Whoever stood in the doorway didn’t move.
Thorn groaned and sped up.
It had been a long time since she’d been dry humped. If she could call it that, as she was wet as all get-out. She only knew that with his cock pounding such a sensitive area, her need for more escalated with each push.
“Thorn,” she moaned, her fingers digging into his arms.
As if he understood, he pulled her leg higher until his length pressed above her clit. He rocked as his fingers pulled and twisted her beaded nipples. Exquisite pain arched her back for more. He whimpered. Why was he torturing himself? Would he take her now? Instead he shifted his penis until it was between the slick folds, but still not inside. How could he hold back? From what she knew of men, they never held back. She admired his willpower, but really, she needed penetration, hungered for it.
She moved her hips, hinting that he didn’t have to wait. Instead of following her lead, he scooted down, pausing to suck one and then the other tender nipple. Unable to verbalize what she wanted, she threw her head back and squealed.
Thorn looked over his shoulder, “Close the fucking door, asshole!”
The door slammed shut.
She hoped the pervert’s frustration surpassed hers.
When Thorn didn’t stop, she took a deep breath and prepared herself for whatever came next. He continued to slide down her body. He hooked her knees over his shoulders and kissed her warmth, deeply and fully.
Another hearty squeal escaped her before she bit her lip to prevent any more from breaking free. The man knew a thing or two about women. Her other boyfriend had given a halfhearted effort between her legs. Thorn obviously enjoyed it. His enthusiasm showed in the way he swirled his tongue, in between sucking and nibbling at her clit. And he actually hummed. That was sinfully blowing her mind.
She floated with each touch until her body bowed up in a knot and she screamed, not caring who heard, as her body jerked with each wave.
Weak, she tried to catch her breath. Her fingers trembled as she touched his hair.
What was it about him? Why was he different?
—
Thorn kissed her thigh and inhaled. Damn. Her intoxicating scent made him crave more, but he needed to pull back before he did something he’d regret.
Fuck. He already did.
He pushed to his hands and knees and hovered over her. His dick ached like a son of a bitch, but seeing her eyes half-closed and a barely there grin of satisfaction almost caused him to explode.
If his boss ever learned what he’d done, his ass would be hung out for the district attorney to chew on.
Later. He’d think about it later. No one would keep him from having what he could of her. Somehow he needed to find the strength to wait until after he placed the majority of the Brothers of Mayhem in prison.
“If you ever want some extra cash, you can always pimp your mouth. Oh, my God, you are talented.” She smiled and ran her hand down his jaw. “Time for you.”
Before he registered what she’d meant, her hand wrapped around him and stroked. Hard. Damn. The woman had her own talents.
He covered her fingers.
“Let me go,” he said in a low, calm voice.
“But—”
“Not now.” Shaky with lust, he fought the desire to hold her down and fuck her senseless.
“But—”
“Cass. Sugar. I’ll be fine. Knowing Stonewall, he’ll be up here once he hears from the lug nuts that we’ve ‘done it.’ ”
“What will we do then?” Face flushed, she blinked and then took a deep breath.
She recovered nicely. He loved throwing her off balance, but they didn’t have time to waste. He’d never have guessed with the childhood she had and the way she had barged into the bar that morning, that she’d be so sweet and, in some ways, so guileless.
He drew a finger down her nose. “Just play along.”
“I’ve gone this far, might as well go all the way. Pun unintended.” She gave him a teasing smile.
He could only imagine what was going through her mind. She stretched. Her breasts lifted, the tips jutting as if they wanted his mouth again. Forcing his gaze away from the dick-hardening sight, the twinkle in her eyes warned she liked him looking, and she’d make him pay for not going all the way.
With superhuman effort, he turned away and sat on the edge of the bed. Feet flat on the floor, elbows on knees, he rubbed his eyes and then his face before smoothing back his hair. Shit! He was only twenty-seven, but he felt a hundred. He glanced down. But what century-old man wouldn’t be thrilled with the hard-on bobbing between his thighs?
