Cuffed: Pharaohs MC

by Brook Wilder

  “There was some kind of sheet, I think? Something like that. Maybe a tapestry hanging on the wall,” she said.

  “Any colors?” he asked. “Designs?”

  “All I can remember is red and black,” she said. “Any time I tried to look around they basically knocked me out and kept telling me I was in the Pharaoh’s bar.”

  “Well since our colors are blue and gold that doesn’t make much sense,” he says. “I’ll tell you this much, the Caracals use red and black.”

  The girl nodded, swallowing. She seemed to have already come to terms with the truth that it was the Caracals who had taken her. But proving it through her own recall proved, at least, that there were more memories there to be discovered, more information. They could keep going.

  “Any sounds?” Hanna asked. “Words? Phrases? Music that might have been played?”

  “Lots of sounds from upstairs,” she said. “It was rowdy. Definitely a bar. They played a lot of classic rock.”

  “That sounds like the Caracals bar to you?” Roarke asked, turning to Hanna.

  She was about to ask him what the hell he meant when she recalled her own cover story. Right. She should know this. “Yes. Sounds about right.” It was a weak response but it was better than nothing. She turned the attention back to Annie.

  “Did anyone talk to you while you were there?” Hanna asked.

  “Yeah, it was always the same guy,” she said. “He was tall, kind of skinny, but he had a scary face and never smiled. He was always the one bringing us water and some food when they felt like giving it to us. He wasn’t in charge though.”

  “Who was?”

  “Some lady. She only came down a couple times, but every time all the guys guarding us went to like attention or something. It was like the military and she was the captain,” she said.

  “Isabelle,” Hanna breathed out. “It has to be.”

  Roarke didn’t respond and she knew that meant he agreed, painful as it probably was to admit. Isabelle was not only not kidnapped, she was the kidnapper. She was keeping these girls in some basement of a bar. Since the El Campo location got shut down, they had no idea where the Caracals new bar was. And it might not even be the final place where these girls ended up getting sent to while awaiting their fate. This Annie girl was an exception, a decoy. Something Isabelle sent to mess with Roarke’s mind.

  She turned to look at him and saw on his face that he reached the same conclusions. She wanted to put a hand on his arm and comfort him but Annie was watching and she wasn’t sure what she would do if she felt his naked skin touch her own.

  “Thank you, Annie,” Hanna said. “We’ll let you rest up. You can head out in the morning. Take whatever you need.”

  “Thank you,” she mumbled. “For believing me.” Hanna nodded.

  On the way she told Roarke to get someone to watch the room to make sure Rick didn’t try to pull anything and he grunted in agreement, putting Mouse on duty. He then walked out into the alley and she followed him without a word. He seemed to have expected it because he held the door open behind him and she walked through.

  As soon as it closed, she was against the wall and his hands were cupping her jaw as his lips hit hers.

  She responded almost instantly. Her fingers went to bury themselves in his hair and pull him as close as their bodies would allow. Her lips moved against his slightly chapped ones and she wasted no time opening her mouth and letting his tongue in to explore the softness within. She let out several moans and her hips seemed to move on their own as she felt something pressing right into her crotch and knew, on instinct, what it was.

  She ground herself against his erection beneath his pants and it was his turn to moan as he pushed back. His lips moved to her neck and worked on sucking visible bruises into the soft skin and worshipping her pulse point.

  “Interrogation does it for you?” she asked breathlessly, continuing to move against him.

  “You do it for me,” he growled. “I’m sick of not taking what I want.”

  “Then by all means,” she said, pulling him back up to meet his lips in another thrashing kiss.

  They continued this way for a while until he finally pulled back and pressed his forehead against hers to catch his breath. To replace her hips, she reached down and grabbed at him, running her hand roughing over the bulge in his pants and he groaned some more, his hips bucking towards her before he grabbed her wrist to stop her.

  “I’m not coming in an alley from an over-the-pants hand job, like a teenager,” he said.

  “Then take me to where I can make you come.”

  He pulled at her wrist. His apartment was too far away. They both knew that. But he turned sharply and took her into an apartment building she didn’t recognize and up the stairs. He pulled out keys and shoved them into the door of a place labeled 4B.

  “And this is?” she asked when they entered the apartment, sparse of furniture except for a mattress shoved into a corner.

  “A place we rent out for storage. It’ll do though.”

  He didn’t say anything else as he pushed her until she fell back on the bed and he landed with his knees on either side of her. Now he really set to work in grinding himself down and against her, no longer out in the open. This angle was so much better as she felt him hit that sensitive bundle of nerves waiting between her legs and she moaned loudly without meaning to.

