Chapter Fifteen
Copper
I chose sex over a cup of coffee and my ass is paying for it now. I’m tired as fuck. All weekend, I’ve fucked Stormy all over that damn house. This morning was my favorite. A quick, hot fuck in the kitchen. I’m being a dumbass getting involved with her considering her past and all she’s done to my brother and his MC, but I can’t find it in me to care. Not when she’s whimpering and moaning beneath me. The way her cunt strangles my dick each time is maddening. Stormy is almost too small to take me, which makes me want to fuck her even more. And when I dipped into her ass for a little sample, I knew I’d end up there soon too.
Blinking away memories of Stormy’s naked ass, I try to focus on my hunt for anything related to Dragon. I scour the Memphis records in the system trying to match up to gangs or sex crimes or drugs—anything that might pull up something of interest. Nothing stands out, though.
“Koynakov,” Dan calls out. “See me in my office.”
I shove away from my desk, thankful for a break. Several women I work with flash me flirty smiles and I nod as I pass. I’ve never been one to date where I work, but that never stopped these chicks from trying. Every single one of them who weren’t married have hinted at going out. I never bite. They’re all so boring compared to Stormy. Hell, Krista, my ex-wife, is boring compared to Stormy.
Stormy looks like a devilish angel.
Someone you want to do really, really bad things with.
Fuck, my dick aches to be inside her again. This is going to be a long ass day. I wish she had a phone so I could check in on her.
“Close the door,” Dan says from behind his desk.
I push it closed and take a seat. “What’s up, man?”
“I need your help.” He sighs and scrubs his palm over his face. “I’m getting nowhere with this case.”
He shoves a file my way. I pick it up and begin thumbing through it. Human trafficking case. Not some small-scale gig either. A massive operation. As I read through all the notes and intel, my blood begins to boil. He’s been working this case for months.
“What the hell?” I growl, meeting his stare. “Why wasn’t I informed? I could have been helping on this.”
Dan sighs. “I know. I’m sorry, dammit.”
“You have Meyers on it. No wonder shit isn’t getting solved.” I toss the folder down and lift a brow at him. “Care to tell me why you didn’t put your best guy on this?”
“You’ve had one foot out the door, Jeremy. I see the word ‘retirement’ practically flashing like a neon light above your head.” He leans back in his chair and shrugs. “I just wanted to give you an out. Didn’t want you feeling guilted into staying on for me.”
“But the case is too big,” I mutter. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, I admit I need your brain on this one.”
I flip through more pages of the file and stop when I see a missing person’s report. From Tennessee. Something about the report niggles at me.
“See,” Dan says, his voice filled with relief. “You’re already seeing stuff I probably hadn’t considered. Take it with you and get back to me.”
Absently, I nod and stand up. I take the file back to my desk and return to my earlier project. Dragon. I’d been looking for illegal shit he might have been involved in. I didn’t think about looking through missing person reports. I spend the next hour or so scrolling through reports around the time Dragon came to live with Koyn. Nothing. I go back another year and then another. I eventually find something that has me stopping dead in my tracks.
Holy shit.
Chase Everett Thomas. Sixteen years old. Missing.
The kid staring back at me is smiley and charismatic. Big green eyes. A mouth full of straight white teeth.
Fucking Dragon.
I backpedal now that I have a name. Easily, I find articles about Dragon before he went missing. Local basketball hero who played varsity. Voted by his peers “most likely to become famous.” Scouts from all the best colleges were already taking notice. Wealthy parents.
How the hell did he go from that to psycho Dragon with the Royal Bastards MC?
I also discover Dragon was in a fucking male pageant. Just wait until Koyn gets a load of this shit. It’s like he’s a magnet for these motherfuckers. First Hadley also known as Pageant Girl or PG and then Dragon. It’d almost be comical if this wasn’t such a clusterfuck.
There’s a two-year period between the report when he went missing to the time he showed up on Koyn’s radar, which puts him at about eighteen when Koyn took him in. It makes me wonder what the hell Dragon was doing in those two years. Did he run away? Was he kidnapped? Something fucking happened and this would be a whole helluva lot easier if Koyn would stop playing Daddy and let me do my goddamn job.
I know the necessary procedures and protocols. Lots of red tape to wade through. But, since I went dirty a long time ago, I take the shortcut. It gets shit done and when you’re dealing with lowlife criminals, sometimes you have to play nasty right along with them. The file Dan gave me, though only recently opened as an active investigation, has tons of missing person reports, which means it’s very possible Dragon was the victim of this very ring of traffickers going back near a decade ago. Fuck. This really is huge like Dan said.
