Motorcycle Master: Bad Boy Angel (Alpha Male Master Series Book 1) Page 5

  "Do you want more?" he breathed, his finger rubbing against her clit.

  She'd barely heard his hot whisper, and when his finger thrust inside her, she was sure her legs would give way. She was melting, totally melting.

  "I'm waiting. Yes or no?"

  "Yes."

  "Yes what?"

  "Yes, please."

  "Wrong answer," he muttered, his lips pressing against her ear. "You know what I want to hear."

  "Fuck...who are you?"

  "You know exactly who I am. Say it."

  "Yes, please...Sir."

  Clutching a fistful of hair he brought her face against his chest, and as she poked out her tongue and caught the tiny driblets, his other hand moved from between her legs and grasped her backside.

  "You've got a great ass, and with that smart-aleck mouth of yours it's going be getting a lot of attention."

  Her butterflies, already alive and fluttering, burst into a wild dance, and she was sure there was no way her legs would hold her.

  "You know what I want from you!"

  "Uh-huh."

  It was a statement, not a question, and loving the feel of his fingers curled in her hair, she began sliding down his body to rest on her knees and pull away the towel. He tightened his grip, and as she placed her lips around his cock, she heard him suck in the air.

  "There...yeah, baby, slow, real slow, use your hand too."

  Marco sank into the glorious sensations. Her mouth was warm and wet, and she pursed her lips as she moved them up and down his shaft. Leaning over her, he rested his free palm against the wall, and as she swirled her tongue around the tip, a surge of energy pulsed through his loins.

  "You're good," he grunted. "You're real good. Keep going, just like that. Don't worry, I won't come."

  Kat wouldn't mind if he did. His strong, thick member was filling her mouth and she was loving it. A man she was ridiculously attracted to was dominating her, but he wasn't gruff, and he wasn't trying to prove anything. She felt as if she was with the real Marco, the man she'd sensed earlier, the man behind the mesmerizing brown eyes, not the rude, bossy man she'd met at the tavern. This Marco was in charge, but his energy was completely different.

  "Faster, baby."

  His voice was raspy, his breathing was rapid, and as she accelerated she could taste tiny drops of pre-come. He was drawing close, but gently stopping her, he slipped his cock from her mouth.

  "Take off your clothes, lay on your back, and play with yourself."

  Lifting her T-shirt over her head, she laid down and slid out of her track pants, then staring up at him she placed her fingers against her sex. Kneeling beside her, Marco took hold of his bursting member and started to rub. She was making soft sounds as her arousal grew, and when he reached out and began fondling her breasts, she lifted her chest to meet his touch. Her moans were growing louder, and he pinched her nipples, moving his hand from one to the other, then back again.

  "May I, Sir?" she abruptly bleated. "Please? I really need to."

  "Since you asked so nicely," he muttered, ready to explode. "On the count of three. One-two-three."

  Her back arched as her orgasm spasmed through her, and watching her sent him over the edge. His cock jerked and spewed, spilling over her stomach, and as the last spasm abated, he sat back on his haunches and took in a long deep breath. Willing his heart to settle, his eyes took in the deep red blush across her chest and her blissful smile. As if sensing his gaze, her eyelids fluttered open.

  "Hey, big boy."

  "Hey, yourself," he murmured, quickly reaching for the towel laying in a heap on the floor.

  Softly wiping her off, he reached for her hand, pulled her to her feet, and though she was unsteady, he moved them into the living room and on to the couch.

  "This is crazy," she said with a heavy sigh as she dropped down.

  "What's crazy?" he asked, sitting next to her and pulling her into his body. "We've got chemistry. Why is that crazy?"

  "I-uh..."

  "Relax," he said softly, feeling her body stiffen. "Why are you suddenly tense?"

  "I didn't expect...you don't seem like the type to do this."

  "Do what?"

  "You know, cuddle."

  "You don't know me, Kat. Now sink against me and let me hold you. You want to, I know you do, so drop your guard for a minute. I promise the world won't come to an end."

