The Filthy Few (Iron Disciples MC) (17 page)

She may be right, but I’ll never
know that. Cade is dead and I could have prevented it; probably. I don’t know
how I can live with this knowledge. Time for a change of pace.

“Stacy, will you go into the
kitchen and get that bottle of wine on the counter and a couple glasses?”

She gets the wine but only pours
me a drink.

“No way sister, you’re getting
fucked up tonight right along with me! We got the bed to ourselves so no
driving home drunk for you.”

She ponders my proposal for a
moment then grabs the bottle and fills her own glass. “Is there anything a
little more robust around here than wine? No offense but I don’t relish the
thought of drinking a bottle or more; if of course the plan is still to get
wasted.”

“Check around the kitchen. There’s
no way in hell an outlaw biker is going to just a pussy drink like red wine.
There’s gotta tequila or bourbon or something like that in his cupboards.”

I hear her opening and closing
drawers and cupboard doors until I hear a positive affirmation.

“Ah ha! Tequila it is!” She
proclaims proudly.

A few minutes later she returns to
the living room with a bottle and two glasses with ice in them. She pours and I
power down the first two drinks without pause. She sits back on the couch and
studies me carefully.

“He was a good man I think; Cade.
Even though Corey didn’t like him much, he did say that he seemed like an
honorable man and worth you keeping around. You don’t know Corey like I do.
That’s high praise coming from him.”

“And I fucking killed him. Doesn’t
that make me a black widow?”

“You have to be married to the guy
honey. Black Widow’s kill to get the insurance settlement and any assets their
husband happened to have. And of course there’s the fact that you didn’t kill
him.”

“I can’t do this Stacy.”

“Can’t do what?” She asks,
refilling my glass.

“I don’t do guilt. It fucks with
my head too much.”

“When have you ever felt guilty
for something other than what happened today?”

“When my mom died and when my dad
died. It fucked with my head for years;
still
fucks with my head. I
don’t fuckng need anything else up there trying to unbalance me.”

Stacy takes a big swallow and
squints her eyes as the fiery liquid goes down. “You’re pretty unbalanced
already without my help.”

We continue to drink as the warm
glow of alcohol and friendship warms my soul and soothes my mind. At first it’s
kinda weird, given our working relationship, but the more I get to know her and
the more tequila I get on board, the more I really like her. She is showing me
a side tonight that I have never seen before and I kinda like it. The next time
her glass needs a refill I grab the bottle with the intention of filling her
glass. However, on account of her wobbly hands and my wavering bottle, only
about half makes it into the glass. A healthy amount winds up on her blouse.

“I’m sssorry.” I slur.

“It’s okay.” She replies, and then
proceeds to unbutton her silk blouse.

By the time she’s reached the last
button I realize I have been sitting here with baited breath watching the big
reveal. I never really saw the real beauty that is Stacy until now. She has
these ultra-delicate Asian features, small pointy nose, black almond eyes, long
glossy black hair, and silky smooth black hair that falls around her now bared
shoulders in a very tantalizing way. She is all of 100 pounds and five two at
best. I can’t help but eye her lacy white bra as the thin material of her
blouse gives way to a gorgeous rack. Unconsciously my tongue slips out of my
pursed lips and lazily traces my upper lip. Her own lips are a chocolate brown,
polished, tantalizing, kissable, and full.

I watch her chest rise and fall
with each breath she takes, and my pussy begins to feel things I have never
experienced in the presence of a beautiful woman. I wonder what one of her
manicured fingers would feel like thrusting deep inside me. And I wonder, what
the hell is coming over me.

I jump inside my own skin when I
feel her hand on my bare knee. It’s an accident of course. She couldn’t be
feeling the same things I’m feeling…can she? I decide to just sit here and see
where that lovely hand of hers ends up. She takes my non-action as a green
light and before I know it she’s knocking on my pussy’s door. I can literally feel
the heat coming off her hand as she cups my sex through my panties. I can’t
believe this is happening to me. I let myself slouch further into the couch
pushing my hips into her hand. I can feel the beat of her heart from her hand,
up against my clit and shooting sweet barbs of pleasure right into my brain and
back again.

She leans into me, pressing her
full breasts against my own. Nipples collide and passions are ignited! It’s
unbelievably exciting the first time her lips brush against mine! Her mouth is
soft, but insistent. She presses mine with hers, just before her tongue darts
between my lips giving me little forbidden thrills. Then she does the
unthinkable, opening her eyes and staring right into mine unwavering as her
fingers slip and slide between my legs. The familiarity of having another woman
stimulate me is nothing compared to the intimacy of having that same woman looking
into my eyes while our tongues do the dance of pleasure. Suddenly I have to
kiss her breasts. It’s not enough to feel them pressed up against mine. I want
to take her nipples into my mouth and to taste her flesh.

Her bra comes off with ease, and
she adjusts her position allowing me to draw a trail of heated passion down her
jawline, down her smooth neck and then to the swelling of her perfect breasts.
She smells of sweet cinnamon and pepper, and heady combination for a woman in
the throes of desire. Her nipples are dark brown, erect, and sensitive to my
touch. The first time my lips lock on a nipple she jumps as if struck by lightning.
Encouraged by her response I continue my passionate exploration of her breasts.
Her perfect skin glistens with a fine sheen of sweat producing a faint salty,
yet pleasant flavor on my tongue. Spurred on by her reactions to my touch and
the taste of her flesh I work my way down past her perfect breasts to her flat
tummy. She fumbles with the buttons of her own skirt, and then literally tears
her own panties off exposing the gentle rise of the smooth, clean shaven mound
between her velvety thighs.

