by Debra Kayn
Stache's chin dipped and he looked her in the eyes. "I heard the conversation. Where is he?"
"Who? Cam? Out looking for Jeremy," she said.
Stache's gaze softened. "Where's Jeremy?"
"He wouldn't tell me," she said, giving up.
"Why not?"
"Because he's mad, Stache. Why do you think he ran away? He hates me for lying to him." She shook her head, holding back the tears. "I don't know where he is. My phone died."
Stache turned around, pulling his phone out of his pocket. She plopped down on the couch. Should she call Cam before Stache could talk to him? Should she wait to see if Jeremy phoned her back? God, she wanted him home.
Chapter Eight
Music blared from Katie's car parked in the yard at Cam's house. Cam sat in the rocker on the porch, his hand on Christina's leg. He picked at a string hanging off Christina's shorts while the Moroad members surrounded the bon fire in Cam's yard, joking, drinking, and taking turns giving the Moroad women attention.
All he planned to do was sit and enjoy the calm before tonight's gun chain run. Afterward, he'd come home satisfied he'd earned the allotment of money for the week. He ripped off the stray string and flicked it to the ground. Life continued for everyone despite the troubles plaguing him, so why was he sitting on the porch with the woman who owned him, free in the eyes of Idaho, and wishing they'd all leave him alone?
Christina reached over and stroked his thigh. "Are you okay?"
He pulled his gaze from the crowd in front of him. "Yeah."
Christina's inner strength came through loud and clear. She refused to give any of the members information about Jeremy's phone call, and made Cam promise not to share when she relayed the conversation to him. She clung to Jeremy's accusations he threw at her, taking full responsibility for his absence. Once he found Jeremy, he planned to set the kid straight. The only person Jeremy had to blame was Cam.
Christina shifted on her chair. "I don't understand why we can't find Jeremy. You've gone after men before and dealt with threats from Reds. Do you think your contacts are keeping the information we need away from you?"
"I deal with men who have records, baby. They're easier to track, because they stay with their kind. Jeremy's a kid, and the only record he has comes from his time in foster homes and the public school system." Cam straightened his shoulders, pleased when the residual ache in his side gave mercy and didn't increase with the movement.
"He must be close. I can't believe he'd take off out of the state." She glanced out to the yard. "Could one of the men be hiding him?"
"They wouldn't go against the rules," Cam said.
Besides, he'd checked each member's house, not trusting anyone not to use the kid against him after setting Merk up for Judge Cranley's murder. The mobocracy— one step above anarchy— within the club constantly shifted. It took all his energy to stay ahead of his men without losing his life.
"I hate to admit it, but Jeremy was closest to Merk. They both enjoyed taking a ride and getting away from everyone." Christina sighed. "Sometimes Stache helped Jeremy work on his motorcycle and Gunner would volunteer to watch his back when I asked, but Merk and Jeremy formed an easy connection. Now that I know why, I wish I would've tried to keep them apart, instead of encouraging Jeremy to seek Merk's guidance."
"You didn't know." Cam patted his vest pocket for his cigarettes. He still carried a pack, just in case. "Hell, I didn't know they were blood."
Christina leaned against his arm and whispered. "Would you have done things differently if you had known?"
"Yeah." He inhaled deeply. "Fuck, I want a smoke."
"How about a kiss instead?" She raised her head and kissed him deeply.
He dipped his tongue, taking her sweetness. She met thrust for lazy thrust, sucking on him. His cock stirred to life and he pulled away. For how much he wanted to take her inside and have sex with her, he needed to keep his strength for tonight's ride. He hated to admit staying on his feet all day wore him out.
"Better?" She rubbed his bottom lip with her thumb.
"No." He grunted. Now he wanted a smoke and her.
She laughed softly and put her head back on his arm. "I wish you didn't have to leave tonight."
"I'll only be gone three hours if everything goes according to plan." Cam stretched his legs out, crossing his boots.
