Queen of Clubs (Desert Sons MC Book 2) (3 page)

Jack tried to roll Tina off of him as she paused, but she braced against his turn so he relented and allowed her to remain in control. After a long, relaxing exhale, she smiled at him and began to move again.

She smiled at him as her climax washed out of her. She had felt him try to turn but she wasn’t ready to give up control just yet. She had her appetizer… now she was ready for the main course.

***

He grimaced as he bared his teeth and growled in defiance. He manhandled her breasts as he tried to push her into another orgasm. After her first climax he thought she had another coming, albeit small one, but his control was hanging by the thinnest of threads. He had twice more tried to take control of their fucking, but she had blocked him each time and clearly indicated her desire to remain on top. He growled again as he watched her impale herself on his shaft. She glowed, her skin wet from her sweat, her hair plastered to her head as tiny droplets ran down her body… making her, without a doubt, the sexiest woman he has ever had.

She was nearly out of gas. She wasn’t sure when they started, but it has been a little more than thirty minutes of hard fucking since she thought to look at the bedside clock. She had two orgasms so far, but she could feel another lurking as it called to her… and she wanted it… she wanted it badly.

“I’m about to come,” Jack gasped as he grimaced.

“No. Not yet,” she panted as she began to thrust harder, trying to pull her orgasm to her.

“I can’t hold it…” he groaned as his face twisted into a mask of pleasure and pain.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, Jack’s struggle to hold his climax excited her at a deep level. “No! Don’t come! Not yet!” she whispered as new strength flowed into her.

“Stop! You have…” he pleaded.

“No! I’m going to come! Please, don’t…” she interrupted, feeling her release coming near.

“I…” he said as he cut her off before a deep hard shudder coursed through him and he fell into a raging orgasm. But still she repeatedly slammed herself down on him. “Fuck!” he roared as she drove him into herself furiously. The pleasure of his movement within her as his essence poured forth was almost more than he could stand. “Fuck!” he roared again as his cock began to burn with pleasure so intense it bordered on painful. He grabbed her arms and pulled, trying to dislodge her from her position.

“No!” she cried as she fought free of his grasp and maintained her position while she pounded him into her. Her orgasm was right there and she wouldn’t be denied.

He couldn’t stand it any more as the pleasure became too great to bear. He gripped her by her sides and arched his back as he twisted his hips hard to the left. He cried out, a mindless sound of animalistic pleasure as he desperately tried once again to end the maddening erotic torture she was inflicting upon him. She fought him and refused to yield as she braced hard against the turn until, with a muffled cry of her own, she relented.

The strain as she held her position while Jack tried to roll her off of him, along with his cries of ecstasy, pushed her off the cliff into a mind-twisting orgasm. Unable to resist as her climax burned through her like a wildfire she was forced onto her back. She clung to him to feel his closeness, lest she be swept away in the cataclysm of her orgasm.

He held her tight as she shivered through her release. He was unable to do more as he was still awash in the aftermath of the most intense orgasm of his life, and then he felt her relax. As the tension flowed out of her body he was able to finally relax as well.

“Fuck…” he breathed into her neck, wanting to kiss her, to caress her… but unable to do more than simply hold her in his arms with his cock still deep inside of her.

They lay in each other’s arms as they panted for many long moments before he finally flopped to his side beside her. With a comical groan, she rolled over and crawled into his arms, into her favorite position, head on his chest so she could hear the thudding of his heart, her right arm and leg thrown over him possessively.

“We haven’t had dinner,” Jack said softly after a long silence.

“Who cares?”

Who cares indeed?
he thought.

Once again they were silent until first Jack, then Tina, drifted away into the darkness of sleep.

CHAPTER THREE

The chirp of his phone prodded Jack out of sleep. “Jack,” he mumbled into the receiver after slapping around until he found the phone.

“Mr. Carter?”

“This is Jack Carter,” he said as he tried to blink himself awake.

“Mr. Carter. This is Loni Gessler at
Albuquerque Storage.
Mr. Carter, the Albuquerque police are here with a warrant to search your storage unit. They have agreed to wait for you to come open the unit. They said they will wait an hour before they cut the lock. Mr. Carter, can you come open the unit for them so they don’t damage the door and lock?”

He was groggy at the start of the call but he was wide awake now. “Yes. Tell the police that I am on my way. I’m still in bed so it’ll take me a few minutes to get dressed, but I should be there in forty-five minutes to an hour.”