  Closing her eyes she let herself melt against his chest. His powerful arms were softly wrapping her up, and there was nowhere else in the whole world she wanted to be.

  CHAPTER SIX

  It was late, but Kat and Marco easily finished off a large pepperoni pizza and a bottle of red wine over a conversation that had centered around the club. She had been full of questions, and though he'd thought most of them innocent enough, as he paid the check and she reached for her glass to down the last mouthful, she broached the subject of drugs. The soft buzz from the wine evaporated as his senses turned to high alert.

  "I don't go in for them much," she said casually. "It was everywhere in New York. Is it the same here? I assume there's weed around the tavern, I could smell it, but what about the harder stuff?"

  "I stay out of that side of things," he replied, pretending to be equally cavalier, "and I wouldn't mention it to anyone, at least, not until you've been around a while. People can get a bit touchy. Why do you ask?"

  "I was just curious."

  "Curious, or are you looking to score?"

  He watched her closely. His niggling sense that her arrival at the club carried a hidden agenda was something he couldn't shake.

  "Me? Score? No, though I don't mind weed and quick blast of coke now and then."

  "Now and then? What does that mean?"

  "Now and then!"

  "Once a week, once a month?"

  "Neither. If the circumstances are right, let's put it that way."

  "The clock's ticking. It's time for me get to head home."

  "How much should I pack for our road trip?"

  "Enough for three, maybe four days. There's a town not too far if we need anything urgently."

  "Is this a formal campground with showers and--"

  "There's nothing formal about it. Come on, let's go."

  They left the pizzeria and climbed on board his bike, and wrapping her arms around him she held tightly as they zoomed up the hill, all the while wishing they'd be sleeping through the night together. The idea of waking next to his warm body was nothing short of heaven, but she immediately pushed away the thought. She had to keep her emotional distance. She had to! As he stopped in front of the big decrepit house and turned off the engine, she climbed off and removed her helmet.

  "You're welcome to--"

  "Come up?" he interrupted lifting his goggles on to his helmet. "Thanks, but I have stuff to do, and I forgot to ask, do you have a sleeping bag?"

  "Not much call for them in New York."

  "I'll bring one for you, and I'll check with Kratos about leaving your bike here, but regardless, I'll pick you up around noon."

  "Sounds good, but I was thinking about it on the ride back here. I've changed my mind. I think it might be better to put my bike somewhere else after all. I don't know my neighbors yet, and if I'm going to be gone it might be the smart thing to do."

  "Okay. You'll follow me and we'll drop it off."

  "Great. Thanks. Bye."

  "Hey, you don't get off that easy. Get your ass over here."

  Her stomach did a backflip as he reached out and grabbed her around the waist, and as his gloved hand pulled her against him, she studied his brown eyes. In the light of the street lamp they were more milk chocolate than dark, and she thought they were softer.

  "Thanks for a great night," he said, his voice unexpectedly tender, then brushing his lips against hers, he lingered his mouth in a warm, soft kiss.

  "Me too," she murmured as they broke apart. "I'll see you tomorrow."

  Watching her amble to her front door he let out a si
gh. It had been a long time since he'd felt anything for a woman, and the thunderbolt that was hitting him wasn't just unexpected, it was disturbing. He needed to have his handler run a check on her, and he cursed himself for not snapping her picture. He'd do it surreptitiously the next day. Dropping his goggles back over his eyes he started up his bike and rode down the hill.

  Marco only made contact with his handler when it was absolutely imperative, and if there was ever time when he needed to it was now. Kratos was going to meet the elusive HH, or so it seemed. The gang's fearless leader was certainly going to be with the powers that supplied the club its heroin and coke. Finally, after the endless wait, Marco had a break. The opportunity could not be missed.

  Hitting Sunset Blvd he turned East. Being Friday night the famous street was jammed, but expertly maneuvering his bike through the cars he headed towards Los Feliz, a suburb made famous because of its proximity to the Griffith Park Observatory. Cruising into the small township he came to a stop outside a nondescript diner. Shades were covering the windows blocking a view of the inside, and a CLOSED sign hung on the door. Walking around the back he made his way to a storage shed in front of which were several dead potted plants. Lifting one he retrieved a key, walked swiftly to the back door of the diner, unlocked it, walked inside, picked up the phone, and dialed a three-digit number.

