Vengeance

by Kane Daemon

  “But you were out of the club by then.”

  “True, which is why it doesn’t make any sense.”

  She looked at me and put her cup down. “You want back into the club to figure out exactly what happened to her?”

  And there was the answer as to why women never hung around. Because I would never let Amanda’s death go. But who would? “Yeah, and I don’t know that it would be safe for you if I did that.”

  “Because I might end up like Amanda?”

  “I feel like you’re sitting there reading my mind.” I took a couple of bites and then pushed the bowl away. “Like you said, I can’t protect anyone twenty-four-seven.”

  “So you want me to leave?”

  “I don’t. But I also don’t want you to get hurt.”

  “If I stay, you’re probably going to need to wear more clothes around the house.”

  The doorbell rang, and he glanced at the remote lying on the table. The small screen showed a man at the door. Behind him, we could see my car and the tow truck that had brought it. Zane picked up the remote.

  “Hey, Charlie, you can leave it in the driveway.” The guy did his best to look through the glass door. Zane laughed. I wasn’t amused.

  “Ya got company or walking around naked again?” Charlie asked. He showed the camera the middle finger and laughed.

  “Charge it to the company.”

  The man tipped his cap and walked away.

  “You have some strange friends.”

  “Charlie’s a good guy. He lost his wife and son in a boating accident a few years ago. Been rough on him ever since.”

  “So, am I staying or going?” she asked, her bottom lip shot out, and I knew I’d hurt her feelings

  “I didn’t mean to be rude. I just want to make sure you know what you may be getting yourself into.” I moved away from the table and filled my coffee cup. The thing with having nobody was that you were responsible for nobody’s safety. Carrie was too young to go through the shit that could possibly come up.

  “I’ll make that decision for you, Zane.” She stormed around the table and stood in front of me at the counter. “I’m staying! What I’m going to couldn’t possibly be as bad as what I left. And if it is, at least I’ll have you there by my side.”

  “So young yet so wise.” I put my cup on the counter and then put my arms around her.

  “A very fatherly thing to say.”

  “Here we go with the daddy thing again.” I brushed several black strands of hair behind her ears before nudging her back a step. Moving my hands to her robe, I undid the knot and let the material part. The inner sides of her breasts appeared, her nipples pressed hard against the satin cloth. Her pussy was cleanly shaven, which meant she found the unopened electric razor. I was sure she found it pretty fucked up that a single guy would keep all that stuff. It was a life lesson well-learned. Always be prepared.

  I placed my hand against the side of her face and caressed her skin. She stared at me with a glint of innocence before she lifted her hands and pushed the robe off her shoulders. The robe landed on the floor. The pads of my fingers glided between her breasts, my tips soft against her skin, trailing down her stomach.

  Her eyes locked onto mine. She slowly shoved my shorts to the floor. “I’m staying,” she reiterated with certainty.

  “I’m glad.” I lifted her into my arms and carried her through the house to the back bedroom, passing her room, which she would never sleep in again. In my bedroom, I laid her near the end of the bed and kneeled on the floor. She looked down at me as if I had lost my mind or something. I could feel her tense up when my hands touched her knees.

  Carrie spread her legs and stared at the ceiling, her hands comfortably relaxed at her sides. She squirmed when I kissed the insides of her thighs, her hands moving to grab the sheets. It was apparent to me that she missed out on something in life.

  “Fucking gorgeous,” I said, and Carrie glanced down at me. Her eyes told me she was not used to a man touching her in the manner I was about to.

  I kissed her opening, but didn’t enter, opting to kiss around her lips, making her writhe even more. Of course, her skin was soft against my mouth, and as I eyed her, I noticed the building wetness. Moving my hands beneath her thighs, I held her legs and pushed them toward her breasts, opening her pussy for me to see. I licked between her lips, and she shifted back, moaning and squirming. Her hands tore at the sheets.

  I pulled her back toward me, intent on keeping her against me.

  “Fuck, Zane. Fuck.”