“Thank you, Mr. Carter,” the woman said in relief.

“It’s okay. I’ll be there quick as I can.”

“What’s going on?” Tina mumbled.

“The jig is up!” he exclaimed after hanging up. “The cops are at one of the storage buildings. Get dressed, and hurry! We’re leaving!”

She paused for a moment in her confused, groggy state before what Jack said soaked in and she sprang from the bed. She wasn’t even out of the bedroom before Jack’s phone rang again.

“Jack Carter.”

“Mr. Carter. This is
High Desert Self-Storage.
Mr. Carter, the…”

“Yes, I know. The police are there. Tell them to wait. They know I have six units, and you are the second place to call to tell me they are there… and my phone is ringing on the other line right now. Just tell them to wait and I will be there as soon as I open the other units. There is nothing in there but some old cars and car parts, but I can’t be at all six units that I rent at the same time.”

“Thank you, Mr. Carter,” the man said.

“Tina! Hurry!” The phone rang again. “Jack Carter.”

“Mr. Carter… this is…”

“I know! The cops are there. Tell them to wait. I’m on my way and I will be by to open the unit as soon as I can get there,” Jack said before hanging up. Before he can even drop the phone on the bed, it rang again.

Within five minutes, all six storage places have called, and Jack had stalled them as much as he could. “We’ve got to move!” he said as he quickly dressed and gathered a few clothes.

“That’s all you’re taking?” she asked in surprise. Her clothes fit in two plastic grocery sacks… but that was all she had.

“No room for more,” he said as he carried his clothes into the kitchen where he pulled two bags from the supply under the sink and stuffed his clothes into them.

“We’re not taking the car?”

“I can’t leave my grandfather's bike.”

“But…”

“I’m not leaving it, Tina!” he snapped as he pulled his gun off the top of the refrigerator, along with a box of ammunition, and tossed both items into one of the bags.

“I understand! But think about this!” she pleaded.

“You can drive it if you want, but I’m taking the ‘39,” he said, his tone making it clear this discussion was closed.

Tina fumed. The Audi was clearly the better choice, but if she was in the car and he was on the bike, they could more easily get separated. “Fine, dammit! I’ll take the other bike.”

“Shit… the banks aren’t even open yet!” Jack snarled as he shrugged into his Desert Sons jacket.

“What?”

“We need cash. We can’t use a credit card or they can track us. We’re going to have to go to ground for a couple of hours before I can get some cash.”

“Can’t you use the ATM?” she asked as they hustled out into the warehouse and mounted up.

“I could. But about six-hundred dollars is all I can take out with the ATM card. We’re going to need a lot more than that. We can start with that, just in case they are on to us before the banks open.”

“Oh…” she said as she stored her clothes and put on her helmet. “Do you need to call Seth or Marshall and tell them what has happened?”

“No. We don’t have time to do it right now and I’m leaving my cell here. Once again, they will be able to track us if we use it.”

“How will…” she began.

“You’re going to have to help me with that,” he said as he kicked at the bike, trying to bring it to life.

***

They had stopped at the nearest branch of Jack’s bank and drew out the maximum amount possible from the ATM, five-hundred dollars. They had breakfast while waiting for the banks to open then returned to the branch and waited for them to unlock the doors.

She was amazed at how cool Jack was as he flirted with the tellers while he went about the business of drawing out five grand in cash. She would be—she
was
—a nervous wreck, but you would never know that Jack was on the run from the way he handled himself.

Two hours later, and money in hand, they were finally ready to hit the road. They only had to stop and top off the bikes.

“Where are we going?” Tina asked as they dismounted.

“I don’t know. Would your mom put you up for a few days?”

Tina snickered. “She would probably turn me in for the reward if she knew about it. What about your family?”

“Back east,” Jack said.

“Back east?”

“Yeah. I’m originally from Maine.”

“Maine?” she exclaimed. “You don’t sound like you’re from Maine.”

“Yeah,” Jack said as he turned on his accent. “Marshall and I moved here right out of high school. I hated the cold.”

“Okay…
now
you sound like you’re from Maine. So we can’t go to my Mom’s house, and your parents are too far away. So where are we going?”

“I don’t know. Let me think a moment,” he said as he turned and walked into the station to prepay. “How about Roswell?” he asked when he returned. “Lots of strangers in town, so two more won’t look out of place.”

