by A. J. Macey
“Mhm,” he hummed. His distracted tone had me looking over at him. His eyes were trailing slowly down my body despite being clothed in a frumpy jumpsuit.
Standing up fully, I cocked a brow at him. If he wanted to play that game, I’d more than willingly be a participant. I was glad I had left the hat on the bar and that the air conditioning had cooled my skin as I reached up to the zipper at the the neck of the scratchy navy material.
Keeping eye contact with Brooks, I sensually unzipped the jumpsuit, leaving me in my tank and a portion of my skin-tight shorts. The breeze in the office had my nipples stiffening against my top. No bra sat between my breasts and the white jersey material allowing the spider webs I had tattooed around my nipples to shadow through the shirt. Brooks’ eyes zeroed in on the points, the bulge in his jeans growing larger the longer he stared. Bending over, I dragged the material down my legs, revealing my full leg sleeves and the shorts that barely covered my ass.
After shucking the jumpsuit, I took the few steps to stand in front of Brooks who was sitting in one of the chairs. I ran my fingers through his coarse, yet soft, golden blond hair, gripping tightly at the back of his head. His groan rumbled deep within his chest as I straddled him, the rough material of his jeans rubbing salaciously against my already dripping core.
“What were you saying about a test drive, Brooks?” I whispered against his ear as I ground against him. Fire and need coursed through my body as I felt him grinding against me. Calloused hands landed on my thighs skimming up until they gripped my ass tightly. “Don’t mind if I do,” I murmured before capturing his lips with mine. He moved with matching fervor. His hands slid down to my thighs before moving back to my ass; this time he dipped fingers under the thin spandex fabric to knead the flesh underneath.
I continued to grind against him, using his impressive erection to rub my clit. The sharp pulses of lightning that shot through me at the feeling had me shivering in his muscled arms. Releasing his hair, I tugged my tank over my head. One hand left my ass to cup my right breast, his beard rough against my flushed chest as he sucked on my nipple. The graze of his teeth had me moaning breathlessly, my hair brushing against my tattooed skin as my head fell back.
Brooks moved suddenly, scooping me up in his tanned arms and depositing me on the cold metal of the desktop. Yanking on my shorts, I propped myself up so he could pull them down my legs where he tossed them over to the corner of the room. Unbuttoning his jeans and belt, he shoved them down his hips before producing a condom from the top drawer of the desk. I snatched it away from him and after quickly opening it, rolled it down his thick cock. Brooks clutched the back of my neck and held me still with his other hand on my thigh. It took several rocking thrusts before he was seated fully inside me. I was panting with pent up desire by the time he started to move.
“You’re so wet for me, baby.” He tangled his hand in my hair, angling my face up. “Better make this one quick, don’t want to have Warden come in guns blazing because I’m fucking you and he isn’t.” I moaned as he started moving in forceful drives.
“Let him see.” I fisted his shirt tightly within my grasp. “Maybe he’ll fucking stop being such a possessive asshole.”
“You really are a fiery one, ain’t ‘cha?” Brooks’ normally smooth voice was rough as he kissed me hard, his tongue tangling with mine. The grip on my hair was tight, holding my head steady and angled up to him. He pulled back, hand tightening on my thigh as he thrust harder. Faster. Wrenching more and more fervid cries from me.
Fuck, so good.
His grey-blue eyes darkened into two stormy irises, intensely focused on my breasts as they bounced with each thrust. A growl rumbled deep within his chest, his muscles tensing as he fought for control. Struggled against his urge to dominate me. Own me.
I was breathless. My release loomed ahead and I was going for it, knowing I’d be crashing into that blissful pool at full speed.
“Fuck.” I could barely get the word out before stars flooded my eyes as I clamped down around Brooks. He continued his merciless pace, making the desk groan under our movements until he reached his own climax. Our heaving breaths filled the air, neither of us moving for a long moment as we stilled our racing hearts and unsteady breathing. He crushed his lips to me before slowly sliding out.
