Lucky
Chapter Six
Olivia is curled up on my bed when I come back. I’d worried on the whole drive back that she’d be gone when I arrived. As many questions as I have for her, she’ll have more for me. She knows I’m connected to a MC, and I wouldn’t blame her for calling a cab the second the door closed.
Instead, she’s buried in the covers, wearing my shirt, her bad ankle sticking out on a folded towel. I sit down on the end of the bed and she turns towards me; she’s been crying.
“You asked me a question about how I got these scars and I told you it was a long story. You got time now?”
She sniffs and nods her head.
“I flew medevac. Overseas, Afghanistan.” I lay my hands on my knees, palms facing up. “We went in for a team taking fire, got them all loaded in the bird. We took a round through the fuel line on the way out… I had to put her down in a field maybe a mile in.”
The bed shifts as she moves closer, but she doesn’t touch me.
“Everybody was alive when we hit the ground.” I clear my throat. “The fire was bad. I got six of them clear.”
“Luke.”
“So I went back in for the seventh.” I turn my hands over. They’re shiny with scar tissue across the backs, tight knots over the knuckles. “I got him out, but you see what happened. Still, they gave me the nickname Lucky, so I guess it wasn’t all bad.”
Her hand comes onto my shoulder. Then it slides down over the ruined side of my back and stays there, flat between my shoulder blades.
“Thank you for telling me.”
“Don't. There's more of it, but that’s all I’ve got today.”
“Then I'll tell you what you wanted to know.”
“My real name is Olivia Martin,” she says. “I'm an investigative journalist and I've never published under my own name in my life. I mainly work undercover, exposing big corporations, so I keep my identity secret.”
“For your family?”
“My mother and father are dead, car accident when I was ten. But my aunt raised me, and I don’t want anything linked back to her, or my cousins.”
I turn around.
“I’ve done four months deep undercover on Rotmere.
It’s a high-level blackmail operation. They get VIPs up there, give them every deplorable thing they want, recording all of it.
After that they own them.” Her hands scrunch the covers.
“ Drugs, money-laundering; the courts can’t touch them.
And I think there are women up there who can't leave. There’s someone inside feeding me intel…
I’m worried about her. I’ve screwed up before. ”
“Go on.”
“When I started out, I trusted a colleague with a source's name. But he wasn't careful with it. Inside a month, the source had lost her job, then her house, then her husband.” Her mouth twists. “I never trust anyone now. It costs too much. Which is why I don’t know why I’m telling you this.”
She looks up, her brown eyes wet and furious.
“You flew that little plane onto a mountain in the dark to come and get me, and you’ve turned my world upside down.”
Prez told me I can’t trust her. But deep in my bones, I know I can. For the first time since joining the MC, I disobey a direct order.
“I'm not Rotmere's pilot. I was undercover for the High Vale Outlaws.” I stand up. “Prez put me on the job for a reason. All the manifests you’ve seen, any info I’ve gathered has been handed to Doc the same night.”
Her eyebrows shoot up.
“Olivia, you've done in four months what we've been building for two years. All on your own. It’s so fucking brave.” I clear my throat. “And I've been lying to you about it since the moment I met you.”
“Prez told you not to tell me.”
“Yep. Reminded me again today. He’s going to be pissed.”
“Then why?”
“Because you need to know you can trust me like I trust you. No secrets.”
I walk back to the bed and lean down, lifting her chin up and pressing my mouth down on hers. Her mouth opens as I kiss her, and she makes a little moaning sound that goes straight to my cock.
I get an arm around her waist and scoop her up into my arms.
“Tell me you're sure.”
“I'm sure, Lucky. Take me to bed… we’re right over it anyway.” She laughs, breathlessly, and then stops laughing when I set her down. My shirt comes off over her head.
She's soft everywhere, all curves, with freckles scattered over her shoulders. Her hair is loose across my pillow, and she's watching me look at her, meeting my gaze.
“You are beyond beautiful,” I tell her. “You've got no idea how much I want you.”
Her cheeks flush.
I try to go slow, but she doesn’t want me to. Her hands scrabble at my belt, dragging off my shirt. Eventually I catch both her wrists in one hand and put them up over her head against the wall and hold them there.
“Sweetheart. Let me look at you.”
