Chapter Eighteen
Colter
I expected the distance she kept from me after I came back from dealing with the condom to find the bed empty.
She was new to, well, feelings.
In general.
Let alone ones that had to do with another person.
She needed to try to get away from them.
She hadn’t realized yet that there was no outrunning them.
I would simply be there waiting when she did.
Even if I didn’t love how she purposely kept either Saint or Syn between us like human shields.
Or how she volunteered to help Syn put a better camera up, since the footage we’d gotten from the night before had been grainy as fuck.
Saint had spent the afternoon while I was in bed with Dylan finding a store with a better selection of cameras.
“Think the current teams might be best,” Saint said when I didn’t object right away.
“Why?”
“Because Syn and I know each other best. And you and Colter know each other better. It’s not a good idea to fuck with the dynamic.”
Then, before she could object, he took off with his brother in tow.
“It was a valiant try,” I said, shooting her a smirk.
“Don’t gloat,” she said, backhanding me lightly across the chest. “Was the footage really that bad?” she asked.
“Everyone kind of looked like ghosts. The night vision made them all lose any clear features.”
“That sucks. Did you make anyone out?”
“Rook was able to identify Roach since we already had pictures of him to compare to. He was working on trying to improve the pictures, but he didn’t sound hopeful. We did get a frustratingly clear video of someone pissing against a tree. But other than that, it was all garbage.”
“Maybe we should have tried out the new cameras before we came back out here.”
“It’s not a waste. Hopefully, we can see some of the guys with our own eyes.”
We fell silent for a while then, just listening to the wind and crickets, both lost in our own thoughts.
Until, eventually, two of the men moved outside.
We weren’t close enough to hear what they were saying, but their body language was doing a lot of talking.
One was throwing his hand out.
The other was pointing at the other guy’s chest.
Both seemed to be yelling.
Until one jammed his finger into the other guy.
Then the fight broke out, fists swinging and colliding. Blood spurted out of one guy’s nose. Then the other one’s mouth.
Eventually, they moved down to the ground, both of them rolling around in the dirt, each trying to get the upper hand.
Not long after that, the front door burst open.
One of the guys saw what was happening and yelled back.
Then it seemed like the whole damn club poured out to watch and place bets.
I was so busy scanning the group, making sure no one was breaking away and closing in on us, that I missed something important.
Until I heard a low, angry snarl just a few feet away.
I straightened, grabbing Dylan and shoving her behind me as I stared down one of the Rottweilers.
“Try to stay calm,” I said, arms out to make myself seem bigger. Though I had no idea if that worked for dogs or if it was just a bear thing.
But fucking Dylan ducked under my arm.
“Hey, baby,” she cooed, using her sweet animal voice. “You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you? Oh, yes, big scary growl. We’re so afraid.”
She didn’t sound afraid.
I was almost pissing myself.
I mean, yeah, I had a gun. And a knife. But I’d never killed an animal, and I really hoped never to have to.
“You don’t have to be mad at us. We’re good people,” she said.
I was close enough that I felt her moving but had no idea what she was doing until I saw something fling out in front of me.
It landed a foot or so in front of the dog.
Some kind of treat.
The dog let out another growl but paused to sniff the treat before gobbling it up.
“That’s yummy, huh?”
“Is that chicken jerky?” I asked as another little piece went flying.
“I shoved a bunch in my pockets in case they let the dogs out again,” Dylan admitted. “I gave Sugar an IOU. God, she’s kind of skinny, isn’t she?”
I hadn’t noticed the night before. She was right, though. The dog’s hips pinched inward a little too sharply, and several ribs were visible under her dull fur.
I couldn’t imagine a guy like Roach, who drugged up women until they agreed to a life of sex work, would be a great pet owner.
The dogs probably lived on scraps around the clubhouse, not actual meals.
“Want more?” Dylan cooed, tossing another piece. “Oh, and here’s your buddy. Hi, bub. You want yummy chicken treats too? Yes, that’s a good dog. More?” she asked, moving out from behind me.
“What are you doing?” I asked, grabbing her arm.
“Making them like me,” she said, then slipped back into her sweet voice. “Right? You like me. I’m the chicky treat lady. That’s right. You can take it.”