“Don’t worry, baby,” Brooks whispered against my lips. “Next time, I’ll show you just how long an Ace can ride.” I nipped his bottom lip sharply, resulting in him tugging my hair pulling my head away from him. “Naughty, Cat.” His smile was sinful and domineering at the same time, his eyes glowing in triumph.
“I need to get going.” I shoved him back, a matching smile curling my lips at his stumbling. He might be the president, but I’m not someone who can be ruled. I dressed quickly as he removed the condom and situated himself inside his jeans. Pulling the itchy material up over my legs, I decided to leave the top of the jumpsuit undone tying the arms around my hips.
“You’re a walking temptation there, baby, with those tats on display,” Brooks’ warned, his head tilting toward my chest where the circular webs were shadows against the material. I cocked a brow at him.
“I dare anyone to fuck with me.” I collected the blueprints from the ground as they had been shoved off in our quickie, before stepping up to him. He was tall, requiring me to look up at his ruggedly sexy face. “I will gladly fuck someone up if they try to start shit. I’m not someone to be used or abused without my permission.” His eyes sparkled at my statement, his hand tangling in my hair once more as he kissed me without abandon.
“You’re an Ace, baby, through and through.” Despite not giving a shit about their club, my chest felt all tingly at his words. The fuck is that shit? I shoved the feeling away, locking it away with every other soft or fuzzy feeling I’d ever felt, focusing on the job ahead.
“I’m out of your little leather-wearing boy band’s league, Boss,” I mocked his road name with a cocked brow and smirk as I walked away from him. He hummed a skeptical response before opening the door for me; a small curl curved his lips up as I stepped out of the room.
“Whatever you say, Cat.” The door shut in my face after he taunted my thief name.
Prick. I huffed a laugh heading back down towards the bar area ready to get the fuck off compound grounds.
Stone
We had rescheduled a new shipment pick up with our contact, making sure to change the normal date, location, and time. Nate and I had also decided that he and the other officers would do the ride, keeping the information between the four of us. Rubbing my hand over the short stubble on my scalp, I left the warehouse and headed toward the clubhouse. I was lost in thought when I ran into Kiera, literally. The blueprint rolls she had wrapped in her arms sprawled out on the dusty cement. She groaned to herself before kneeling down to pick up the rolls. I was distracted by her tatted skin when she called me out.
“You know you could fucking get down here and help me, Stone,” she snapped, her mossy eyes filled with irritation as she looked up at me.
I could get used to her on her knees in front of me, I thought, it’d put her in her place that way.
“Fuck you very much, I don’t kneel to anyone and certainly not to you. My place is wherever the fuck I say it is,” she ground out, the irritation growing to rage.
Shit, I must have said that out loud.
“Not my fault you’re digging yourself a deeper grave every time you open your mouth,” I bit out, refusing to help her. My arms crossed as I glared down at her.
“Get in line,” she huffed standing up, the rolls secured under her arm. “You’re not the only one who wants to put a bullet in my skull, and you certainly won’t be the last.”
“Why does that not surprise me?” I snapped. My eyes finally realized her tits weren’t confined in a bra. Fuck. I tried to clamp down on the desire pulsing through me when I saw that her tits were also tatted up, but it was futile, and my cock went from zero to sixty in 0.2 seconds. “Why the fuck are y
ou even here?” I pried my eyes away from her chest to find her smirking at me arrogantly.
“Well, I thought that was pretty obvious”—she waved her arm holding the blueprints—“but if you’re really that much of a moron I don’t think we need your help on this job,” she snarked. I was starting to feel like Garrett with the amount of teeth grinding I was doing. I gave him shit, but I secretly found her feistiness sexy as hell too.
“I suggest you leave.” I crowded her space. She was too much of a ticking time bomb, and when she finally went off and the consequences came down on her, I didn’t want her anywhere near the club. “You might have Garrett wrapped around your little finger and Brooks distracted by that cunt of yours, but I know a threat when I see one.”