Twice a week, a different crew from Moroad MC met the gun exchange near the Idaho/Montana border. Blues— an all-black membered gang worked with the club, taking orders to keep the guns flowing from the east to west coast. The partnership worked well, except when the Reds—a Latino gang, wanted to push Moroad off the chain. So far, Cam kept everyone in business and the chain well protected by using his members inside the state penitentiary to keep power on the outside.
Lola broke away from Willy and walked to the steps of the porch. Christina's thigh underneath Cam's hand tensed. He squeezed, letting her understand he'd handle any questions. Though the Moroad women were frequent visitors to club parties, the women were kept in the dark on what happened within the club.
"Have you had any word from Jeremy?" Lola stopped and hugged her waist.
Cam stroked Christina's leg. "No."
"I keep hoping he'll ride over and see me." Lola shrugged in disappointment. "He's always stopped by the house or snuck into the back of Silver Girls and checked in, even when he was seeing Tiff. I miss having him around."
Christina sniffled. Cam refrained from giving Lola any answers she dug for. He appreciated Lola for the support she gave the others, but her status as a Moroad woman meant she stayed on the outside.
"He'll come back." Christina grabbed Cam's hand and held on. "Thank you for caring."
Lola shot a sad smile at Christina, nodded, and turned around to join the others. Cam wanted to believe the kid would return on his own when ready, but the longer he stayed away, the bigger chance one of the Moroad members would find him.
"I'm close, baby. Don't give up," he said.
Christina held his hand to her lips and kissed his knuckles. "I know you will."
The party continued. Cam continued to run through every step he'd taken in his search. Doubts continued to plague him each day he heard no word from Pretaro and Merk remained uncooperative. Merk's freedom imperative to making sure Jeremy's future remained in the club, he still hadn't heard a word from his vice president. While he bided his time, he secured the chain.
He'd contacted Miller, the leader of Blues, and used their partnership to get any information from them and if they'd noticed a Moroad bike on any of their travels. He'd played his hand carefully, keeping information away from Reds, who'd use any turmoil within Moroad against him. The chain needed to keep running for all their sakes.
He looked over at Christina and drew a breath into his tight chest. She stared out into the yard lost in her own thoughts. When she wasn't trying to bolster his attitude about their current situation, she escaped into her head. He wanted her with him, giving him her thoughts, and relying on him to make her happy.
His gaze dropped to her left hand. She absently twirled the silver band on her ring finger with her thumb. All his nerves tingled at the reminder of the woman he'd promised to protect by putting a ring on her finger. She had his back even when he never asked for her help. He trusted her more than he trusted the men in the yard and yet, he couldn't help feeling he'd failed to give her the one thing she needed.
She'd grown up with hopes and dreams, something he'd never experienced. He lacked the knowledge on how to incorporate the kind of support she needed to believe in him. Once she relied on him, she'd never judge him.
For once in his fucked up life, she'd be the one person who'd accept him for the man he was and look past the bad.
"Time to ride out," Bear called.
Christina's hand tightened around his fingers. Cam stood, stretching his stiff body, and pulled her to her feet.
She stood in front of him, biting her bottom lip. He tipped her chin and
at his touch, her eyelids fluttered. His balls ached in pleasure. Her connection with him gave him the stamina he needed. He'd never walk away from his responsibilities, and he'd do everything possible to make sure she never pulled away.
"Go ahead," he said, reading her mind.
"I don't want to hurt you," she said staying a foot away from him.
He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead. "It hurts worse knowing you want me to hold you and you're holding yourself back because you're afraid of hurting me. Don't ever hold back."
She ducked her chin and leaned into his chest, resting her cheek against his heart. He cupped the back of her head and held her in place. The only pain came from having to leave her for a few hours.
"Make sure you lock the door. Meese is staying behind and will watch the house." He grabbed a handful of her hair and tilted her face. "Do me a favor and text Jeremy's phone again when you get inside. Tell him Moroad is on a run tonight and you're safe."
"Why?"
"Don't question," he murmured.
She frowned. "Do you think he'll try to meet up with you?"
