REIGN: A Motorcycle Club Romance Novel (15 page)

“
Mmmm
, that’s a good start,” she said.
Buoyed, the girl let her fingers linger, back and forth, tracing the inside of
Honey’s lips. She leaned forward, kissing Honey’s neck, tasting her. She
mirrored Honey’s approach, trailing her lips downward, but bypassed Honey’s
breasts completely.

Honey moaned as Georgia’s warm mouth grew nearer and nearer to her
aching pussy, parting her legs wider. Georgia’s fingers were playing delicately
with her clit, as though afraid of touching it too hard. The sensation was like
thousands of feathers gently pricking at Honey’s flesh: beautiful torture. She
wanted to grab the girl’s head and force it downwards, but she was patient. As
Georgia’s tongue dipped below her belly-button, the girl re-positioned herself
between Honey’s parted thighs.

“Taste me, sweetheart,” Honey whispered, feeling the girl’s hot breath
against her clit. She reached down and gently tugged at one of her blonde
locks, encouragingly. Georgia looked nervous but curious as she looked down at
Honey’s exposed mound, her fingers now stalled in their roaming.

She leaned forward and gently kissed Honey’s clit, making it jump and
quiver. Honey thought she might break in two from the way the girl was teasing
her, holding back, making her wait. If she didn’t know better, Honey would have
thought the torture was on purpose. She whimpered, her hands gently combing the
girl’s hair, putting the slightest pressure on the back of her head.

With a rush of electric pleasure, Honey’s efforts were rewarded as the
girl tentatively stuck her tongue out and ran it along Honey’s clit.

“Oh, yeah, baby, just like that,” she cried out, and Georgia repeated
the move, lapping at Honey’s clit as it strained forward from its hood. As
though inspired by Honey’s reaction, she began to lick faster, experimenting
with different speeds and angles, now circling it, now flicking it gently.

Honey felt her blood turning slow and molten as her desire rose, her
pussy begging for attention, her face enflamed. She hadn’t realized how horny
she was until Georgia’s tongue began to lick her sensitive button, how it was
so tender it almost hurt as Georgia rolled it between her lips and hummed
against it playfully.

“Oh, baby, that’s so good,” Honey moaned encouragingly, hoping the
girl would take it a step further. Her hopes were not in vain. Bolstered,
Georgia pressed two fingers against Honey’s dripping slit.

“Can I fuck you like this?” Georgia suddenly asked, pulling her face
away; Honey looked up and couldn’t help but smile at the worried look on the
girl’s face.

“Please fuck me just like that, baby” she said, her hips automatically
raising as her body cried out for stimulation. She raised her hands to her own
breasts, pinching her sensitive nipples as she moaned, Georgia’s tongue once
more finding her swollen clit and lavishing attention upon it.

Honey felt her thighs quivering around the girls’ head, felt her body
heating up one degree at a time, her nerves dancing and snapping inside her.
With a satisfied groan, she felt Georgia push her two fingers inside Honey’s
pussy, as deep as the knuckle, and began to stroke her inside, gently thrusting
back and forth. Honey’s hips arched, and Georgia’s fingers plunged further into
her cunt, her tongue never leaving Honey’s clit.

“Fuck me, yes, baby, oh fuck me,” Honey moaned, wanting the girl to
never stop, feeling her pleasure rising and rising inside her like a ship on a
tremendous wave. The girl began to fuck her harder, faster, her fingers darting
in and out while her tongue lapped and sucked at her clit. Honey kneaded her
own breasts, tweaking the nipples violently, her muscles straining to the point
of snapping as pleasure engulfed her.

The wave crested, broke, and Honey felt herself trembling as her legs
snapped shut around the girl’s head, her silky hair against Honey’s thighs like
a cool compress to her skin as she bucked and came underneath the girl’s tongue
and around her probing fingers. Honey felt her orgasm shaking her body to its
core as she peaked and then slowly fading, leaving her buzzing and humming with
pleasure. Releasing her thighs, she sighed happily and let her head roll back
further against the pillow.

“Oh, girl, you’re a natural,” she said. Georgia giggled and wiped her
mouth as she pulled away and crawled up to join Honey in the bed. Honey
extended her arm, inviting the girl to nuzzle into her. She did, and Honey let
the sweet smell of Georgia’s hair fill her nostrils. She liked this girl quite
a bit. She hoped she’d stick around. If she did, Honey would take good care of
her, make sure none of the men roughed up her heart. If they did, she’d always
be welcome to come heal in Honey’s bed.

