Club Justice (9 page)

Laying out a little black dress for her and a silk dress shirt and black Levi’s for Zeke, Ginny stretched. It had been a long week. As much as she loved to cook for her husband and sons, she was glad Zeke had agreed to dinner out. She couldn’t remember the last time they had went out to a nice restaurant, their own beloved bar and grill exempt. Smiling, she strolled into the master bathroom only to stop short. Leaning her shoulder against the doorjamb, she drank in the sight of her husband. Six-foot-three, head tilted back, he stood under the rain-head, water streaming over silvering hair and broad shoulders. Following the waters progress, her eyes trailed down his back, admiring the mighty dragon ink that covered the expanse, down to the muscular swell of his fine ass and corded thighs. Twenty years hadn’t diminished the pure power that radiated off this man. 

As if feeling her stare, he opened his pale eyes to meet hers. Reading the desire as clearly as a book, he smiled and crooked his finger. Shoving off the jamb Ginny held his gaze. Loosening the tie on her robe, she let it slither down her body to pool on the floor. His interest was obvious. Crossing the cool tiles in a seductive prowl, she slipped into the large shower. Zeke stepped toward her, but she stopped him with a little shake of her head. Picking up the soap, she lathered her hands before reaching for his tempting pectorals. 

Zeke let out a groan as her palms brushed across his nipples, sending a jolt of lust straight to his groin. Ignoring her earlier refusal, he wrapped her in his arms, gripping her heart shaped ass in big paws to pull her close. His hard cock stabbed her in the belly, drawing a giggle, but also prompting her soapy hands to wrap around its girth. The squeezing, milking motion of her talented fingers nearly brought him to his knees. A rueful grin curved his lips. This wasn’t going to last long. 

Lifting her to sit on the wide ledge among the soaps and shampoos, he chuckled remembering the dawning look on the carpenter’s face when he had supplied a visual reference for the shelf’s exact height during construction. The man had smiled the whole time he tore the seat out and redid it. Nudging Ginny’s legs apart, Zeke stepped up between them, hands molding one full breast. Cupping the nape of her neck, his lips covered hers, swallowing her low moan as he pushed into her. 

Heels dug into his ass as her body sheathed him. He loved the flex of her nails in his back. There wasn’t much he didn’t love about this woman. Hell, at the moment he couldn’t think of a thing. Pressing deep into her, he reveled in the tight heat of her body. Hands moving back to her hips he picked up the pace, sliding almost out of her before driving back home. Soft, breathless cries tumbled from her lips and she arched into his thrusts. Reaching back, her hands found the perfectly placed towel rings. Fingers wrapping tight around the metal as she gave her body over to him. Arms stretched overhead, long legs secure around his waist, chest heaving, and head thrown back in pleasure, she was a vision of beauty. His roar bounced off the shower walls threatening to deafen them both even as her body clamped around him, her back bowing, lips parted in a silent scream.

Heart thundering in his ears, Zeke rocked Ginny in his arms. Legs still tight around his waist, she clung to him, coming slowly down from her euphoric high. When her body relaxed, legs slipping down his hips, he pulled her off the ledge, moving them both to stand under the water. His big hands were gentle as he soaped her pliant body. 

“You get better with age, baby,” she whispered, taking the soap from his hands to return the favor.

“You ain’t so bad yourself, my love,” he rumbled. 

“If you want to eat tonight we better move our asses. As it is, I could crawl between the sheets and make a night of dessert.”

Zeke’s stomach grumbled on cue.

“Not happening, woman. I keep telling you man can’t live on sex alone no matter how fervently we pray. Shake that ass.”

Ginny squealed as Zeke smacked the anatomy in question and stepped out of the shower with a wink.

Zeke stroked a hand over the curve of Ginny’s ass as they waited for their table, admiring the way she filled out the skimpy black garment.

“It was your decision, big man. Dinner first and then dessert,” she whispered saucily.

“Thank God I had an appetizer before we came or we would have to visit that little couch in the ladies room.”

Ginny’s sexy laugh filled the lobby as she recalled vividly just how he knew this restaurant had a chaise in the ladies room.

“Beast!”

Zeke just grinned, loving the husky quality of her voice and her genuine happiness. 

“Mr. and Mrs. Brawer…right this way,” the maître de said smoothly.