Her eyes go soft as her thighs wrap around my hips. The whole of her body seems to relax, like she’s letting go.
“Your hands stay above your head.” I tell her. “Don't you dare move them.”
“Or what?” She winks at me.
“I stop.”
“That's so rude…” But she leaves her hands above her head.
Moving my lips to her throat, I feel her pulse hammering away.
Down over her collarbone and then to her tits.
They’re heavy and perfect in my hands. When I get my mouth on her nipple, rolling the other between my fingers, she arches up off the bed.
She moans, bucking her hips like she wants to grind against something.
“Please…”
“I'm getting there.”
“Slowly. I want you.”
“I’ve been dreaming about you for weeks… I'm not rushing it.”
I work my way down her belly, over the softness there, her breathing quickening. The muscles in her arms are taut as she stretches them above her head.
When I get to her hips I stop and gaze at her again.
“Put that ankle up on my shoulder… the good one can stay on the bed.”
“Do you know how bossy you are?”
“I thought you said you liked it?”
“I wasn’t of sound mind.” Her voice cracks in the middle. “Luke…”
I put my mouth on her clit and both her hands come down into my hair. She's wet and hot. She tastes so good that my cock jerks, desperate to be inside her. I take my time, working her slowly with my tongue while she moans louder and louder.
“Good girl.” I tell her. “Let me hear you.”
She's saying my name, over and over again while her thighs tremble against my ears. I slide my fingers into her, my tongue moving faster on her clit, and one hand fists in my hair. She comes so hard I put my other hand under her ass to give her support as she arches up off the bed.
I stay with her as she works through her orgasms, keeping my mouth on her until she’s shaking her head.
“Too much… I can’t take it.”
She’s flushed pink all the way down her chest, her eyes sparkling.
“You look pleased with yourself,” she says.
I smile at her. Then she smiles back, gets her hand between us and wraps it around my cock. I groan.
“Olivia…”
She strokes me slowly, watching my face the whole time, learning what I like. “You've been leading this. Now it’s my turn.”
She pushes me onto my back. Her mouth is soft and unbearably slow, her silky hair spilling over my hips. I grip the sheet with both hands and groan louder. She hums around my cock and I nearly levitate off the bed.
“Sweetheart… I want to be inside you.”
She lets go and crawls up the bed.
“I'm on the pill and I've had every test known to medicine. What about you?”
“Clean. Nobody in years.”
“Good.”
She reaches down, holding my cock and guides me into her, letting her knees take the weight. She slides down an inch at a time with her hands braced on my chest, her eyes locked on mine.
She's so tight and hot that I have to grip her hips and hold still.
“Give me a second.”
“No,” she says, and starts to move.
The sight of her above me with her head back and her tits bouncing makes me lose my mind. I sit up under her, both arms around her back for support, and she gets her arms around my neck. We’re face to face.
“Look at me,” I tell her. “Say my name.”
She says it into my mouth as I kiss her, working my cock steadily into her. My hand slides down between us and finds her clit, and she buries her face in my neck and moans.
“I’ve got you. That's it, gorgeous… let go."
She comes hard and the feeling of her pulsing against my cock takes me straight over with her. I shout her name, holding her, my mouth against her neck. We stay tangled up for a long time as our breathing slows.
Her cheek is on my chest, with one leg thrown over both of mine. She’s tracing the burn scar along my ribs with a fingertip, back and forth, like she’s memorizing it. Then she shifts down and puts her mouth on the scar. Right in the middle of the worst of it.
“Olivia.”
“Shh.”
She kisses her way along the whole ruined length of my side, taking her time. I lie there and let her, a warmth blossoming in my chest.
“You know I have to tell Prez what you’re doing,” I say, when I can. “In the morning.”
“I know.”
“He'll take my patch.”
“Will he?”
My hand moves over her hair. “I don’t know. That's the worst that could happen.”
She lifts her head to look at me, and I can just about make out her face. “So what happens now?”
“I usually have a plan. But, I don't have a plan for you,” I tell her.
She smiles. “Good,” she says, and puts her head back down.
In the morning, the phone goes off on the counter while we’re having breakfast. When I answer, Prez tells me to be at the Saloon within the hour, his voice grim.