She bobbed her head in silent agreement as the gas gurgled into the bikes. “Good idea. Believe it or not, I’ve lived here my entire life and I’ve never been there.”

“I have, once, not long after I moved here. Strange place.”

“So we should fit right in,” she quipped.

He snorted as he gently tapped the gas nozzle against the Knucklehead to prevent it from dripping on the paint.

“Yeah. Especially you.” He saw her stick her tongue out at him from the corner of his eye, but didn’t do anything other than smile.

After hanging up the nozzle he returned to the store for his change while she sat astride her bike. When they fled Jack’s apartment that morning she was convinced they were going to get caught. But now, more than two hours later, she thought they were going to get away. To
where, and for how long, she didn’t know. But so long as Jack was with her, she somehow knew everything was going to be okay.

***

They ride East on I-40 until they reach highway 285. As the hogs rumble south through the desert, Tina felt free. She loved the desert southwest and the open desolation calmed on her. The Albuquerque police had undoubtedly opened the storage facilities and found the cars by now, but out here, where there was nothing for miles and miles in every direction, she found it hard to worry about something that happened eighty, ninety, and then a hundred miles behind her. 

Jack pulled into a small mom-and-pop filling station, the only one they had seen for dozens of miles. “You want something to drink? I’m parched,” he said as he started pumping. Out here you could still pump your gas,
then
pay for it.

“I’ll just have a drink of yours, if that is okay.”

He nodded and smiled. He had swapped enough spit with her by now to not worry about a little on a pop bottle. “That’s fine. Fill both bikes and I will just wait inside to pay.”

She carefully filled the bikes and took extra care to not to drip, especially on Jack’s bike, before she hung up the nozzle. Moments later he appeared with a slightly green bottle in his hand.

“Squirt?” she asked as she read the bottle.

“Ever had one?”

“I’ve never even heard of it.”

He chuckled as he opened the bottle before he handed it over. “You are in for a treat then.”

She took a big hit off the bottle then handed it back as her face wrinkled up. “Oh, by
god,
that’s tart!” she cried as she tried to scrape the sudden fuzzy feeling off her tongue and onto her teeth.

Jack snickered. “Best desert drink in the world.”

“Give me a beer,” she said, still smacking her lips.

“With a beer, ten minutes after you drink it, you’re thirsty again. Not with this,” he said before taking a big swig. “Ahhh… refreshing!”

She watched him and giggled. She took the bottle from his hand and had another drink. She could tell she still made a face, but it
was
a thirst quencher. “Okay… it’s growing on me,” she said as she handed it back.

They passed the bottle back and forth another couple of times, and by the time Jack tossed it into the trash, Tina had to admit she was feeling refreshed and no longer dehydrated. They mounted up and she thumbed her bike to life, but Jack had to kick his several extra times before it started and remained running.

‘What’s wrong with it?” she asked as she eased up beside him.

“I don’t know. Maybe nothing. Just seems to be running a little rough. Maybe it’s bad gas.” As they pulled out of the station the Knucklehead shuddered and coughed a couple of times, but then seemed to smooth out once they were back out on the road, so he forgot about it.
This is what happens when you buy gas in a place that hardly sells any… but when you need gas, you
need
gas,
he thought
.
He would put some good gas in the old girl when he got to Roswell, and then it would be fine.

***

They rolled into Roswell just before noon. When they filled their bikes again, the Knucklehead became cranky. Since the bike was only temperamental at low speeds and idle, Jack decided the problem was with the carburetor—an easy fix once they found a place to settle in for the night.

They stopped at a local place with a western flair that seemed clean and checked in as Mr. & Mrs. Thomas Harris—the name a combination of Jack’s middle name with Tina’s last—from Lubbock, Texas. Tina had a hard time not laughing as Jack talked up the manager and told her how they were on a riding tour through the southwest after selling their business. If she didn’t know it was total bullshit, she would have believed it herself. 

Their room was in farthest corner of the U-shaped motel. After they moved their gear inside the stifling room and switched on the air conditioning, they went back outside while the room cooled.

They wandered around the motel. They first checked out the pool, then the battered old Conestoga wagon displayed at the entrance before they retreated back to the rapidly cooling room. They sat on the edge of the bed and flipped through the television channels until they found the Albuquerque station with local news. They hoped to find some information on the cars, but they either missed it or it hadn’t made the news yet.

“We’ll try again at six. I’m sure it will be on then. There is no way the police aren’t going to announce that,” Jack said as he flipped the television off.