by Evelyn Glass
“He’s getting worse,” Stephan said. “If he keeps it up, he’s gonna get his whole gang killed sooner rather than later.”
Dirk cringed. “That bad?”
“Yeah. I hear the men are talking of overthrowing him.”
“Wow.”
Stephan shrugged. “They’re fed up.” He took a long swig from his beer. “Can’t blame them, really.”
“Who would take his place?”
“Dan Johnson.”
“Good choice.” Dan Johnson was the Oregon club’s VP—and the only reason why they were still afloat despite Jack’s disastrous leadership.
“So you like this girl, huh?” Stephan changed the subject abruptly. He was grinning, but his eyes bore holes into Dirk. “Should I be worried about your judgment?”
“Nah,” Dirk said. “I’m attracted to her, that’s all. You know I always keep a level head.”
“I know. But you know, it’s not the end of the world if sometimes you don’t.”
Dirk frowned. He was about to ask what Stephan meant when they heard a sudden crash coming from a few doors away.
“What the fuck?” Stephan said, immediately standing to full alert.
Dirk got up before the other man could, and he held out a hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it.”
Stephan nodded.
Dirk marched out of the room. He had a feeling he knew who was responsible for the noise.
Chapter 10
Camilla’s blood was rushing wildly into her ears. She could hear it as well as she would have heard the roar of a waterfall. She could hear the thumping of her own heart like the dull, menacing sound of war drums. She knew she was in trouble the minute she started to feel the chair rolling out from under her feet. The crash had been spectacular, and she knew it wouldn’t be long before someone burst in to investigate.
Sure enough, she was just trying to get back to her feet when the key in the lock turned and the door burst open. Dirk stood silhouetted in the doorway, a towering figure of rage and disbelief, as he took in the pathetic scene of Camilla sprawled on the floor next to the upturned desk chair.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growled, striding up to her and slamming the door shut behind him in the process.
Camilla desperately tried to think of something to say to him that would capture his attention and prevent his gaze from traveling up to the half-unhinged air vent panel. But Dirk was a six-foot-five mountain of a man, and he didn’t quite have to crane his neck in order for his eyes to fall onto the scene of the crime.
She caught the exact moment when he noticed the panel dangling from only one screw. He took in the screwdriver lying on the floor a few feet away from where Camilla had fallen. She watched his usually impassible expression morph into one of utter anger, and she couldn’t help but shiver.
He leaned down to grab her by the arm and hauled her up to her feet in one swift, harsh movement.
“Ow,” she protested weakly. “You’re hurting me.”
He shook her roughly, uncaring. “Are you trying to get us both killed?”
“I was just trying to get out of this room,” she said. “I want to see Stephan Walker. I think I’ve waited long enough.”
Dirk’s eyes flashed in a renewed bout of anger. “Listen, princess, I don’t know where the hell you think you are or what you’ve heard about him, but Stephan doesn’t fuck around. If he thinks I’ve got no control over you, he’s gonna shoot you in the head and punish me very, very severely.”
Camilla watched him carefully. She found herself smirking, as she slowly came to a realization. “Is that why you’re so furious right now?” she teased him. “Because your control over me wavered? Because I almost slipped out of your iron fist?”
Dirk gaped at her, and it was all too clear that he was more flabbergasted at just how easily she had read him than at the words themselves. “As long as you’re here, you’re mine. You hear me? You do what I say.”
Camilla arched an eyebrow. “Does it turn you on that you have so much power over me? That I’m helpless as long as I’m stuck here with you?”
She knew it did. And for some reason, it was turning her on, too. She had only intended to tease him, rile him up, but the more she talked, the more she realized this weird, absurd dynamic of theirs genuinely excited her.
He must have seen the lust in her eyes, because all of a sudden his blue irises darkened and a malicious smirk appeared on his lips. “Does it turn you on?”
Camilla wanted to lie. She wanted to slap him. She wanted to tell him that no, she was most definitely not turned on by a biker outlaw with a control fetish. But they both would have known she was lying.
“Maybe,” she conceded instead.
Dirk’s grin widened. “You know, I think you should really be punished for what you did here.”
Oh God. Camilla felt a surge of arousal go through her entire body. Images from their last encounter flashed through her head, and she found herself getting wet at the mere thought of what Dirk might do to her now that he was so fired up.
“I think so, too,” she found herself saying.
Part of her wondered just what the hell she was doing, but mostly she figured there wasn’t much else to do around here than give in to her instincts. After all, it had worked out wonderfully the first time; she had wet dreams about the orgasm Dirk had given her the previous day.
He pulled her in and kissed her roughly, and she knew in that moment that this time would be different. This time wouldn’t just be passionate and raw and animalistic. This time would be kinky. Rather than intimidating her, that realization filled her with curious anticipation. She had no idea what he was going to do next, and that was the most exciting thing of all.
