Man of the House(172)

If I really did drop to my knees, tear off his pants, and suck his cock until he came down my throat. Or if I let him fuck me rough from behind, slapping my ass hard, savoring the slap of skin against skin.

I gripped his body and felt his hard muscles through his clothes. He kicked the bike into life, the loud roar tearing through the sky, the powerful buzz of the engine moving up through my body.

I felt a thrill run through me. I needed to control myself, but being so close to him, straddling his bike, it just pushed me to the limit.

I took a deep breath as he pulled out into traffic.





18





Clutch





The wind was whipping past my face as we sped back toward Janine’s place.

The damn clubhouse had been a fucking zoo, and I was a little pissed that Dow had been stupid enough to tell Janine about Parkey and James getting lit up. The fucking idiot had no clue what Janine was putting on herself; in her mind, the whole club’s safety was somehow her responsibility.

Which was bullshit, of course. She had no more power to save anyone’s life than anyone else did. Difference was, she had this mission that she thought was important. And it was important. It could do some good things for the club, bringing in these new guys, but it wasn’t her responsibility to make that happen.

The fucking guys themselves, they were a bunch of damn thugs. Not that I minded a good thug; I was one myself really. But they couldn’t go a single day without starting some fucking shit, and each guy thought he was tougher than the next. They all wanted to take a shot at the club’s enforcer. Not that I minded. That only meant I had to beat their asses and throw them out.

Every guy I threw out was one less soldier against the Snakes. We were so damn busy fighting within ourselves that we were forgetting the real fucking enemies.

As I made a left onto Janine’s block, I spotted something a bit back: two guys on bikes, riding side by side. Not too close but not too far away, they made me give them a double take.

I rode past Janine’s place just to be careful. They were probably two fucking suburban dads out for a ride in their leathers.

But instead of pulling past me eventually like I expected, they stuck a car or two back, tailing me.

Fuck. I realized that these were two fucking bikers following us, not some regular assholes out for a ride on a nice day.

I felt Janine squeeze my side as I stopped at a light. She yelled into my ear.

“My place is back there,” she said. “What are you doing?”

“Gotta keep riding,” I said back.

“Why?”

“Tell you in a bit.” The light changed and I pulled out, drowning out her response.

The guys were professionals; that was for sure. I could tell by the way they kept their distance. I lost them a few times, but as soon as I rode around a bit, they would reappear a few cars back, tailing me.

They were Snakes. There was no doubt in my mind. I couldn’t see their cuts of course, but they didn’t look like Mezcals, and I couldn’t think of anyone else who would want to tail us.

Fucking hell, Larkin was right. The Snakes were making a move and making it early. I didn’t blame them, since this fucking merge with the Rebels could be a disaster for them. They probably thought that if they could kill the girl, then that would cause enough shit to make the merge fall apart.

I couldn’t just pull over, and if I went to the clubhouse, then the guys would just wait for us and come again another time. No, I had them and they didn’t realize I knew they were back there. I needed to make a move and finish this off before they caught wind of what I knew and backed off.

I took a right and headed for the highway. I got on and watched as the two guys followed, staying carefully back, never drawing too near.

I could feel the anxiety in Janine behind me, but I couldn’t stop and tell her what was happening. We hit the open road and drove, riding out fast and far.

As I went, a plan slowly started to form in my mind. It was maybe risky, but if the guys fell for it and really stuck to following me, it might work.

I headed off another ramp and got onto another highway, this one leading out into the desert. There were fewer cars here for those two bikers to hide behind, but they kept at it, maybe being a little more reckless. They were probably suspicious, since why would I be going into the desert right now, but they didn’t back off. That was fine. All I needed was for them to stay with me.

We drove out along the desert highway, deeper and deeper into the growing night. The sun dipped low over the horizon, and Janine just held on tight as I rode, wind whipping past, my machine roaring between our legs.

Death was following us, death on two bikes, two men ready to murder us both.

And it was my job to stop it, like I had so many times in the past. Me and the Grim Reaper, we were old, intimate friends. We were on a first-name basis. I saw him regularly, and he wanted me, wanted me bad.