Batta: Blackwings MC - Devil Springs - Book Four

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Batta: Blackwings MC - Devil Springs - Book Four Page 13

by Brooks, Teagan


  I followed her through the back door into the kitchen. My mouth dropped open when I took in the room. “Who in the hell lives here?”

  “I do,” she deadpanned.

  “You did this shit?” I asked incredulously. There were mushrooms everywhere—mushroom handles on the cabinets and doors, mushroom wallpaper, a mushroom table and chairs. Even the ceiling had striations making it look like the underside of a mushroom cap.

  “Yep,” she said and managed to hold a straight face for about fifteen seconds before she burst into a fit of laughter. “Damn it! I wanted to show you the other rooms before I cracked.”

  “There’s more?”

  She laughed even harder. “You have no idea. Follow me.” She led me down a normal looking hallway and stopped in front of a closed door. She flung the door open and made a grand gesture with her arms. “I give you…The Doll Room.”

  I took two steps into the room and immediately backed out after one glance. The walls were lined with cabinets filled with creepy-ass porcelain dolls of all shapes and sizes. Pulling the door closed, I turned to Tatum, “Does this door lock?”

  She snorted and shook her head. “No, but I sure as fuck wish it did.” She laughed again. “I promise, the next room isn’t that bad.”

  Reluctantly, I followed her back to the kitchen. When she opened a door and started walking down a flight of stairs that I assumed led to a basement, I stopped and braced my arms on the door frame. “Sorry, babe, but this has got Hell-Fucking-No written all over it.”

  She turned around and arched an eyebrow. “Scared?”

  “No, sugar tits. Not scared. Smart.”

  She sighed and started making her way back upstairs. “Fine, then. No sex dungeon for you,” she mumbled.

  “Wait. What did you say?” I asked and pulled her against me.

  “There’s a kinky sex dungeon in the basement. I thought it might interest you,” she said huskily.

  “You serious?”

  “Come see for yourself.”

  I studied her face but couldn’t tell if she was fucking with me or not. She patiently waited for me to make my decision. I nodded my head toward the stairs. “Let’s see this kinky sex dungeon.”

  She led the way and stopped in front of a closed door. Turning to face me, she chewed on her lower lip. “It’s not really a sex dungeon,” she confessed and opened the door. “It’s a kick-ass wine cellar.”

  I stepped inside and looked around. “Why didn’t you just say that?”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d be interested.”

  My forehead wrinkled in confusion while I studied her. Something was off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “Nothing,” she said and shrugged again. “Have a look around.”

  Appeasing her, I slowly walked around the cellar while she silently watched me. Truthfully, I’d never been in a wine cellar before; it was much larger than I expected.

  I stopped when I came to a section of wine bottles on the back wall. Noting the faint cut out around the entire case, I glanced at Tatum over my shoulder. “Something back here?”

  “I can’t say that there is,” she answered flatly.

  That’s when it finally clicked—she was trying to tell me something without actually telling me.

  “Huh, guess it’s just a crack in the foundation. You should probably have that checked,” I suggested and continued making my way around the cellar.

  The name on a bottle of wine caught my eye. Hustle. I picked it up to get a better look. Tatum came up from behind me and took the bottle from my hands. “This is a damn good wine. Let’s take this bottle upstairs so you can try it.”

  “You can do that?” I asked. I knew the house didn’t belong to her, so I assumed the wine didn’t belong to her either.

  She laughed. “Normally, no, but I have a few cases of my own wine down here, and that’s one of them.”

  “I didn’t peg you for a wine drinker.”

  Grabbing my hand, she pulled me from the room and headed upstairs. “Wait until you try it.”

  “This sounds like something the Old Ladies would like. Where’d you find it?”

  “I was on an assignment and found it at Elevation 966, a locally owned winery in Greenville, South Carolina.”

  In the land of mushrooms, she uncorked the bottle and poured us each a glass. I brought the glass to my lips and emptied its contents in two swallows. “That is good.”