“Thorn, how did you get mixed up with the Brothers?”
He glanced over his shoulder. She’d pulled the sheet up to her breasts. Good. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back. Besides, he didn’t like the thought of Stonewall’s men seeing more of her than they had already. Talking about his relationship with the Brothers would help. He’d stick to his cover story. Most of it was true, anyway. The best liars knew how to use the truth to their advantage. Being undercover only meant he could out-lie most of the people around him.
“I wandered around Alabama for a while after leaving the Army until I decided to see the old homestead. One night, I stopped at the Skull and Bones. The bartender had skipped out during his shift, and I wanted another beer. So I got behind the counter and poured myself one, and before I knew it, I’d pulled a few for some others. Stonewall showed up, asked my name, and wanted to know if I was any relation to Trick? I told him the sorry asshole was my uncle. He said I had a job if I wanted it.” He didn’t add that the Sand County Sheriff’s Office had carted off the original bartender and encouraged him to move to another state. That gave Thorn a chance to draw Stonewall’s attention. Everyone in the county knew the Brothers of Mayhem owned a percentage of the place.
“Okay. That explains how you work there, but why join the Brothers?” She hugged her knees to her chest, resting her chin on top.
“I love motorcycles.”
“That’s not enough of a reason.”
“Does it matter?” He wished she’d let it drop.
He hated lying to her.
That stopped him in his tracks.
When had it bothered him before? It was part of his job. Lying to the bad guys. Only thing was, she wasn’t one of the Brothers’ girlfriends. He’d liked her more than he had anyone in years. The woman had guts.
She tilted her head. “One more question?”
He hesitated, giving her another glance over his shoulder. Her curiosity was visible on her sweet face. He nodded.
“Are you a cop?”
Chapter 8
Cassidy waited for Thorn’s lie.
She knew. It all made sense. His refusing to let them gangbang her. No girlfriend laying claim. Not firing back at the Thirty-Second. Despite his love for bossing her around, he was too nice. Polite, even. He never raised his hand to her. She had a big enough mouth for it to have happened several times throughout the day. The clincher in her mind was that he willingly got her off and had not expected anything in return. No Brother thought about going down on women. They expected to be serviced, not the other way around. Stupid, ignorant scumbags.
He had to be law enforcement. If not local, ATF, or possibly DEA.
“Cass, saying things like that can get me killed.” Thorn stood, pulling his jeans up, tucking in a semisoft penis. Oh. My. God. That was hot. How could something so normal be so sexy?
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”
“I’m not a cop.” His solemn expression didn’t convince her.
Only in the movies and on TV would people believe an officer had to admit it when asked. Maybe elsewhere, but not in Sand County. Her dad and Mitch used to warn her and Storm all the time.
She smiled and raised her eyebrows. Inside, his denial hurt a little. For some crazy reason, she’d hoped he’d tell her the truth. Trust her as much as she did him, even thou
gh it had been only one day, and a hell of a day. But she almost expected men lie to her. They did, more often than not.
“Listen, I grew up in the middle of the club. My dad was president and Mitch VP. By the time my mom died, I’d seen it all. I knew there was no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny. They never visited wherever we lived. I knew what boys wanted from girls, and where babies really came from. There is no hope or happy endings for people like me. I’d never wish on anyone the childhood that Storm and I had. I want more. I want better for us.” She ended her monologue with a sigh.
One knee on the bed, he leaned over. “You deserve better. Rest for a little bit.” He kissed her lips and then stared into her eyes. “Your side okay?”
Her heartbeat picked up speed. Was he merely being kind or did he feel the same as she did? She wanted to ask him about his aches and pain. The swelling around his eye looked better.
“Yes.” She touched it gingerly. She glanced up at the narrow window near the ceiling. “It’s not daylight yet. Come back to bed and hold me for a little while. You need rest too.”
