Blazing Hot Bad Boys Boxed Set - A MC Romance Bundle (63 page)

CHAPTER SIX

Their union this time was slow and deliberate, but very electric. Every cell in their flesh was orgasm-sensitive and the slightest bit of contact was a jolt of pleasure. He slid in and out of her in a calculated grind, the edge of bliss nowhere in sight until it turned for them finally. They began that ascent to the age-old summit. Blanche pumped against him mindlessly, powerfully. Her orgasm came back to life tenfold as she clamped against his extraordinarily stiff and generous erection. They were both writhing with the ultimate pleasure and crumpling, drained from the same.

They dozed. The urgent ringing of his landline telephone awakened Jason. It was one of his guys, a member of the Seven Devils. The injured motorcyclist needed a blood transfusion and all of the guys were going down to donate. Jason got up to do the same.

"Are you going to just leave me here?" Blanche asked in disbelief. "I realize your friend-"

"He needs me right now. You're fine," Jason decided.

"I am fine for now, but you don't realize my whole life is at the boarding house. My bike is there. Give me a ride. I can check out in the morning if we still feel like I should be here. I can join you in the morning," she said.

Jason's eyes narrowed, "I will take you back over if you promise to get your stuff and come right back. I am not going to sleep knowing you are at the boarding house while Norte Mexicalis are pissed off at you."

Blanche put a hand on him, moved by his concern. "I will be fine. You go take care of your friend."

They showered and instead of lying down to sleep for the night, they dressed and went their separate ways. With great reservation and in total silence, they rode together over to Mrs. Cranston's place. Jason parked and walked her to her room. He inspected every inch. He checked under the bed and in the closet. He kissed her forehead.

Despite their very intense sex, Blanche had the feeling that whatever went on between them was over as quickly as it began. It was good that it went this way, because she needed distance from this whirlwind encounter to get her head right. She was at serious risk of going back on a deal with a powerful group of people.

She knew their business and changing her mind at this point, which would be so easy for her to do, was not acceptable. They were very vulnerable and wanted her to have as much risk at they did. You didn't just back down after being halfway in. She most definitely had to think hard. She didn't want to kill this man, but she didn't want to put her own life at risk either.

Because there was a real possibility that the Norte Mexicali members she riled could bother her in the night and because she was technically on the job, Blanche dressed in street clothes to sleep in, albeit shorts and a tank top. She was exhausted. She reclined on her bed and was just about to drift off to sleep when she heard a tremendous commotion at the entrance of the boarding house. It sounded like a herd of wild horses were trampling up the stairs.

Mrs. Cranston protested, "What the hell?"

"Move it, lady," said a male voice. Hawk.

With the lights out, Blanche deftly rolled off the top of her bed and crouched to the side. She pulled her piece out of her bag and got ready. Her door was locked and, thankfully, it was solid mahogany, as were pretty much all of the vintage constructions in the historic town. It took Hawk several tries to bust in before he had to resort to threats.

"I know who you are!" he shouted. He was drunk. He was going to blow her cover and Mrs. Cranston was now going to be a liability.

"You better calm down," Blanche warned calmly. "You remember what happened the last time we tangled."

"You best open the door or it will be worse when I do make my way in," he hollered.

Blanche double-checked the window and the distance down to the ground. Then she saw a feature she had not noticed before: a neat little box containing a coiled rope ladder.

She began chattering a false apology to cover up the sound of her raising the window. Down she climbed, with gun in hand and bags over her shoulder. She dashed to her bike, which she hoped was not sabotaged in any way, and sped off leaving Hawk screaming at the door.

If Hawk was worth his weight in salt to the Norte Mexicali, he knew by now who Blanche had left the San Juan Café with and he would find out his address. It would be unfair to bring this kind of danger back to Jason's, but it was really the only place she could go.

As fast as she could, she sped to his house, ditched her bike in the gully where she had caused the bridge to cave, and hid, not inside the house, but around back under the porch until Jason got home. Hawk would have heard her bike. If he had figured things out, he would be there. Blanche's conscience was working overtime, as she now worried about Mrs. Cranston. She should have just killed Jason the second she saw him on that bridge. Looking back, she would have made it off in time as he had.

But then she would have never experienced the most intimate, amazing encounter she had ever experienced in her life with a man. Or probably ever would. Dancing with him sexually would be one of the best memories she would ever have. Hopefully she would live long enough to truly enjoy it.

