SINdicate: A BT Urruela FanFiction Novel: Cerberus MC Book 1.5 (21 page)

Giving in to my confused look he explains. “I’m friends with a motorcycle club from New Mexico. They helped me get to Vegas with Mike Hawke’s identity.”

“Okay,” I say drawing out the last syllable, still not understanding.

“I can’t go into detail, but they have a lot of friends in some pretty high places, including federal agencies. They all worked together to take down the SINdicate.” He nuzzles my neck as if he can’t get close enough to me.

I have a million questions, but none of them matter as long as I’m safe and in the arms of this perfect man.

“Let’s go, Avi,” he says backing slightly away from me. I feel the loss immediately. “The sooner we give them our statements, the sooner we can get out of Vegas.”

I nod my head in agreement and wipe the remainder of my tears off my face. If a statement is the only thing standing in the way of finally being a free woman, then I’m all for it.

***

I didn’t have much to give the feds. They knew I was locked up in that building for weeks with no way to escape, which only allowed for very limited interaction with the men of the SINdicate. Honestly, I’d only seen a handful of the men, having only ever really talked to Vito and even that interaction was minimal.

They deemed me lucky since I wasn’t injured or sexually assaulted while I was there. They wouldn’t give me any information in exchange for what I gave them, but from the way they acted I can almost guarantee that some of the women there and at The Cat House didn’t fare as well.

BT and his involvement with the closer working of the organization took much longer to debrief. The hours he was closed in the room speaking with an entire team of men I spent in a quiet room with the other women from the harem.

Thankfully, Darby was there with me, and I didn’t have to spend it with the other women. If telling by the sneers I’m getting from across the room, who still hate me. From the look on Courtney’s face, they hate me more now than they did before.

“Don’t pay her any attention,” Darby says pulling my gaze from the huddle of women across the room.

I look at her and sigh. She has the beginning of a black eye, and I saw the marks on her legs and back earlier before we left the hotel. Vito was extremely brutal to her this evening, and I can tell by the look in her eye that she’s incredibly thankful for the opportunity to escape.

“We’re heading back to the Cerberus Motorcycle club,” I tell her, giving her the information BT gave me on the way to this office. “They’re in New Mexico.” I give her a weak smile. “You could come with us,” I offer.

She perks up slightly. “How long will you stay there before returning to Tampa?” she asks timidly.

I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. Not long I imagine, but you’re welcome to return to Tampa with me as well.”

“Anything to get out of Vegas,” she says.

I nod my head in agreement. Another minute here in the desert is still a minute too long.

We chat for a while longer, my gaze roaming steadily over the door to the hallway that leads to the room BT is in. I know I’m safe. BT assured us we were, but being told to stay here until someone retrieves us is still an uneasy feeling.

I thought leaving the hotel meant clear freedom, but my gut is twisting knowing I’ve been told not to leave. I twist my fingers in my lap and do my best to keep from shaking my legs as I wait.

I feel Darby scoot closer and wrap me in a hug. “It’s going to be okay,” she promises.

I should be comforting her. She’s been through more hell tonight than I have been in my entire life. It makes me feel like shit that she’s forced to comfort me rather than the other way around.

“Fuck me,” I hear her whisper the same time a door opening registers in my ear.

I look to her first then at the open door. A tall, muscular man wearing a leather motorcycle vest stands in the doorway. His hair is cut in a close Mohawk, and he’s covered in tattoos, more ink than I’ve ever seen in my life, and that’s saying something because I live in Tampa where people seem to wear more ink than clothes most days.

He’s looking my direction, but I can tell his focus is elsewhere. I cut my eyes to Darby and see her staring at the man with her mouth slightly open.

I feel him approach as I continue to stare at Darby’s reaction to the man.

“Temptress,” I hear his husky voice say as he holds out his heavily tattooed hand out to her.

“Darby,” she corrects in an equally husky tone as she places her hand in his.

