BILLIONAIRE BIKERS: 3 MC Romance Books (64 page)

When they awoke a few hours later, neither Audra nor Lucas had moved. He already had a hard-on and began gently rocking between her legs from behind. She reached down and stroked the head as it came forward between her legs.

He pulled back and easily slipped inside her, then reached over her slim hip and fondled her nub. He thrust in and out a few times, and then stopped and withdrew.

Audra turned toward him, smothering him with kisses. Then, she lay there with her hand beneath her head, looking at him.

“I had a dream about this wooly god making love to me in the night, and look, it was you!” she said, tugging on his whiskers.

“They don’t offend you?”

“Nope. I like you better clean-shaven, but if I had to choose between having you in my bed bearded and not having you in my bed at all, I would definitely choose bearded.”

He reached out and stroked her hair then pulled her closer to him.

“I didn’t find any of your things in the Airstream. Did you move up here?”

“Mm-hmm,” she said.

“I like it. It’s very primal.”

She laughed. “Yeah, with the fire, the sheepskin rugs, the wool blankets, and no door, it is very cave-like. I’m kind of on my own now, too, which is okay.”

“What do you mean?”

She hesitated because she realized that to tell him meant admitting things she wasn’t sure she was ready to admit, or maybe more that she wasn’t sure he was ready to hear.

She took a deep breath and all of it started tumbling out. “I know that this is like some kind of reverse Stockholm syndrome,” she said. “Jerry and Gordon think I’m just attached to you because of all we’ve been through and that once the situation is over we’ll both be embarrassed by it. I mean, I know I haven’t had much experience in any of this, but….”

He pressed his finger to her lips to quiet her.

“It is what it is. I’ve tried pushing it away, denying it, rationalizing it, turning it inside out. Is it situational, probably? Is what I’m feeling just lust? I don’t think so. Will we feel differently when the situation is different? Who can say? Our feelings will likely change, but who knows what turn they will take?” he said.

“But Jerry and Gordon say it will make a mess of your job.”

“As far as my job is concerned, I’m pretty sure it’s going to come out in my favor. What’s between us now or later is nobody’s business but our own.”

She closed her eyes and nodded.

“What’s happening out there?” she asked.

“They’re setting up a sting operation.”

“They?”

“Yes, another marshal found me, and we’ve been working together. He’s in touch with headquarters….”

“Someone you can trust?”

“Yes. We’ll see though—now that they have given him supervision over me,” he said and laughed.

“What will your role be?” she asked.

“It will be my job to extradite Blanco once he’s been arrested.”

“You’ll be face-to-face with him?”

“That’s how it works. I’m starved,” he said, wanting to preempt any more questions.

“I do my own cooking now,” she said. “So come on, I’ll whip us up something after we shower.”

The shower was designed for water saving and definitely not designed for two. He held her tight against him, her back to his front. He released the first burst of water over them, then soaped her all over, using the gentle, eco-friendly soap upon which Gordon insisted. He loved feeling the slipperiness between her legs as her pressed his fingers gently inside her, feeling her own moisture increase as she became excited.

Another blast of water, and she soaped him, using the soap to reduce the friction as she stroked his hard cock. He started to rinse, but when she turned her back to him again, he lowered himself until he could slip inside her, reaching around and stroking her nub while he nibbled on her ear, flicking his tongue in and out.

She was on fire again. It had never been like this for her, and she felt like she could never get enough. He pulled out, and they rinsed as quickly as they could in the short bursts and toweled dry.

“Are you still hungry?” she asked.

“Yes, but breakfast second,” he replied.

It was chilly in the room, so she pulled him in front of the fire and onto the sheepskin rug.

“I wish you could see yourself,” he said. “I wish I had a camera to take your picture—your dark hair lying against the white rug and your darkened nipples—you look edible!”

He balanced himself over her, looking into her eyes, looking at her body with devotion. He ran his fingertips down from her chest, across her belly, to the soft flesh of her thighs. He sighed, making a sound of hunger and satisfaction simultaneously. He was hungry for her body and so satisfied to be with her.

He began rooting near her nub, and, finding it, thrummed his tongue against it, but she touched the sides of his head and whispered, “I want you inside me.” He kissed her inner thighs, then raised himself over her and probed with the tip of his shaft. She tilted upward and closed legs around him.

He savored the pressure of her sex around him, as he slowly moved in and out of her. She held him so close, as they merged into each other, breath upon breath. She felt exhilarated, body and soul.

She unwrapped her legs, opening herself wider, and planted her heels into the floor. He moved even deeper inside her. She raised her head and licked his nipples with the tip of her tongue, and he moaned and increased his rhythm.