“Here’s how it’s gonna work,” Dirk murmured hoarsely against her lips. “You’re gonna do all that I tell you to do. Understand?”
Camilla could only nod; she didn’t trust her voice.
He grinned. “Good.”
He walked up to the desk and rummaged inside one of the drawers. Camilla watched curiously as he took out a box of condoms and an ancient flip phone.
She arched an eyebrow at him. “Are you planning to call my vagina?”
Dirk stared at her with an almost solemn expression on his face, and it made her shiver with longing.
“It’s going to be a lot more fun than that,” he said.
Camilla swallowed past her suddenly dry throat. This man did things to her that she simply could not explain. “Who keeps condoms in their desk drawer, anyway?” she said.
Dirk winked. “I do.”
She watched in confusion as he turned the phone on and punched in the PIN number, and she was even more lost when he ripped open a condom and slipped it onto the phone. It was without a doubt the strangest sight she had ever seen—and that was saying a lot.
“What on Earth are you doing?”
“I’m gonna show you what happens when you misbehave. Come here.” He beckoned with two fingers.
Camilla hesitated.
“Come here,” he said again, emphasizing each word.
Reluctantly, Camilla did, because what other choice did she have? She was both intrigued and afraid at the same time. She stopped in front of Dirk and eyed him suspiciously.
“Unzip your pants,” he ordered.
Camilla complied. Dirk hooked a forefinger into one of the belt loops of her jeans and tugged her close. He captured her mouth once again, and as he did so he slipped the condom-wrapped phone between her panties. He sucked on her bottom lip as he pulled back, and he gave her a devilish smile that made her feel weak at the knees despite her mounting confusion.
“Care to explain why there’s a cell phone at my crotch?”
Dirk’s grin grew wider and, if possible, even more impish. “It works on an old number of mine. I’ve got it saved in my current phone.” He pulled a much more modern cell phone from his jeans pocket.
Camilla’s frown deepened. “And…?”
“And…” Dirk punched in something on the phone’s touch screen.
A moment later, the phone between Camilla’s legs vibrated. She gasped in surprise and, if she had to be honest, more than a bit of pleasure. It was like having little electric jolts of ecstasy shooting up her body.
“How was that?” Dirk asked, all fake innocence and sparkling blue eyes.
Camilla stared at him. “How do you think?”
“You seemed to have a good reaction.”
“No kidding,” she said, still slightly out of breath from the surprise.
Dirk shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Come on now,” he said, and he headed for the door.
Camilla stared after him. “Where are you going?”
“We are going to talk to Stephan.” He was clearly doing his best not to cackle.
Camilla looked at him in open disbelief. “You’re kidding, right?”
“What?” Dirk shrugged. “I thought you wanted to see him.”
“Not with a vibrating phone in my panties!”
She couldn’t believe it. Surely he couldn’t be that cruel? Except that she had the sinking, uncomfortable feeling that he could, and that he enjoyed it immensely.
“Why not?”
Camilla huffed. “Dirk, you cannot be serious.”
She started to reach into her pants, but before she could go further he had covered the distance between them and was taking her hand, effectively preventing her from getting herself out of that absurd situation.
“I’m dead serious.” He looked deep into her eyes, his face a mere couple of inches away from hers. “I told you, I have the power. I have the control. You’re going to meet Stephan now, and you’re going to behave, and you’re going to experience secret pleasure as you talk to him.” He grinned a dark, satisfied grin. “And I’m going to be the only one to know.”
Camilla stared at him. She studied his features for a few moments, and she didn’t know whether to kiss him or slap him. In doubt, she opted for neither.
“My God,” she breathed. “You’re really gonna do this.”
“You bet your pretty ass I am.” He pulled away and zipped up her pants one more time. “After you.”
Camilla took a deep breath and walked out of the room with as much dignity as she could muster. She couldn’t believe this was really happening. It was crazy. It was insane. It was so disrespectful she wanted to just turn around and kick him in that wonderful crotch of his.
But if what Dirk was doing was so wrong, why was she so hopelessly turned on by it?
Chapter 11
Camilla had thought Dirk’s blue eyes were intimidating, but they were nothing compared to Stephan Walker’s hazel ones. Stephan was a lot less jaded than Dirk and, if possible, a lot more unsettling. There was a darkness in him that Camilla spotted right away. The moment she saw him, she knew this was a man who would always do what was necessary, no matter the cost.
He had invited her to sit on his left at the long table in the meeting room, while he sat at one end and Dirk sat on his right. He had offered her a steaming cup of coffee and a smile, and yet Camilla was anything but reassured. Knowing that she had a fucking time bomb hidden in her panties also didn’t help the situation.
