"What are you up to, sweetheart?" he asked, grinning as he pushed his sunglasses up on his head.
"Pleasing you," she said, planting a hand against his chest and forcing him to lean back.
Watching her with an animalistic glint in his eyes, he braced one hand against the small second seat on his bike.
"I've been wanting to do this," she said, unzipping his jeans and freeing his cock.
"Have you now?" he gritted out as she took him in hand.
"So much." Cora didn't play or tease, she just wet him with her tongue from root to tip before sucking him in deep.
"Fuck," he said, a hand falling on the back of her head. "Fuck, that's good."
Bracing one hand against the gas tank, Cora stroked him with the other as she lifted and lowered her mouth over him. And, oh, man, he was a delicious mouthful, so long she couldn't fit him all in her mouth, but she sure as hell wanted to try. Again and again, she took him to her throat, ringing groans and curses out of him that stole her breath as much as his cock in her mouth.
"Christ, Cora," he said. His hand tightened in her hair, holding her, guiding her, urging her on. "Taking my cock so good."
She moaned around him and debated pushing a hand inside her own jeans, but she was enjoying his pleasure too much to worry about her own. She sucked harder, took him deeper, until he was thrusting his hips and fucking her mouth.
"Gonna come. Oh, hell, gonna come," he said, his fingers twisting in her hair. "Cora," he rasped, his cock jerking inside her mouth. She sucked down everything he gave her and licked and mouthed at him long after the last drop. He shuddered and stroked her back. "Damn," he said, his tone so appreciative that she couldn't help but grin.
"You can pick me up on your motorcycle any old time you like, Mr. Evans," she said, wiping at the corner of her mouth.
His smile was immediate-and devastatingly sexy. "You can bet that pretty little ass that's happening every chance I get." Righting his clothes, he dismounted, and then he took her face in both hands and claimed her mouth in a plundering kiss. "Your turn."
"We only have fifteen minutes until the bus," she said, grinning.
Slider arched a brow. "You suggesting I can't have you screaming in ten? 'Cause that's a bet I'll take." He opened the button on her jeans, then the zipper, and then he shoved his big hand down under her clothing until he found her wet heat.
"Oh, God," she said, clutching at his shoulders.
He kicked one of her feet wider, and then his fingers stroked and circled and penetrated deep. His other hand moved to her hair, holding her to him and forcing her to meet his aroused gaze. "That's it," he said. "Chase it, sweetheart. Ride my hand and get it."
Cora tilted her hips and strained against the maddening friction of his fingers and palm. She held her breath and gasped in turns, sensation tightening and spiraling and gathering inside her.
"Yeah, there it is," he gritted out, his fingers moving harder.
"Slider," she said. Her fingers dug harder at his arms as his strokes made her knees feel too soft to hold her. He gave her a nod, his eyes on fire, and then the orgasm was . . . almost . . . there . . . She shouted his name before her release stole her breath. Shaking against him, she writhed as her muscles clenched again and again. She clutched at his wrist, his touch suddenly too much. But he wouldn't stop, wouldn't let up, until she was limp against him and only his arm around her waist held her up.
"God, that was beautiful to watch," he said, kissing her forehead.
"I think I'm dead now."
He chuckled and shook his head. "Nope. You'll live to come another day. Count on it."
Cora laughed, because Slider had been hiding an awesome sense of humor all these months, and she was getting to see more of it every day. "I love you," she said.
"Right back atcha, sweetheart." He brought his hand to his mouth and licked his fingers clean.
"Jesus," she whispered, watching him. "Not gonna forget watching you do that any time soon."
He gave her a wink. "By the way, the bus will be here in six minutes. So I got you off with time to spare."
His tone was so smug that she wasn't sure whether she wanted to hit him or kiss him, but she could only laugh. "Duly noted."
When she was buttoned up again, they walked hand in hand toward the house, past her car-
"Oh, no," she said, frowning. "My tire's flat." The front passenger's tire sat flat against the ground. And then she gasped. "That one is, too!"
"Sonofabitch," Slider said, crouching down to inspect it. "That's not flat, that's been cut." He fingered a slit in the black rubber, and then he stalked around the car to find that all four had been sliced.
"Who would do this?" she asked, her belly tossing.
"Davis," he growled. "Making sure you took his warning seriously."
The school bus pulled up and Cora tried to shake the worry off her expression. "Are we telling them?"
"No," Slider said. "Not unless we have to. Take them inside. I'm going to let the club know and get Martin over here to file a report. And then I'm gonna wring somebody's fucking neck."
Chapter 22
Slider waited until the boys were in bed, and then he invited his brothers to come over to strategize. Martin had been there hours before to take pictures of the car and get Slider's statement, but he came back again now for the meeting. Because shit was escalating, and they needed a plan.
When they were all gathered in his family room-to reduce the chances of their voices drifting up the stairs and waking the boys-Slider turned to Martin.
"I want to know what you're going to do about this Davis situation. Because this shit is now ten kinds of personal to me. He was at my house, harassed my girlfriend, and now he's sliced her tires to drive home the threat he issued as he left her that day." Cora sat beside him on the couch, and Bosco lay in a big lump right between both of their feet.
Martin was a few years older than Slider and had gone to school with Dare back in the day. The friendship they'd made then was even stronger now, which was why Martin held up his hand and said, "Dare and I have talked and he's shared everything you've learned. I'm on board. Trust me, I'd like nothing more than to put Davis away and get him out of my office and off the streets. But this needs to be airtight, and that means that I've got to minimize the extent to which Raven Rider hands are all over it."
"No way are we stepping aside," Caine said. Slider nodded.
Raking a hand through his wavy brown hair, Martin shook his head. "Gimme a little credit here. I've known you guys for twenty fucking years. You think I don't know that already?" He sighed. "I propose the following. First, I'll have one of my men patrolling by here on a regular basis."
Slider rolled his eyes so hard they nearly fell out of his goddamn head.
"Second," Martin said, clearly sensing their frustration. "I'm going to organize a sting on this dogfighting event Saturday night. I've already reached out to several surrounding jurisdictions for backup. Take out the dogfighting, maybe some Crew members, and Davis all in one fell swoop. Combine that with the other evidence that you've collected about Davis's activities, and he goes away. For a long time."
That sounded good, but Slider shared the question that Caine voiced: "Are you asking us to sit out of it then?"
"Ideally, yeah," Martin said, eliciting groans all around the room. "But I know you fuckers. I try to box you out, you go in anyway and shit goes fubar. So the three of you can go in like you planned, ID Davis for us and confirm he's there, and then we close in. Obviously, we want to take the dogfighting down, but if our primary target is Davis-"
"And it is," Dare said.
Martin gave a nod. "Then making sure he's there is useful to both of us."
"What about Jagger?" Maverick asked. They all murmured in agreement.
"I can't control the courts," Martin said. "But you can sure as shit bet I'll press the district attorney to review the new evidence. And I'll get Jagger's lawyer working on it, too-but not until after Saturday night's event. We can't let anything tip Davis off. And that includes all of you. Same routines. Same activities. In case he's watching-or has someone else doing it-nothing to alert him that anything's happening. If he was over here interrogating Cora about her statement, then he's already paranoid enough. We don't want him acting-or running."