I make a call to the one person who can find shit faster than I can.
My brother.
“Yeah,” he grunts in greeting, his voice breathless like the old man was just fucking his life away.
“I have a name on him.”
“No shit?”
“Put your dick away. We need to talk.”
“Sorry, beautiful. You can suck my dick later. Important shit to deal with.”
I roll my eyes, but inside I’m happy for him. He grieved and agonized for so goddamn long, it’s good to see him finally at peace. A few minutes later, he mumbles that he’s in his office.
“Chase Everett Thomas. I’m thinking he was around eighteen when you ran into him at that bar in Arkansas,” I blurt out. “There’s a missing person report on him when he was sixteen. I stumbled upon this while working a big-ass trafficking case that dates back to around this time. I think it’s got Vidal and Collins written all over it.”
“Fuck.” The sounds of his fingers tapping away on his keyboard can be heard. “Dad’s a doctor there in Memphis. Mom is a fuckin’ life coach who travels giving speeches. Hot as hell too. Three brothers who look just like him—athletic and smart and happy. There’s no way a kid like him would have left this life.” He taps away some more. “Kid drove a goddamn beamer.”
“They took him,” I agree. “Probably similar to how they took Erin and how they planned to take Stormy.” My gut twists at the thought of her accidentally getting herself stuck with them instead of the Royal Bastards. “And now they’re looking for him, man.”
“They’re not looking,” Koyn growls. “They’ve already found him. They’re biding their time. Watching us. Fuck.”
He’s right. Stormy found this file a year ago. They already called up at my work to fuck with us. If they know Koyn and me, then they’ve already uncovered who all is patched in under him. All it would take is catching a glimpse of Dragon and they’d know. He has an unforgettable face—the kind that should be splashed across tabloids or a face strutting down the runway in Milan or some shit. Point is, Dragon is a good-looking dude who stands out like a sore fucking thumb.
“What do we do?” I scrub my palm over my face. “We’re always two steps ahead of everyone, but I feel like these fuckers are ghosts.”
“They are,” Koyn bites out. “I already picked apart what we know on them. Collins no longer offices in Tulsa. He ghosted out of there right after Stormy showed up. Vidal pops up on the radar in different cities, but then he disappears. They’ve got their shit under aliases I still need to uncover.”
My hands are tied at what I have access to here at work. The criminals don’t do shit the right way, so we only have information of those who have been caught or talked or from our own recon missions. But, at this point, Vidal and Collins are nothing of interest in the system.
“Let me make some calls,” Koyn says finally. “Jameson, the prez in New Orleans with the Royal Bastards National chapter, might know some shit. Same with Animal. Arkansas is close enough to Tennessee they might have some bleed off from this. I’ve also got a Royal Bastards guy out west. King’s in Santa Clarita, California. Might not get his surly ass out here, but he’s knowledgeable. His chapter goes after the wealthy traffickers of the victims. He might know some shit and if he doesn’t, he’ll be down to help.”
“And when we locate these motherfuckers?”
Koyn chuckles, dark and deep. “Then we call Loki.”
“God of Mischief?”
“No, dumbass, God of Torture. Otherwise known as prez of the Royal Bastards Reno, Nevada chapter.”
“All right then. Let’s do this.”
“Three steps ahead of you, brother. Three steps ahead.”
I’m eager as hell to get home to my woman. If she’s still there. Doubt clouds around me like a fog, thick and unyielding. I have no other option but to trust Stormy. If she leaves and fucks me over, I’ll deal with that shit then. I can’t worry over what hasn’t happened, though.
Grabbing my file, I climb out of my truck and head inside. The dogs are outside acting like heathens in the woods, chasing whatever it is that’s pissed them off today, so when I walk into my house, I’m met with silence. Unease settles in my gut. She’s probably napping. My eyes skim around the front room and I’m surprised to see Stormy has cleaned. The house smells like mop cleaner. I could kiss her for how shiny my floors are right now.
“Hey, baby, I’m home,” I call out. “I really want to fuck you on these clean floors. Where the hell are you, woman?”
Silence.
She wouldn’t clean the house and bail. That’s fucking stupid. Still, I’m unnerved when I don’t find her in the kitchen or my bedroom. Her bedroom got emptied over the weekend as I moved her clothes and shit into mine, but she’s not in there either. I’m just headed to check the gym downstairs when I stop off at my office. Turning the knob, I push inside.