  With her legs still up, I licked deeper, my tongue entering her before sliding upward between her shimmering lips, gently flicking her clit.

  “Fuck,” she said. “Do it again, Zane. Please do it again.”

  I held her legs tighter in case she tried to move again. When I licked, I stuck my tongue inside her, tasting, moaning, and swirling around. She cried out, and I tasted her as she came. It had been that easy.

  Carrie moved to her elbows and scooted herself toward the headboard, where she plopped her head on one of the pillows. I crawled forward and stopped between her legs, my cock hard, and needing to be satisfied.

  “I’ve never come with a dick inside me,” she said. Seeing my disbelief, she repeated it. “Please give me that sensation. I want to come on your cock. I want to know what that feels like.”

  I didn’t move into her right away. Instead, I placed my lips on her and kissed her, deeply, erotically, our mouths heated and open, tongues touching, saliva passing between us.

  Sometime during the kiss, my cock found its way inside her, and she tried to move away. The headboard kept her in place. I went slow, careful not to hurt, careful to make sure she enjoyed every inch I had to give her. She moaned and pulled me down against her breasts. I sucked one erect nipple and then the other, grabbing her breasts, still fucking her, nails digging into my back.

  Moans filled the room.

  The bed moved and squealed.

  Carrie whimpered, bucking her hips against me.

  I rammed into her, forgetting how young she was. Forgetting we barely knew each other.

  A wetness surrounded me. Warm and deliciously sensual.

  I pulled out a bit and then drove back inside.

  Carrie cried out, her nails digging deeper.

  “Fuck,” she said, and I moved faster, pressing her down into the bed.

  She came hard, crying out, actual tears in her eyes.

  I held back as long as I could, but then the deluge began.

  Every muscle in my body tensed as I released inside her, as she held onto me, moaning with each warm jet.

  “Oh shit,” she said and relaxed, her arms dropping to her sides.

  “You okay?”

  She nodded. “Fantastic. That’s never happened before.”

  “Then you’ve been missing out.” I kissed her forehead and then her lips, moving down her body. Just simple, gentle kisses. Kisses atop her nipples. Kisses in the shape of an s on her stomach. Kisses around her pussy and thighs.

  I moved to her side, and she turned to face me. “I can still feel you inside me. It’s very warm.”

  “I enjoyed putting it there.”

  “Don’t most men enjoy doing that?” She saw my eyes light up. “Whoa! I didn’t mean in me.”

  I rolled to my back and laughed. “What did you mean?”

  “I’ve only been with two men in my life. Well, three now.” She had a look of concentration on her face, and I knew the next question. “How many have you been with?” She ran her hand across my chest and then rested her chin on my stomach.

  “I’ve been with zero men,” I said.

  “Funny.” She kissed my chest and ran her fingers across my nipples. “I’m not the world’s best cook, but what if I make us dinner tonight?”

  “Oh shit, that reminds me. Listen. There’s a charity event this evening in Phoenix that I'm supposed to attend.”

  “Do you help everyone?”

  “I make
good use of the money I earn. This event is for a children’s charity. It was one of Amanda’s favorites. I’d like you to go with me. It’s a black-tie event.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Meaning there’s a very nice black dress in the closet you’ll need to wear tonight.” I moved my arm over her waist and grabbed her ass. She moved her hand to my face and then kissed me.

  “Is there anything you don’t think of?” Her eyes were soft and kind. I felt guilty for dragging her into what would eventually become a mess.

  I let go of her ass and climbed out of bed. “I’ve got to run to the office for a couple of hours. Make yourself at home. And be sure to try on that dress and let me know if I need to stop on the way back and pick up something different.”

  By the time I showered and left the house, noon had already come and gone. Ten minutes on the highway, and the day began to fall apart.

  They appeared in my side-view mirror. Three bikes. Three large men. One came up on my left, another on my right. The third one pulled in front of me and slowed, Arizona King Slayers Motorcycle Club printed across the back of his leather cut.

