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Slipping out of the dollhouse, Nikita zipped her leather jacket then pulled back her hair into a ponytail. The keys in her pocket jingled as she walked toward the motorcycles lining the parking lot. Swiping the keyring hadn’t been too difficult but finding the matching bike proved to be a bit of a challenge. Nevertheless, ten minutes later, she straddled the lime green Kawasaki and eased out into the dark night. She’d be back before anyone noticed their bike was missing.
Opening the engine, she grinned at the screaming sound it released into the silence. She didn’t bother to stop for the blinking yellow light at the intersection. Instead, she cranked the throttle, her body vibrating as the speed increased. This was what she’d been needing.Screw sex. I’ll take the motorcycle ride any day.
The road curved to the left and she expertly leaned into the turn. A car passed in the opposite direction, the lights mere dots at her speed. Glancing at the speedometer, she smirked and waited until she hit one hundred miles per hour before she let up on the gas. One thing her childhood taught her was to respect motorcycles but also have fun with them, and with her FBI job focused on MCs, she had the opportunity to do exactly that whenever the chance presented.
The cool air crept to her fingers, and she swore silently. She didn’t have her usual gear, and if she stayed out much longer, her fingers would be useless soon. Slowing at the top of a bluff, she stopped and noticed the twinkling lights of Snowshoe. The sleepy city lay perfectly safe between the Rocky Mountains.
Kevlar is down there somewhere.
She swallowed her first urge to drive down and find him at the Macha clubhouse. The research she’d done on Macha told her they were a unique kind of club. They weren’t on the news much for any reason and they stayed off the FBI’s radar. That alone told her they were different. Macha had beef with the Greenback Cutthroats. When the bikers came head-to-head at the bar, no one batted an eye. The reason behind their hatred wasn’t as clear. That was more common with clubs. MCs kept secrets. Sometimes they were small ones, but in her experience, they were horrific and likely to get someone killed.
Nikita shifted on the bike. Not thinking about Kevlar was harder when she looked down at his hometown. But she couldn’t get involved. She knew what happened in clubs. Men rarely stayed faithful to their old lady. She’d seen that plenty in Diablos and every MC she investigated as an adult.
Rubbing her hands together, she shook her head and turned the bike. By the time she arrived back at the dollhouse, her nerves would be back to normal. She could do this OP even with Kevlar in the next town over tempting her.
Chapter Nine
Kevlar
Thrusting one last time,Kevlar emptied his load into the nymph and let out a low growl. Fucking without feelings got redundant, but it was necessary to keep his mind clear. Clear of Kita.
He pulled up his pants, shirt still in place. He didn’t fully undress with the club nymphs. It was a rare occasion when he had sex with them more than once. His eyes caught sight of the woman with jet-black hair and golden eyes. But this one reminded him of Kita. If he couldn’t have Kita to himself, he’d get her out of his system another way.
“You wanna do this again?” the nymph asked, body splayed out on her bed. There was no way he’d let her into his room. That was his place to escape.
“Yeah, maybe.” He offered her a small smile. She truly was gorgeous in her own special way.But she’s not Kita.
Stepping out of the room, he nodded at Dolly, the nymph wrangler, as the men liked to tease her. She was tattooed similarly to Kita and had the same kickass attitude that turned him on. But Dolly wasn’t a nymph. Sure, she fucked the club members here and there but only at her bidding.
“Always a pleasure to see you, Kevlar,” Dolly said, sipping her cup of what smelled like Earl Grey tea. “Your pleasure.”
He didn’t reply. Instead, he took the stairs two at a time, trying to get the recent fuck off his mind. The nymph was good. Did what she was paid to do. Nothing more, nothing less. It’d helped minimally clear his thoughts. In less than an hour, he and Rubble would visit the Rusty Cantina, and he needed to be sharp.Seeing Kita won’t be a problem.He swore it to his president and brothers. He’d successfully lived through a war, so seeing his ex was nothing. He had to keep telling himself this, so it’d be true. The problem was, he didn’t believe one word.
“Have a fun day?” Brewer teased when he walked into the kitchen.
“Just as fun as yours.” Kevlar grabbed a coffee mug and filled it, grateful the dark brew was always fresh no matter what the time. “My nymph happened to mention you were having yourself a nice ménage two doors down.” Kevlar smirked at the gloating in the other man’s face.
“What can I say? I can please two women at once. It’s a gift.” Brewer lifted his cup in salute. “Dolly says you been downstairs a lot. You’re not taking over Doc’s role as fuckboy, are you?”
Kevlar recalled the recently patched Doc who, up until he fell for a Macha princess, had a reputation of fucking numerous nymphs in hearty succession.
“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.” He shook his head. “Just trying to get somebody out of my head.”
Brewer snorted. “Good luck with that.”
Kevlar offered him a cocked brow.
“Once a woman embeds in your brain, it’s nearly impossible to get her out,” the other man explained.
“Speaking from personal experience?”
“Who me?” He chuckled. “Uh, no. I don’t get attached.”
“That’s a pity.”
“It is what it is.” Brewer grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter. “Try not to do anything I wouldn’t tonight.”
Kevlar watched the other man walk through the kitchen and start chatting with Cueball. Before long, the two were playing pool, two nymphs hanging off their poles—cue for the time being.