  "Call center."

  The monotone voice on the other end sounded completely innocuous, but Marcos lived in no-man's land, and it was his lifeline.

  "767177. Apple Pie. Urgent."

  "Hold please."

  He waited, drumming his fingers on the counter. There was a click and the voice returned.

  "Thirty minutes."

  Hanging up the phone he let out a heavy sigh. Sometimes he felt as if he was in a B movie from the fifties, and the old stately home in which Kat lived fit the fantasy. Moving into the kitchen he helped himself to a large slice of peach-pie, heated it in the microwave, then adding a scoop of ice cream, he sat at the counter and slowly began to eat. It was delicious, but it needed something hot to wash it down. When he'd finished he put a jug on to boil, and had just made a mug of tea when he heard a car stop out front. Moving quickly to the window he peered through the closed curtain to make sure it was Steve Cartwright, his handler. It was. Several months had passed since they'd been face-to-face. It had been too long. Returning to the kitchen he unlocked the back door.

  "Hey, Marco. Good to see you."

  "Even better to see you," Marco declared as Steve entered. "You want anything? There's no coffee but the water's boiled if you want some tea."

  "The only thing I want to know why I'm here."

  "Let's sit down," Marco said soberly, moving across to a small table against the wall. "We finally have a break. Kratos is meeting with his dealers, possibly even HH himself."

  "No shit? Finally!" Steve exclaimed dropping into a chair. "That's great. When?"

  "Tomorrow morning. I never hear about this shit. Don't let our guys lose him."

  "Why is this happening, and why were you brought into the loop?"

  "A delivery went missing, and apparently Kratos has to prove he isn't trying to pull a fast one. I'm pretty sure the only reason I got to hear about it is because Dennis has either taken off or he's in a ditch somewhere. Kratos needed to unload, and I was the lucky guy who got to listen."

  "Fuck, this is great."

  "You know he's super-paranoid. You've got to tell our guys to be invisible."

  "Is he still doing his obsessive sweeps for bugs?"

  "Every day, all over the club, and he does it himself. I swear, that guy has more hi-tech gadgets than an electronics shop."

  "Any chance you can put a tracker on his bike, or better still, on him?"

  "Are you crazy? Even if he didn't find it, the kindly gentlemen he's meeting probably will, and then he's dead."

  "Yeah, sorry, what was I thinking? Damn, Marco, this is just too good."

  "There's something else. A girl."

  "A girl?"

  "Yeah. I'm getting a vibe off her. She just turned up, and the timing could be a total coincidence but I don't believe in them."

  "What's her name?"

  "Kat Baldwin. She's supposedly from New York, ran with Spiros and the Spartan Kings. She claims to be an actress, but when I asked her for a headshot she didn't have one. Said they were still packed."

  "That doesn't fly."

  "No shit. I'll try and get you a picture tomorrow. Her address is 7761 Sunset Lane Drive. It's up in the Hollywood Hills."

  "Anything else?" Steve asked, pulling out a small flip notebook and scribbling down the information.

  "Yep. Kratos is totally flipping out and he's evacuating the entire club. Half of the boys are gone already. The tavern will be completely empty of King members as of tomorrow afternoon. Sorry, almost completely empty. Tank will still be there, and Jim, the barman."

  "Might be a good time to try and plant some devices somewhere."

  "Might as well, but you can count on Kratos finding them."

  "We'll put in a dozen. Maybe he'll miss one, and one is all we need. You say he's got hi-tech equipment?"

  "Yeah, the latest."

  "Still, it's worth a try. Are you going to the rocks?"

  "Where else? At least I'll be in charge. Last time I had Dennis breathing down my neck. That dude is a lunatic, and he hates anyone getting close to Kratos."

  "Sounds like he's not going to be a problem anymore."

  "From your lips..."

  "Is that it?"

  "One more thing," Marco said, dropping his voice and running his fingers through his mop of long hair.