As she drifted off once more, listening to the gentle breathing beside
her, the sunlight streaming in over them, illuminating their soft curves as
they lay in the bed, Honey’s mind lagged once more, tripping over that
unsettling feeling that had plagued her upon waking.

With a sudden start that shook Honey’s whole body, her eyes popped
open. Somehow, it didn’t disturb the sleeping figure beside her. She remembered
now what she’d see the night before. A stranger, though not a stranger, really.
He’d been in the bar for a few days…she hadn’t noticed anything odd about him
at first but…but last night…

Yes, last night. He’d done something odd. She’d noticed him first
staring at Reign and the little thing he was trying to help, then again, when
she was outside after Reign had rode away. She’d seen the man slinking off
towards the motel. But he wasn’t a guest. There were only three people even
staying at the motel, and he wasn’t one of them. And he’d been headed straight
for room 7.

Honey’s stomach flipped. She cursed herself now for having drank too
much, for being too wasted to notice just how suspicious all that was. She
could sense trouble a mile away, but it had been sitting right in her own damn bar
and she hadn’t done a thing about it. There was definitely something up with
that stranger, and it definitely had something to do with that Gabriella girl.

I told Reign she’d be trouble,
Honey thought, her contentment draining away as
she tried to put all the pieces together in her mind. The duffel bag, the
bruise, the girl, the stranger, Reign…

She’d need coffee if she was going to start working on whatever this
was. Loathe to leave the comfort of her bed, not to mention Georgia’s
pleasurably soft flesh, she groaned and sat up.

Some day off,
she thought sourly, but her irritation was just a façade concealing a
pit of worry that was growing in her belly. This wasn’t good. Not at all. Not
at all…

~
17
~

He was very pleased with himself. He wasn’t the sort of man who
generally liked patting himself on the back, but this time he’d really outdone
himself. Of course, he wasn’t too proud to tip his hat to luck, which had set
him up real pretty this time.

It was lucky that the girl had found her way straight into Reign’s
arms. It was lucky that she was running from a situation that he could use to
his advantage. He was lucky that her husband seemed a lot more concerned with
finding his wife than figuring out how she’d gotten the balls to get away. He
was lucky that the cops, the rest of the cops, were only curious about her
possible involvement in the hotel murder – they hadn’t yet gotten to the point
of putting out a warrant or asking too many questions.

He was lucky in all sorts of ways. And he was a man who knew how to
get the most out of his luck.

He sat outside the small, wood-sided house.
Cute digs,
he thought, noting the happy “welcome” sign hanging on
the front door. He also noted the garden, which looked like someone had
recently cared for it, but not for a few days. The guy inside that house
definitely wasn’t the gardening sort, nor did he seem like the “welcome” sign
sort. He seemed like the sort who’d throw a punch as soon as he found a good
reason – and that reason could be any reason at all.

He didn’t think that the fact that this Jeremy guy was a cop would
impede his mission. This guy wasn’t the sort of cop who did it for noble
reasons, protecting and serving and all that. No, Jeremy was just a good
old-fashioned bully, and a police uniform gave him the authority to bully
people on behalf of the great state of Colorado.

He wouldn’t find it part of his duty to report the man to his buddies
on the force. He’d probably be happy as a pig in shit that the man had found
him and was offering his very particular services. A one way ticket to
Find-Your-Wife-
ville
. If the guy wasn’t pissed off
enough about the girl running off in the first place, he was sure to blow his
top once the man told him about her little romance with Reign.

The man opened his car door slowly, in no hurry. He was re-calculating
how much he stood to make off this whole fiasco. His payment from the Immortal
Soulz
, what he could take from the girl’s safe, what he
could weasel out of her husband as a finder’s fee. He’d make enough off this
one gig to coast him through a few good years in Costa Rica.

And if anyone had a problem with him after it was all said and done,
be it the police or the club or the husband, good luck finding him. The man
could go ghost better than the best of them. He’d done enough of his own
research to know that the Immortal
Soulz
were savvy,
but nowhere near his level of savvy. If they were, they wouldn’t have hired him
in the first place, would they?