Sure enough, the first dog crept forward to take it right from her fingers. Then the second one.
Within a few minutes, they were letting her pet them.
“Yeah, we’re good people. Come pet them,” she demanded.
“Why?”
“So they don’t rip our throats out when we eventually force our way into the clubhouse.
No throats for you, right, baby?” she said to the one dog, petting her giant head.
“Just chicky treats. Yes, that’s some sweet babies.
Here,” she said, passing me the last of her treats so the dogs would associate me with them too.
“Good boy,” I told the one who licked my fingers after he ate his chew.
“I wish we brought more. You’re too skinny. As if I needed more reason to hate that bastard.”
“We can bring food tomorrow,” I told her, seeing the sad look in her eye.
“I’m gonna make him pay for this,” she said, rubbing the dog’s ribs. “You’re never gonna have to be hungry again.”
“They’re gonna be okay,” I assured her. “We will feed them while we gather intel. Then we will take care of them once we take out the others.”
“Yeah. It just sucks.”
There was a shrill whistle, making the dogs stiffen, then whimper at us, looking conflicted before turning and running.
“I fucking hate him,” Dylan snarled as she watched the dogs run back to the man who mistreated them.
The fight was long over, the two men bloodied but slapping each other on the backs as they walked back into the clubhouse.
“I know you do.” And I hated him for her. And the girls. And the dogs.
“Let’s hope Saint and Syn saw more than we did. I wasn’t even paying attention.”
I’d seen a small amount right before the dogs. After that, my concern was making sure Dylan didn’t get mauled.
The night was still relatively young, but the longer we stood there, the louder the music and noise grew from inside. It became pretty clear that no one was coming back out when Saint and Syn made their way back over to us.
We trudged back to the bikes.
“Did you guys see anything worthwhile?” I asked when we were far enough away not to worry about being overheard.
“Noted a bunch of faces and some ink,” Saint said. “Might be able to work with that. Especially if the video is clearer. We’ll check when we get back to the hotel.”
“Sounds good,” I agreed. Even if I had no intention of sitting around staring at a screen when I could be spending time with Dylan.
But when we got back to the hotel, Dylan didn’t climb off her bike.
“Everything alright?” I asked.
“Any chance you want to take Sugar for a walk?” she asked, looking at Syn.
“Yeah, I got her. Just need your keycard.”
She already had it in her hand.
Saint said nothing.
Both of them just turned and walked into the hotel.
“You okay?” I asked.
“I just need to clear my head.”
“You going for a ride?”
“Yeah.”
“Alone?”
To that, she glanced at me, then behind her.
I’d never ridden bitch in my life.
But for her?
I climbed on.
Then we were off.
I could tell she was working through whatever was in her head when she let off the gas a bit, taking the curves more slowly, overall just seeming like she wasn’t trying to outrun something anymore.
Eventually, she turned off the main roads, driving us away from the storefronts and houses until all that was left was sandy terrain and brambly bushes.
Then she was pulled off the road completely, dust kicking up around us. She moved closer and closer to a small, falling-apart red shed. Finally, she cut the engine.
She put down the kickstand.
I lowered my legs to the ground for stability.
“Where are we?” I asked as she pulled off her helmet.
“Does it matter?”
Then she turned until her legs were draped over mine, grabbed my face, and pulled me down until her lips met mine.
Her hands shifted, working the buckle of my helmet free, pulling it off, and tossing it to the side.
All the while, she kissed me like she was sick of waiting—rough, demanding, no room for hesitation.
Her arms wrapped around the back of my neck as mine went around her waist, pulling until she was up on my lap with no question about how badly I wanted her.
She moaned against my lips as her hips rocked against my cock.
My hands slid under her shirt, moving into the cups of her bra and palming her breasts. Then circling, rolling, pinching until she broke the kiss so her head could fall back on a cry.
I yanked up her shirt, leaned forward, and sucked one of her nipples into my mouth. Then I teased, sucked, scraped, and nipped before moving across her chest to drag out the torment.
Her hands were needy then. They worked my button and zipper free, reached inside, and fisted my cock, stroking me until I was too far gone to care that we weren’t exactly hidden, that someone could pass by, that we would be breaking decency laws.
