It was surreal being held up in the air like that- speared by his cock. It felt so good I knew I was going come again soon.
“I should- uh- chain you up- uh- right here.”
I moaned and my head fell back. He lowered his head to my throat and kissed it.
Then he bit it, his hot breath fanning my neck.
RING RING.
“Fuck if I’m getting that.”
RING RING.
He kept riding me, taking me standing up like a beast. I dug my nails into his back as another phone somewhere else in the house starting going off.
RING RING.
“FUCK!”
He slowed his thrusts, leaning his forehead against mine. He kissed me hard and pulled out. I was quiet as he lowered me and wiped his brow.
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
I didn’t want to stop, don’t get me wrong. But he was already grabbing his phone, and answering it with a terse ‘DeWitt.’
He stared at me, nodding and agreeing with whatever was being said on the other end of the line. He hung up and reached for his clothes.
“I have to go sweetie. You’re going to have to wait for round two.”
He grabbed his gun and badge and kissed me hard.
“Fuck, I don’t want to go.”
“It’s okay. You have to do your job. It’s important.”
“You’re right. I know you’re right.”
“But Conn?”
He brushed my hair back and kissed my neck, his hand sliding down to my ass to squeeze it.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“You might want to put on some shoes.”
Mason
“If you don’t fucking produce Casey, I’m going to fucking come after you.”
I slammed the phone down, not the least bit concerned that I’d just threatened a federal agent. I was standing behind the bar of The Jar, leaning against the solid wood.
The old polished wood usually comforted me. Reminded me that I’d done good. I’d gotten out.
Well, kinda.
And now my stupid ass decision to let the fucking Hell Raisers in the front door had put Case in trouble. Worse than trouble. She was in danger.
Fuck me.
The girl was far too old to be my daughter but damn it, she was family. I loved her like a little sister. A feisty, pain in the ass, worrying me to the bone, little sister.
She’d broken my heart the day I found her, standing out in the rain like a half-drowned puppy. I’d recognized myself in the girl’s sheer determination to survive, and the look of utter desolation in her beautiful, sad eyes.
The stubborn pride too.
I’d taken her in and never looked back.
And I was going to fucking protect her!
The only thing keeping me sane was the fact that I knew Connor was an up and up guy. He was a boy scout and a cowboy rolled into one. Plus, I’d seen the look in his eyes when he talked about promising her he’d protect me.
He was gonzo.
Finished.
A marked man.
Wherever Casey was, I was pretty sure she had him wrapped around her cute little finger.
I hoped she was making him suffer. Didn’t matter though. The man owed me an explanation.
And I wanted to see her. Know she was safe.
Plus, the man had my damn dog and cats! The house had been so quiet last night. I didn’t like it.
Knowing there was an unmarked vehicle out front hadn’t helped much either. And that everyone in the damn state knew I was being watched by the Feds.
I popped the top off a beer and took a deep pull. I was tempted to have something stronger but hell, I needed my wits about me. Besides, beer was pretty much like water to me at this point in my life.
Oh yeah. I’d been a bad boy growing up. Very bad.
But I’d spent years trying to make up for it. To do something good. To erase the memories that haunted me to this very fucking day.
It was early, just after the lunch crowd thinned out. Normal folks came in here for the insanely good barbecue. My own personal secret recipe.
But I was not expecting Shane, the Raisers’ new VP to come waltzing in here in broad fucking daylight. The smug bastard held up his hands and opened his jacket to show me he was unarmed.
I scowled as he sauntered up to the bar like he owned the place. He was too pretty by far. And he’d come out of nowhere just a few years ago, rising up through the ranks like something I’d never seen.
“The fuck do you want.”
He smiled, showing perfectly straight teeth. The fucker was a college boy, and he’d definitely seen an orthodontist or two. The guy might be covered in tats but something about him screamed rich suburbia.
How the hell someone like him ending up riding with someone like Dante was beyond me.
The rumor was, Shane was ass-balls crazy. Fearless. The man had apparently driven his bike off the roof of a drug store onto a big rig. He’d done the whole stunt on a dare.