SINdicate: A BT Urruela FanFiction Novel: Cerberus MC Book 1.5 (20 page)

I sigh lightly with my lips against her neck, praying that this time tomorrow we’ll both be free of the SINdicate and able to do what ever our hearts, and in this case, our bodies desire. I’m as hard as steel but won’t let my body control my actions.

“Stop,” I say gruffly against her lips. I clamp my hand down on her hip to keep her from grinding against me.

“Please,” she whimpers.

“Soon,” I promise her.

“I need you,” she says before scraping her teeth down my neck.

“Jesus,” I pant loudly. The feeling of her damp heat against my jeans makes my brain go haywire.

I know when I finally get her beneath me completely naked we’re going to be explosive. She’s writhing under me, desperate for me, and I’m loving every second of it.

I know there’s a slim chance that tonight might not turn out the way we both want it to. I know that there’s always a chance that something could go wrong, no matter how good the Cerberus team is. Knowing this, I refuse to leave her like this.

If something terrible does happen, I want her final memory of me to be one of sated happiness, not uncontrollable need.

I shift my weight to her side and slowly guide my fingers down her taut stomach. The way her muscles jump at the gentle glide of my fingers brings a smile to my face. I get the feeling that if we make it out of here safely, my face will hurt all the time from the smiles she induces.

She gasps when I sneak my hand past the elastic band of her sweats, my intent becoming clear.

A groan rolls from her throat as I push my fingers down her outer lips, avoiding her clit. My fingers converge below the sensitive bundle and plunge into her. She’s hot, tight, and so fucking wet. She clutches at my arm with both her hands and I watch as she parts her lips on a gasp and her eyes flutter closed.

Her body temperature increases, and I instantly hate that I’m clothed. I’m desperate for her, desperate to feel her warmth against my skin. Sliding my thumb up to give her the pressure she needs, I growl into her mouth as her muscles clench trying to pull me deeper.

I circle her clit aggressively as my control begins to waiver. The second her body begins to tremble, convulsing around my fingers, I reach for the zipper of my jeans. My body is in control now, leaving my poor brain in the proverbial dust. I feel the bite of her nails on my arm as she peaks. I could come like a pubescent boy at the sounds she’s making.

“Aviana,” I gasp tugging her sweats down and widening her legs.

Not even bothering to yank my jeans down any further than required for the imminent task, I shift my body between her thighs. My pulse is pounding in my ears as I line myself up against her drenched core. I take a calming breath, knowing I can’t go at her the way my body is demanding that I do.

She reaches for me, her fingers slowly teasing my chest and abdomen. I lean forward and watch her eyes as I push my bare cock slowly inside her.

A tremendous boom sounds outside in the hall, setting every individual nerve in my body on edge.

“Fuck!” I yell shifting my hips back and withdrawing from the only place in this world I want to be.

I shuffle off the bed and shove my disobedient dick back into my jeans. Aviana is staring at the door with wide eyes.

I lick my fingers, because what man in their right mind is going to let her taste go to waste?

“BT?” She asks, the fear clear in her shaky voice.

“Get in the bathroom and stay there until I get back,” I tell her as I help her pull her sweats up, regretful of covering the Eden I felt for only the briefest of seconds.

BT

As I watch her back retreating to the en-suite the door to her room bursts open.

“Urruela!” A masked man yells at me gaining my attention.

I turn to him and catch the weapon he’s tossed to me. The Sig feels like home in my hand, but I wonder if it’s enough. Looking at the man in front of me dressed in full combat gear, makes me feel naked and exposed. I’ve never felt less prepared for a mission than I do right now.

“It’s go time,” the unfamiliar voice tells me as I make my way to the door.

Women screaming and a wall of smoke greet me as I leave the sanctuary of Aviana’s room. Mindful of her being in there alone, I pull the door closed behind me. The frame is shattered, and the door can’t lock now that it’s been damaged. An uneasy chill runs up my spine at leaving her so unprotected.

I follow behind the man who retrieved me and make my way deeper down the hall. I’ve never been to any of the other rooms the times I’ve been here. The entryway and Aviana’s room are the only places I’ve been. Hindsight hits me in the gut, knowing I should have done more to canvas my surroundings the times that Vito has brought me here.

We stop in front of the door I know to be Darby’s room and presumably where Vito should be. On the other guy’s count, I wait impatiently as he kicks the door in.

I step inside the room with my weapon pointing at the back of Vito’s head as he snorts a thick line of coke off of Darby’s tits. She’s tied to the bed, tears rushing down her cheeks. I see red whelps all over her body. I’m not really into the BDSM scene, and to each their own, but I can tell by the terrified look in her eyes, that this isn’t something she’s agreed to voluntarily. I see red.

Vito looks up with a stupid grin on his face, clearly so coked out of his mind that he didn’t hear Armageddon happening on the other side of the door.

“Get up fucker!” I yell at him.

He slowly rolls off of Darby, and I see the flash of silver, hearing the sound of the gun before my body can react to his intentions. I feel my body shift slightly and wait for the pain that as a civilian I never thought I’d experience again.

I look down and see the bullet hole in the jeans of my right leg. I smirk at the stupid asshole. His eyes go wide as if he’s seeing a miracle occur right in front of his face.

Feeling invincible I stalk toward him, knocking the gun from his hand. Thankfully he’s so fucked up that his reaction time is off.

I raise the butt of my weapon and bring it down hard against his jaw.

“That’s my favorite leg!” I grunt out slipping my firearm into the waist of my jeans.

I hit him, again and again, providing my own judgment against his face. “For Aviana. For Darby. For all the other women trapped here and abused.” I land a strike against his jaw with each sentence.