Waving the man aside, Zeke held Ginny’s chair for her, drawing a raised brow and a bright smile from his wife.

“I can be a gentleman when need be,” he grumbled, taking his chair.

“I have to admit you clean up well, baby.” 

“You look smoking tonight, Mrs. Brawer. Those boots make me horny.”

“Everything makes you horny, but if you are a good boy, maybe I will leave them on for dessert,” she said in a throaty purr, turning a leg out to show case her over-the-knee boots.

“The chances of you making it back to the bedroom in that outfit are slim and none. If I were you, I would count my blessings if we make it inside the front door.”

“Twenty years, four pregnancies, stretch marks, gravity, and you still want this?” 

“Baby, you ain’t never been more beautiful,” Zeke rumbled. 

Spinning away with the cheesecake balanced precariously, Ginny batted at Zeke’s hands. 

“You paid twenty bucks for this cheesecake. At least let me set it down before you jump me,” she teased, sashaying into their kitchen. 

“You can have your dessert after I have mine, woman,” Zeke growled, crowding her to lean over the counter.

A great equalizer, the heeled boots allowed Ginny to bend comfortably, the short dress displaying her long, lean thighs to perfection. The caress of her husband’s hands replaced the whisper of silk across her ass. She squirmed, a moan tumbling from her lips as he teasingly see-sawed her thong, the lace grating across her throbbing clit. Pressing back into him, she rubbed against the ridge of his arousal, silently begging him to fill her. An entire evening of verbal foreplay had her wet and ready. 

Leaning over her back, Zeke nibbled on her nape. The cool metal of his belt buckle against her heated skin drew a shiver and her nipples pebbled uncomfortably. In tune with her body, his hands moved inside the plunging neckline to free her breasts from their confinement, strumming the hard nubs with callused thumbs until she whimpered. Pinching lightly, he tugged, extending her nipples and grinding against her ass until she rocked between pain and need. 

The grate of his zipper was music to her ears. Peeling the scrap of lace down her thighs, he placed the head of his cock between her puffy lips and slowly split her open. Trying to spread her legs wider to accommodate the intrusion, she found her feet bracketed by his. Body stretching as he filled her, Ginny panted for breath, long fingers wrapping around the edge of the breakfast bar. A yelp barked from her raw throat as he pulled out and slammed back home, spearing her cervix. 

Hands firm on her hips, Zeke controlled the pace, long, slow thrusts building the tension. The slap of skin on skin and the rasp of their breath sounded through the kitchen. The urgent mewl of Ginny’s moans made his hips snap harder, picking up until he slammed into the tight sheath of her body. His head falling back in bliss, a low growl seemed to start at his toes. A strangled scream tore from her lips, her body tightening around him, ripping the last vestige of control away. His primal bellow of release rang unchecked through the house.

Ginny drug her forehead off the counter, her mother’s ears perking at the sound of voices from the basement.

“The boys,” she gasped.

Straightening with a groan of understanding, Zeke staggered back. Grabbing the cheesecake, Ginny hurried for the bedroom on wobbly legs with a conspiratorial wink and a giggled, 

“Grab forks.” 

“Dad?” sounded from the stairwell as Zeke secured his pants and grabbed a couple forks from the dishwasher.

“Unless it is an emergency, go away,” he told their youngest, brushing past the teenager and heading for the master bedroom.

“It’s their anniversary. I told you to leave them alone,” Rhys hissed from the bottom of the stairs. 

Zeke chuckled and shut the bedroom door on the conversation. Turning, his gaze landed on Ginny, sprawled seductively on the bed, a small gift bag swinging from her fingertips. 

“Great minds think alike,” he mumbled, tossing the forks on the bed and retrieving the gift wrapped box from his nightstand before he sank down beside her. 

Spotting the same store’s seal on the wrapping paper, Ginny giggled,

“I guess so. Happy anniversary, babe.”

She played with the seal, watching Zeke open his gift through long lashes. She had bought the damn thing three months ago and waiting had about killed her. The surprise and pleasure on his rugged features was well worth the wait.

“I love it, baby,” he mumbled, leaning over for a quick kiss before turning his attention back to the platinum money clip. His thumb ran over the Lords of Mayhem MC dragon emblem gracing one side before flipping it in his fingers to admire the Harley Davidson logo on the other. “It’s perfect.”