"No, baby. I think he might try to come to the house thinking I'll be gone and you'll be alone. I don't want him meeting Meese in the dark. He'll know what the message means," he said.
"Then send Meese away. I'll be fine by myself." She pulled away from him. "Maybe you're right and he'll come around and want to talk with me."
"I can't leave you unprotected. The others will wonder why I don't have anyone protecting the house against a deserter." Cam leaned down and kissed her. "Go inside and send the message. I'll be back when I'm done."
Christina opened her mouth, obviously changed her mind about questioning him and turned around, slipping inside the house. He waited until he heard the lock latch and headed for his motorcycle.
He led Johnson, Bear, Gunner, Stache, and Ring to their destination outside of Federal, while the other Moroad members escorted the Moroad women into town to Silver Girls. Jeremy's safety heavy on his mind, he had no guarantee the kid would read the message or believe Christina.
Cam rolled to a stop on the old Nine Mile Road, running adjacent to Interstate-90. He toed the kickstand and got off the bike. Christina's pampering paid off. His wounds were healing, and his body cooperated.
"Did you notice the lack of traffic for a Friday night?" Bear adjusted his skullcap.
Johnson sat sideways on his motorcycle and shoved chew inside his bottom lip. "It's tourist season. There should be traffic at all hours."
"Are they still blasting rocks in the Cascades? Maybe we hit a lull from traffic being stopped." Light reflected off Ring's hoop on his eyebrow.
Cam looked behind him, spotting oncoming lights. "Let's hope this is Blues and we can get out of here. Maybe if we're lucky, traffic will pick up the closer we get to the Idaho/Washington border."
Nothing stood out more than six bikers wearing Moroad colors cruising the interstate close to midnight. They'd have every state patrol officer tailing their ass waiting for them to make one violation. It was easier to use other vehicles for cover and split formation as they rode into their drop off location.
The vehicle stopped and two men got out. Cam met both of them at the front bumper.
A familiar face smiled through the darkness. Cam held back and started the prearranged conversation to make sure everything along the chain moved smoothly. "It looks like we'll have nice weather for the Gyro Festival tomorrow."
"I heard the Ryan Hotel was booked solid." Bobby, a dime server from prison, held out his hand.
With the right statement exchanged, Moroad MC moved forward.
Cam shook and motioned for his men to grab the duffle bags out of the trunk of the car. "Damn good to see you on the outside, Bobby. When did you get out?"
"Yo, man. It's been three months. Time goes a lot faster as a free man." Bobby's oversized teeth lit up his face. "Don't plan on going back until I wear out my girl."
"Right." Cam grinned. "No problems on the trip?"
Bobby shook his head. "Nah. We set the cruise and never saw a flasher."
If state patrol wasn't covering the east end of the interstate through the Silver Valley, something must be going down on the west side. Right where Moroad headed.
"Good to hear." Cam eyed the duffels carried out of the car. "Looks like we're set."
"Watch your back." Bobby smile faded. "I got a bad feeling, Farrell."
"About?"
"I don't know yet." Bobby shrugged. "My gramma always said trouble comes in on the wind. I've been smelling stink the whole way."
Cam learned long ago to listen to his gut and go off any instincts. "Thanks for the heads up."
"No problem, man. Ride safe." Bobby walked back to the vehicle.
Once the car left, Cam returned to his motorcycle, grabbed the duffel from Bear, and strapped it to his bitch seat. The signs were all there, he wouldn't chance his men's freedom.
"Stache, Bear, Gunner, you ride together. Johnson and Ring take the end. I'll take the lead. Each crew waits ten minutes before leaving and stick to the speed limit," Cam said.
"Is something up?" Johnson asked.
"Something is always up, unless you're Gunner and you have to have a woman's hand to do the job." Cam tied back his hair. "Just keep your eyes open. Let's get to the drop-off on time, and get back to Federal without losing anyone, huh?"
Moroad MC members always rode by the golden rule. Safety came in numbers.
