I turned my head slightly so his mouth could assault my own with a soul-stealing kiss that took my breath away. He continued to thrust in and out of me, his cock hitting that spongy tissue, and every time he did, it allowed me to move closer and closer to the oncoming waterfall of ultimate pleasure.
He abruptly withdrew from my body, leaving me empty and needing him there, inside of me. It was no longer just a physical want or need but a psychologically feeling as well. When we were together, he made me feel whole and I never wanted that sensation to end.
Linx turned me around and placed me flat on the sofa. He moved between my spread legs before he threw my legs over his shoulders and thrust his cock inside of me again. I gasped as he kissed my legs and continued his strong, slow thrusts, filling me completely.
I maneuvered my legs until they were wrapped around his waist and pulled him to me. He kissed me again while our sweaty bodies pressed together, rough and hard. Every time he moved inside of me, it brought me new pleasure and I moaned into his mouth.
My body was as ready as my mind and finally, I did it. I let go and freed myself of all the guilt, anger, shame and misery that I’d been carrying around with me like a cloak. The moment I did that, we truly connected, body to body, soul to soul. Although it was only temporary and I knew all those feelings would eventually return, for that one moment, we were all that mattered.
My orgasm was, indeed, like that rush to a waterfall and I tumbled over, my eyes wide open. I stared into the eyes of my husband, the man I could truly say I loved, as I came and my vaginal muscles flexed, squeezing him before he began to come too.
The pleasure we’d mutually brought continued until we were both spent and freed of the emotional chains that had bound for so long to something that never existed. We’d been our own worst enemies, wallowing in our mutual pits of misery and self-pity, but for that brief moment in time, I could read it in his eyes; he felt free too.
He withdrew from my body and instead of collapsing on top of me, he grasped my hands and clasped them within his own. I responded and squeezed his hands back with mine.
His full weight was pressed against my body and it felt delicious and solid.
I decided then and there that he would be the pillar of strength holding me up; and I would lean against him until I could finally stand on my own.
Chapter Twenty
LINX SLEPT PEACEFULLY with Trista in his arms that night and although he knew they would be leaving for L.A. later that afternoon, he felt like a better, stronger person than he was when they’d left the city on Friday afternoon.
They awoke Sunday morning and made love yet again. He knew he should have told her by now, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her something that didn’t matter—it could be reversed, but at the moment, it was better for everyone involved.
After Cassidy had sprung Jimi on him, he’d secretly gone to his general practitioner and scheduled a vasectomy. His could be reversed, but it prevented him from knocking up his ex-wife, or any other woman for the matter.
Trista deserved to know the truth: he was firing blanks, and no matter how many times they slept together unprotected, she wouldn’t become pregnant. He planned to tell her that afternoon before they went back to L.A.
Every time they had sex, he could see fear creep into her eyes, as if she was wondering whether this would be the time he would knock her up, even if it was just an accident.
They showered together and afterwards, dressed in the same bedroom in almost matching outfits. She wore a cute three quarter length peasant top in bright crimson and paired it with black skinny jeans and her favorite pair of black heels.
Unlike Cassidy, Trista had a body to die for. She had a wonderful figure with just enough tits, thighs and ass. She wasn’t some stick figure he thought he was going to break in half and he liked that about her.
No wonder Trey had guarded her with his life. Most men liked women who looked like her, not those anorexic types that couldn’t enjoy a meal. It was quite boring to watch a woman eat rabbit food because she was scared of gaining weight.
“Hey, what do you want for breakfast?” Linx asked as finished the wire transfer he’d promised Trey the day before.
“Pancakes and sausage. Make sure they send up real maple syrup and none of that Aunt Jemima shit.”
He laughed as he called down to order her pancakes and sausage. He ordered his usual: two eggs over easy, sausage and two slices of toasted sourdough bread.
Linx walked into the living room and found her on the sofa glancing down at her phone.
“Everything okay?”