Sitting at my desk like she owns the place, Stormy is deep in thought, my giant pair of headphones pulled over her ears as she nods to the music she’s listening to on the computer. Papers are strewn out all over the desk where she’s been making notes about something. She’s a different person than the one I left, who was just fucked and only wearing my T-shirt. Now, she’s hot as fuck in a tight white T-shirt that reveals her pointy nipples and some yoga pants. Her long blond hair has been smoothed straight and hangs over her shoulders in shiny tresses I want to tangle my fingers in. It’s clear she dolled herself up for me because her face is made up with a shit ton of makeup. Even though I prefer her fresh-faced, I can’t deny how hard my dick gets when I know she did all this for me.
I sneak back out of the office to take a quick shower to wash the day’s grime off me. My dick has remained at half-mast since I saw her looking so fucking beautiful sitting at my desk. Quickly, I rush out of the shower, a towel loosely tied around my waist, eager to get back to her. I’m about to exit the bathroom when Stormy rounds the corner.
“Weren’t even going to come say hi, huh?” Her blue eyes glitter, but her mouth is pouty.
“Hi.”
“Asshole.”
“Come here,” I growl, dropping my towel in exchange for grabbing my woman.
She whimpers as my mouth crashes against hers. I kiss her like I haven’t seen her in eight years, not eight hours. Our tongues tangle and thrash, each of us desperate to taste the other. I finger the hem of her T-shirt and pull it up over her body, ridding her of the offending material so I can see her gorgeous tits. She moans when I caress the fat mounds, thumbing her hard nipples.
“Mine,” I growl.
She grips my aching dick. “Mine.”
“That so, huh?” I smirk at her.
Her lips kick up into a wicked grin. “Gonna claim it right now.”
“Fuck,” I groan as she drops to her knees, her blue eyes peering up at me.
“Shhh,” she says before licking the tip that leaks with pre-cum. “I have promises to make to my little friend right now.”
I grab a handful of her silky hair in my punishing grip. “Little?”
“Would you rather I call it precious?”
“You’re such a bitch,” I grunt out. “Put my big dick in your mouth and choke on it, little storm. I want to watch your mascara run as you gag on it.”
She runs her tongue up and down my shaft in a tortuous, teasing way. “It’s too big for my mouth,” she murmurs, making her voice soft and breathy like she’s innocent.
Stormy is far from fucking innocent.
“Try, beautiful.”
Her eyes gleam at my praise and she wraps her juicy, pink lips around my cock. It’s a stretch, but this woman has a big mouth. I like that I can shut her up with my big dick and that she can take it. The scrape of her teeth along my shaft has me hissing and my grip in her hair tightening. Blue eyes water as she regards me with a look of pure adoration.
Fuck.
I’m going to fall so hard for this bitch.
So fucking hard.
She grabs hold of my balls, her eyes lighting up in a threatening way that has my blood pressure spiking, but all she does is rub at them. It feels so fucking good to have her mouth on me. I can’t even remember the last time I had my dick sucked, but I can say for a fact no blowjob ever felt this damn good.
Stormy hums and gags as she attempts to swallow my dick. Saliva runs down her chin and her eyes leak, sending streaks of black skating down her red cheeks. So fucking pretty. My painful grip in her hair turns soft. I stroke her hair and lock eyes with her. In one stare, I tell her exactly what’s on my mind.
I want you.
I need you.
I trust you.
She’s intuitive and must read my thoughts because her eyes water for different reasons than choking on dick. I’ve made her happy. And that fucking makes me happy. Soon, Stormy has my nuts drawing up with pleasure. My strangled sounds of pleasure are her only warning of what’s to come. Like a good girl, she intensifies her efforts, sucking me like a fucking Hoover. I groan as I empty my release into her waiting, constricting throat that eagerly swallows my dick like it’s a fucking Slurpee. Hot cum jets down her throat, filling her up with me.
“You’re really damn good at that,” I praise, my voice hoarse and raspy.
I pull her to her feet and hug her to me. Her body relaxes in my arms.
“Thank you for not leaving.” I kiss the top of her head. “And since I didn’t get arrested, thanks for not calling the cops on me either.”
“You’re growing on me, Jeremy Koynakov.” She winks before she starts to pull away, but I’m not ready to let her go yet. “What?”
“Just want to look at you a little while longer.”
All the smugness from giving me the best fucking blowjob ever fades away. Vulnerability shines in her pretty blue eyes. “Like what you see?”
“You have no fucking idea, little storm. No idea.”