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One hand went to my breast, kneading and squeezing as he thrust into me. Long, deep strokes that shook the bed and touched me to my soul.
“You’re mine, baby.” He repeated the words over and over again like it was a spell he’d conjured up. Over and over as he pushed me closer and closer to the edge of everything. And when his teeth sank into the soft skin between my neck and shoulder, I fell.
Completely.
One tear slipped from the corner of my eye and I was happy I was face down on the bed, so he couldn’t see me. When a pounding knock rattled the door, I felt nothing but relief.
However temporary it turned out to be.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Cross
“The bottom line is, we have no beef with the Reckless Bastards and Ripcord thinks we might be able to help each other out.”
The Sons of Sin MC President, Gage, looked at me with a serious expression on his face. There was no bullshit posturing or anything. They knew this was serious shit, just as we did.
“I think so, too,” I admitted reluctantly. It wasn’t just Moon’s advice or gentle push, it was the right decision for the club. And having another MC’s help would increase our chances of getting out of this shit alive.
“We have a lot of balls in the air right now, but you let me know if you find anything out and I’ll do the same.”
Gage nodded, easily accepting the answer. “You really think you can take down a politician?”
I grinned. “Haven’t you been watching the news, Gage?”
“No shit?” He shot back, voice filled with awe. “In that case, I hope to talk to you soon, Cross.”
I no
dded at Gage and hopped back on my bike, eager to get back to the clubhouse. And if I was being honest, Moon too. The past week had been too hectic and we hadn’t spent as much time together as I would have liked and the fact that I wanted to spend more time with her meant I might have to start living my life again.
But I couldn’t dwell on it, not until this Roadkill and Pacheco bullshit was behind us. When I arrived at the clubhouse I had one thing on my mind, a sweet taste of Moon’s addictive mouth but it wasn’t her pretty face I saw when I walked in.
“Hey man, I got something to show you. Two things actually.” Jag met me at the door, walking beside me. “The Sun just ran a front page story outlining the corruption of Pacheco and they claim to have proof that he’s a stakeholder in the sale of underage girls.”
The shit-eating grin he wore was a goddamn welcome sight to see.
“Thank fuck some media outlets are still interested in the fucking news, right?” I took the paper from him, listening with half an ear while skimming the article. In just the course of a week they’d managed to find the one thing we couldn’t.
“Damn, they took what you sent and turned it into dynamite. Fucking dynamite, man.”
Jag dropped down at one of the tables and grinned. “They found what we couldn’t and I’m damn glad they did. Pacheco’s gotta be shittin’ in his pants right now.”
I hoped that fucker was scared shitless. “Everyone else see this?”
Gunnar and Savior nodded, Lasso shrugged and the rest gave halfhearted nods because as good as it was, it would be better if that fucker didn’t take another breath.
Ever.
“If he isn’t yet, he will be soon. I also got something from Vivi.” Jag turned the screen to me and I frowned.
“Uh, man I’m glad you got photos from your girl, but this isn’t the kind of shit you share.”
Gunnar let out a loud guffaw. “Dude we’re happy you’re getting phone sex or cybersex or whatever, but that ain’t exactly club business.”
Jag frowned and turned the image back around. It wasn’t all that bad, just plenty of cleavage, more than he probably wanted us to see. “It’s got encrypted data in it you dumb fuck. Not even her tits if you must know. You fuckers are sick.”
Gunnar let out another thunderous laugh at being able to get a rise out of calm and cool Jag. “Then turn it back around and let me look at it.”