Climbing the brick steps leading to the front door, the man noticed
the curtains shifting slightly.
On the
lookout,
he thought with a grin. Yeah, the guy inside was probably pretty
desperate to get his hands around his no-good, shit-for-brains, unappreciative
wife. Specifically, her neck.

Before the man could even knock, the door creaked open. A strong,
pale, masculine face appeared in the crack. It looked drawn, as though he
hadn’t slept in days, fueled by coffee, but still strong and determined.

Almost psychotically determined.

“What do you want?” growled the man in the door. His eyes shot from
side to side, as though trying to see if there were other people on his tiny
stoop.

“Are you Jeremy
Tunnock
?” the man asked,
unfazed by the crazy look in his subject’s eyes. After a long pause, the face
in the door nodded, and the eyes settled on the man, examining him up and down.
The man tipped his hat, trying to hide a sardonic smile. Guys like Jeremy were
suckers for signs of respect.

“My name is Silas, and I know where your wife is,” the man said
simply, flatly. The face in the door shifted; the eyes grew wide, the chin
trembled a bit before setting in a firm grimace, the sunken-looking cheeks
puffed out slightly, turned reddish.

“Where is she?” Jeremy demanded, his voice rough as sandpaper.

“I rather think we have some things to discuss,” Silas said, taking a
step closer. Jeremy, in turn, stepped back slightly, but made quick work of
opening the door all the way. He stepped to the side to let Silas pass and
stuck his head out, looking both ways, before closing the door once more.

The living area was as cute as the outside, but seemed dark and dim.
None of the lights were on, and the curtains were drawn. Throw pillows, tea
cozies, framed photographs. Evidence of a happy wife, happy home.
Trust not too much appearances,
Silas
thought.

“How do you know where my wife is? Who are you?” Jeremy demanded, arms
crossed, boring holes into the back of Silas’ head as he turned around in the
living room, taking note of all the little details. When he was satisfied about
committing the important things in the room to memory, he finally met Jeremy’s
gaze, the benign smile on his lips a stark contrast to Jeremy’s deadly scowl.

“I’m a man who finds things, does things, for other people, when they
can’t do it themselves. And I happened upon your lovely little Gabriella on a
job. I thought you might be interested in her whereabouts, and what exactly
she’s been up to there,” Silas said patiently. “Shall we discuss this over a
drink? Like gentlemen?”

“Just tell me where she is,” Jeremy demanded, his voice so cop-like it
almost made Silas laugh. Authority hadn’t scared Silas since he was still
eating cereal with a Kermit the Frog spoon. As he’d expected, Jeremy was the
type to throw all his punches at the first bell. If Silas didn’t manage to get
this guy to understand exactly who was in charge of the situation, he’d likely
pull out his Colorado PD-issued gun, and then Silas would have to wrestle it from
him and shoot the poor sap. Silas didn’t want anything as messy as all that.

“Well now, I don’t blame you for being impatient, but I really think
we ought to try and discuss this in a civilized manner. I’m willing to tell you
everything I know – for a small sum, which we can work out over a nice cold
beer,” Silas said, clasping his hands around his back and standing up tall and
straight. He felt a thrill as Jeremy automatically mimicked his actions,
straightening his spine and dropping his arms, clasping them in front of his
waist. But Jeremy didn’t verbally respond to the offer, and after a long pause
Silas decided he would need to crank the engine a bit.

“I can’t say I pegged you as a teetotaler, but no matter. It doesn’t
have to be a beer. A nice cold lemonade would…”

“Shut up,” Jeremy snapped, losing the cool he was trying very hard to
maintain. Men with quick tempers hated nothing more than when their anger was
met with placidity. It made them feel foolish. “I don’t negotiate
with…with…with whatever you are.”

“There’s a first time for everything, my good man. But, if you want,
I’ll leave right now and leave you to your own devices. Best of luck to you,
friend, in finding your precious wife,” Silas said, unclasping his hands and
heading to the door.

“Wait,” Jeremy said, his voice cutting through the room quickly, as
though the idea of Silas leaving without giving up the goods incited panic in
his heart.
Or, more likely, his dignity,
Silas
thought, smiling as he paused with his hand on the doorknob.

“Whiskey,” Jeremy said, sounding deflated, which was exactly how Silas
wanted him to sound. “On the rocks or neat?”

“Neat, if you would be so kind,” Silas said, turning back to face his
newest client.