“First of all, Garrett fucking hates me, so you’re wrong on that front. Second, it’s not my fault my pussy is fucking amazing and that your boss wants to come crawling back for another round. Finally, you can act reluctant all you want, but that fucking erection you’re sporting says otherwise.” She cocked a brow and started to walk around me toward her vehicle.
“You think you’re such hot shit, Kiera, but you’re not and one day all that shit you stir will come back on you,” I shouted after her, her left hand shooting up in the air to flip me the bird. Wait, did she say crawling back? Damn it, Boss. I groaned. He would be the one to think with his dick. I stormed inside, cursing my reaction to her with each step. I needed to be focused on club business, not distracted by the target she could be marking us with.
Fucking fiery thief…
Chapter 5
April 23rd
Tuesday Night
Chase
I scratched the scruff on my jaw as I walked through the main hall of the large house. Memories of when I first met my kittycat flashed to the forefront of my mind, but not even the thought of our long night of chase and fuck could relieve the dark cloud that hovered over me at what I would have to tell Kiera. She was in the back room bent over the blueprints, absently nibbling on her pink lip.
Staring, I took in my kittycat when she was in her element. Her index finger on her right hand tapped rhythmically against the stone table top as she scribbled down notes with her left. Her long, wavy honey brown hair was messily braided over her left shoulder, the tail of it brushing the blueprints. She wore a pair of cut off denim shorts and a black tank where the sides were cut down to her rib cage showcasing her lacy red bra. I felt my mouth water at the sight, but I pushed it away, there were more pressing issues to handle despite the fact that I wanted to eat her right up. Later, I promised myself.
“Kittycat.” I strode the rest of the way into the room. Her darkened moss-colored eyes flickered up to my face, brows drawing low in concern at my serious tone.
“What is it, my little assassin?” Her husky voice practically singing my nickname made my heart squeeze. I don’t want to do this. I counted to three before addressing what I had learned.
“I found out about the auctions and the buyers.” I leaned my hip against the table, my ever-present faux-suede jacket had been tossed over one of the leather recliners in the corner when I had gotten the call. The familiar softness it provided was missing and I found myself absently rubbing my bare arms as they crossed over my chest. My black shirt was tight against my torso, my leather holsters and the familiar weight of my guns providing the only comfort under this heavy cloud.
“And?” she asked, her eyes growing more worried. “Why are you so serious right now? You’re never serious. Please don’t tell me it’s bad.” Her eyes widened comically as a small pout curled her lip out. “I hope nuns aren’t the buyers. Nuns are the buyers, aren’t they? I hate nuns.” I cracked a tiny smile, her attempts to soothe me making the dark cloud a little less grey and a little less substantial.
“No, my little kittycat, you’re safe from your fear of clergy members. One of the main buyers,” I hesitated to take in a reassuring breath, “is Frankie. He buys the girls to use as high-class, high-priced escorts in the Solace Hotel.” Her face paled in alarm although two tiny splotches flushed in fury on her cheeks, her eyes stormy at the news.
“All right.” She looked back toward the blueprints and her notes, absently bobbing her head in a nod. “Okay, that changes the plan.” I tilted my head, the weight lifting off of my shoulders finally having told her. I wouldn’t be able to hold back the bloodthirsty urge to shoot Frankie in the head if she had broken down. She’s stronger than that, I chastised myself.
“What do you have in mind?” I could tell my voice was lighter, more cheery than before, the light-heartedness seeping back in when I saw the mischievous glint lighting her eyes. A manic grin curled her delicious lips.
“We’re going to steal all of the girls.”
April 25th
Thursday Late Afternoon
Kiera
Abby was talking with a woman with a ‘Property of Butch’ patch on her leather jacket. No idea who Butch was, but I felt sorry for him because the way his girl was screeching at Abby was making my ears ring. I was leaning back against the bar, a lowball of whatever alcohol they keep around here swirling in my hand. My assassin was busy watching the warehouse, noting any guards or anything odd. He told me this morning to take a break from the job since I had been up all night planning, the prize of fucking over Frankie from a score fueling me forward. Since I didn’t exactly socialize like a normal human being, I found myself at the compound waiting for Abby to finish listening to Miss Screechy Screecherson.