  When I looked up, Tatum was staring at me as she slowly swirled her glass. “Did you even taste it?”

  I smacked my lips together. “Yes?”

  “It’s not beer, Trey. You’re supposed to sip it, slowly, so you can savor the flavor.”

  I grinned and took the glass from her hand. Stepping forward, I pulled her against me. “I’d rather savor your flavor,” I said and ran my nose along her jawline.

  “I’ll get the wine. You grab the glasses,” she said and headed for the stairs.

  I did as she asked and followed her upstairs to a bathroom that was bigger than most bedrooms, and the bathtub was about the size of a double bed.

  “I was planning on taking a long soak in the tub. Care to join me?” she asked.

  “Are you going to fill it up with girly smelling bubbles?” I asked.

  She grinned. “What if I said yes?”

  I dropped into a chair situated in the corner of the bathroom. “Then, I’d sit right here and watch.”

  She sighed dramatically. “Fine. I won’t put any ‘girly smelling bubbles’ in it.” Not waiting for my reply, she stripped off her clothes and stepped into the steamy water.

  Damn. The woman’s body was a masterpiece. Flawless skin, except for a handful of scars. Toned muscles. A nice, firm ass. And her tits were the most perfect pair to ever grace the earth. I palmed my dick and groaned in appreciation.

  “You know, if you got in here with me, I could help you with that.”

  She didn’t need to tell me twice. Quickly shucking my clothes, I stepped closer to the tub. Before I could step in, she stopped me by wrapping her lips around my hard cock.

  I groaned and tightly gripped her hair. “I’m not a gentle man,” I warned.

  “Mmmhmm,” she hummed and proceeded to slide her lips up and down my cock in a slow and teasing manner.

  I yanked her head back by her hair and tilted her face so her eyes could meet mine. “Are you going to suck my dick or am I going to make you?”

  Perched on her knees with her legs spread open and droplets of water running over her breasts, she grinned at me mischievously. “Make me.”

  “Fuck, yes,” I breathed and thrust my length between her plump lips. Using her hair to hold her head steady, I fucked her mouth with no shame, and she took everything I gave her.

  When I looked down, she had one hand between her legs while the other toyed with her right nipple. I pushed to the back of her throat and held myself there. “You like to be mouth fucked, sugar tits?”

  She met my eyes and nodded her head as best she could while moaning around me.

  I pulled out and gave her a moment to catch her breath before I shoved my cock back into her mouth. “That pussy is mine. I make it come,” I growled, each word punctuated with a thrust. “Not. You,” I declared and held her against me when my cock hit the back of her throat on the last word.

  She blinked up at me with watery eyes and swallowed. Swallowed. Then, she pulled some kind of voodoo hoodoo out of nowhere and somehow massaged my dick with the walls of her throat.

  There was nothing I could do to stop it, to warn her. The come shot out of my dick so fast and hard it almost hurt. I released her hair and tried to push her away, but she dug her nails into my ass cheeks and held on tight, swallowing every bit of my release.

  When I was finished, she pulled back and looked up at me while I stumbled back and collapsed into the chair.

  I closed my eyes and took a minute to catch my breath. Holy. Shit. That was by f
ar the most intense orgasm I’d ever experienced. Once I had myself somewhat composed, I opened my eyes to see Tatum staring at me with her tits propped on the edge of the tub. She winked, “Sucked you dry, didn’t I?”

  I smirked and stalked to the tub. “My turn.”

  22

  “Luke, what in the hell are we doing?” I shouted into the phone. Two weeks had passed since I moved Josie to another location, and absolutely nothing had happened.

  During the week, I went to the store as instructed, though I spent most of my time researching anything and everything I could think of related to Josie’s case instead of actually getting the store ready to open. I was tired of waiting for my team to come through with something helpful, but despite my efforts, I hadn’t found anything useful either.