She solidified herself around him, her pleasure increasing. She felt the fire igniting again like the gas flame on a burner. But the flame was turned up high, and it quickly caught the rest of her, across her belly, up her spine and her front together; she literally could feel the wave of fire into her shoulders and pressing up into her head. It made her cheeks glow, and she began to scream in rapture, something told her to dampen it so as not to be heard into the dome itself, but she couldn’t help it…didn’t want to…couldn’t stop it.

She rocked hard against him as wave after wave crested and broke, releasing showers of ecstasy over her. They rode each other until her frenzy subsided.

He pulled out and rolled her to her side, lying down beside her and quickly entering her sex from behind. She cried out as he did so, the position stimulating her from another angle, the sensation changing completely, keeping her aroused.

He closed his eyes, as she tightened around him, feeling the excruciating sensation of building toward his own orgasm. He felt it in his thighs, through his groin, up into his abdomen and belly. His chest tightened as he thrust until he felt the first wash of orgasm transporting him beyond sense. Hearing his ragged breathing and his moans caused her to come again as well, until they at last lay still, spent and sated.

“Why was it we took a shower first?” she teased.

“I don’t know,” he said, “but it’s definitely time for breakfast.”

This time, she padded to the bathroom and brought a soft, hot washcloth. He tried to take it from her, but she insisted on washing him, so he lay back, feeling the soothing comfort of the heat and her touch. Then, she lay a towel across him.

She put on her robe and moved to the tiny corner kitchen where she began rummaging in the fridge.  He watched her with a deep sense of satisfaction of having made the right choice.

# # #

Over the next 24 hours, the sense of urgency in their lovemaking barely abated. Weeks of pent-up energy and emotions, as well as the uncertainty of the future kept them awash in desire.

For a short time, they managed to keep their fears at bay—along with the rest of the world. No one else existed for them. They spoke only of pleasant memories which were few for both of them, and mostly came from their childhoods, but it was nevertheless a bonding of their hearts.

Their lovemaking was frenzied that morning in unspoken recognition of the peril which Lucas faced once he left their safe harbor.

She was on her knees with him behind her. He held her hips and arched his back, gasping and crying out softly, as he released himself deep inside of her. When his focus returned, he ran his hands over her back and down, grasping her breasts, squeezing them lightly. He remained that way for several seconds, loathe to let her go.

They showered separately, and she made breakfast for him. They said little as he repacked the few things he had removed from his bag. As he prepared to leave the compound, she walked outside with him.

Her eyes showed surprise when he walked to the motorcycle.

“I make a smaller target this way,” he said, in an unsuccessful attempt to joke with her.

She threw her arms around his shoulders, and, for the first time, he saw tears in her eyes. It was a sight that pleased him. If he never saw her again, he would know that somehow he had broken through her numbed exterior to help her to feel again. He fervently hoped that nothing would happen to him to cause her to close off again.

There were a million things he wanted to say, but all he could muster was, “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

She nodded, her arms crossed in front of her, watching him as far as her eye could see.

Not far down the road, Lucas’s phone buzzed insistently.

“Hey!” Fetsko said. “You’re out from under.”

“Yeah. Has anything happened while I’ve been gone?”

“I’ve got lots to tell you, but I’d prefer a face-to-face.”

“I’ll be back there by two. I’m already on my way.”

It had been so hard to pull himself away from Audra. However, the wind in his face, coupled with what he was facing, was enough to sober him. Perhaps in a few hours Blanco would be in custody, and they could enter the second phase of Audra’s protection. Not that the second phase would be much different from the first, but it still was progress. Hopefully, Blanco’s incarceration would throw the organization into chaos for a while, leaving them alone and allowing them to get to a new safe house.

It was a shame they couldn’t stay at Gordon’s, but overstaying their welcome couldn’t be good for Gordon’s operation, as well as the fact that Audra was putting a wall between herself and them.

They meant well, and in the majority of circumstances, they would have been right. Hell, hadn’t he given the same advice to friends of his own in the Service? He wanted to say it was
different
with him and Audra, but he knew it wasn’t. Who could give any accounting for matters of the heart?

He knew she just didn’t want to feel their doubts, which might cause her to doubt both him and herself. Right now, she needed him, and he wanted her to need him. More than that, they had mutual need, mutual desire, and mutual care.

Lucas was back in Calexico inside of four hours, went directly to Fetsko’s room, and plopped into a chair.

“Good to see you, Lucas. Damned if you don’t look a sight healthier than when you left.”

Lucas smiled. “So what do you know?”

“I have a meeting with Blanco on Saturday. He’s having a party at his beach house, and Marlena and I are invited. Apparently, Michaelson made the phone call because the adjutant told her he knew who I was and what I wanted.”

“What’s your plan?” Lucas asked.

“That’s what we need to discuss.”

# # #

The brief ride to Mexicali was uneventful. Per his instructions, Marlena had gotten a room at the Lausanne. Things were progressing between them, he thought, anyway. He knew she had a lot of men, but somehow she made him feel like he was the only one. He wanted to be with her before, and to be able to lose himself in her after the operation went down.