I just grabbed her and climbed off the bike.
I set her on her feet and reached into my wallet for a condom, brushing her hands out of the way, then sliding it on.
But Dylan wasn’t the type of woman to stand there and just watch. Her hands went to her waistband, pushing the button through, pulling down her zipper, then shimmying her jeans and panties down her hips.
A low, primal growl escaped me when she grabbed my hand and pressed it between her thighs, showing me how fucking ready for me she already was.
My fingers slipped inside her, thrusting hard and fast until she was whimpering and pushing me away, only to turn her back on me, bend forward, and lean on the bike.
“Fuck,” I groaned as my hand went automatically to her ass, massaging it before giving her a playful slap.
“Fuck me,” she demanded, her voice raw with need.
And, well, I couldn’t deny her what she wanted, now, could I?
I stepped closer, sliding my cock up and down her wet cleft for a minute just to watch how she wiggled and squirmed.
Only then did I slam deep inside her, feeling her tight, hot walls close around me as her moan filled the night air.
There was no exploring this time, no building of intimacy. It was pure, raw desire as I grabbed her hips, slamming her back against me each time I thrust forward.
Dylan’s moans were unfiltered as she got closer and closer.
One arm reached back, grabbing my forearm, as if she needed the connection, while she tightened around me.
Then, with a cry that I would remember for the rest of my fucking life, she came.
Her whole body shuddered as her pussy clenched around me over and over.
I damn near came with her right then.
But before I could even think about it, she was straightening, then making me slide out of her as she turned.
The heat in her eyes was scorching as she grabbed me, pulling downward until I did what she wanted.
I got down on the ground.
Then she was climbing over me, her molten gaze holding mine as she grabbed the base of my cock, holding onto it as she positioned herself, then slid down onto me.
Her head fell back, a raw, almost pained sound escaping her.
My hands went to her hips, giving them a squeeze.
Her gaze slid back to mine.
Then, eyes locked, she started to ride me hard and fast, the need still as desperate as she’d been a few moments ago.
As for me, I just enjoyed the fucking show.
Because I wasn’t sure I’d ever seen anything as beautiful as her riding me right then—her dark eyes needy, her face blooming pink with pleasure, her full lips falling open with moans that grew louder with each passing moment.
I felt the switch, the tightening, the way every muscle in her body contracted.
Her hands reached downward a bit frantically, reaching for my hands on her hips, then sliding her fingers between mine, holding on. Only then did she come, crying out, pulsing, trembling.
Like she needed the connection first.
And I couldn’t hold off anymore at that.
I jerked upward and came while she was still clenching around me.
I slipped my hands from between hers, pulling her downward until her face was nestled in my neck, her breath warm on my skin, her body covering mine.
Neither of us seemed in a hurry to move as my hands slid up and down her back, over her shoulders, through her hair.
“We’re going to be so filthy,” she said, face still buried in my neck.
“Hm?” I asked, too distracted by how right this felt to understand her meaning.
“The ground. It’s so dry. We’re going to be completely covered in dust.”
“Got a long drive back to the hotel to blow off.”
She lifted up, looking down at me with a twinkle in her eye and a smile tugging at her lips.
“I still can’t believe you were willing to ride bitch.”
“Baby,” I said, tucking her hair behind her ear as it fell to curtain us, “I’ll willingly be behind you any fucking time you want.”
That got a big smile out of her. It was the kind that crinkled her eyes.
“Good to know,” she said, sliding back onto my lap, then slowly getting to her feet.
Sure enough, dust went everywhere.
And we both laughed as we got back into our clothes and dusted ourselves off the best we could. But we were both wearing black, and the damn stuff was stuck in the fibers of our clothes. It was hopeless.
But we didn’t seem to care as we got back on the bike and rode to the hotel.
When we realized Sugar had been kidnapped by Syn to hang out in his room, Dylan turned back to me, a wicked gleam in her eye.
“What’s that look for?”
She reached out, grabbing a handful of my shirt, and tugged me back toward the bathroom with her.
“We got this dirty together. Let’s get cleaned up together too.”