  Luke sighed. “We’re doing our jobs, Tatum. Investigations of this magnitude can take months, sometimes years. I’m doing everything in my power to speed things up, but there’s only so much I can do without completely blowing the case.”

  “Fine,” I huffed in annoyance and disconnected the call.

  There was only so much he could do, but there had to be something more I could do, especially since I was no longer in charge of protecting Josie.

  It hit me all of a sudden, and I wanted to scream at myself for not thinking of it sooner. Instead of beating around the bush, I was going to go straight to the source, or one of the sources.

  Without giving it a second thought, I climbed into my truck and headed for the man I hoped would have some answers for me.

  * * *

  Despite the nerves churning in my gut, I forced myself to appear calm and confident on the outside. Truthfully, there was a fifty-fifty chance I might have my head blown off for even showing up on the property.

  “Miss Cross, right this way, please,” an older man said by way of greeting.

  “Sorry, Jeeves, that’s not happening until I know where you’re taking me.”

  “I do apologize, Miss Cross. I assumed you’re here to speak with the man of the house. His office is right down the hall.”

  “You assumed correctly. Carry on,” I said and gestured with my hands for him to continue.

  When we reached a heavily lacquered wooden door at the end of the hallway, he sharply knocked one time before cracking the door open and saying, “Miss Cross is here to see you, sir.”

  “Thank you, Donovan. Send her in.”

  Donovan stepped to the side and ushered me into the room that suddenly felt much smaller than it actually was. Sitting in a high-back leather office chair dressed from head-to-toe in a custom-tailored three-piece suit with his keen eyes staring straight at me was Luca Peccati.

  “Miss Cross, to what do I owe the pleasure of your unexpected visit?”

  I stepped closer to his desk but didn’t take a seat. Keeping my back straight and meeting his eyes, I said, “I need your help.”

  I expected him to laugh in my face or kick me out of his house. Instead, he clasped his hands together, leaned forward, and uttered the one name I was hoping to hear. “Is this about Sheldon Morgan?”

  I swallowed audibly and nodded. “Yes, it is.”

  “And what makes you think I can help? You have access to resources that are far superior to mine.”

  “All the technology in the world won’t grant me the connections you have.”

  His lips curled in disgust. “I do not have connections to Sheldon Morgan.”

  I took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk and crossed my arms over my chest. “Yes, you do. Cristofano.”

  “Cristofano despises Sheldon”.

  “And that’s what I came for. I need to know why.”

  Luca sighed and leaned back in his chair. “There are only two reasons that cause men to hate each other—a woman or money.”

  I waited for him to continue. When he didn’t, I asked, “Which one is it?”

  “Both.”

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. I was not in the mood to coax information from him bit by bit. “Will you please just tell me what happened?”

  He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. “How would sharing their personal story with you be beneficial for me?”

  I slapped my palms on my thighs and got to my feet. “Fuck this shit! I don’t have time for ass kissing and bullshit games. Thank you for your time, but I’ll figure out something else.”

  “Sit down, Tatum,” he ordered in a calm yet firm tone.

  I glared at him. “Say please.”

  He pulled a handgun from the pocket of his suit jacket and placed it on his desk. “I will not tolerate disrespect from anyone, especially not in my own damn office. Now, sit. Down.”

  I didn’t sit. Instead, I pulled my own gun from its holster and pointed it toward the floor. “I don’t tolerate disrespect either, Mr. Peccati. Now, if we’re finished with the pissing contest, I have business to tend to.”

  He removed something from a drawer and stood. He held up the small, black device for me to see. “May I?”

  I smirked and held my arms out to either side. “Go right ahead.” He nodded and slowly moved the device up and down my body, checking to see if I had any hidden cameras or listening devices.

  When he finished, he smiled. “Not even a cell phone. I’m impressed, Miss Cross.”

  “Really, Mr. Peccati? I’m not an idiot,” I said and rubbed my chest. “I’m slightly offended you think so little of me.”

  “You don’t give a single fuck what I think of you, and we both know it. Now, have a seat, and we’ll continue our conversation.”

