She ignored him as she sucked and licked.
“Baby. God, baby. I hate to stop you, but someone is knocking on the door again.”
Whoever it was could wait.
Determined to bring him to climax, she pumped, firmly and with a rhythm to ensure his climax. Just like riding a bicycle, she remembered to breathe through her nose and straightened her throat, causing the muscles to massage the head of his cock.
“Oh, please. You’re killing me.” He clasped her hair, not to pull her away but to show her the speed needed. “Yes, darlin’.” Before she knew it, he came and she did what any good old lady would do: swallowed.
“Damn, that was hot,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion.
When she sat back and smiled, his gaze softened.
She had so much she wanted to say but couldn’t. So she looked up at him. He leaned down and kissed her forehead.
“I hate to tell you, sugar, but the police are here, and they won’t go away.”
—
Thorn’s long stride covered two steps at a time to keep the deputies from breaking down the door. He hadn’t even taken time to put on a shirt or boots. If anyone could see through their windows, they would believe the broken furniture was probable cause to enter.
He’d asked Cass to stay upstairs. If there was a way not to involve her, it would be best. Though the deputies were from Sand County, they wouldn’t know him. Harper had hired him from the Birmingham Police Department. Thorn had impressed several officials by helping to provide evidence against one of the largest gangs in the city.
At this point, as far as these deputies knew, he was a member of a local OMG, outlaw motorcycle gang, and a member of the Savalas crime family. Now he was causing trouble in a row of townhouses in their jurisdiction.
If they were good cops, he’d be okay. If they were the type who took out their resentment for a low-paying, high-risk job on anyone they deemed less worthy, it might be a long and dangerous night.
He cautiously opened the door wide. No need to get shot by acting aggressively.
“Sir, we received a call about a disturbance. Is everyone okay?”
“Yeah. Just a buddy and me were horsing around and broke a coffee table. That was all.”
“Is your buddy still here?” The other deputy moved into the room and eyed the destruction. Besides the coffee table, they had knocked over a lamp and chair.
“No. He left about fifteen minutes ago.”
“Are you alone?” The deputy asking the questions looked hard at his bruised cheek and ribs.
Shit! He wanted to say yes, but he couldn’t take the chance. “No. My old lady is upstairs.”
The deputy walking around the living room picked up Thorn’s vest with the Brothers of Mayhem skull and bones on the back. It was hanging on a kitchen chair, left there after they reached his place. He lifted it high to catch his partner’s attention. The other deputy’s eyebrows rose.
“Is she upstairs?” When Thorn nodded, the middle-aged deputy said, “Ask her to come down. Just go to the stairwell and holler. No need to go up.” The deputy’s hand was on the butt of his gun.
Nervous much?
But he couldn’t fault the deputy. If their roles had been switched, he would be careful too.
“Sure.” He stopped at the bottom step. “Hey, Cass. Come down here for a minute. The deputies want to ask you a few questions. Don’t be afraid.”
He wanted them to be aware of her fear. Growing up as she had, there was no telling what her reaction to their badges would be.
“What’s going on?” She’d straightened her clothes, brushed her hair, and looked like a million bucks. Her mouth was slightly swollen and her cheeks were flushed. His dick twitched. He liked knowing he’d made her look that way. The boys in beige would know she belonged to him.
“Miss, if you would step over here.” The middle-aged deputy nodded toward a spot on the opposite side of the room.
Thorn couldn’t hear the questions he asked her as the younger deputy decided to pat him down. A little late for that, buddy. I could’ve taken you both out already.
After another forty-five minutes of questions and the expected report from the sheriff’s office that Thorn had no outstanding warrants, they left with a warning not to be so noisy. Respect your neighbors.
“It does look like a disaster.” Cass stood in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips. “No wonder they were worried.”
He pulled out a broom and a small vac from a closet near the front door and began sweeping up the glass from the coffee table, while she followed behind him, vacuuming the smaller shards.
