by Cat Mason
“What’s that mean?” I ask, though I think part of me already knows.
“Means he’s been dealt with. The details aren’t important,” he answers. “Didn’t give me much to go on. Stupid bastard.” Propping his shoulder against the wall, he takes a pull from the bottle. “Said the guy who hired him used the name Reed.”
I deflate the moment my brother’s name leaves his lips. “Reed?” Sitting back down, I shake my head in disbelief as unwanted tears sting my eyes.
Colt nods again. “The driver was paid to watch you for months. Then somethin’ happened. The guy runnin’ the show snapped, escalated his end game.”
“And Donnie thinks it was Daniel,” I add, piecing things together.
“Torch’s head is too twisted up to work that out,” he admits, pushing off the wall. Moving toward me, he places his bottle down on the nightstand before squatting down in front of me. My eyes drop to his hands as they cover my thighs. “But whether Hammon is behind what happened to you or not, he needs to be dealt with.”
My eyes shoot up to meet his, the worry I felt earlier beginning to churn in the pit of my stomach harder than before. “Dealt with like the driver?” I ask, narrowing my brows judgmentally. “You can’t ride around town, pull a gun, and make everyone disappear that you don’t get along with, Colt. If that were true, the population would be obliterated the moment any woman lost her shit.”
“I’m not a fan of sendin’ messages with bullets, Henley.” Pushing to his feet, he sits on the edge of the mattress before reaching for his beer. “I prefer a more hands-on delivery,” he adds with a wink.
“Oh please,” I fire back, not balking. “You can say whatever you want. Gun or not, the end result is the same.”
“You still in love with him?” Colt’s words make him sound almost vulnerable. Something I wouldn’t expect coming from him in a million years.
“No.” My reply is immediate. “What he and I had was never love. It was intense, complicated, toxic, and volatile.”
“He hit you?” he asks, the vulnerability gone, replaced with a hint of rage sparking behind his eyes.
“I’m small, Colt. Not weak.” Huffing out a laugh, I shake my head. “I told you the night we met, I was raised with three very overprotective brothers who taught me well. Daniel was told flat out if he ever felt the need to hit me, he better kill me with that first swing; then he’d better run like hell from the Wolfe pack.”
“Good,” he breathes, though he doesn’t relax any.
“Besides, Daniel didn’t need to use his fists to control me. His words and the condescending tone in his voice…” My voice trails off. Closing my eyes, I feel like the room is closing in on me. The memories I have worked to put behind me now flashing in my head like a movie. All the shit that I took because I was fighting for the wrong thing. His coldness, the venom he spewed when he spoke, the gnawing in my gut that I’d be so much better off alone, all making its way front and center. “Sorry.” Pressing a hand to my chest, I swallow around the lump in my throat, forcing myself to get a handle on my emotions.
Taking the bottle from my fingers, Colt’s hand slips into mine. My eyes fly open when he tugs me to my feet. Pulling me closer, he tenderly brushes the hair away from my face, catching a stray tear with his thumb. “I get it,” he says, his voice low. The three words wrap around my heart. Soft. Sweet. Yet another layer of Colt that I am realizing I like way too much.
Nodding, I clear my throat. “Watching Reed battle his demons made me realize I had to get out. I didn’t realize the power Daniel had over me or the toll it was taking. Daniel Hammon is a man that would break a wing on a baby bird just to keep it from flying from his hands. The morning my little brother lost that fight was the day mine began.”
Fourteen
Colt
Henley handles the mess Torch has gotten himself in better than I expected. I seem to underestimate her strength. Rarely does someone surprise me, but the beautiful blonde, currently in my arms, has a way of doing it at every turn.
“You could’ve just asked me about this stuff, you know; or at least told me Jinks has been looking into Daniel.” The rawness in her voice as she speaks fucking shreds me. “I don’t like knowing you went behind my back. My past is private; it’s mine to share with who I choose.” She sighs. “You took that from me. Exposed all that shit to your club without so much as asking me first.”