He’s a bloody mess by the time I’m pulled off of him; sure I’d beat him to death if strong arms hadn’t pulled me from his chest.

Two other guys come into the room, one tying Vito up, uncaring of his injuries and the other covering Darby with a sheet and loosening her restraints.

“Shit,” I mutter wiping sweat and blood from my forehead with the back of my hand.

“Let’s get you looked at.” I turn toward the voice and watch as a familiar face is uncovered from the black baklava. I recognize him as one of Kincaid’s men from the clubhouse. Noticing the look on my face he says, “Snatch,” as he reaches his hand out to mine.

He takes another quick look down at my injured leg. “We have a medic outside.”

I smile and pull up the leg of my jeans revealing my carbon fiber limb. “Right on,” he says with a big grin.

We both make our way out into the hall. I see two other men tied up against the wall, and all of the women huddled together sobbing and crying, unsure of what is going to happen after tonight. If I’m being honest, I have no idea what their futures will look like.

I do, however, have some clue what mine is going to look like. I skirt past Kincaid’s team who is also joined by men from several other federal organizations and make my way back to Aviana’s room. I smile when I see Shadow standing sentry in front of her door.

Before I can push her door open, a hand clasps on my shoulder. I turn and look into the dark eyes of a man with FBI in bold letters across his chest. I raise my eyebrows at him and glance over at his hand still on my shoulder. He pulls it away with a laugh.

I feel Shadow step in beside me. “Jones,” the fed in front of me says extending his hand. I shake it firmly.

“We were wondering how superstar BT Urruela got tangled up with the SINdicate,” his gruff voice advises with a smile.

I scoff at him.
Superstar?
What the fuck is that?

I give him a confused look. “We’ve been watching the organization for some time,” he explains. “We would’ve pulled you out immediately but after looking at your background, we decided against it. We didn’t know exactly what you were doing until one of my guys ran into Brighton here down in Tampa.” He angles his head to Shadow. “He explained everything to us, and we knew we had an ally in you.”

My palms are itching to get back to Aviana, and the thought of her leaving here unnerves me.

“What about the rest of them?” I question as I watch men drag an unconscious Vito and drop him unceremoniously beside his other men.

“I’ll explain it to you later,” Shadow says in my ear with a clap on my shoulder.

I look into his eyes and understand his intentions immediately.

“I need to get my girl,” I say. He nods, knowing my mind isn’t on the situation happening out here any longer.

“Damn right you do,” he says with affirmation.

Aviana

Quivering in the bathtub, I let every worst case scenario pass through my head. I squeeze my eyes shut as I hear yelling, and several more small explosions occur outside of my room. The sounds are deafening and more than a little terrifying.

He said he’d come back for me, and I know his best intentions are to do just that. My mind, however, has already pictured him injured or even worse. I grew up in a poor, horrible neighborhood, toughening me up more than most people, but the sounds going on outside this room are unlike anything I’ve encountered before.

The women screaming are awful, and I can’t tell if the people out there are here to help us or hurt us further. I’m a trembling mess when I feel the air change around me. I can tell immediately that the bathroom door has been pulled open.

I do my best to shrink within myself as I feel someone draw nearer to the tub. Suddenly the shower curtain is pulled back, and the end of a long rifle is pointed at me. I screech and look from the gun to the masked man holding me in his sights.

“Aviana Maguire?” He asks with a smooth voice. I nod my head, unsure if he’s here to hurt me or not. Relief washes over me when he lowers his weapon, and his posture becomes more relaxed.

“Help me,” I say with a tiny voice.

“I can’t do that, darlin’,” he says.

The tears begin to fall harder, and my whole body starts to shake. I made a mistake; this man isn’t here to rescue me, he’s here to cause further harm.

“Calm down, sweetheart.” He takes a closer step, reaching out his hand toward me. I cower lower in the tub. I keep my eyes on him even though I want to look away and hide from whatever is coming next. “I wouldn’t take this moment away from him. Stay here. BT should be here any minute.” He pulls the curtain closed again, and I hear his heavy boot steps as he walks away. Closing the door behind him, I’m again shrouded in darkness.

All I can do is sit and wait like I’ve been instructed. I take the time to wonder if I’ll ever not question a stranger’s intent when they approach me. I hope I can be able to trust again, but I know that’s not something that’s going to happen in the near future.

I freeze when the bathroom door opens again. I don’t know how long I’ve been huddled in the dark. It has felt like an eternity even though I’m certain it’s only been an hour or so. I know who it is before he can fully get in the room. My body attuned to his; my soul reaching out to its mate.

The shower curtain is pushed back and the next second BT’s figure is revealed. My eyes widen when I see the blood on his hands and shirt. He looks down, noticing where my gaze has settled.

“Fuck, sorry,” he says and turns to the sink.

“Are you hurt?” I ask watching him scrub his arms clean.

“No, baby. I’m perfect,” He answers. He turns back to me and shrugs out of his bloody shirt.

“Whose blood is that,” I question pointing to the discarded garment on the floor.

“Don’t worry about that, Aviana.”

“Are we free?” I’m still crouched down in the tub, terrified that it’s not over.

“It’s over, baby. Come here.” I can see his hands trembling. I can tell he wants to reach out to me, but he’s giving me the chance to come to him as a woman, not a captive of the SINdicate.

I scramble out of the tub and into his arms. The tears and sobbing begin again, only this time due to relief and joy rather than heartache and fear.

He whispers calming words and solace in my ears as he holds me tightly against his bare chest.

“It’s over,” I repeat through my uncontrolled emotions.

“The feds are going to need a statement from you,” he says after long minutes of embracing.

“The feds?” I pull my head back to look him in the eye.

I had no idea what was going on outside the room, and the knowledge that federal agents were involved floors me.