She opened the refrigerator, pulled out a jar of jelly, and said, “Why do guys never have any decent food to eat?” She lightly squeezed a loaf of bread sitting on the small microwave. “Want a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? Your bread looks okay.”
“Peanut butter only.” He leaned against the bar and watched her. How domesticated they acted: vacuuming, cleaning, making sandwiches, and talking about the plans for the evening. Yeah, almost like a real couple. “I haven’t heard from Stonewall. Considering how pissed he was, he may let me stew for a while.” He looked at her with heavy eyelids. His gaze drifted down to her blouse.
—
Immediately, her misbehaving nipples stretched out to say hello.
What was she doing? Asking for heartache? All of this was pretend. They weren’t a couple. The sex was real, but she knew men thought of it as a bodily function and nothing more. A way to relieve stress. He acted kind and looked so damn hot, especially when riled. She thought of the phrase, “A lean, mean, fighting machine.” That was Thorn.
“Let’s take the sandwiches upstairs.” His smirk was kind of cute. Maybe because she probably had one on her face.
“I’ll bring drinks.” So what if it wasn’t real. She planned to enjoy every second with him. The memories would have to last a long time. Her chances of ever having a man like him again were slim to none.
A phone rang. Hers was still next to the bed without minutes.
Thorn pulled his phone out of a jean pocket and checked the screen before answering. “Yeah?” He listened and looked at her. “I’ll bring her with me.” He didn’t look happy about it. “I understand.” Then he pressed a button and shook his head.
”What?” She frowned.
“Stonewall’s old lady is having a bachelorette party for a friend and has ordered that the club’s old ladies show up with presents.”
“You’re kidding. Have they changed their mind about me being a snitch?”
He shrugged. “By the way Mac said it, nobody has a choice. Not club business.”
Why did a little thrill of excitement come over her? Maybe it had to do with her self-involved parents. She grew up rarely having friends over. In turn, invites for the normal rites of passage were rarer.
“Do I have time to pick something up? Oh, my God, what should I buy?” A panic ran through her body. Would the other old ladies tease her for not buying the right gift?
He grinned, folding her into his arms. “Don’t worry. We don’t have to be there until tomorrow at three.”
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Does that mean we can be alone and…”
Her voice trailed off.
She had it bad. The dirty little grin on his face sparked a need between her legs that had her face immediately heating.
He whispered in her ear, “Cassidy, what are you thinking?”
“Am I too heavy for you to carry up the stairs?”
He chuckled and threw her over his shoulder and ran up the steps, hitting every other one without even breathing heavy.
“That’s right! I forgot,” she said breathlessly.
She laughed with him as she remembered how easily he’d carried her out of the Skull and Bones’s barroom.
—
Hell, he should be worn out by the attention Cass demanded. The girl had no reservations about t
elling him what she wanted. Her face would redden, but the twinkle in her eyes showed she anticipated his compliance. A person would think someone who grew up as she had would never blush. Her parents and their friends, high and drunk, making out and fucking anywhere the mood struck them.
He guessed she blushed because she wasn’t use to having a man willing to oblige her every wish, putting her needs first.
Thorn twisted and flipped the strands of dark-caramel hair between his fingers, occasionally brushing the tips over Cass’s nose and the sprinkle of freckles decorating the bridge and on top her cheeks. Odd to see on someone with dark hair and eyes.
She not only agreed but fussed. “I hate them. They’re so hard to cover up.”
“Don’t. They turn me on.” He leaned over and showered kisses across her face.
“You’re a strange man.” But the smile on her face said she was pleased with his comment.
“Yet you let this strange man suck on your lovely titties and lick your soft, beautiful pussy.”
Even now, he gave in to the urge to pet that magical part of her. His fingers slid down the trimmed, downy mound, and as his middle finger dipped between the folds, her hips rose and she moaned.
