Angels and Ashes (Heaven's Rejects MC Book 2) (21 page)

I thought for a split second that maybe that kiss would be the turning point in my attraction to Darcy, but all hopes of that was obliterated as soon as she muttered my ex-wife’s name. I know it was a heat of the moment question, but feeling what I did when my lips pressed into hers and then hearing Maj’s name killed the mood for me. Who am I kidding to think that maybe I have a chance with her? She is still in love with a ghost, and frankly, that alone should deter me from my conquest. He was my fucking brother, and I shouldn’t feel the things I feel when I see her and that perfect ass walk in and out of a room. I shouldn’t want to watch her every move, feel her writhe underneath me as I fuck her senseless, and I damn well shouldn’t want to know what it’s like to feel her brand of love.

Get a grip, man. I know you thought this was a good idea, but hit the fucking abort button while you can.

It’s late evening by the time we pull into the clubhouse parking lot, and as soon as the bike’s kickstand is down, Darcy bolts off of it like her hair is on fire and rushes in through the clubhouse door leaving me alone with my dangerous thoughts. I sigh and swing my legs over the bike when a slow clap echoes off the building. I jerk my head toward the noise and find Hero and Ratchet with shit-eating grins plastered on their faces as they clap.

“I take it things didn’t go well out there, Boss?” Hero prods.

“No fucking shit. What was your first clue? How pissed off she looked or the fact she ran away from me like I was Typhoid Mary?”

“I was going to go with the sprint to the door, but I’m thinking that you being a relationship patient zero seems more likely,” Ratchet chimes in while snuffing out his cigarette. “You do look a little pale and sickly.”

“Keep cutting up, assholes. I see some bikes that need polishing and two officers that look like they’re in need of a prospect crash course.”

Both of them laugh at my gruffness, not giving a damn that I am serious as shit on a hot summer day about my threat.

“Relax, Boss. No need to take out pussy-whipped frustrations on us. Seems to me if I were in your shoes that there’s only a couple of options to go with,” Hero says.

“And what would those be exactly?”

“Fuck her out of your system or just fuck her.”

“You go from one spectrum to the other, don’t you, Hero?”

He shrugs as Ratchet offers him one of his smokes from his pocket, but Hero waves him off. Ratchet pops one out and sticks it in his mouth before retrieving the lighter from his pocket and lighting the cigarette.

“He has a point, Raze,” Ratchet says, taking a drag. “I mean, we can all tell from a mile away that you got a hard-on for the angry bitch. Either stick it in or stick it in someone else. Seems to be the only cure for the disease that’s ailing you.”

“Why the fuck should I take advice from the guy who can’t seem to keep the girl he wants from trying to flee to another state?”

Shit. I shouldn’t have said that.

Hero winces as Ratchet grimaces and storms off into the clubhouse.

“Low blow, Raze. You know he doesn’t know how to deal with his shit with Ricca.”

“I know. I feel like an asshole now,” I say with guilt stabbing me right in the fucking gut. Ratchet is far from a stable man with normal relationships, and it’s not for me to judge how he manages his love life. “I need to go talk to Darcy, and then I’ll make it up to him later.”

“Mend the fences, Raze. Don’t let the club fall apart because you don’t know how to handle your shit,” Hero retorts before disappearing toward the garage on the back of the property.

I yank on the heavy back door and step into the room while music rattles the walls. The fact that a party is going on isn’t a surprise to me because of our absence and the need for some of the guys to cut loose while we have some down time. I pop my head into Voodoo’s lair as he feverishly types away on his computer.

“Anything new to report?”

He jerks back with a start and removes the headphones around his neck before choking himself.

“For a big man, you sure are a quiet fucker.”

“A skill you learn when you have kids and naptime, brother. What do you have for me?”

He returns his attention back to his computer and clicks on a few icons which pulls up two live video feeds on the house we raided in Tijuana. The place looks quiet, and the motion detectors aren’t registering any movement.

“When did you put up surveillance cameras?” I question.