“You’re right. I fucked up,” I admit, even if I know without a doubt I’d do it again if it meant keeping her safe. “I’ve got Jinks keepin’ tabs on Hammon. That doesn’t stop. We need eyes on him, especially now.”
“Why?” she asks, though the look on her face says she isn’t sure if she really wants me to answer. “What are you gonna do?” The oversized collar of her shirt slides off her shoulder, exposing her soft porcelain skin and the swell of one of her tits. It’s hard to concentrate on anything other than how much I want to rip off that shirt and bury my face between them while my cock is buried deep.
Forcing myself to find her eyes, I run my thumb along her collarbone. “Should I ask how you managed to get into Jinks’s system?”
She smiles, her stormy eyes now calm. Resting her hands on my shoulders, she leans in and brushes her nose along mine. “The details aren’t important,” she breathes, throwing my words back at me.
Wrapping my arms around her, I pull her body flush to mine, enjoying the way she molds against me. “Come with me,” I whisper against her lips.
After grabbing myself some snacks for the road, Henley and I head upstairs. “No earthquake this time?” Schrader taunts, hooking an arm around Shy’s waist before snagging the beer from her hand. “Losin’ your touch?”
“Damn quick, too,” Jace chimes in, biting back a laugh.
Not bothering to respond to either man, I look to Roanne. “Stone still in with Rachelle?”
She nods. “Doc and Jinks, too.”
“Let him know I’m headin’ out.” Tightening my grip on Henley, I head for the door.
The moment we step into the garage, Henley’s face brightens. “Wow.” Slipping from my arm, she moves toward my car. “This is incredible,” she says, the tips of her fingers running along the passenger side quarter panel.
“Thanks. Took a lot of work to get her like this.”
Turning, she faces me, a look of shock and awe on her face. “You did this?” She shakes her head. “This is yours?”
“Hell yeah, it’s mine,” I chuckle. Walking over, I snag the keys from the hook. “Don’t act so shocked. Bike’s in impound. This is the next best thing.”
Sliding behind the wheel, I fire up the engine. “Get in,” I tell her, a slow smile spreading across my face. “Let’s get fuckin’ lost.”
Henley
The heat of the day has faded, a cool breeze blowing through the windows as Colt tears through the valley, heading towards Thurmond Lake. I am engrossed by watching him drive. His body reacts to each and every mile of road, his face relaxing as the minutes pass. The muscles in his arms, flex with every curve and bend in the road. The thick veins wrapping around his forearms become more prominent, the tighter he grips the wheel. I can’t help staring openly, watching the way his body moves in-tune with the car.
“Smell the rain?” he asks, looking over at me as he downshifts to take a deep curve in the road.
“Yeah,” I admit, catching the storm clouds rising over the ridgeline. “Should we head back?”
Looking over at me, Colt smiles wickedly, his eyes darkening in that intensely sinister way that makes my body ache for him. “Not a chance, woman.” Slamming on the gas, he takes a hard right onto a freshly graveled road. “Vic and Huck brought me out here as a kid. Taught me to drive, shoot, blow shit up. Now, I use it to blow off steam.” Shifting gears, he shrugs. “And tire tread.”
The sky opens up, rain falling heavy all around us. Rolling up the window, Colt’s smile widens. “Ready, Hotness?” he asks, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.
Colt doesn’t say a word. Instead, he slams the gas to the floor. The engine roars loudly, overtaking the sound of the rain pounding off the windshield. My adrenaline spikes, my heart hammering as the speedometer climbs. When the tires hit the concrete of the old airport runway, Colt pulls the emergency brake and yanks the steering wheel hard to the right.
The entire back end fishtails, the car spinning in furious circles. “Colt!” My body slams into the door with the force. “Oh my God!” Pushing back against the seat, I slam my eyes shut. My breath lodges in my chest, stomach dropping into my toes.
“You good, babe?” Colt asks, squeezing my thigh.
My eyes fly open. “Yeah,” I reply, tightening my seatbelt. “Pretty sure I left my heart back there somewhere, but we can get it later. No biggie,” I huff, trying to catch my breath.