As he stared at her, whatever was going through his brain said she could be trusted. Or did he feel guilty? She would take anything she could get.
“Okay.” Jeans still on, he tugged on the sheet and shook it. Dust floated all the way to the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Then he let the sheet float down over them. “Turn over on your other side.”
A little disappointed that he wore his pants, she followed his request. His long body spooned hers. One tattooed arm rested above her waist and her wound, and one broad hand rested on her opposite shoulder.
Was there something wrong with her? She wanted to forget all of her troubles. To sink into the mattress and sleep in the arms of the man who had proven over and over again he would keep her safe, if at all possible. But he refused to trust her in return.
The click she hated more and more resounded in the room like a gunshot. The guard snickered. “Lucky fucker wore himself out. I bet that’s some good pussy.”
“Fuck! I wanted to see her tits,” the other guard said. “Did you see them?”
“Nah. He was all over that.”
Thorn’s fingers squeezed her shoulder.
Finally, she relaxed when the door clicked shut.
She felt certain that if Thorn hadn’t been worried about leaving her alone, the guards would be picking up their teeth from the floor. The idea of Thorn beating the assholes for her shamelessly brought a warmth to her body. She wiggled a little closer. Hardness surged in the crease of her buttocks despite the thick cotton material of his jeans.
“You’re killing me, Cass,” he said with a release of breath.
“Sorry.” She grinned. He needed a reminder of what he was too noble to take.
The warmth of his body seeped into her own. She could stay like this forever. As she relaxed, she slowly drifted off to sleep.
—
Thorn eased off the bed and pulled on his cuts. He stepped into his boots and, leaving the laces undone, he walked carefully to the door. He didn’t want to wake Cass. Hell, he needed a little time to think about what to do next.
He’d watched her sleep for the last hour. Several problems swirled around in his head, but the main one was, could he persuade his boss to take her out of there and put her in protective custody? She wasn’t in any danger for now. He’d made sure of that with their little lover act, but she’d have to stay close to him to ensure it. That in itself would be too dangerous. The situation could change quickly. Anyway, how would he do his job while protecting her? She already suspected his motives. The other option was to get permission to tell her the truth. He could just imagine what Harper would say about that.
Boy! Have you lost your mind? She’ll go straight to Stonewall and use you as a way to pull her brother away from the MC.
He turned the knob.
“Where are you going?”
He looked back. Resting on an elbow with her head on her hand, she waited sleepily for his answer. Damn, his dick wanted to return to her and bed.
“I need a smoke and some fresh air. I didn’t mean to wake you.”
One corner of her mouth quirked up. “Worried about waking me? You kill me.” She shook her head, amusement bringing a twinkle to her eyes. “That’s why I asked you that question earlier. You’re nothing like the Brothers.”
He understood what she meant. The Mayhem Brothers believed women were placed on earth for fucking, cooking, and being drug mules or prostitutes, and not much else. So if their old man was awake, his old lady should be awake too.
“I don’t care what anyone thinks. Go to sleep. I’ll be back in a few. No one’ll mess with you now.” He opened the door. The hallway empty of guards. They’d given up hope of gangbanging Cass. Or did Stonewall have something else on his mind? The prez hadn’t checked on them again as he’d expected.
Thorn had his answer midway down the stairs. The distant thump of the bass became the beat of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s “Sweet Home Alabama” when he reached the main room. Colored strobe lights in the center brought a surrealistic, hellish appearance to the room, with different bodies in various positions revealed with each flash. One of the guards leaned against the wall, smoking a fat joint as he stared at a woman riding reverse cowboy on his buddy. A blonde deep-throated Mac as he thrust to the music, arms held high. Across the room, a nearly comatose woman spread over a barstool was being fucked from behind by Trick. Two females kissed and rubbed against each other as Stonewall guzzled beer and groped their breasts.
The air smelled of pot, sex, and brew.
“Where’re you going, Brother?”