Trista looked up, her sky blue eyes bright. “Yeah. It’s just a text from Trey. He and Keri got to Northern Ireland safely and are going to stay in Belfast for the night.”
“Is that safe?”
“It should be if they stay on the Catholic side. There is a charter there for the Saints. They will give him refuge until he can get to Omagh. Dizzy lost a niece in the blast too and was grateful to Trey for taking out so many White Knights. He couldn’t risk revenge—his oldest son, Cillian, is on trial for murder of an ATF agent, so the club can’t afford any more heat.”
There was a knock at the door and he stood. “Hold that thought. I want to tell you something.”
Linx opened the door and came face-to-face with Clooney. He was dressed in a pair of clean black jeans and a white silk shirt. He certainly didn’t look like a scruffy biker with his hair cut close to the scalp and clean-shaven face.
“What are you doing here, Bastard?”
Clooney’s steel-gray eyes were cold and lifeless as he flashed a badge. “It’s U.S. Marshal Hinton to you. Is Trista here?”
She must have heard his voice because she ran down the hall and was about to say something when she saw the badge. “Oh Fuck! Do the Bastards know you’re a federal agent?”
“Of course not, or I would be dead.” His eyes softened as he looked in her direction. “We need to talk. May I come in?”
Linx opened the door wider and Clooney-Hinton walked in, strolled to the living room and sat down on the sofa. Both he and Trista continued to stand.
“How old are you? If you’re a Fed, you sure as fuck aren’t twenty-two. Shouldn’t you be arrested for pedophilia or something? You broke my virginity when I was seventeen.”
Clooney-Hinton laughed dryly. “Naturally, I would have immunity for any illegal activities I have been involved in while undercover, and that includes the botched murder of Brooklyn Decker. He’s no longer unconscious and he’s squawking like a chicken in Carson City to the FBI, Homeland Security, the U.S. Marshals and anyone else he can get his greasy hands on. He wants in the Witness Protection Program.”
Linx stared at Trista whose jaw was flexed from her teeth grinding so hard together. “What the hell does any of this have to do with me?”
“Well, we know up until last evening, Trey was staying at Caesars Palace and then he and his porn star girlfriend, Keri Nielsen, took a cab to MGM Grand. Unfortunately, we lost them there and they haven’t been on the radar since. Where is he, Trista? He would have told you before he high-tailed it out of here.”
“I don’t know,” Trista lied, straight-faced, her face devoid of any emotion.
Clooney-Hinton glared at Linx. “And what about you, Mr. Carter? We know you wired him money but since he is a computer expert we’ll never find it but…he must have said something to you. Twenty grand isn’t exactly a small chunk of change.”
He stared at the duplicitous agent and thought the guy must have been in his late twenties, older than him, yet he’d fucked his wife when she’d been a minor and nothing would happen to him? He wasn’t about to tell this prick anything.
“Trey said he needed the money, something about trying to get to Vancouver.”
“Washington state?”
“No, Vancouver in Canada. Apparently there’s a charter there.”
Clooney-Hinton nodded his head. “Unfortunately, that isn’t the only reas
on why I’m here. You two are to come with me.”
“Is this a social call or are we under arrest for something?” Trista stepped closer to Linx and wrapped an arm around his waist.
“No. You didn’t know about Brooklyn Decker because he wouldn’t have told you. If he did, he would have been stupid and Trey Lennon is anything but stupid.” The U.S. Marshal stood. “No, this has something to do with an entirely different issue. Please follow me down to the lobby. We have a government vehicle waiting. If you refuse to comply, then I will be forced to place you both under arrest.”
Linx looked at Trista and she nodded her head. “Will we be back before check out? If not, can we at least put our luggage in my vehicle so we can take off when we get back?”
Clooney-Hinton rolled his eyes. “Yes, that would probably be best. By the way, I took the liberty of cancelling your breakfast. There will be plenty of food where we’re going.”
Linx felt like he was in a dream as he and Trista loaded their luggage into her SUV before she locked the vehicle and handed the keys to him.