The closest I have ever come to
discovering what a woman’s pussy tastes like is when a past lover has kissed me
after going down on me. It’s what I expect the first time my tongue dips into
her glistening pussy. I could not have been more mistaken. Stacy does not taste
like me on a man’s tongue. She tastes like Stacy. She is sweet, passionate, and
all together desirable. I can’t quite put a name to her…her flavor; so I just
enjoy it and let her moans of excitement and ecstasy be my guide. And when she
has he own orgasm I climax as well. Knowing exactly how she is feeling when my
tongue plays across her clitoris is enough to send me to the clouds.

As we lie spooning on the couch
she whispers in my ear with her velvety lips. “My my, who’d have known there
was so much passion built up in there,” she says tapping my temple with her
index finger.

I don’t have anything to say.

As we lie here it’s not long
before reality sets in and I remember whose house it is we’re occupying. I have
to wonder, just how safe is this place? Probably not too damn safe. In fact
what’s to stop Eddie from making another appearance? Nothing. I hate to say it,
but we really should get the hell out of here. I struggle to disengage myself
from the tangle of Stacy’s limbs when I hear the last thing in the world I want
to hear; the deep throaty rumble of approaching Harley’s.

“Fuck!”

“What’s wrong?” Stacy asks
sleepily.

“Someone’s coming and I’m pretty
sure it’s Eddie and his crew.”

“Oh shit!”

“Yeah shit. We are in fucking
trouble.”

Then it’s a mad scramble for
clothes. In the heat of passion bras, panties, skirts, and blouses, had flown
everywhere. I almost didn’t find my blouse until Stacy located it behind the
couch. As I am buttoning the last button I hear at least two bikes come to a
stop outside in front of the house. Stacy hands me my crutches.

“Is there a back door to this
place?” She asks, frantically.

“There’d better be, If not we’re
pretty fucking screwed.”

She helps me to my feet, steadies
me, then we strike out across the living room and towards the back of the house
where the pantry room probably is. We get within sight of the bathroom door
when one of my crutches goes shooting out from under me and I go down hard on
the tile floor. I land on my ass so hard it knocks the wind out of me and I
swear my tailbone has to be broken. I cry out in pain as I hear the front door
opening. Stacy runs back to my side and grabs me under the shoulders in an
effort to pull me up to my feet but she is way too small to do the job and I am
in too much pain to be of much help. I hope I haven’t re- broken my leg.

The door shuts and we freeze, not
knowing what the fuck to do. I look at Stacy and she looks back at me with wide
eyed terror. She fishes around in her purse looking for something but she
doesn’t produce a thing.

I hear several sets of boots
clumping down the wood floors of the hallway. We have about five seconds before
being discovered. I wish we would have stopped off in the kitchen for some
cutlery. Stacy hugs me tight on the floor waiting together for the inevitable.
She could have run out and saved herself yet here she is waiting what could
have just been my fate. I swear I can even hear her heart pounding and I think
I can feel it against my chest. I guess we’re going to feel what Eddie had in
mind for me earlier today. Maybe I can convince him to let her go if I promise
to cooperate with him tonight; it’s my only play here.

Suddenly the light turns on.

“Morgan?”

My eyes fly open in shock. There
standing in the doorway, and very much alive, is Cade!

If I could have leapt into his
arms I would have! I was so fucking overjoyed at seeing him alive I wanted
nothing more than to wrap my arms around him and to never let go. I almost lost
him today and there’s no fucking way I’m gonna lose him again.

“Looks like there’s a story to
tell here.” He observes and he helps me and Stacy to our feet.

“You have no fucking idea!”

“You guys look like you’ve seen a
ghost or something. What’s going on?”

“I have to tell you something that you’re not going to want
to hear.” I begin. “So can we please sit down? I’ve had a lot to drink tonight
and the room is spinning again.”

“I’m sorry, of course.”

He and a guy I don’t know escort me back to the living room
and onto the couch. Stacy sits down next to me and Cade sits on the recliner.

“Tell me what I don’t want to hear.” Cade demands.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything before, but when you were
gone your brother came by with one of his friends. They didn’t say much but
seems like they’re planning on undermining you or something. Soon as they saw
me they slipped out while I was pretending to be asleep.”

Cade listens to my story but he doesn’t say anything for a
minute. Then he talks.

“I know he is not happy just being the VP. And I have
suspected him of plotting against me, but just to earn votes to overthrow me,
nothing about using violent means. I still think that’s all he will do. If he
uses violence he’ll split the club in half and one of the other clubs will eat
us alive. He needs the Disciples to be in tact if he wants a club to run. But
thanks for telling me. It’s probably a good thing you faked sleeping but I
doubt he would have done anything. He’s usually all bark and no bite and that’s
partly why people will never follow him as president; he’s weak.”

“Well… after I tell you what happened next you might have a
change of mind.”

“He come back?”

“He came back earlier today after you guys left. He said he
had set a trap for you and your guys and that the only way you could keep from
getting blown to bits is if I would sleep with him.”