Thorn wanted to ignore Stonewall and reach fresh air, but he needed to renew their good terms; otherwise, the last few hours would’ve been for nothing. He figured after that little test, they’d lay off him for a while. Besides, Stonewall should be feeling good, as he’d won an extra twenty percent of something from Trick.
“To call Wolf and see if my ride is ready.”
“Yeah. Trick was fit to be tied to see his hog sitting out back. Personally, I’d strip it. Too much metal for my taste. I love them light and fast.” Stonewall bottomed up his beer can as he tweak one girl’s nipple.
Making his escape while Stonewall’s attention was on his drink and women, he nodded and walked away. He didn’t look back, but he felt Stonewall’s gaze between his shoulder blades. Damn! He didn’t need this. If he didn’t call in soon, who knew what Harper would be planning next?
Thorn looked around and noted a prospect guarding the parking lot a few yards away. One step into the shadows, he waited a few seconds, making sure no one followed, before pulling out his cellphone.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Harper was never known for delicate hellos.
“Been in a situation that I had to take care of.”
“Everything okay now?”
“I’m not sure.” Thorn shrugged and stretched his neck. Time he got over being a chickenshit about it. He’d never worried about his decisions before, but this involved someone he cared about. Fuck. He did. “Dean?”
“What?” When the line remained quiet, the older man snapped, “What’s your problem? Spit it out.”
“Let me first get you up to date.” He then proceeded to tell his handler what had transpired after their quick conversation the day before.
“So she’s Easy’s daughter?” That was Mike Ryder’s street name. Considering his long, violent rap sheet, there was nothing easy about the man.
“Yeah. Her foster father being Mitch “Speed” Crane. He was best friends with Easy.”
“You’re shitting me? The girl is immersed in it big-time.”
“That’s just it. She’s not. She’s been trying to get her brother out of the life.” Here it goes. “I think we can use her help.”
“Then use her.” Harper’s simple agreement wasn’t exactly what he wanted.
He flinched. “I want to turn her into a CI.” Setting up Cass as
an official confidential informant would give her a degree of protection when the case was over. That was the least he could do.
“If it was anyone else, I would be reading you the riot act on having sex with suspects.”
Thorn thrust back his shoulders. No way in hell would he admit to what he’d done earlier. It was too close to the act itself. Yet with her status changing to CI, he could use her any way he deemed fit, short of giving her drugs or killing her. What about sex? If she was considered his girlfriend…Morally, it would be wrong. He needed to hang tight and not go there.
“Damn it, Harper. She’s not involved with their schemes. She’s clean, but I need to use her. I want to bring her in. She’ll be a big help. Give me validation.”
The silence was actually a good sign. That meant Harper was thinking about it and not resisting straight out, as he’d expected.
“How can she assist?”
“You know how I haven’t been able to get into the inner circle of the club? She’s the ticket. They’ll have to trust me if they believe she’s my old lady.”
Nothing again.
“What do you think?” Thorn prompted.
Harper cleared his throat and said, “Okay. If you trust her. Don’t blow this. If you fuck it up, I’ll be sure you’re doing traffic duty for the next ten years.”
“It’ll work.”
After a few more words, he ended the call and leaned back against the cool brick. Fuck! He must be a masochist. He’d just ensured that Cass would be with him 24-7 until the operation was over. Hell, he hoped it wrapped up in the next couple weeks. Harper had mentioned the higher-ups were complaining about the cost. Money could close down an operation just as fast as mistakes.
As a CI, she wouldn’t be a victim or a suspect. Chances were she wouldn’t testify. So anything said or done to her wouldn’t be used in court.
Was he just trying to find a loophole to get between her legs? Ethically, he shouldn’t touch her sexually, but if they were to become lovers, it would be unlikely to stir up much trouble down the line.
One thing was for sure. He saw a lot of cold showers in his future.
Hidden Heat (Brothers of Mayhem #1) Page 8