  I bit down on the inside of my cheek to keep the sarcastic remark from leaving my lips as I resentfully followed his command.

  He returned to his seat behind his desk and took his time making himself comfortable. When he reached into another drawer, I wanted to scream at him to hurry up but managed to contain myself. Placing two glasses on the desk, he poured an amber liquid into each and pushed one in my direction.

  I didn’t want the drink, but I learned early on how to follow social cues and this was one I had to go along with in order to get what I wanted. So, I brought the glass to my lips and took a small sip, ignoring the burn as it made its way down to my stomach.

  After watching me, Luca took a sip from his glass and finally started to talk. “Adrianna is the daughter of the well-known media mogul Simon Barrington.”

  My head shot up at his words. “What?” I breathed.

  He nodded and continued, “Five years ago, Simon Barrington promised Adrianna’s hand to Nolan Morgan’s son Sheldon. During her last year of college, she was informed of her upcoming nuptials when she came home for winter break. Adrianna had a boyfriend at school and had no intention of marrying Sheldon. When she returned to school, she told her boyfriend about her father’s plans. I’ll spare you the details of how it was done, but one day, she seemingly vanished.”

  “And by ‘vanished,’ you mean she ran off with Cristofano?”

  “Infer as you wish.”

  I sat quietly for a few minutes and processed the new information while Luca slowly sipped his drink. “What was the reason behind the marriage?” I asked.

  “Every arranged marriage has the same reason behind it—an increase in power.”

  “How would a marriage between Adrianna and Sheldon result in an increase in power for either family?”

  Luca shook his head. “I don’t know the answer to that.”

  “If you had to take an educated guess, what would it be?” I asked, pushing for more.

  He reached into his desk and produced a folder. Pushing it to the edge closest to me, he said, “You cannot take that, but you may look at it while you’re here.”

  It was all I could do to refrain from snatching it from the desk like a greedy child. Leaning forward, I picked up the folder and studied the contents. I carefully read each page. When I reached the bottom of the third page, Luca pointed out, “The sixth and seventh pages should be of interest to
you.”

  Flipping to the sixth page, I began to read, and my jaw dropped open.

  Simon Barrington owned a private island in the Caribbean.

  Nolan Morgan owned two extremely large yachts—one was kept in Cape Town, South Africa, and the other was kept in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

  “With the information you already know, it shouldn’t be difficult to put the pieces together,” Luca suggested.

  “Holy shit,” I breathed. And then something else suddenly dawned on me. “What am I going to owe you for this?”

  Luca threw his head back and laughed. “Oh, Miss Cross, that’s cute.”

  When I continued to stare at him, waiting for him to give me the real answer, he finally gave in. “Other than not revealing me as your source, just put a stop to it. That’s all I ask.”

  “I will, or I’ll die trying,” I vowed. “And thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Should I expect any other visitors today? Perhaps from your boss or your biker man?”

  I jumped to my feet and placed the folder on his desk. “Shit! I’ve got to go.” With that, I ran out of Luca Peccati’s house like my ass was on fire. Because I had a feeling it would be if I didn’t get back to Devil Springs before Trey realized I wasn’t at the store.

  My steps faltered. I’d never cared what anyone thought about my actions—not my family nor my boss, and certainly not a man. But I suddenly realized that I didn’t want him to be worried, like I knew he would be. And just as quickly, I pushed the thought to the back of my mind. I’d have to comb through my feeling for the big, grumpy biker later.

  23

  After helping Judge install a security system at a new client’s house, I stopped by the gym to hang out with Coal and Savior before squeezing in a light workout while I waited for Tatum to finish up at the shop. She usually called it a day around five o’clock, and since she made it perfectly clear that I was not to disturb her while she was working, I waited for her to let me know when she was finished for the day.

  When I hadn’t heard from her by six o’clock, I started to get worried. “Have you seen Tatum today?” I asked Savior.

 

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