  He stopped his movements and smirked. His hand replaced his cock as he began to rub at her through her pants, feeling around for the place that made her toes curl. When he found it, her hips jerked and he chuckled in her ear. He flipped open the button of her pants and the zipper and slid his hand inside to feel dampness on her underwear.

  “Wet already?” he whispered.

  She’d been wet for him for weeks but she wasn’t about to let him know that.

  “Don’t get too excited,” she said, her sarcasm ruined by her breathless voice.

  “Too late,” he said, pressing himself into her leg to remind her of the hardness there.

  He slipped his fingers inside the band of her underwear. She felt the roughness of his fingers and fought down another embarrassing noise as he worked quickly over her clit. His hand moved with more grace than she’d ever seen him use in any other part of life so far and her hips began to move with him.

  She couldn’t let him have all the power here, though.

  Her hands opened his own pants and pushed down until his tented boxers were free to her touch and she grabbed at him, rubbing him roughly over the fabric,. She watched his hips bounce until it wasn’t enough and the boxers were pushed down too and she got her first sight of him. He was big. She hoped he would be, and there he was. Her hand wrapped around him and began to pump in the practiced fashion she knew while his fingers picked up the pace on her.

  Without a word, his hands moved again and he leaned back and out of her touch. This time he pulled away her pants and underwear and threw them off to the side somewhere. He settled down between her legs and just as she realized what was about to happen she felt his tongue replacing his hand and could cry in happiness. He was skilled there, his tongue moving fluidly, hitting her where she needed to before moving away to give her just enough of a tease.

  “More,” she huffed out on the third time he’d licked at her clit to bring her just to the edge and then left to bite at her thigh.

  “Say the magic word,” he whispered against her and she shuddered at the vibrations it created.

  “Fucking do it.”

  He laughed and she nearly came but he obeyed, keeping his tongue where she needed it most until everything behind her stomach exploded and she went rigid, holding his head in place as she rocked against it to get everything out of her orgasm that she could. He let her shamelessly hump his face until she was done.

  “My turn,” he whispered, moving up to her face and kissing her, giving her a taste of herself.

  She knew what he wanted and pushed him back to lie down. She crawled on top o
f him. She’d give him what he wanted, but she refused to get on her knees for him. He didn’t seem to mind at all as she straddled his legs and bent down to put him in her mouth.

  She wasn’t as skilled in this department as he probably hoped, but she also knew guys would lose their mind for even the most basic blow job. She’d learned that much in high school when she gave her first one and, mediocre as it was, it had Tony Carass practically screaming as he jizzed in his bed. This seemed no different as Roarke’s hips began to buck, his hand came into her hair, and he was mumbling curses. She let it go on for a while before she knew he was getting to close and she put a stop to it. She wasn’t going to wait another fifteen minutes for him to rev up again.

  She leaned forward and dragged herself over his erection and his eyes rolled back in his head. Her naked crotch rocked in his lap as she removed her shirt and bra, giving him a sight at everything. He shot up and took a nipple in his mouth almost instantly, pulling at the other with his hand. The other hand was on her hip, encouraging the rocking movements of her hips. They continued like this for a while before Roarke pushed back again.

  “If we don’t get this show on the road I might come too early,” he whispered in her ear.

  She stuck her hands under his shirt, letting her nails scratch him as she did so, and pushed the shirt up and over his head. She once again pushed him to lay back. She grabbed a hold of him, slick and covered with evidence of her grinding. At least they wouldn't’ need lube. She held him there as she lowered herself down, watching his eyes widen when he disappeared inside her.

  She was biting her lip and fighting moans as she adjusted to his size. He placed his hands on her hips and waited for her to get comfortable, to find the exactly place she wanted the tip of him to hit. And when it happened, she bucked so hard that even he moaned. Then she started bouncing, up and down, up and down, aiming him to hit her there again and again, letting out moans that got higher and higher in pitch. His hips worked underneath her as well, adding in her quest to get as much out of this as she could.

  They didn’t come together. It wasn’t some fairy tale fantasy story made up by an overly romantic writer. He blew his load quickly with a long, loud moan and pulled out of her. But he wasn’t about to let his business go unfinished as moved her farther up his body until she was directly over his face. He brought her down until his mouth met her again and he licked and sucked until she was coming a second time, gripping at any purchase she could find on the wall.

  They didn’t say a word after as they both laid there, on their backs, sweaty and falling into an exhausted sleep.

  Chapter 12

  Hanna woke up before he did and she was grateful for that as she sat up and carefully pulled herself out of the bed, stark naked in the early morning. She padded across the tile floor to look out the window. The sun was only just now coming up between the buildings and cutting a solid shape of gold over the horizon. Roarke wouldn’t be up for a few hours at least. On a day when he got a normal amount of sleep he slept until noon, at least.