How could something so delicate, hot, and moist fascinate him to the point he couldn’t think of anything else? He understood hers was technically the same as most women’s. The true preoccupation had more to do with the woman. As far as he was concerned, she had ruined him for anyone else. He might as well plan to become a monk after the operation came to an end. Of course, he’d have to convert to Catholicism first.
“You’re a dirty, bad boy.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He continued to stroke the hard nub. Slightly larger than any he’d played with before, he liked that it was easy to arouse. She was remarkable.
He dipped down and flicked a taut nipple with his tongue. It stuck out, begging to be sucked on hard. She bit off a scream when he did. Her back arched and her body shook.
Yes. So much to fun to play with.
By the bed, a rattling sound caught his attention.
“Shit!” No way could he go a second in bed without touching her. So he cupped a full breast as he reached for the phone. “It better be good.”
The deep voice said, “We came across some guns we need to get rid of. I need cash tonight.”
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
He knew better than to answer the phone without looking. The prez sounded pissed. Tough shit. “I’ll have a seller for them by the time I come in to work.”
“I want them off my hands tonight.”
He bit the side of his mouth. He wanted to say “Shove them up your ass,” but Stonewall wouldn’t take kindly to the suggestion. Besides, he either used them in a murder or a robbery or both. More evidence to put him away for good.
“Okay. Give me forty-five minutes and I’ll be there.”
“What? Cassidy got you pussy-whipped, boy. Make it thirty or I’ll fine you.”
The last thing he needed was having to dish out money to the asshole.
“Thirty, then.” The connection ended before he got the words out. He was tempted to throw his phone.
She asked, “Stonewall?”
He nodded and leaned over to kiss the breast with red marks. His fingers had squeezed harder than he’d intended. Then his mouth covers hers, enjoying the way she tried to pull him down for more.
“He’s waiting for me.” His voice husky with deep longing to stay between her legs, in her warmth.
“I’ll go with you.”
“No. Stay here and rest. Tomorrow I’ll give you money and drop you off at the outlet stores near the bar, then pick you up before the party.” He tucked the covers around her. “Be sure to keep the doors locked and don’t answer unless it’s Wolf.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she teased.
He slapped her butt and started pulling on clothes. “That’s Big Daddy to you, little girl.” Then he turned serious. “Something has gone down and I don’t know what it is. I don’t want to be worrying about you.”
That last comment caught her attention.
“Be sure to go armed.” Her sweet face was all concerned.
“I never leave home without it.” He stuffed a small pistol into his boot and another one in the holster at his back.
Shrugging on his cut, he shoved hair out of his eyes and looked down where she rested on her side, watching.
“You’re gorgeous.” He’d always thought her pretty, but the last few days showed him differently. The woman was beautiful inside and out.
“No more beer for you.”
He could tell it had pleased her. Had no one ever told her that? A bunch of selfish pricks.
“Sorry. I’d kiss you again, but I wouldn’t stop and then I’d be late. The prez is pissed enough.” His gaze took in the scene. She turned on her side. The sheets flowed over her breasts, one coral arc peeking out.
Yep. He was pussy-whipped. Happily so.
Then he walked out.
In the living room, he reached beneath the sink to a hidden cabinet and pulled out a small store of cash for emergencies. As soon as he stepped outside, he called Harper and told him what had happened with Angel and Stonewall.
Five minutes later, he prayed there weren’t any of Sand County’s finest on his route. He had twenty minutes to make a thirty-minute trip.
Chapter 18
Thorn stepped into Skull and Bones. The usual old rock and roll blared and pounded his ears. Mac’s unreadable face watched him cross the barroom. A few of the Mayhem Brothers waved or nodded his way.
Jabber stood next to the short hallway leading to the bar’s office. He jerked his head toward it. “The Skull’s waiting for you.”
What was going on? But Thorn didn’t ask. He walked past Jabber. An uneasy sensation tickled the back of his neck. He fought the urge to turn around as he sensed Jabber’s gaze following him.
In front of the office door, Bubba rested a shoulder against the wall, but straightened when Thorn came closer. “The prez is waiting for you.” The big man opened the door.