  "Why do I think I'm not going to like this?"

  "I'm hitting the wall."

  "That right? Well, it's been two years. That's hardly a walk in the park. When did it start?"

  "I've been feeling it a while, but it came on big tonight."

  "How long do you think you can hang in?"

  "Not sure. It kinda fell out of nowhere."

  "What if you got away for a few days?"

  "I think that would do me in. Once I'm out, I'll wanna stay out."

  "Marco, you're so close, especially if Dennis is out of the picture."

  "Yeah, I know."

  "Can you get through this rough patch? Maybe it will give us what we need."

  "Yep. I can do that."

  "I know there's no cell service at the rocks. When do you think you'll be able to get in touch?"

  "Tough to say, but I'll shoot for around three o'clock. Once I've checked in with the gang I'll head into the village for a bite to eat. Without Dennis breathing down my neck it'll be easier."

  "That it?"

  "Yeah, that's it."

  "That's enough. Damn. Finally. It's taken long enough."

  "You think? It feels like a lifetime. It's a nasty world where I'm living."

  "I'd say, I know, but I can only guess," Steve remarked rising from his seat, then pausing he place his hand on Marco's shoulder. "You've done a helluva job. If you need to bail I get it. Stay safe."

  "Yeah, thanks Steve."

  As Marco watched his handler disappear out the door, he leaned back and closed his eyes. He was tired. Seriously tired, but if there was ever needed a time to stay alert it was now. The situation was fluid. There were so many variables, so many possible finish lines, he couldn't begin to think of them all, nor did he want to. All he wanted to do was sleep.

  "When this is done I'm taking a month," he muttered as he rose slowly to his feet. "A month with absolutely nothing to do but eat great food and have a woman at my mercy. Hopefully a woman like Kat. What am I saying? Not a woman like Kat, I want it to be Kat."

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Across town in the large crumbling house, unable to sleep, Kat had pulled a chair on to the balcony and was sipping on vodka as she gazed out at the mesmerizing city lights that stretched into infinity. A part of her wanted to laugh out loud with sheer joy. She'd met a hunk
y, muscled dominant who was, underneath his gruff exterior, as sweet as an angel, but another part of her wanted to cry. What if he was involved with the distribution of the drugs for Kratos? He was the number three guy. He had to know about it. That alone made him guilty.

  "Why the hell did I jump into bed with him so fast?" she muttered, then taking another sip, as the thought tickled through her slightly inebriated brain, she knew exactly why.

  Her initial flirtation might have been her way of getting Marco's attention, but the heat had been there from the moment he'd walked into the gang-leader's office. Had it been the spanking that had sparked the glowing embers into the fire that had consumed them?

  "Dammit Why? Why did I have to meet him there? The last thing I need is to fall for a bad boy. What am I saying? I already have. What the hell do I do now?"

  A heavy yawn rose up through her body, and thinking she might be able to fall asleep, she rose slowly to her feet and wandered back to her bedroom, closed her curtains so the bright Southern California sun wouldn't wake her, and crawled into bed.

  "I can't let myself get carried away, I just can't," she murmured as she closed her eyes. "I have to keep an emotional distance. I don't know how the hell I'm going to do that, but I will. Somehow I will."

  Swept up by a second yawn, with Marco's handsome face inside her head, she began to drift off.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Kratos was sweating, and it wasn't because of the hot Southern California sun. He was riding his bike into the hills above Hollywood towards an exclusive gated community. He'd been to the house only once, and he'd hoped he'd never have to be there again. The property itself was spectacular. It had walls of glass, polished stone columns separated the seamless living areas, gleaming white furniture filled the rooms, and chrome accents were littered everywhere. Bizarre metal sculptures sat on tall pedestals, huge paintings that boasted artfully placed blobs of splattered paint lined the walls, and black leather rugs were strewn at odd angles looking harshly dark against the gleaming white porcelain floors. The pristine cold of the home was awe-inspiring and freakishly frightening, but Kratos couldn't care less about the bizarre interior decor. It was what he'd witnessed there that was filling him with dread.