Colt laughs, yanking on the shifter, he heads full throttle down the length of the runway. The moment of insanity the man beside me is having, gives him a momentary look of total bliss. He seems to be completely carefree, even if I believe he may be batshit crazy.
Though I will admit, carefree, crazy as hell Colt is no less sexy. If anything, watching him like this is like a jolt straight to my clit. Colt running on excitement and an adrenaline rush is possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Coming up fast on an old tanker truck, he swerves around it, the entire car gliding across the wet concrete almost effortlessly.
It quickly becomes a game for him. The dodging of old vehicles and debris only upping the level of his excitement. The usually quiet, all too serious Colt, exposing yet another layer of himself that I am willing to bet few have ever seen.
His laugh is contagious. The sound almost making things feel okay for the first time since I was hurt. I find myself laughing with him as time passes. Our eyes catch every few moments, tension crackling between us, building inside the car at an alarming rate.
Engine revving again, we race forward down the runway, toward some old junked out hangars. Driving straight through the doors, Colt yanks the e-brake again. The tires screech beneath us as we go into another set of donuts before slamming to a halt in the hangar doorway.
Shutting off the engine, Colt glances my way. Lips parting, he swipes his bottom lip with his tongue, his eyes raking over me hungrily. “Get that seatbelt off and get on my dick,” he grunts, shoving the seat back as far as it will go, before fumbling with his belt buckle.
I don’t hesitate. Unbuckling, I kick off my shoes before getting rid of my jeans. Snaking an arm around my waist, Colt pulls me across the center console, into his lap. Straddling his thick thighs, I take his face in my hands, and slam my mouth to his.
Our tongues tangle, both battling for control. The push and pull, the fight I taste on his lips is electric. I want to savor it. Capture it. And at the same time, I want to fall into it and be swept away by the churning tide he unleashes on me in moments like these.
He wrecks me so easily.
Without even trying.
Hands dropping to my hips, Colt thrusts upward, grinding his cock against where I so desperately need it. I moan, my body moving against his. “You wet for me?” he asks, nibbling my lips.
“Yes,” I reply breathlessly.
“You need me, baby?” he growls against my lips before my panties are ripped from my body like paper.
“Yes,” I moan, aching for him to touch me.
Ripping my shirt over my head, he tosses it away, his eyes dropping to the silver lace bra that used to have a set of matching panties. The blue blazes. Tugging the cups down with his fingers, his hands slide up my back as he leans in and wraps his lips around my nipple. “Ah!” I moan, my hands flying into his hair. Needing more, I arch my back, loving the way his mouth feels on me.
His fingers flex, digging into my skin. I moan, rocking my hips against his, needing the friction. “Good.” Reaching between us, he frees his cock, teasing my clit with the head before releasing himself to take my hand. “Now, fuck your man.” Wrapping my fingers around the base of his length, he moves to my other nipple.
Heat spreads through my body at his words. Tightening my grip, I stroke him slowly. He groans, the heat of his breath rushing over my skin, igniting a wildfire that only he can put out. I snap.
“Fuck!” I cry out, slamming myself down on his cock.
Colt’s entire body jerks. Ripping his mouth from my body, he falls back against the seat, his hands going to my hips. “Goddamn, babe,” he grunts, his eyes slamming shut. “We’re gonna do this slow.”
“I don’t think so, Beefcake.” Flattening my palms on his chest, I swivel my hips. “It’s my turn to drive.”
His grip doesn’t loosen, but he doesn’t stop me when I move again. His mouth goes slack, eyes opening to watch me as I rise up on my knees, almost losing him before slamming myself back down hard. I see the control begin to crack in his eyes. Wanting to shatter it, I fist my hands in his shirt and ride him hard.
“You’re tryin’ to break me,” he grunts, palming my ass as I work myself on his cock. “Aren’t you, baby?”
“What if I am?”
Grabbing a fistful of my hair, Colt pulls me down to him. Our mouths so close I can almost taste him. He bucks his hips in silent challenge. I whimper, the ache for release so strong it hurts. His fingers slide down to grip the back of my neck, hunger blazing in his eyes. “Then you better be prepared for what comes with unleashin’ that, Henley.” he warns, urging me with his other hand to start moving my hips again. He thrusts into me hard, my eyes nearly roll back in my head.