“I assume you know why I’m here,” she said when she finally couldn’t take the silence that had settled over them anymore.
Stephan’s blond eyebrows arched in surprise, and he shot a look at Dirk.
Dirk shrugged. “I told you, she’s feisty.” He looked at Camilla, a warning in his eyes. “In here, Stephan is the one who gets to speak first.”
“My apologies,” Camilla said dryly. “I just thought we were all adults about to have a conversation.” Her nerves were stretched so thin that they were almost raw. She felt like she had no more patience.
She jumped when the phone vibrated silently, rubbing against her clitoris in a rapid burst of sweet torture.
Stephan frowned. “Are you okay?”
Camilla did her best not to glare at Dirk. She did not want to give him the satisfaction. Instead, she forced out a tight smile. “I’m fine,” she said through gritted teeth. She thought she glimpsed an amused grin flash across Dirk’s mouth, and she felt the sudden urge to punch him.
“I understand you would like to leave us as soon as possible,” Stephan began after a moment.
Camilla bit her bottom lip nervously. “Yes,” she said. “I mean, you’ve got no reason to keep me here, I was never after information on you or your club.”
Stephan smiled a small smile that chilled her to her very core. It was a wolf’s smile, a hunter’s smile. “See, now that’s not entirely true.”
Camilla frowned. She had the feeling he wanted to get somewhere and it was more than him just not believing her. “It is true,” she said, as sincerely and emphatically as she could. “It’s Herman Ruiz and the Tar Mongols that my story was supposed to be about.”
“Yes, so Dirk tells me.” Stephan took a sip from his own steaming mug and stared at her from over the ceramic brim. “But you don’t seem to realize that a story on our number one enemy will inevitably end up featuring us, as well.”
“I wouldn’t—”
“Yes,” he interrupted her in a steely tone, “you would, and we both know it. So how about we just cut the crap, huh? You’re an investigative reporter, Miss Hernandez, and a very good one at that. That’s right, I’m familiar with your work,” he said when Camilla’s eyes widened in surprise. “I’ve been reading TIME for years.”
Camilla almost groaned out loud. These Minutemen really weren’t your ordinary MC—they were infinitely smarter, and infinitely more dangerous.
“You’re one of the youngest investigative reporters out there, with quite a few important stories under your belt at only thirty-five years of age. You’re no ordinary woman. You’re no ordinary journalist, either. You’re dangerous, Miss Hernandez.”
Camilla swallowed hard, and she didn’t care that he probably caught the movement. “So what do you want to do about it?” she said after a few moments, when she felt confident enough that her voice wouldn’t crack. “Are you going to kill me?”
Stephan stared at her. “I don’t kill women,” he said, in a matter-of-fact kind of way that sent a cold shiver down her spine. “I’m going to cut you a deal.”
Camilla watched him intently. “I’m listening.”
“Like Dirk has probably told you, there is no way in hell Herman Ruiz is going to let you leave California alive, at least not intentionally. You’ll stay with us until things have calmed down enough that we can smuggle you to the nearest airport. Eventually I’m going to let you go, Miss Hernandez, but on one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“That you give up on the story on the Tar Mongols.”
Camilla almost snorted out loud. She sat up straighter and lifted her chin a fraction in defiance. “That’s not gonna happen, Mr. Walker.”
Stephan sat back and spread his arms in a helpless gesture. “Then you put me in a very difficult position. I’m sure you can understand, I can’t have you sniffing around our territory, even if you’re not targeting us directly. The repercussions will hit us in full force, and I just can’t risk it right now. Or ever, for that matter.”
“I can’t not tell this story,” Camilla said again, determinedly. “It’s my job. It’s my duty to report on what goes on in the Mojave Desert.”
“Then you’re not going anywhere.”
“What are you going to do? Keep me as your prisoner for life?”
“No,” Stephan said. “I’ll keep you as my prisoner for a while, hoping that you’ll change your mind. When I’m convinced that you won’t, I’ll have to do what is necessary for the good of my club.”
Camilla stared at him. He might as well have said the exact words since the message was loud and clear: Stephan Walker did not kill women—unless it was absolutely necessary.
“You’re really not giving me much of a choice, ar
e you?” she said after a few moments, her head reeling with the information she had just been given.
Stephan gave her a small, almost apologetic smile. The disconcerting thing was, he seemed sincerely contrite. “I’m afraid not.”
Camilla nodded. She quickly analyzed the situation from every possible angle, but it truly seemed like there was no other way out of it. She would have to give up her piece. She would have to go against all of her morals and instincts as a journalist—and against her vow to herself that she would always, always strive to report the facts. She would have to turn her back on this assignment—at least, until she could get back to New York and she and Kurt could figure this one out.