“Snatch,” he replies. I watch as his thumb strokes the top of her hand. I glare at him, thinking he’s disgusting until I see the black and white patch on his left chest that says the same word, more than likely his road name.

“I’m sure,” Darby replies, and even as an outsider I can hear the innuendo.

Without pulling her hand from his, she looks back at me. “I think New Mexico is a perfect place to go,” she says.

BT

I hold Aviana tightly against my chest as she sleeps. I’m thankful the MC has let us tag along with them back to New Mexico, and I’m even more grateful for the private jet we’re in rather than facing an eight-hour drive back to their clubhouse.

I smile when I look across the small aircraft and see Aviana’s friend Darby none the worse for wear as she tips back a martini, never taking her eyes off of Snatch, the biker that assisted with the entry into her room. This woman has sensuality coming off of her in waves. It doesn’t bother me. With Avi in my arms, I seem to be immune to her seductiveness. Snatch, on the other hand, isn’t so lucky. He’s not speaking to her, but I’ve seen him adjust his cock in his pants no less than half a dozen times.

I kiss the top of Avi’s head and feel her shift slightly in my arms. Looking down I see her peering back at me. I sweep a lock of her blonde hair from her face and trail my fingers down her chin and smooth neck.

“Hey, baby.” I kiss her head again.

She blinks up at me, and I can tell by the look in her amazing hazel eyes that I’m exactly what she wants. My chest feels tighter, and my pulse speeds up.

I’ve fallen in love with this beautiful woman. My entire being is full of a love so strong no other person in my life has even come close to gaining.

“I love you,” I whisper to her, unwilling to let a second go by without her knowing it. Never again will I leave things unspoken with her. Begging her to stay was on the tip of my tongue the night she was abducted, and fuck if I don’t regret not saying those words.

I watch a small smile spread across her gorgeous face and a tear rolls out of the corner of her eye. She releases a small, content sigh and snuggles deeper into my embrace. She doesn’t say it back, which honestly is disheartening, but she didn’t jump out of my arms, and for a woman who doesn’t do relationships, that’s a plus.

***

Our arrival at the clubhouse is chaotic and full of more fanfare than I could’ve ever imagined. Some of the guys on the team had been gone as long as I was and clearly, they were missed by the others.

Beer is flowing, bikers are together in small groups, and I’ve never seen so many exposed tits outside of a strip joint in all my life. Topless seems to be the theme of the night, even most of the bikers are without shirts, although they all wear their leather cuts.

“Wow,” Aviana mutters sticking closer to my side as she takes in the scene in front of us.

“It’s not usually like this,” Shadow says handing me a beer.

I feel Aviana lift her head from my shoulder and turn her gaze to him almost in recognition. I watch as he winks at her and walks away.

“What was that about?” I ask her, setting the domestic brew on a nearby table.

“Nothing,” she says with a timid smile.

Before I can grill her further, I see Kincaid walking toward us.

“Aviana this is Kincaid. He’s the club president.” I watch as they shake hands and exchange pleasantries.

“I kept a room available for you guys,” he says holding out a key on a small keychain. “Figured you’d be super tired after your ordeal and would want to turn in early.” He winks at us and walks away. What the hell is up with all the winking?

“You tired?” I ask looking down at the beautiful woman in my arms.

She smiles and nods her head enthusiastically. “Exhausted.”

The gleam in her eyes tells me we won’t be getting much sleep tonight.

The keyring Kincaid has handed me has a very distinct, familiar emblem on it. This belongs to the same room I had before all of the shit went down in Vegas. I escort Aviana down the narrow hallway to the room and lock the door behind us.

She turns in my arms and kisses my clothed chest. I tilt her head back and kiss her chin.

“If you’re tired?” I begin.

She shakes her head back and forth, “I slept most of the way here.”

My hands are trembling. This is the first time since I’ve met her that I’ve walked into a room knowing how things will go. It’s the first time, other than the first night at my house, that we’ve been alone with a slim chance of getting interrupted. We’ve waited so long for our time together; fought tooth and nail to come out on top. I’ve been less than patient, but now I have a desire to take my time and love her like she deserves.

