HARDCORE: Storm MC(77)

But now that she'd seen the apprehensive look on Hunter's face, she wished she hadn't hoped that after all. Because anything that could put that much fear into him was almost certainly something heavy enough to take down the entire club.



Missy shut off the water, toweled off, and got ready for bed. She tried to think about what could possibly pose such a risk to the Eagles, but her thoughts kept returning to Cain's body.



In the past, she'd always been fascinated—and somewhat horrified—by men's ability to shamelessly lust after women they didn't even like, or in some cases, outright loathed. As a woman, she'd always smugly considered herself above that kind of thing.



But now she was fantasizing about a stubborn man who'd spent most of the night treating her like she was an annoying pest, and she was embarrassing herself in the process.



She slipped between the sheets and rolled onto one side, then the other, trying to get comfortable. Every time she shifted into a different position, she thought about how Cain's hands would feel on her body.



She tossed and turned, picking up her cell phone every ten or fifteen minutes to check the time.



Thirty minutes passed. Then another thirty.



And another.



Okay, this is ridiculous, Missy thought. I've had a long night, I'm exhausted, and I need to get some sleep no matter what it takes. If that means indulging myself in this stupid fantasy for a few minutes to get it out of my system, so be it. Maybe a good, solid orgasm will knock me out.



She got up, grabbed her vibrator from its drawer, and flopped back down on the bed. She turned the knob at the base of the device and gently pressed the humming tip against her clit, sighing and closing her eyes.



In Missy's mind, Cain was naked and positioning himself over her prone body. His injuries were gone, his skin taut and tantalizing in the glow of the early afternoon sun. His long brown hair hung around his shoulders, and the shafts of light from the window picked up the reddish highlights in his neatly-trimmed beard. His green eyes twinkled mischievously, filled with desire as his lips hovered inches away from hers.



He reached between Missy's legs and the buzzing toy became his fingers, stroking the moist lips of her pussy. She let out a low moan as his fingers traced delicate patterns up and down, teasing her before plunging inside of her. They pushed against her G-spot insistently, making her light-headed with pleasure. She could hear her pulse throbbing in her ears and imagined it was Cain's heartbeat as he pressed himself against her body.



Just when Missy felt like she couldn't take any more, the vibrator went deeper inside of her, touching her cervix. She rubbed her clit and let out a long cry of ecstasy as she came hard, soaking the blanket beneath her pelvis.



She stayed there for a few more moments, breathing hard and trembling. Finally, she switched the vibrator off and tossed it on the nightstand. She got under the covers again and put on her sleep mask.



But she still found herself strangely jittery and unsatisfied, and caught herself wondering how her fantasy of sex with Cain would compare to the real thing.



Sleep was a long time coming.





Chapter 11



Hunter



Hunter was deep in thought as he rode his bike over to Cain's place to check in on him.



He hadn't wanted to let Missy see how uneasy he was, but he knew he'd done a piss-poor job of hiding it. One more thing to blame himself for, along with not going to the Teepee Motel to take care of the dealer himself and not being prepared for the threat that faced the Eagles now. Keith had told him the name Nostril had given up.



Gaspar Hernandez, Hunter thought. Fuck. We are so screwed.



The Eagles had maintained a truce with Gaspar ever since he and his gang moved into Dipper County a year and a half ago. Gaspar was a high-ranking member of the powerful Barros Cartel based in Mexico, just outside of Juarez. They'd sent him up to Ohio to oversee their Midwest distribution network for cocaine and heroin.



At first, there had been some tension between the Eagles and Gaspar's men, but they soon met and established a set of boundaries they could both work within. The Eagles agreed not to deal coke or H so they wouldn't be competing with the Barros Cartel, and in return, Gaspar agreed to respect the club's turf and keep his business outside of Micanaw's borders. This arrangement had worked well so far, since neither side seemed eager to start a war that would attract the attention of the authorities.



But based on what Keith had told Hunter, now it seemed like Gaspar had decided to piss all over their treaty. He'd set Nostril up in a room at the Teepee and waited for word to get out that someone was dealing in Micanaw without permission. And when the Eagles showed up, Gaspar's men had been there, ready to send a bloody message.