  I eased off the road and onto the shoulder. When I stopped, I made damn sure I was the first to stand.

  “What’s up, Bain?” I asked and prepared for a fight.

  Bain Straighter, the guy who pulled in front of me, was Arizona King Slayers’ president. They didn’t openly claim to be one-percenters, but the name pretty much said it all. They were hell-bent on ridding Arizona of all other motorcycle clubs. They were into the drug trade, gun-running and, unofficially, human trafficking.

  “Heard you were thinking of getting back into the game. Thought we’d check out those rumors.” Bain didn’t intimidate me at all. Neither did the other two men flanking me. But steroids were part of their daily nutrition regiment. Roids, however, did nothing to help their reaction time.

  “Can’t say it hadn’t crossed my mind,” I said. “How long you been following me?”

  “Since your house.”

  “Should have just come up and rung the doorbell.” I shifted my gloves. Bain glanced at my hands and then back at me. His pause suggested he was considering his options. All three men stood around six-two or six-three, but each man had a good twenty-pounds on me. “Is that it? Just one question?” I prepared for the oncoming attack. Hit quick. Hit hard. Fuck them up as fast as possible. Be prepared for that one punch that would land.

  “Why are you coming back?” Coffin Joe asked.

  Joe Smith, not a very intimidating name, up until five years ago, helped his father at Smith’s Funeral Home. When he left that life and joined the King Slayers, he was given the name Coffin Joe. A rumor still circulated he’d killed a couple of men and used his father’s business to bury them.

  “To figure out who the hell killed my wife.” I looked at the third guy, a member I didn’t recognize. A Prospect patch adorned his cut. “Of course, if you know who did it, you could make my return short and sweet.”

  “No fucking way we’d do that to your ol’ lady, Zane. We have boundaries we’d never cross. That’s one of them.” Bain’s left eye twitched. Coffin Joe’s eyes narrowed. Guy number three looked as if he were about to shit his pants.

  “Hell’s Justice Motorcycle Club’s days are numbered, Zane. Sure, you want to get back into the club?” Bain crossed his massive arms. I thought maybe he was waiting for me to make the first move. Then he could say the Hell Hounds started the war.

  “You know I’ll get involved if you attack the club,” I said. “The state’s big enough for both.”

  “Not since Trucker started moving in on our territory.”

  “The fuck you mean?”

  “Figures,” Coffin Joe said. “Trucker don’t tell him shit.”

  Bain removed his gloves. If he’d planned on a fight, he would have left them on. “He’s moving in on our gun and pussy business.”

  “Bullshit. He needs club approval.”

  “Fucking nomad,” Coffin Joe said.

  “You might want to shut him up,” I said to Bain, and slipped my gloves back on. From the corner of my eye, I noticed Coffin Joe took a step back. “Before your club pulls any shit, give me a chance to get in and figure out what the hell’s going on.”

  “Trucker will be pissed if you go behind his back.” Bain glanced at my gloves. “Go on back,” he said to the others, but Coffin Joe hesitated. “Go.” Bain waited until his two members were on their bikes and down the road before saying another word. “You know the Slayers had nothing to do with your wife’s murder?”

  I nodded. “I don’t think the Slayers are that stupid,” I said. Inside I laughed. My attitude was changing, reverting back to the club's ways. “I’ll see what I can do about the club expanding into your territory. You see what you can find out about my wife’s murder.” I walked away and climbed on my bike. “I’ve got your word, you leave the club alone and let me figure this shit out?”

  “For now,” Bain said. “But the club’s restless about this shit. Fix it, Zane.” He climbed on his bike and sped away.

  Thirty minutes later, I found myself at work, sitting in the parking lot, staring at the warehouse. After Amanda was killed, everyone told me to sell the place. I put it up for sale for two weeks, had an offer, but then declined. I didn’t know why. The worst event in my life took place there. Maybe because when we opened the business, Amanda picked the place out.

  Because it was a Sunday, only Manny Alvarez was inside. Manny managed the inventory, choosing to work Sundays because there were fewer distractions. He was not pleased with something.