“Don’t worry about checking out—we’ll take care of that.”
They were both escorted to a government vehicle, a black Chevy Tahoe with tinted windows so dark they looked black, even in direct sunshine.
Linx and Trista hopped into the back and she whispered to him, “What do you think this is about?”
He shook his head. “I wish I knew, but I can tell you that they don’t plan to tell us anything. Where ever we’re going is going to classified and we are strictly on a ‘need to know’ basis. They don’t trust us, so we’ve only got one option: go along with whatever they have planned.”
“This doesn’t feel right, Linx. Why would a U.S. Marshal infiltrate the MC? The FBI, ATF—I can understand, but…what the hell do the Marshals do? Why would they be so desperate, they’d plant a mole? Clooney is dead once Jonesy finds out.”
“Hey, I can hear, you know? The club isn’t going to find out and if they do then I know exactly where to come calling. I wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet in the back of your skull to protect my identity, Trista.”
“How the hell were you planning to make a life with me? Was that all bullshit talk and part of your persona?” she snapped back with anger and genuine hurt in her voice.
“No, that wasn’t an act, unfortunately. I was willing to take the chance and tell you if we had gotten together. You know a lot and I knew I would be able to control you—you need your brother free and I am the only person who can guarantee his ass doesn’t end up back in prison.”
Linx grabbed Trista’s hand and squeezed. She responded by squeezing back and they endured the rest of the ride in silence, rather than say anything else to this man. Anything they accidentally admitted might just close a cage door around them. It was better to act like they knew very little and send the Marshals on a goose chase to Canada.
They finally arrived at Nellis Air Force Base and passed through check points with ease. What the hell were they doing here? The place had tighter protection than Fort Knox. There were military checkpoints everywhere.
After passing several, they drove out to a gray and black, recently designed-looking building that was in the middle of a barren desert area. The vehicle came to a stop and Linx helped Trista out while Clooney-Hinton stepped out from his side.
“Just remember you’re civilians on U.S. government land. One wrong move and you will be shot. We don’t wound either…if we consider you a threat you will be taken out of here in a body-bag.”
“Save the canned speech for someone who actually gives a damn and go fuck yourself.” Trista glared at her ex-boyfriend, her blue eyes colder than an Eskimo’s dick. “I’m going to ask you one more time because I’m getting tired of repeating myself like a goddamn parrot! Why. Are. We. Here?”
“You’ll find out soon enough. Follow me.”
Linx and Trista stepped in line behind him and were flanked by two military officers with automatic firearms. He’d seen more than enough in his life to know those were loaded with the kind of ammo that splintered when it pierced the body; almost any shot to the body cavity would be fatal. A bullet wound to the arms or legs would possibly result in amputation from the point you were shot. It was not a pretty scenario he painted in his head.
Clooney-Hinton led them through long corridors where card keys and passwords were needed to enter. The last one had voice recognition technology. He then turned toward them but his gaze was firmly locked on Trista.
“By the way, I’m thirty but have always looked young for my age. I did serve in Afghanistan under the United States Air Force, but that was way back in 2002. After I was honorably discharged, I changed careers and decided to become a U.S. Marshal. We have been trying to infiltrate and destroy these biker gangs for decades. They are just as much of a threat to the security of the United States as the Russian, Chechen, Ukrainian Mafia organizations and the Chinese Triads.
“We tried to go through Jackson, but his business dealings are legit and he has nothing to do with the biker gangs. The White Knights are too unstable and it was decided there would be too much scrutiny if we tried to infiltrate Lucifer’s Saints. Besides Dizzy’s all-white policy, he insists most of your lineage be Irish. Unfortunately, I’m English, Dutch and German, so that kind of left me assed out. The Bastards were the final choice so I hope you realize, it was absolutely nothing personal.”
“Nothing personal my ass. You fucked me for over a year and pretended to love me yet that isn’t personal? How the hell did you get Trey to sponsor you?”
