Chapter Twelve
Four Days Later
Monday morning, I had Fred Hoffman’s employment contract in my inbox. I printed a copy of it at work and brought it home with me that night. It was thirty pages, which felt a bit excessive.
Upon my initial read, I decided I was right.
It took me nearly all night to weed out the bits and pieces I didn’t think were relevant for my assigned task in order to focus on the parts likely to have the greatest possibility for weakness. Then it wasn’t until Wednesday night, at nearly nine, when I thought I had what I needed.
I called Jed first—mostly because I missed him and wanted to hear his voice. He texted Bull while we were still on the phone, and it was his idea for my next meeting with the Stallions’ president to take place at the clubhouse during my lunch break the following afternoon. It would be easier for Jed to step away from the garage to say hi.
I didn’t need convincing.
Before we said goodnight, Bull texted back, confirming our meeting at one o’clock.
Thursday felt like a great day to wear a dress.
I chose a sleeveless, white dress with a boat neck that hugged me down to my waist. The skirt flared just slightly, its hem stopping a couple inches above my knee. It was incredibly simple, but flattering and elegant. I did my makeup as usual and styled my hair back into a neat, low ponytail for a bit of drama. I finished the look with a pair of floral print, stiletto heel sandals with a T-strap that clasped around my ankles.
The shoes were definitely my favorite part.
I arrived on the Wild Stallions compound ten minutes early, and I used a couple of those minutes to apply a fresh coat of lipstick before exiting my car. Satisfied with my appearance, I hooked my purse over my arm, stepped out of my Corolla, and purposefully made my way toward the open bays at Stallion Motors.
I caught a little attention, even managed to earn a whistle and a catcall. If it was any other day at any other garage, I would have been annoyed—but that afternoon, I wanted to make a scene.
“Hey there, pretty lady. You here for a tune-up? Cause I’d be more than happy to help you out with that.”
I barely paid attention to the man who spoke as he made his way toward me, too busy searching the garage for my target. A coy smile pulled one corner of my mouth when I spotted him. He stopped what he was doing and peeked out at me from where he stood, bent over the innards of an SUV, the hood suspended over his head. He had his hair pulled back in a messy knot, leaving his eyes unobscured—which meant I got to watch as he took me in from top to toe.
“Fuck off, Dog,” he muttered, his eyes still pinned on me. “That one’s mine.”
I wasn’t sure if Dog was an insult or a road name, but I didn’t look to see if the man was insulted. As soon as Jed spoke, he straightened. Suddenly, I wished I hadn’t chosen white.
Jed Barker was hot in jeans, a tee, and his kutte.
Stripped naked, he was a beautiful, chiseled dream.
But in the middle of a warm afternoon at the garage—he was downright sinful.
His coveralls only covered half of him, the top half worn with the sleeves tied around his hips. He had on a white tank, smudged with grease and sweat, exposing his tattoo-covered arms and broad shoulders. As he came toward me, he pulled a rag out of his back pocket and wiped at his hands.
I hadn’t seen him in four days. I knew I missed him. At least, I thought I knew, until he was two feet in front of me—and then I really knew.
I’d missed him terribly.
“I shouldn’t have worn white,” I breathed.
He grinned, my insides defied gravity, and he kept coming toward me until his hand was clasped around the back of my neck.
“I’ll foot the dry-cleaning bill,” he insisted before he pressed his mouth firmly against mine.
As I fell a little harder, I parted my lips in invitation, forgetting entirely that we weren’t alone. He kissed me like he always did, and I pressed my hands against his abdomen, leaning into him as my thong got a little damp. It was me who broke our stride when I couldn’t hold back my laughter—the jeering of the guys too obnoxious to ignore.
Jed lifted his mouth from mine with a smirk, a little of my lipstick smudged across his lips. I reached up to wipe it away, then blindly ran my thumb under my bottom lip in hopes that I didn’t look like I just made-out with a totally hot mechanic five minutes before a pretty important meeting.
“Tell me the truth, do I look like a hot mess?”
“Hot? Hell yeah. Mess? Not at all. Come on, darlin’.”
He let go of my neck and took my hand—his fingers a little grimy, but not nearly enough for me to dare think of dropping them—and we started for the clubhouse.
Upon entering, the first thing I noticed was just how big it was inside. It was hard to tell from the front of the building, but the depth of the space was notable. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but it was kind of cool—the masculine, leather décor; the fully stocked bar; the pool tables and dart boards. It was like a legitimate clubhouse, the way a kid might think of it, but for a bunch of bikers.
There were a couple of guys sitting at the bar with beer in front of them, and they glanced our way before jerking their chins at Jed as we passed. He led me to a long hallway, a stretch of doors on either side to the right, what I assumed were bathrooms straight ahead, and a single door to the left.