  She slid her clothes back on, working to be as quiet as she possibly could. She needed to get ahold of James. She’d been relaxed in her job and she learned more than she’d been telling him and now was the time to stop holding out on all that information. She needed to find a way to get him this information. It was early; she could slip out quietly and get down to the station. But there was a high risk of Roarke waking up to pee, if nothing else, and noticing her and all her clothes gone. The phone she used to make safe calls to the station was also back at her apartment.

  The dangers of becoming emotionally and physically attached to him were starting to rear in her head. It made her careless and now James needed to know what was going on, what they’d learned. He might be able to at least give them an idea of where this bar was or even any new information on other girls gone missing. She’d be playing blind if she didn’t somehow get this intel to him.

  But she’d risk losing everything she gained if she slipped now and alerted Roarke. Not to mention, though she hated to admit it, she didn’t want to lose his trust, not now. Not after the night they had. She’d finally broken and got what she wanted and she wasn’t willing to destroy all of that.

  It was a bad situation. She’d made several careless mistakes and now they were all coming to bite her right in the ass and she had no idea which one to handle first.

  She shouldn’t be selfish. The missing girls were the most important priority, they deserved just and they needed to be found and returned safely to her families. She was risking them if she wanted to preserve her relationship with Roarke over getting all the information out to the right sources.

  “Fuck,” she whispered as she began to pace.

  It was so cliche. It would come after a night of great sex that she realized all the mistakes she made and the places she went wrong so far. Now she was trapped in this room with only until Roarke woke up to come up with a plan to get everything they learned to the police station. There had to be a way to do this where everyone could win. She knew that was the most wishful thinking in history but it couldn’t be completely wrong.

  “You’ll wake up the whole building if you keep that up,” Roarke said in a gravely, early morning voice, half distorted by his pillow.

  Her time was dwindling faster than she thought.

  “Sorry, go back to sleep,” she said, hoping he obeyed. Of course he didn’t.

  He stood up and began to stretch and she thanked whatever gods were out there that he didn’t have morning wood that she would need to fight the temptation to relieve him of. Small miracles were really something sometimes.

  Seeing him there, calmly standing in front of her, entirely naked brought into perspective the other big issue as well: what the hell did they do now?

  They’d had uncontrolled, passionate, completely amazing sex only hours ago and fell asleep next to each other stark naked. Now there was no shame between them as he went to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water, every inch of him on display in the light coming through the window.

  They had to deal with this too and she could tell from the way he was avoiding looking at her, and all the words he wasn’t saying that he was having the same mental dilemma. Not to mention the fact that he was up hours before he ever normally was.

  “I think we should get this information to the police,” she blurted out. She was really zero for two in the decision department recently.

  “What?”

  “Not outright, obviously. But we can find ways to tip them off, lead them in the right direction,” she said.

  “Why would we want to do that?” he asked. “This is a gang affair. We bring the police in and it’s only going to cause a lot more problems for everyone.”

  “They have resources we don’t,” she said and she knew she was treading a dangerous line now.

  “Yeah and they also have arrest warrants. We’ve done okay so far, we don’t need to bring the police into this,” he said.

  “If the police start lighting a fire under Isabelle it might make her careless, though,” she said. “It’ll be easier to get her if she’s out in the open with no defenses. It’s like going at her from multiple directions, cornering her.”

  She was losing her cool and she knew it was showing. She really couldn’t be blamed though. There was a lot going through her head that she was having trouble processing completely and every second Roarke didn’t cover himself up was wearing down on her ability to formulate sentences correctly.

  “Why don’t you take a breather,” he said. “We’ll get some coffee, head down to the bar, and talk it out. I’m not making decisions without everyone else involved.”

  Getting coffee sounded a little too much like the cliché morning-after routine, but she was happy to be in the company of people besides Roarke right now as she tried to figure what she was going to do with everything swirling around inside her head.

  ***

  He’d had a restless sleep, highl
y aware of how close she was, sleeping next to him, touching him. He’d had strange dreams and couldn’t shake the feeling of anxiety. He’d done exactly what he had not intended to do, what he’d been actively fighting against. He didn’t really regret it, and that was the biggest problem he was facing. He’d love every second of it and would gladly do it again in a heartbeat.

  But that didn’t make the consequences go away.

  He heard her wake up. She was a morning person if there ever was one. She rose with the sun, it seemed. He tried to go back to sleep, or just pretend long enough for it to be true. But she started pacing around the floor and it was too much to ignore and he was up, tired, and far earlier than he ever woke up in his life.