She was so, so tired. It was tempting to put her head down and sleep. Blanche saw a flicker of white like a lantern's reflection, but heard no sound. She was certain it was definitely Norte Mexicali sneaking up. As she predicted, they followed her to Jason's. She crossed her fingers that he would safely remain at the hospital until they left or she took care of them. She was in such a mess now. If she had to take these guys out, she couldn't go back. She would have to jump ship, for sure.

Blanche heard a rustle of footsteps kicking through the shrubs around the house. Footsteps clunked on the deck above her, but they seemed awfully light. There was the distinct clink of keys. Unless Hawk was tiptoeing or had the keys to Jason's place, it was not him. She tried to spy through the slats of wood.

Nope, whoever it was it was not a man. There was no other woman in the Norte Mexicali that would be sent here for her, but a lady friend of Jason's who had the keys to his place would explain why no engine noise. She was surprising him. Jason had a visitor. Little did the visitor realize, she was surprising Blanche, too.

So now, Blanche was underneath the porch of the man she slept with on a whim, like an idiot. She was armed and exhausted, and now a major third wheel. God, she just wanted to sleep. She would do just that. She slept in many a hairy place on stakeout for her targets. She couldn't sleep out on the bare damp earth; it was dangerous. She knew the temperature in the foothills would cool considerably. She had to sleep in the grass.

She rolled out silently from underneath the porch with the intention of finding a place to camp when she heard the brazen engine sound of bikes around the gully. Blanche stood on the side of Jason's house and spied. It was Jason and two other riders. She sucked in her breath at the wondrous spectacle of his handsome shadowy figure in the moonlight. He was coming home after a show of loyalty to his friend and he would find his woman there. That would be that. The only thing she knew was that she wasn't going to kill this man. She had feelings for him. She would camp out and, after a little bit of rest, she would leave. Leave him behind. She looked over her shoulder to the deck and mercifully spied a blanket on a lounge chair. She quickly darted to retrieve it and planned to head for the brush, but so many things rolled through her mind. Blanche wept and fell asleep.

CHAPTER SEVEN

She must have slept hard. She woke up well after the sun. Something seemed to wake her, not just the fact that she slept long. She could smell coffee. Instinctively, she looked around. There, sitting on the ground not too far from her, was Jason. He was just watching her, with a question on his face. She was so embarrassed, but when he held up her gun, she was alarmed. He wasn't going to take a bullshit answer for that.

"Yours?" he asked with a scold on his face.

"Can I have a sip of your coffee?" she asked quietly.

Jason snapped, "Dammit! Do not evade me any further! I want answers now!" he growled.

A man and a woman stepped out onto the deck. Blanche saw that it was probably the woman who had let herself into the house. Clearly they were a couple. As she realized that, she also realized that she had been jealous of the woman. She naturally assumed that she had been there to see Jason and she was completely wrong.

"Tell me why you are outside in my yard like this?" he hissed. The two on the deck had stopped their chitchat and were gawking.

Blanche tried to skirt around the issue before saying, "Hawk broke into the boarding house. I got away and I came back here. I know this is not going to make sense-" she found herself struggling with emotion.

"Okay," Jason said, obviously sympathetic.

"I got scared and I was hiding," she said.

"Okay," he said again and he handed her his coffee for a sip. "You're filthy," he scolded gently. "Come," he said, "take a bath."

"I don't feel comfortable with your friends here. I am going to hop on my bike and go. I don't think Hawk is going to be a problem." She reached for her gun, but he retracted it.

"No, ma'am," he said sternly. "If you want to go back and get your things, me and the guys will go with. Get yourself together. I am not letting you go off by yourself." He stood up and took the gun with him.

Now, besides feeling foolish, Blanche felt ashamed. He was taking care of her no matter what and if he only knew what brought her to Gold Creek, he definitely wouldn't be trying to shelter her.

She walked into the house formulating a bunch of different scenarios as to how she could explain herself without hurting him and with as much damage control as possible between the two them. No way could she figure would leave them still even friends, but her agenda took a back seat as soon as she stepped inside.

They were discussing the fallen biker. They were talking Norte Mexicali cartel. Then there was the dreaded mention of El Salvador. Jason and the Seven Devils were talking plans to guard against the arrival of El Salvador.

"Dump his body in Gold Creek Bay," said one rider. "Then have a town picnic. I know I will have a huge appetite after one less evil incarnate is gone from our lives."