“When you were downstairs playing hide and seek in the dark. Figured it would be easier to watch it ourselves instead of relying on the somewhat questionable information from the snitches we put to work.”

I walk into his room and slap him on his shoulder in thanks.

“So, since we’ve been back, it’s been quiet. A little too quiet if you ask me for having a cut house in the basement.”

“Maybe they’ve got the federales on their tails.” I offer up as an explanation.

“Nah, I don’t think that’s the case,” he says, spinning around in his chair and narrowly missing running over my foot with the wheel. He slides the unfolded map that I retrieved from the house and smooths it out on the table behind us. “See here,” he says while pointing at as space on the map. “According to Google maps, this is just a wide open space, but on this map, it has a house drawn on it. I’ve looked at all the locations on this baby, and this is the only one that I can’t find an actual structure on the satellite map.”

“You think it’s their base of operations?”

“It’s got to be something important if it’s not showing up on a satellite map that according to online records was just updated a few months ago.”

Studying the map, I mentally trace the lines and estimate the location in question to be about two hours east of Tijuana near El Diablo. The name sure does fit if this is their hideout.

“I’ll send a couple of guys down to check it out. See what they find.”

“Sounds good, Boss. I’ll keep digging into what I can find in Mexico’s shitty land purchase records.”

“Do I even want to know how you accessed those?”

He just smiles before he turns back to his wall of computer screens without saying a word. Remind me not to fuck with him. Leaving Voodoo to his work, I pop my head out into the main room and call for Thrasher and Irons to follow me to my office. I give them their marching orders on the way and send them off to V for additional briefing on the equipment he’s sending with them. Those are some of the best men we could have picked up from a disbanded club. They’re loyal, they’re tough, and they don’t ask questions. I wish I had more like them some days.

Just as I am about to continue on my quest to apologize to Darcy for the kiss we shouldn’t have shared, I walk past my office and hear rustling. I step closer to the door and notice that the once locked door is now cracked with light scruffs on the wooden frame from being forced open. I inch the door open slightly only to find Darcy rummaging through a filing cabinet behind my desk. Her tight ass moving in the air while she thumbs through the files. I open the door more and slide into the room quietly without disturbing her search.

“Can you explain to me why the fuck you broke into my private office?” I yell.

She jumps with a start and quickly slams the filing cabinet door shut. As she turns to face me, her features are racked with fear. Her eyes are wide, knowing that I caught her red-handed snooping in my office.

“Michael, I—” she stammers before I raise my hand and hush her pathetic excuses. I know why she’s in here, and it pisses me off that she’s going behind my back and stealing the information I have tightly locked in the floor safe is the best way to discover the truth. Stealing from a man is one thing, but stealing from an entire MC is punishable in far worse ways than she could ever imagine. Had she pulled this shit at another club, she’d have died for her attempted thievery.

“Don’t give me some bullshit answer, Darcy. I know why you’re in here so can the sob story.”

I step closer to her, watching while she backpedals and circles around to the front of my desk. I keep moving, matching her step by step until I make it to my black, leather deckchair, and take a seat in it. Her face is unreadable as she steps to the front of my desk, laying both of her hands on the wood and staring me point-blank in the face.

“We need to talk,” she states matter-of-factly.

“I’d say we do. How about you park that sexy ass of yours down in the chair behind you instead of you trying to ruffle your feathers in a dominance display you’re not going to win?”

Her eyes narrow with the first readable emotion, but she stays where she is.

“It’s fine by me if you wanna stay standing like that since I’ve got quite the view. Nice tits, by the way.”

Her hands tighten into balls while she jerks away from the table and slams down into the chair. Her arms move to tightly cross at her chest, blocking them from my sight. I make her stew in silence while she waits for me to say something. With each passing second, the tension and temperature of the room rises only making the situation more intense. Her huffs and puffs make the hair on my arms stand at attention along with my dick. Each glare stiffens it further, and it’s almost to the point of being uncomfortable.

“You gonna talk or am I going to be waiting here until I figure out? I’m not a good guesser, darlin’.”

“Why?” she exhales.

“Why what? There’s a lot of things that could be involved in that answer, and one in particular that I should be asking you in return.”

