"Oh, yes, oh, please," she said, so close but hanging there on the edge. Way off in the distance of her awareness, engines roared and fans cheered and people walked out to their cars. But all Cora knew was Slider's grip and his breath and his cock inside her.
"Taking me so good," he growled, his hips smacking hers.
"Please," she moaned as the friction wound her higher and higher.
"Please what?" he asked, sucking on her earlobe.
"Put your hand between my legs," she whispered, too desperate to feel any self-consciousness about telling him exactly what she needed.
His fingers were there in a heartbeat, circling her clit and coating her with her own arousal. "That what you need?"
"Yes. God, Slider." Cora ground back against him as much as she could, but he held her so deliciously tight that mostly she had to just take him. And that was everything she wanted to do.
"Want you to come, Cora. 'Cause I'm gonna be right there with you."
The urgency in his voice was what did it. She hung on the knife's edge for one more second, and then she was falling, flying, floating. Moaning his name on the night air, her breath fogged the metal of the roof, an apparition of ecstasy that disappeared way too soon.
"Fuuuck," Slider groaned, his jerking cock buried to the hilt inside her. He withdrew most of the way and then filled her up again. And once more. "Jesus, I'm still coming."
"Yeah, give me all of it." And, man, what she wouldn't give to be able to feel the claiming mark of his come inside her, skin against skin . . .
But just then, she soaked in the pleasure they'd shared as his head fell against hers. His grip turned into a warm embrace that felt like love in a touch. For a long moment, they just were. Together.
Cora unleashed a long, satisfied exhale. "I love this car."
Slider chuckled so hard it turned into an outright laugh, and then she was laughing too-at the ridiculousness of what she'd said and in delight at his still too-rare laughter. They were still chuckling as they righted their clothes, got in her red baby, and drove up the mountain to the clubhouse.
The lot was already pretty full, but at least she wasn't too late. Five after ten didn't seem bad for having had such an earth-shattering orgasm.
Slider grasped her hand as she reached for her door, tugging her to him for one last contact before they had to try to keep their hands to themselves again. His kiss was a deep, lingering affair that made it clear he was in no hurry to part from her. But more bikes pulled in, and they resolved themselves to a few last hours of being good.
Cora didn't know if it was easier or harder after they'd just been so bad.
Inside, music, voices, and laughter greeted them as they wound through the lounge and the mess hall to find Bunny, Haven, and Alexa in the kitchen. All three looked up when Cora walked in, and then all three did double takes as Slider came in immediately after her.
"Hey, how can I help?" Cora asked.
"Put me to work, too, if you want," Slider said, his voice quiet and a little reserved.
Cora could feel her friends' surprise-and almost hear the million questions pinging around in their heads-but of course they didn't let on a thing with Slider, and happily asked for his help to carry the heavy Crock-Pots of meatballs and chili out to the mess hall tables. Race night parties were always buffet style, as usually there were too many people to try to seat them all.
Soon, beyond the immediate din of the music, the night went quieter, a sign that the races had ended. Within fifteen minutes, the clubhouse was rocking as race-goers filtered in, grabbed food, drank at the bar, and generally raised hell.
Cora loved the atmosphere of this place, even its rowdier, grittier side. Because it seemed so real. People who knew who they were and what they valued and weren't afraid to live their lives by their own rules.
She got the appeal of the Raven Riders. She truly did. And that was to say nothing of how much she admired the protective mission they'd embraced on top of it all.
For the next hour, she and Slider parted as she hung with the girls and he sought out the boys and his brothers. Laughing and talking and teasing and joking, for the first time in her life, Cora felt normal. Accepted. A part of something so much bigger than her-friendships, a relationship, a community. She thought about pulling Haven aside to tell her about Slider and what her dad had done, but tonight she just wanted to be.
When Slider found her again, she was still with the girls drinking wine around the kitchen table. "Hey Cora, can I steal you away for a minute?"
She didn't miss the way Haven's eyes bugged in a something's going on and you'll be telling me ALL look that made Cora bite back a grin, and then she was following Slider through the clubhouse and all the way to Dare's office in the back hallway. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah," he said. "But I wanted you to share what you witnessed earlier with some of the guys."
"Wow, do you think the Ravens can help find out something about this dogfighting?" she asked, hope snaking through her belly.
Slider stopped just before opening Dare's door. "Sweetheart, the Ravens have got ears, eyes, and friends just about everywhere. Never forget that."
"Good to know," she said.
He nodded and opened the door.
Chapter 18
Cora walked into a room full of the entire Ravens' board. Well, everyone except Jagger.
Dare, Maverick, Phoenix, and Caine waited for them as she and Slider closed themselves inside Dare's small office. The guys were laid back and totally friendly, but Cora didn't think she was imagining the current of tension under the surface.
And then, of all people, Caine McKannon was the one to speak first. "Cora, we need to know exactly what you saw and heard. Don't leave anything out." This wasn't Cora's first interaction with the Ravens' most intimidating member. He'd been her and Haven's point of contact for creating their new identities when they'd at first thought they'd be relocated away from the club. But with each new interaction, Caine never seemed even a little more approachable or knowable. And it wasn't just his pitch-black hair always covered in a black skullcap, or his fathomless ice-blue eyes, or the gauges in his ears, or the miles of ink that covered even his throat.
It was something untouchable inside him.
So she rushed to give him exactly what he asked for, starting with hearing the barking dog, and ending with watching the men's blue truck drive away and calling the shelter.
They let her speak without interrupting, Slider right by her side, a silent wall of strength and support. And then Caine traded looks with the other men that made her ask, "Do you know something about this dogfighting ring or these men?"
Caine nodded. "There's a gang up north of the county. Worst of the worst. I'd heard rumors the past few months that they'd gotten into it. Earlier today, I confirmed it." He nodded to a sheet of paper on the corner of Dare's desk, and Cora picked it up.
It was an invitation to something called the Crew's Cross. The details were sparse. Just a town's name, a date, and a time for next Saturday night. "How do you know this is for a dogfight?" she asked.
Dare gave a troubled sigh where he sat in the chair behind his cluttered desk. "Because dogfights aren't widely publicized. No one just happens upon one. You have to seek it out, earn the organizers' trust or be referred, and then get invited. Sometimes they don't even share the location information until the day of because they move around." Cora guessed that's why no street address appeared on the sheet.
Caine nodded. "I found a guy who got me an in, plus two." No doubt there was a very interesting story there, but in typical Caine style, that was all he said.
"You mentioned hearing about this the past few months," Cora said, musing out loud. "My director said the increased incidences of finding these injured dogs has been the past few months, too."
"That's no coincidence," Slider said, and all the other men agreed.
"Cora," Caine said. "Slider said you took pictures. Can I see them?"
She handed over her phone. "I'm sorry they're not that great. I was . . . kinda shaking." She felt a little pitiful admitting that in front of all these big, tough guys. Slider put his hand on her lower back as if to soothe her, and it worked.
Eyeing the images one by one, Caine didn't look up and he didn't miss a beat. "Given that the Crew was involved, that just proves that your fight-or-flight instincts were working."