Smiling smugly, Ginny ran a nail under the tape, easily popping open the jewelry box in her hand. Her eyes widened, breath catching in her throat as she stared at the diamond ring in awe.

“Jesus Christ,” she breathed.

“Not quite,” Zeke said, his voice husky. “I love you, Gin. It’s way past time I put something on your finger that gives others at least an idea of how much.

Knowing how her husband felt about tears of any kind, Ginny swallowed the lump in her throat and held out the box to him. Her fingers trembled as he removed her wedding ring and slid the new one into place. When he started to put the old one in the box, she stopped him, taking it to slide it onto another finger. 

“I still want it with me,” she tried to explain. 

Giving her hand a squeeze, Zeke leaned in to kiss her soundly before clearing the wrappings away and opening the cheesecake box.

“NOW you can have your dessert.”

Laughing, Ginny handed him a fork, not bothering to cut the creamy confection before she dug in. Clinking their forks together, she murmured,

“To another twenty.”

Chapter Nine

Tearing through the stack of files like a kid on Christmas, a slow smile spread across Kramer’s face. It had taken longer than expected to find someone able, and willing, to provide names for the leather clad riff-raff Brawer surrounded himself with off duty, but persistence and bribery had finally paid off. While nothing had stuck to the slick detective over the years, the same couldn’t be said of some of his Lords of Mayhem brethren. Even his lippy old lady had an assault misdemeanor in her file. Digging for a fresh legal pad, he started to jot notes, his mind whirling with names, aliases, and charges as he struggled to draw connections to Brawer.

Spreading the files out like a jigsaw puzzle, he let his eyes roam over them seeking the corner pieces. Military records jumped out at him. Brawer had been in the Marines before joining the academy, as had Samuel “Sambo” Boscelli and Liam “Bowie” Cormac. A quick search showed all three of them had served in the same platoon. A sneer twisted his lips. What was the likelihood the Jarheads still took orders from their Sergeant? The old saying was, “Once a Marine, always a Marine.”

Scanning the remaining files, Alex Reaper was the only other Lord with a military background. Reaper had spent five years in the Army. Since then, his rap sheet read like an encyclopedia of misdemeanors. It looked like he had gotten off light on more than one occasion. Kramer made a note to pull the files to crosscheck the officers and judges handling the cases.

Comparing rap sheets, it just kept getting better. Tommy “Crux” Croston and David “Taz” Travers had both done hard time. Croston serving seven years in New York’s Sing Sing and Travers ten in California’s famed San Quentin. In addition, Boscelli had served six years in Illinois for arson.

Surprisingly, the rest of the crew, Cormac, Josey “Tech” Stewart, Miles “Mox” Sampson, and Brawer’s own brat, Rhys, were clean. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Kramer leaned back in his chair. More importantly, nothing here led back to Brawer. The rocking of his office chair became precarious as he pondered his next move in this elaborate chess game. It all seemed to come back to financials. A money trail seemed his best bet. Even the partner’s widow had questioned the money. Jealousy, perhaps, but the best chance he had at the moment to nail Brawer. He made a note to pull whatever strings necessary to examine the books for not only The Lantern, but the couple of businesses ran by Zeke’s cronies in Trinity Falls. Someone was bound to get sloppy somewhere.

Chapter Ten

Bowie gave a disdainful sniff, looking down the bridge of his nose at the puny pencil pusher making himself at home in the Handlebars and Hot Rods office. They could feed him any line of bullshit they wanted, but he knew this audit was another stab in the dark aimed at Zeke. He made a mental note to ask Zeke again exactly what he had done to the Internal Affair’s rat to piss him off so bad that he chased him into retirement. This vendetta was taking on epic proportions.

“What exactly is it you do here, Mr. Cormac?”

“As the name suggests, we customize, restore and repair motorcycles and classic cars.”

“Are these all of your records, Mr. Cormac?”

Bowie swallowed any number of smart-ass replies dancing on the end of his tongue and nodded toward the file cabinets, thankful now for his wife’s anal bookkeeping.

“This year and the last two are there and the remainder is in file cabinets in the basement. We have files dating back to the first day we opened,” he said, wishing she were here now to deal with this shit. He had already put in the call.