“Why didn’t you tell me my husband was murdered and that he was a cheating bastard?”

I nearly choke on her words.
Jagger? A cheater? No fucking way.
That man was loyal to her like she was a fucking goddess who demanded his worship and tokens. I never saw him take a single look at any woman after he met her. Why the fuck would he cheat on her, and where the hell did she even come up with that cock and bull idea?

“I already told you, Darcy. Just knowing he was murdered is about as far as you’re going to go with this discussion. Now for the second part of that, you have to be fucking crazy to think he’d cheat on you.”

Her eyes soften momentarily before she returns to the coldness of a resting bitch face. “I have proof of his infidelity.”

“That so? Like what?”

“Much like you and that packet, I think I’m going to play that information a little closer to my chest.”

I shrug my shoulders at her as rage weighs heavily on her face. Whoever fed her this kind of information sure as fuck did not know the man she was married to. I stand from my chair and circle the desk, stopping in front of her. She seems so small as I tower over her sitting form, but just when I think I might be winning the dominance fight, she puffs out that chest of hers again like a fucking proud peacock. Goddamnit if that doesn’t turn me on more.

“Listen, Darcy. I get it. I dropped a bomb on you that Jagger didn’t die in an accident, but that doesn’t give you the right to break into my office. You’re still mourning his loss, and I get that more than anyone else in this place, but I’m not the one who ordered him to do what he did that got him killed. I was just as blindsided as you were.

“Blindsided, my ass. You are just trying to cover your fucking tracks because whatever bullshit the club got him involved in got him killed. You’re too much of an arrogant asshole to admit that this is your fault.”

In one swift movement, I push off the desk and jerk her from the chair. She tries to protest the contact, but I grab the back of her neck and slam my mouth against hers. Her hands push hard against my chest, but her lips crash harder against mine. Her arms become slack as I whip us around and shove her ass against my desk. She pulls herself away from me and slaps me hard across my face. Her swollen lips open to protest yet again, but I jerk her face back to mine.

“Just shut the fuck up,” I murmur as I pull her back toward me. Her lips part as I feel her tongue slide inside of my mouth.

Her hands slide down my chest as I feel her fingers fumbling against my belt. She pops it open and pulls the belt away from my jeans, tossing it behind her. Her fingers begin to unzip my fly, but I use my free hand and stop her. As much as she’s fighting this, she wants it just as badly as I do.

“You sure this is what you want?” I question. “This isn’t something you can take back after you drop my fly. As soon as my dick is free, I’ll be sinking it into that drenched pussy of yours, and I won’t stop until we’re finished.”

Without a word, she unzips my jeans and kneels as she slides them down over my thighs along with my boxers. My cock springs to life in front of her face as her eyes grow wide. Either she hasn’t seen a ten-inch cock before or she’s analyzing it like a fucking engineer on how it’s going to fit, but I’m good with both of those scenarios. She licks her lips and moves closer toward my cock, but I pull her up and spin her stomach first on the desk.

I hadn’t even noticed until now that she had changed her clothes after the ride. Her perky little ass is covered in a brightly-colored pair of those legging things woman seem to be into these days. While on most women they aren’t flattering but on Darcy, those fucking things are a second skin and for me, easily removable. Fisting the waistband of her leggings, I peel them from her body and slide them down to her knees before positioning myself between her legs.

A hiss escapes my lips when I discover that her pussy is bare underneath the leggings. Maybe these fucking things aren’t so bad after all. Her pussy is gleaming from her arousal, and I can’t help myself as I run a finger through her wetness, making her jolt from the motion. Her body is ready and that’s fucking hot as hell since foreplay is overrated in this kind of situation. Grabbing a condom from the back pocket of my jeans and slipping it on, I position my cock outside of her entrance before sinking myself deeply inside of her. Her walls tighten around my cock to the point her body shoves me out and makes me thrust farther inside of her again. Her hands outstretch and grip the side of my desk as I reach up and grab her hair, wrapping it around my fist while increasing the speed of my rhythm.