“You want more?” the boobilicious blonde bartender asked me, her smoky voice pulling me from facing the room to facing the bar. She held up the bottle of whatever I was drinking with a raised brow. I nodded, placing my glass back on the bar for her to fill. “What’s your name? I’m Cheryl.”
“Kiera.” I sipped the liquor, the burn in my chest comforting me like a big fuzzy blankie. Don’t turn those judgy eyes on me; thieves like comfy things too.
“So, you looking to be a hang-around? Or you looking to snag up one of the Aces and be an Old Lady?” she asked, her tone prying as she watched me. I raised a brow in response. “It’s just that I’ve seen you around the three single officers recently.” She shrugged. “You wouldn’t be the first. But honey, let me tell you a little secret. None of those men will settle for just anyone.”
“Why’s that?” I found myself asking despite the fact that I literally gave zero fucks about Brooks, Garrett, or Stone.
“Well, Garrett”—she tilted her head in thought—“he likes to hit it and quit it and rarely does it with the same chick twice. Although, he doesn’t go for the hang-arounds very often, usually drinks and sits in the corner all cranky.”
I chuckled. Sounds like Garrett. My stomach tightened with the thought of my asshole stepbrother with anyone, but her words pulled me away from my troubling internal thoughts.
“Brooks is the player of the three. Tends to fuck whoever catches his eye and it’s rare he stays with one for more than once or twice.” I nodded, tucking this information away for later. For what? I didn’t know, but my brain decided it was something I needed to remember.
“Stone, is well, Stone.” She shrugged again. “I’m sure you get what I mean when I say that.”
“Scares any possible women away with his scowly face?” I added with a smile.
“Better than being a snarky brat like this one woman I know.” Stone’s soft words were right behind me, his voice irritatingly sexy. Cheryl’s face paled, and she turned her attention to wiping the bar and cleaning glasses, her eyes purposely avoiding the Aces’ enforcer.
“You know you love me, jerkoff.” I gave him a smirk as Cheryl choked at my blatantly disrespectful nickname. He growled at me, his lip pulling back as he crossed his arms.
“Why are you here? Brooks and Garrett are on a ride,” he barked out, his hulking form trying to be intimidating by hovering over me. I pointed to Abby.
“That’s my best bitch over there. Not everything revolves around the Aces,
you know.” I turned back around to see Cheryl looking at me like I was signing my own death warrant. Which was probably true. “Why didn’t you go with the other two? Now the three musketeers are like the sad, broken up version of itself, like Guns ‘N Roses or One Direction,” I retorted. He growled before storming off into the back hallway.
“Wow,” Cheryl breathed. “You’re a special kind of stupid.” I grinned but didn’t say anything. Abby finally finished up with Butch’s girl and sank onto the stool next to me.
“Holy shit,” she groaned, rubbing her eyes. “Cher, get me the largest fucking glass you have back there.”
I eyed Abby. The bruises on her arms from our attempted kidnapping had darkened to an ugly purple and blue but were slowly starting to fade. Her dark hair was thrown in a ponytail at the back of her head, her thin face flushed with anger. She wore dark jeans, a faded band t-shirt, and her ‘Property of Tank’ jacket. As soon as the boobilicious bartender had her drink set in front of her, she gulped down two large swallows before turning to me.
“So, how’s it going?” Her rough voice was subdued, but I knew her sass was coming at some point.
“Good, Chase made me take a break from working so here I am.” I flashed a cheeky smile at her. “How’s the Old Lady life, ya old hag?” She punched me in the arm, making me laugh.
“Shut the fuck up, bitch.” She smiled despite her attitude. “I should be asking you how you’re doing in regards to certain club officers.” There’s the sass, I noted.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re referring to, ma’am,” I said studiously pressing a hand to my chest. “I’m the most honorable woman around.”
“That’s the biggest load of horse shit I’ve ever heard.” Abby rolled her eyes before continuing. “Seriously though, what’s up with you and Brooks? And Stone. And Garrett.” I scrunched my nose up.