Cam shifted and rode toward the interstate. In his experience, he'd rather handle any problem headed his way on his own. If the cops wanted to take him back to prison, they'd have to catch him first, and he didn't want to take any of his MC brothers down with him.
Chapter Nine
A pleasurable pressure built in Christina's body. She squirmed closer to the warmth, coming awake. Aware the heat came from Cam and the pressure from his mouth suckling on her breast; she thrust her fingers into his hair and hummed her approval.
Cam trailed his hand down her thigh and lifted her leg over his hip, pulling her closer. The rhythmic pull on her nipple made it impossible to lie still. She rocked against him. Her only thought centered around the love flowing through her veins and consuming her.
He squeezed her ass, pulling his mouth from her nipple and licking the sensitive bud. His warm, wet, tongue caressed her, tickling her arousal. Her sex spasmed. She hooked her foot behind his calf.
He nuzzled his face between her breasts and groaned. She held him to her chest. Her desire to keep him against her, letting him sooth her, came second to pleasing him. He was here, in her arms, and safe.
Cam's thumb slid over her wetness. She sucked in a breath and arched her back, pressing into his hand.
"Baby?" he murmured around a mouthful of flesh.
She realized her eyes were still closed and opened them. "Yes?"
"I want to fuck you."
Such a basic need, but the complications were still present. At the bottom of her heart, she wanted him to fuck her, to take her hard and fast. She loved watching his awareness slip until his need for her won. The control he only gave to her. But, he needed to take things slow and recover from his wounds.
"Please, let me help you," she whispered, knowing he'd get his way.
"Not enough."
"Um, if you sit on the edge of the bed, I could be careful and straddle your lap," she suggested.
"Need more." He circled his finger around her clit.
He bit her nipple, quickly licking the sting. She lifted her head. His gaze locked and she witnessed his pupils darkening in his already sexy eyes and his lips tip at the corners. Her spine trembled and at that moment, she'd agree to anything.
"Take everything," she whispered. "But don't hurt yourself."
He smiled. "I'm fine."
She laughed softly at him throwing her own words back at her and stroked his cheek. "Yeah, right. You'll lie for sex."
"Only sex with you," he said.
&
nbsp; He rolled her onto her back, settling between her legs. Propped up on his elbows, cradling her head in his hands, he stared down into her eyes as he slid into her body. The wonderful ache inside of her latched onto his length, clasping him tight. She slid her hands to his firm ass, promising herself she'd only hold on and not insist he move faster.
His muscles clenched under her fingers. "I'm done taking it easy."
"Are you sure?" She grinned, unable to stop taunting him.
"I'm going to fuck you, so you walk around the rest of the day knowing you belong to me." He groaned and drove in deep.
She gasped, holding her breath. He filled every inch of her.
He started moving, thrusting, filling her completely. Rough, hard, almost brutal, his strong hands held her mobile underneath him. His hips lifted and powered down against her. Then she no longer held her breath, she panted. Her nails dug into his ass and she raised her hips, helping him go deeper. She locked her calves around the back of his thighs, pulling him to her.
"Good," he said, kissing her deep and fucking her harder.
The possessive need and power started the wonderful turmoil, and she tore her mouth away from his and moaned. "I can't stop."
He growled, pumping harder. "Do it."
Suspended on a wonderful high, she gave up on treating him gently and clutched her hands onto his hips and drove her hips up, impaling herself fully on him. Uncontainable, she bucked with each orgasmic pulse raging her body.
He let go of her head and pressed his hands into the mattress on each side of her. He drove his hips down, even more powerful and strong. She quivered, sensitive and full. He leaned over and captured her mouth, thrusting into her once, twice, three times, and finally planted himself all the way into her pussy, groaning his release into her mouth.
He slid his lips off her mouth, kissed his way down her throat, and nestled his head in her neck. Underneath him, bearing his heavy weight, filled with his cock, she held him. His body trembled, exhausted and sweaty.
Rocking back and forth, extending her climax, his breath hissed out of him. She pulled her hands back in shock. She'd grabbed him in her aroused state.