“Blackmail. He knows who I am and that makes him a dangerous commodity. I also promised to keep him out of prison if he cooperated. Whether you realize it or not, the life of violence, murder and mayhem that has surrounded the towns of Pine Bluff, Birch Tree and Black Oak in Northern Nevada will soon be coming to an end. The MCs are nothing but relics of a forgotten era and have outlived their usefulness. They should have died off with the vast majority of the Italian Mafia.”
“Just shut up,” Trista snapped before she grabbed Linx’s hand again and held on tight. “I don’t want to hear anymore, I just want to know why I’m here.”
Linx tried to concentrate on the air conditioned room but it was no use. He was just as curious as to why they had been brought to this place as Trista and although he tried to hide it, his heart hammered inside his chest. He hadn’t felt this kind of anticipation since the last time they played a show on the Gods of Rock Tour.
Clooney-Hinton turned away from them, punched in a code and then said, “Marcus Hinton.”
The light on the key pad next to the heavy, steel-plated door turned from red to green and the doors slid open.
“Come on, the door only stays open for ten seconds unless there has been a security breach.”
Linx and Trista walked through the doors quickly behind him and the door abruptly shut, the lock sounding in place. He noticed the soldiers weren’t behind them anymore as they continued to walk down another endless hallway.
He took her hand in his again and she accepted it willingly, following the guy they had thought was a biker and member of the Demon’s Bastards, until he showed up at their hotel suite and dropped the U.S. Marshall bomb. The way he said his name into the voice recognition software was the last puzzle. He really was a federal agent who had infiltrated one of the most notorious biker clubs in history.
Clooney-Hinton stopped at a plain, steel-plated door and knocked softly.
There were sounds from the other side of the room before the door was opened by a middle-aged gentlemen, obviously Irish, with killer sky blue eyes—Trista’s eyes—and good looking features. He glanced at Linx quickly, but it was Trista who held his gaze.
Linx glanced at his wife as she stared into the man’s eyes in obvious disbelief.
She blinked several times before she opened her mouth and said, “Daddy, is that you?”
Chapter Twenty-One
MOTHER OF CHRIST.
&
nbsp; My fucking father was alive and breathing—staring back at me as if I were an alien. Soon, my mother joined him but she had no hesitations. She walked over and embraced me.
“Oh my sweet baby, I’ve missed you so much.”
Linx had let go of my hand and I embraced her back. I wanted to hold on for dear life, because this couldn’t be possible. If they were alive, then who had we buried in the family plots at Pine Bluff Cemetery?
As we separated, she finally glanced at Linx, her eyes wandering back to me. “Why are you with Linx Carter?”
“I would prefer you address me as if I’m standing here in front of your face.”
Linx’s cornflower blue eyes had changed and they were filled with so much frustration and pain. I knew he was suffering just as much as I was, yet, I still couldn’t believe how my parents had fooled so many people into believing they were dead.
Were Tristan and Taryn alive too? Would I get to see them?
“How?” I looked from Dad to Mom and back again. “I mean…the Sheriff said they ran tests and they came back positive for your DNA.”
“Brooklyn Decker saw a meet with your father and I go down,” my ex-boyfriend, who was never a prospect at all, but a thirty year old Federal Marshal who had broken my virginity, spoke up. “We found out about it because we were always tailed by FBI agents. You see, your father—”
“I think you should leave, Marcus. This is something best explained by me and for my family’s ears only, you got that?” my father cut him off.
“Yes, sir.”
It was obvious Clooney-Hinton was pissed, but who gave a shit? I know I didn’t and the sooner that pedophile left my sight, the better it would be for all of us.
Both Linx and I walked into the room before my father closed the door.
The place was large and airy, though it was claustrophobic at the same time—it was like the perfect apartment, except underground. We were several hundred yards under the ground and the place was protected like Fort Knox. What the hell did my parents know that they hadn’t bothered to tell me?
Out From Under Page 17