“Yeah, I got that.” He walked in and hesitated when he noticed Mitch sitting in his wheelchair behind the metal desk. Stonewall paced, but on seeing Thorn, settled with a hip propped against a corner of the desk and crossed his arms.
Surprised, but suspecting it would be best to pretend he wasn’t, he asked, “How you doing, Mitch?”
“Good, good. Have a seat. This won’t take long.” Mitch pointed to the single wooden chair facing the desk.
Thorn heard the door close, but the shuffling of feet behind him and strong smell of pot mixed with beer said Bubba had joined the impromptu meeting. Without saying another word, he slumped into the seat and waited to hear what all the mystery was about.
Mitch leaned forward, forearms braced flat on the surface. “I’ve heard a bit of information that you need to explain, and you better talk fast or I’ll have Bubba slit your throat.”
The hair on the back of Thorn’s neck stood up as Bubba’s heat soaked into his back. Obviously, Mitch told him of the rumors about a snitch being in the Brothers of Mayhem. Why would it be important to him? Mitch had always made Cass believe he hated the MC. Sure didn’t explain why he was there with Stonewall nearby, and the prez grinning like a maniac.
Thorn started gauging the best escape route and how to take down two able-bodied men. Unless Mitch pulled a gun, he wouldn’t be much of a threat.
With a push on the armrest’s joystick, Mitch moved away from the desk, keeping his eyes on Thorn. In the older man’s lap was a sawed-off shotgun.
Well, hell.
Thorn’s heart was beating so hard and fast he was certain that if he looked down, he’d see his shirt pulsating over his chest. Time for him to regain control. The worst thing he could do was look or act guilty.
Lifting the shotgun, Mitch rested it on the crook of the opposite elbow and pointed it at Thorn.
“What information?” Keeping his face
bland, revealing only a mild bit of interest, he waited for the accusation of being an undercover cop or a CI, followed quickly by the firing of the weapon.
“That you’re fucking my foster daughter. You better start planning to marry her.” With Mitch’s eat-shit-and-die glare drilling into him, it took a moment before Thorn understood what he’d said.
“This is about Cass?” He looked from Mitch to Stonewall. The prez’s smirk showed how much he enjoyed Thorn’s predicament.
“I promised Easy that I would look after his kids.” Mitch eyed Thorn a little longer and then said, “What else would it be?”
“How was I to guess? You know, as everyone around here does, there were circumstances involved that forced me and Cassidy to hook up.” His gaze remained on Mitch. Stonewall squirmed on the desk’s corner.
Mitch glanced over to Stonewall. “Do you know anything about this?”
“I just pushed along destiny, you could say.” Stonewall’s smirk was back in place.
“Oh, you’re a regular fucking cupid. Don’t I know you’ve been wanting Cassidy since she was thirteen years old. Shit, probably before then, if not for Easy and the possibility he’d kill your ass. What had you hoped to accomplish? That her being fucked by a Mayhem Brother, she’d be willing to do the Skull?”
Stonewall said, “If that was the case, I could have when she was—”
Mitch turned back to Thorn, ignoring whatever the other man was about to say. “So what’s it going to be?”
Taking a chance, Thorn raised his hands. “Hey, I’m not ready for marriage.” How in the hell would he explain that to Harper? And more important, he’d never do that to Cass. She deserved a man who was there for her. One that didn’t lie—like at that moment. “Ask her. She’s having fun. She isn’t in it for the long haul, me being a Brother and all.”
The two older men stared hard and then Mitch burst out laughing, while Stonewall’s calculating smile warned Thorn to watch the man around Cassidy.
“Did you see his face? He looked as if he couldn’t decide which was worse, death or marriage. I understand. You end up in hell no matter which way you go.” Mitch roared even louder and stood up.
“What the fuck?” Thorn stood too, but in shock, feeling danger spike even higher than when the shotgun was pointed his way.
Hidden Heat (Brothers of Mayhem #1) Page 16