“That’s what I want,” I pant. “Give me everything.”
And he does. Each surge of his cock sends a jolt through my entire body, rattling me to my core. “That’s it,” he breathes, his hands roaming over my skin. “Come for me, baby.”
My body spasms, free-falling into my orgasm. I collapse onto his chest, my cries of pleasure muffled into his shirt. Colt doesn’t slow or even miss a beat. His body is wound so tightly beneath mine it feels like he may snap like a rubber band. And I want him to. Using what little ability I have while being fucked senseless, I slide my hands into his hair. Taking his mouth with mine, I tease him with my tongue while grinding my hips to meet each of his thrusts.
“Fuck,” he grounds out, ripping his mouth from mine when his body stills.
We lie there in the seat together for a long time, neither of us speaking. With my body pressed tightly to his, we watch the rain through the window. Colt’s fingers stroke up and down my back, while I feel his heart beat beneath my fingers. It isn’t until we are dressed and heading back to the clubhouse that I realize how deep I’ve gotten myself with this man.
A man I just had sex with in a parked car without a condom.
In the time I’ve known him, Colt has stripped away all of my defenses. And currently, whether I’m ready for it or not, he’s making me fall in love.
I’ve never felt more out of control in my life.
Fifteen
Colt
Henley has been different since we got back from our drive. My plan to get both our heads around this shit for a while backfired. Now she seems more occupied with her thoughts than before we left. My girl is quiet. Distant. Something you never see from Henley, and it doesn’t take long for me to realize I don’t fucking like it.
I’d rather she went balls to the wall crazy instead of this shit.
As much as I want to lock her in my room and figure out what is going on in that beautiful head of hers, there isn’t time for that. The moment we walked into the clubhouse, the table was waiting. A plan proposed, and a vote that was unanimous. A vote that was little more than a formality given the circumstances. While Rachelle works every angle she can to be ready for Torch’s bail hearing, Huck, Stone, Doc, and I head out in the van to handle some unfinished business.
Parking at the edge of the woods behind Hammon’s three story home, the four of us climb out
to case the place before we make our move. Minus the sound of a yapping dog, it is quiet. The gates have been shut for the night, the only light on is coming from his office.
“Sweet girl, Henley,” Huck says, tucking his flask into his shirt pocket.
“Yeah.”
“She makes you happy,” he continues. “Less wired.”
“Sure that ain’t the sex?” Doc laughs, clapping me on the back.
“Probably part of it,” he chuckles. “The rest is all her.”
“How many inside?” Doc asks, focusing on the house again.
“Jinks said Hammon doesn’t employ live-in staff for the property,” Stone replies, his eyes scanning the yard. “His piece of ass left twenty minutes ago.”
“Just Hammon in there,” I mutter, my fists balling tightly at my sides. “And his bodyguard.”
Pulling his gun, Stone turns to Doc, his eyes turning cold. “Now.”
Pulling out his phone, Doc makes the call to Jinks. “Do it.”
Huck freezes. “You hear that?” Turning his back to us, he studies the road.
“Hear what, old man?” I ask, shaking my head. “Whiskey singin’ you love songs?”
“Gravel crunchin’,” he says, pulling his gun from his cut.
Coming up behind him, I scan the road. I don’t hear the gravel crunching Huck did, but I don’t miss the bone chilling sound of whistling. “Next time you’ll think twice about where you go startin’ fires, Morrison.”
“What the fuck?” Huck blurts, glancing at me. My blood runs cold.
Headlights flash, then gunfire. “Fuck!” Huck shouts, shoving me into the tree in front of us before going to the ground. “Get down!”
Yanking the gun from my waistband, I use the tree for cover and return fire. “Shoot the bastard!” a man yells, as another round of shots is fired at us. Two hit the tree, just inches from me. “Eye for an eye, motherfucker!” the same voice shouts, sounding farther away.