Every once in a while, Jason would look over to her and send her a scolding glare. It was as if he knew she was affiliated with the Cartel. Maybe it was her imagination. She was sure he didn't know that she was, in fact, El Salvador. Finally, she walked briskly across the room to go upstairs to take a bath as he suggested.

Jason excused himself and followed her. "Hey," he said. Blanche picked up the pace away from him. She tried her best to quickly get in behind the bathroom door and close it behind her. "Hey," he said as he looked at her again with a mixture of compassion and disappointment.

Blanche was overrun with emotion; she was choking on it, "I can't talk right now."

Jason gently lifted her shirt over her head and leaned towards the tub to draw a bath. He spilled soap bubbles into the steaming water. Blanche felt guilty to join the pleasures of his warm and gentle services, but they were scrumptious.

Despite being outside, she had been so exhausted and she was accustomed to sleeping in odd places, she had slept fairly soundly, but as she moved around, she felt a little stiff. The tub was delicious and soothing as she sunk in.

She leaned back, following his lead, letting him wash her hair. His fingers in her hair, stroking her scalp as her body lazed against the porcelain. The tips of her glistening breasts hardened. In an almost out of body experience, she heard herself moan. He reached between her legs and penetrated her with his fingers.

Any shred of shame or guilt for being sent to kill him vanquished and was taken over by a pure animalistic drive to be taken by him.

Jason lowered his mouth to hers, his lips were sweet and soft and his tongue firm and hot. She opened her mouth to receive him as his fingers pleasured her erotically.

She gripped his shoulder as her arousal shook her so. "I need you," she said.

Instead of lifting her to his bed as she had hoped, he kissed her on the top of her head, chastely. He took her head in his hands. "I will give you some privacy," he said softly.

"But- " she pleaded.

"Take your bath," he said and he left her.

Blanche quickly did that. She released the standing water and rinsed off under the showerhead. She dressed and opted to say as little as possible as she rejoined everyone else downstairs. Despite withholding his affections to her, he had set a place at the table for her. A yogurt parfait with fruit and a crumble of oatmeal cookie waited. He poured her a cup of piping hot coffee. It was delicious and, despite her sadness that they could not have met under different circumstances, the meal brought a faint smile to her.

They talked around her about Seven Devils business and the rider who had been injured. The injured rider's name was named Barry and his bike was notoriously customized. It was easy to pick his off of a lot, which is what the Norte Mexicali had done. They cut the break line and eventually the bike failed. Blanche got to hear the other side of the story about Norte Mexicali's interaction with Gold Creek. And she got her answer to their interest in the sleepy town.

There was gold. The small population had decided, legally, that no matter how the gold was obtained, they would split the proceeds. They basically formed a legal entity listing all the residents at the time as part of the "company." Norte Mexicali members learned about the gold when one of the townsfolk, a hopeless addict trying to save his own neck after coming up short for the drug money he owed, threw the town under the proverbial bus.

Norte Mexicali wanted Gold Creek's gold. Jason Fowler, the unofficial mayor and captain of the Seven Devils Motorcycle Club – basically the militia that protected the town against the unwanted interest – had been one step ahead of the Cartel's malice.

Malice that Blanche Herrera had been sent to finish, but not anymore. After she heard the whole thing, she made a personal vow to now work against the people who hired her, no matter what the cost. Then if she lived, she was getting out of the business for good.

One of the Seven Devils remarked about her gun, "Wow," he said to Jason.

"Not mine," Jason said in a short answer. "Our guest's."

All eyes were uncomfortably on Blanche. Most difficult to take was Jason's.

"Hey, let's go take a ride over to Denise Cranston's and check on the whereabouts of the other visitors. I think Dana and Rick should have picked them up by now." Blanche guessed that those were the names of the sheriff and/or deputy. "If they had trouble, we definitely would have heard."

Jason's statement made her wonder. "Did you hear about what went down at the boarding house last night?" she asked.

"I did. Denise was able to lock herself away and place the call," he said, with that now permanent look of disappointment on his face.

"So you knew before I told you, then," she said.

"Yes," he said sparingly. "I was just very worried because I didn't know where you were. After our friend has been hospitalized and then our other very good friend terrorized and then you-" he censored himself. "It wasn't great looking out and seeing you laying in the rough, but I was glad that everything turned out okay. I mean that you are unharmed. Where's your bike?"