We went left, and I was soon in what was obviously a conference room with a large round table and chairs. Bull was inside, standing next to the last man who was there the night I was kidnapped. They both looked our way as we entered.
“Torres, this is Twister,” greeted Bull. “He’s my VP.”
“Nice to officially meet you.”
Even as I said the words, it felt not exactly true. I squeezed Jed’s hand and let him go as I stepped forward and said, “Actually, I’ve been thinking—the only person’s real name I know is Jed’s. Assuming you don’t sign any documents as Bull or Twister , I think it would be remiss of me to not ask for your real names.”
“Fair enough,” said Bull with a crooked smile. “Roy Douglas.”
“Tell you what,” began Twister. “You tell us what you got, I’ll give you my name.”
“She already has your record, Benson Wright. Needed it for the mediation.”
I could hear the smile in Jed’s voice before I glanced back at him to confirm it.
“Ah, so you’re the bar fight from a few years back,” I teased.
“Well, shit,” replied Benson good-naturedly. “Let’s get on with it then.”
Jed pulled out a chair for me, and we all sat before I took out my notes and got down to business.
“Fred made it pretty difficult to get out of his contract without cause or severance. Given the length of the thing, and its five-year renewal date, my guess is he’s been adding to it over the last couple of decades to protect himself and his salary. And given his tenure, the amount you’d have to pay him to leave is astronomical.”
“Tell me you found grounds for termination,” muttered Roy.
“I think I did. Jed told me the other day that Hoffman has taken on Borrero as a client. Since you and the cartel are not in the same line of business, I know he’s not technically fraternizing with the competition—but that doesn’t mean it’s not a conflict of interest.
“He’s not a Wild Stallion, but he does have to abide by the organization’s code of conduct. He outlined them in the agreement. Protecting the innocent is an admirable and notable obligation of the Stallions. And this is where I come in. I won’t say it was worth it—because it was terrifying—but my kidnapping, while it had nothing to do with the Wild Stallions, will help us build this case.”
“You’re shittin’ me,” muttered Benson.
“I assure you I am not. The fact that it was carried out by Borrero, who is now tied to Hoffman, is the linchpin.”
“Bad fuckin’ luck for Freddy boy.”
“Serves him right,” piped in Jed. “You play with snakes, you’ll get bit.”
Roy nodded as he propped his forearms against the table and leaned into the conversation, his curiosity piqued. “Alright, Torres—lay it out.”
We discussed my strategy for the next thirty minutes, the guys contributing more information that strengthened my angle of Hoffman’s disregard for the code of conduct. I wrote it all down with the intention of drawing up a formal letter of termination for Roy to present to Fred when he was ready.
“Let’s talk timing. You said you wanted to give notice,” commented Roy.
I drew in a deep breath and let it out in a huff.
This was happening.
I did it.
Roy wishing to talk timing made it all the more real.
I wanted the job. I spent the last four nights working to make it a possibility—but it was a huge career move, and it would have been short-sighted of me not to take a breath and remind myself exactly what I was doing.
And what I was doing was taking a leap of faith in myself .
“I do,” I replied with a decisive nod. “If I could have until the end of the month, I think that should suffice.”
“That’s fine. We’ll set somethin’ up with Hoffman in a couple weeks. In the meantime, I’ll send over our generic employee agreement. Make any changes you want, send it my way, I’ll have a look at it, and we’ll make this official.” He stood and offered me his hand. “Nice work,” he said with a shake.
“Thank you.”
I smiled to myself as I gathered my notes and tucked them back into my purse. Roy and Benson were already on their way out when I stood to leave.
“You in a rush?” asked Jed.
“No. Why?”
He took my hand and turned for the door as he instructed, “Come with me.”
I was quick to follow his lead, my heels marking time against the concrete floors with my steps as we journeyed out of the conference room and down the opposite end of the hallway. When we reached the fifth door on the right, he pulled me inside, slammed the door shut, then backed me up against it before closing his mouth around mine.
I hummed, slightly startled by the sound, a bit curious where we were, but totally willing to indulge in Jed’s kiss.
I dropped my purse at our feet, freeing both hands to reach for him. I took hold of the back of his neck, pulling myself closer as I slipped my tongue through his parted lips.
“Missed you,” he mumbled between kisses, making my knees weak.
“Me, too,” I managed.
“Do you have any fuckin’ clue how sexy it is to witness that brain of yours at work?”
I sucked in a quiet gasp, at a loss for words.
As he licked his way around my lips, I knew the question was rhetorical.
At least, I hoped it was. It was impossible to think with his body plastering me to the door.
“Plan on fuckin’ you.”
“Now?” I breathed, peering at him, barely lit by the little bit of light coming from a high, narrow window across the room.