  “Our latest shipment of parts is being held up at the Mexican border. May not get here until next weekend.” Manny came to the states from Mexico City, so I knew he had contacts.

  “We know why?” He noticed me looking toward the back office. After Amanda’s murder, I closed off the area and had an office built upfront.

  “You okay, boss?”

  “Yeah, it’s fine. So, what do you know about the shipment?”

  “The Aztecs own the personnel at that particular crossing.” Manny laid his clipboard on one of the shelves.

  “And the Slayers have an agreement with the Aztecs,” I said. “Makes perfect sense. Contact our Canadian supplier. See what they can do. We should have enough product.”

  “I’ll make the call now.” Manny headed toward the front office, and I headed toward the back.

  The door squealed from not being used when I opened it. I passed through the office and closed the bedroom door behind me.

  “Are you here?”

  I laid on the bed and looked around.

  “Are you here, Amanda?”

  “I am,” she said and appeared at the foot of the bed. “You have a new woman in your life.” My imagination was getting better.

  “Carrie,” I said. “What do you think of her?”

  “Better than that slut Jennifer you dated.” Amanda crawled toward me. “Honestly, she’d be good for you, Zane.”

  “I don’t want to stop seeing you.”

  “You know I can’t stay forever, Zane. Your heart will never let me go, but your mind eventually will.”

  “Can I love her the way I love you?”

  “You can. But you also have business to take care of, babe. The club needs you.” She undid my jeans and grabbed my cock. “I miss this, you know.”

  “I miss you, sweetheart.” I watched her take my cock into her mouth. She slipped her blouse off and let her breasts rub against me, my cock moving up and down, the soft skin heavenly against me.

  “I’ve missed having you inside me.” She removed her jeans and straddled me. “I Love you, Zane.”

  “Boss?”

  “Be right there,” I yelled and opened my eyes, the room empty and dire. “I’ll find the motherfucker who did this, Amanda. And when I do, the punishment will far outweigh the crime.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Carrie

  I made myself a sandwich an
d sat out by the pool, taking Zane’s last beer from the refrigerator. I was sure he had a stash somewhere that he would hit when he got home.

  There were three more swimsuits in the bottom drawer, and I chose the white one, though I suspected if I got in the pool, the suit would be completely see-through. That really didn’t matter since only Zane would see me.

  My life had changed overnight and would never go back to the way it was, if I so chose. I was pleased about that. Zane was turning out to be a paradox of sorts. Nice guy. Tuxedo. Rich. I was hanging out with the well-to-dos. But he also had a dark side. He was the biker guy with a past. The stars aligned just right, and I had shown up in his life right when he decided to get back into the club scene. Perfect

  Zane Legend. What a name. What hands. What an ass.

  I looked along the wall surrounding the pool and then slipped my hand between my legs, the sun warm against my skin, my pussy hot against my fingertips.

  Zane Legend was the man with the skillful lips.

  I closed my eyes and thought about his mouth on me, the way his tongue maneuvered inside me, the way his strong hands held my legs, and the pain turning to pleasure. I moved my hand faster, dipping inside my wet hole. “Zane Legend,” I whispered. “Fuck me.”

  The chair moved with each thrust of my hips. Moans bounced around the backyard. “Zane Legend,” I whispered again. “Fuck me.”

  His fingers circled and dipped inside me, my hips moving faster, his fingers thrusting deeper, my juices flowing. “Fuck me, Zane!”

  I came and shook in the chair, the sun beating against my skin, the smell of the pool, the light breeze, all sending me over the edge. And then the clapping brought me back to reality.

  I jerked my hand from between my legs and stared in horror at the two men standing on the other side of the pool.

  “That was an impressive show,” the larger of the two men said. His muscles pressed against his shirt, screaming to escape. A red bandana surrounded his head. His blue jeans were torn at the knees, and his forearms were covered in tats. The other man, though shorter, could have been his twin. “Time to do it for real.”