I’m a grown man, an Army veteran. I’ve been chewed up in war and spit out mangled. I’m a survivor. I overcome. Yet, the sight of this woman in my arms holds me captive. My nerves are not about sex or worry over performance issues. My heart thunders in my chest because I know that tonight is the beginning of my future with Aviana Maguire.

She places her hands on my chest, one directly over my pounding heart and the other slides down and rests on my hip. Without a word spoken, I drag my hands down her sides and grasp the hem of her shirt. Torturously slow, I pull it up and over her head. Her hands fall back into position on my body.

Her immaculate breasts are front and center, slightly pushed together from her raised arms. I raise my hands and run my thumbs over hardening nipples. Her head lolls slightly on her shoulders, and I feel the hand on my hip slide from its position. Small fingers dip into the waistband of my jeans, teasing the sensitive flesh of my lower stomach.

I gasp when her soft fingertips brush the tip of my cock which is straining against the zipper of my jeans begging to be released. I pinch her nipples and roll them between my thumb and forefinger, causing her to tug my jeans and pull me flush against her body.

Releasing her breasts, I reach for the hem of my t-shirt and begin to pull it off. Her hands land on mine and I see her shaking her head slightly.

“Please, let me,” she whispers taking over.

I lower my hands to my sides and let my eyes close. The feel of her hands on my skin as she slowly raises my shirt up is a heaven I’ve never felt before. This woman owns me and I never even spent a full night with her.

“Bend down,” she says softly.

I open my eyes to look down at her and realize I’m too tall for her to pull my shirt off completely. I raise my arms over my head and bend at the waist. The action puts my head close enough that I can feel the heat rolling off of her body, more importantly, her amazing breasts. Not one to waste an opportunity, I swipe at one of her nipples with my tongue.

In reaction, she stands taller on the tips of her toes and pushes further against my mouth. Lowering a hand, I palm her neglected breast while I continue to feast at the delicate skin of her left one. Dexterous fingers tangle in my head, my t-shirt completely forgotten.

“Jesus, baby,” I moan when I feel her hand grip me through my jeans.

I kiss up her chest, over her shoulder, and along her jawline. My mind wants slow, sensual lovemaking, but my body is insisting on throwing her on the bed and going at her like a maniac. The internal war is raging, but my body remains still as she unsnaps the button on my jeans and lowers the zipper.

Leaving my jeans on and around my waist, her hands delve under the waistband of my boxers, one seeking my throbbing cock and the other cupping my balls. I grind my teeth unconsciously at the sensation of her cool hands on my heated flesh.

Just like she did back at the hotel, she edges my jeans and boxers down my legs and hits her knees in front of me. Fuck she’s beautiful, all hazel eyes and honey blonde hair looking up at me. The sight of my cock protruding so dangerously close to her mouth has it twitching in anticipation.

She slips my shoes off and removes my jeans, tossing them carelessly to the side. Her delicate, tender hands stroke all the way up both legs, paying each one equal attention as she stares up at me. She doesn’t waiver in her ministrations when her fingers hit my prosthetic for the very first time, and I’ve never felt more whole in my entire life than I do at this moment.

Her lips glisten as she runs her tongue over them. I see her eyes dart to my cock quickly as if she’s judging distance, but then they return to mine. Feeling overheated, I rip my shirt off and let it flutter to the floor to join my other clothes. Leaning in a few inches to close the distance, her tongue reaches out and with the softest of touches, she licks away the beaded drop from the tip.

My lips part and my eyelids lower. I resist the urge to grab her head and jut my hips forward. The tips of my fingers tingle with the need to touch her. Resting both of her hands on my thighs, she slides her insanely hot mouth over the head and halfway down my shaft. I could stay here forever, nestled in her mouth with the tantalizing feel of her tongue circling my rigid cock.