“Yup.”
My whole body shivered in anticipation.
I still wasn’t sure where we were, but we were alone, and that was enough.
“Okay.”
“Know I said I’d foot the bill—but if you don’t want me to touch your dress, I suggest you take it off now.”
I let go of him, and he took a step back, hands in the air as I bent my arms to grasp the zipper at my back. When it was open, I shimmied the dress off my shoulders, and pulled it down, carefully stepping out if it.
“There’s a hook on the door, darlin’.”
I turned, spotted the hook, hung my dress, then faced him once more—still in my stilettos, my thong, and my bra.
Tilting my head to one side, I asked, “What was it you told me the other day about women in heels and g-strings?”
He threw his head back in laughter, and I squeezed my thighs together at the sound. It was rich, and resonant, and almost as beautiful as the smile which accompanied it.
“Know this, gorgeous,” he began as he recovered himself. “You’ve got more class in your pinky toe than any club sheep walkin’ these halls mostly naked. You’re a whole lot prettier, too.”
I took a slow step toward him and grabbed the front of his tank, pressing my breasts against his chest as I leaned into him invitingly.
He took the bait, and the next thing I knew, I was being carried across the room. He laid me down on a bed, and it smelled like sandalwood and leather and a hint of motor oil—like him. I then watched as he rummaged through the top drawer of a nightstand until he found what he was after.
“Spread those legs, darlin’. I want to see you touch yourself.”
I bit my lower lip, a little self-conscious, but not enough to deny him. He held the condom between his teeth as he began to untie his coveralls, and I opened my knees and slid my hand into my thong. I freed a sigh as I grazed my fingers across my wet entrance before traveling back up to swirl them around my clit.
When Jed opened his jeans and pulled out his dick, I whimpered and shoved two fingers inside of me, feeling suddenly ravenous. He stroked himself a couple of times as he watched me, and that turned me on even more.
“Papi,” I breathed. “ Hurry ,” I begged.
Nothing more needed to be said.
He ripped open the condom and rolled it on without further delay. With his jeans and coveralls shoved down to his knees, he bent over me. I moved my hand as he shoved aside my thong, and then he impaled me—deep and hard.
“ Yes ,” I moaned.
He didn’t take his time but rode me fast and deliberate. The sound of his skin slapping against mine made me wetter, and I gasped as I surrendered to the heat of the moment.
I was on my lunch break, having sex at the Wild Stallions clubhouse.
It was entirely possible I was living someone else’s life.
But I really I hoped I wasn’t, because I had no desire to give it back.
“Breathe, Lex,” he said with a smirk.
“I. Am.” I panted, unable to get out more than one syllable at a time. “Oh. Yes!”
With one hand wrapped around the back of his neck, my other clasped onto his shoulder, I arched the small of my back and tried to breathe.
Except, it hit so fast and so big, it was like there was no room for air inside of me.
“Jed—oh, papi ,” I cried as my orgasm shook me from my core.
“That’s it, gorgeous. Fuckin’ come for me,” grunted Jed in reply as he pummeled into me harder, his hips moving faster.
Then, just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, he buried himself deep and stilled, his face tucked between my neck and shoulder. He freed a soft groan, pulled out and thrust back in one last time before he was spent.
“That was. So hot,” I managed, still short of breath.
Jed chuckled then pressed a wet kiss against my neck before shoving an arm underneath me and rolling us both. My feet dangled over the side of the bed as I straddled his lap, and my ponytail slid over my shoulder and draped over his as I stared down at him.
“Come over tomorrow night.”
I shook my head in confusion. “Um—what?”
He was still inside of me, I hadn’t caught my breath, and I was sure I hadn’t heard him correctly.
“Tomorrow night. I’ll have a little cookout, invite a couple brothers and their clans. You can come over, meet the kids and hang out.”
“Oh,” I murmured, totally in love with his idea.
It was subtle and low-pressure.
I mean, aside from the part where I’d be meeting his kids.
That felt kind of huge.
But so were my feelings for him.
“That sounds perfect.”
“Good.” He pressed a quick kiss against my lips then asked, “You got time left for lunch?”
“Probably just enough to grab a quick sandwich on my way back to the office.”
“Alright. I’ll leave you to get dressed while I go deal with this condom.”
“Okay.”
I climbed off of him, he pulled up his pants, and then he left me to get dressed. When I was as put together as I could be, I met him in the hallway, and he walked me to my car.
After a short parting kiss, I headed back to the office.
Rather than disappointment at having spent so little time with Jed after so many days apart, I was sated and excited at the prospect of seeing him the next day.
Finally, I was going to get to meet Marlowe and Axel.
More than that, I was going to get to see Jed as dad .