you here!”

  “No shame in loving to watch the girlies shake their booties.” I take him by the arm as if I want to speak to him discreetly. “I do overtime as a bouncer here a few nights a week. I can count on you to be discreet about that, right?”

  Faced with my best caught-with-my-hand-in-the-cookie-jar look, Mike can hardly hide his relief. “Sure, man. Times are hard, and a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do to make it work.”

  “I’m glad you understand,” I say, looking relieved, which I really am, since he appears to have bought my story. “Are you with the engagement celebration?”

  “Yeah, a second cousin of mine’s getting in bed with a well-connected guy so, you know, I go with the flow.” He shakes his head like one of those dolls people put on their dashboards.

  “That’s smart. You can never have too many connections these days.”

  We shake hands, and he walks away to sit with his party.

  I go back to leaning against the bar with Slider.

  He looks at me and says, “I thought you barely knew anyone in your station.”

  “Yeah, I don’t. I was at the academy with that guy.”