She greeted him at the room door in bathrobe which hung loose around her, exposing her silk slip and stockings.

“Ah,
caro,
” she said, throwing her arms around his neck and showering him with kisses. “Marlena is so happy to see you.”

He walked into the room and pulled his belt off. She threw the robe on the chair and helped him unbutton and unzip. Immediately her fingers found what they sought, and he was hard within seconds. She dropped his pants to the floor and pushed him back into the chair. She sat on the floor in front of him, then got onto her knees and immediately began to lick his cock.

“Marlena,” he said, wanting her attention. “Marlena.”

“
Sí, caro,
” she said, looking up with her beautiful eyes, but without relinquishing her hold on his member. She looked so innocent but continued to stroke him.

“Marlena, I want more than this,” he said.

“Marlena knows. You no want just
servicio
. You want
novia.
”

“That’s right, honey. I want a girlfriend.”

“We talk about it,” Marlena said, “right after I finish this,” she said, waggling his member back and forth. “Men cannot talk while this is full,” she said.

He laughed. He thought about how true that was, especially when she had awakened such a beast in him.
God!
Her mouth was so warm and wet and….he ceased being able to think clearly, so he sank back into the chair and allowed her to continue her ministrations.

He spurted so hard into her mouth, and she quaffed every drop of it. Then, she cleaned him up and crawled onto his lap.

“Now what you want to say to Marlena?” she asked.

He felt barely conscious; he was caught up in a delicious stupor. “Uh, I think I love you?”

“You love Marlena?” She tipped her head back and laughed in that typical Marilyn style. “Marlena loves you, too.”

She snuggled up in his arms, her head beneath his chin, and they both fell asleep.

He awoke not too much later. She was already dressed and applying the last of her makeup.

He stood and tucked himself back together, putting his belt back on.

She went to the closet. “Here,” she said. “Marlena buy this for you.”

It was a black blazer, with a raised pattern of black floral embroidery on the shoulders—perfect really with his black jeans, Justin boots, and crisp, white shirt.

He pulled out a new belt and matching bolo tie from his bag, but she shook her head. “Belt,
sí
, bolo,
no
. The belt is nice. It makes you look wealthy. The bolo makes you look like you’re trying too hard,” she said and giggled.

“I appreciate the advice,” he said, grinning at her. “I certainly wouldn’t want Blanco to think I was trying too hard.”

As they got ready to walk out the door, he pulled her to him. “Will you come back here with me tonight? We’ll have champagne and make it a celebration.”

Her eyes lit up. “Of course,
cariño
, I would love to.”

That was the first time he had heard her refer to herself in the first person. He began to realize that the pidgin English was just an act. He had suspected she was highly intelligent, and now he was sure of it. Just the kind of woman he needed.

# # #

Marlena pointed the way to the villa. She wore a simple black sundress with traditional Mexican embroidery and beading and matching beaded earrings consisting of twisted strands. Fetsko was impressed, not only with how she looked, but in her sense of wearing something traditional that Blanco would likely take for trustworthiness.

For both of them, the tension mounted as they arrived and was not dispelled upon seeing other guests, realizing how much they stood out among them. But then, the idea was not to blend, but to be visible to Blanco’s adjutant. Marlena’s ostentation had always made him somewhat nervous, but he had felt it would be to his advantage in this case.

The sumptuous villa did, indeed, overlook the marina with a small yacht docked directly in front. The abode was spaciously decorated in colorful Talavera style with warm woods and traditional styling. There was a table overflowing with tapas of all kinds.

Fetsko looked at it, but his stomach was in knots because of the impending meeting. He did take a flute of champagne that someone handed him, hoping the fizz would help settle his stomach. Marlena left him and flitted in and out among the distinguished guests.

Fetsko looked toward a set of closed ornately carved double doors in front of which stood a couple of uniformed guards. The uniforms were indistinguishable as to any organization, so he figured that Blanco had his men uniformed in one-off
Federale
garb.
It must bolster his ego
, Fetsko thought,
to be taken for an important official.

The champagne did help his stomach, so he sought another one, hoping it would slightly dull his edge of fear and help him relax. As he was finishing the second flute, he was approached by another uniformed man, this one of obvious rank by his insignia.

“
Señor
Fetsko?” the man asked.

“Yes, I’m Fetsko,” he said too loudly. He grabbed the man’s hand and pumped it firmly, in an effort to appear dumb and eager.

The man withdrew his hand in obvious disdain.
“General Blanco
would like to speak with you now,
señor.
Would you follow me?”

The man turned on his heel, and Fetsko followed him. Suddenly, Marlena rejoined him. He wasn’t sure she should be there, but he thought it might disarm Blanco a bit. They were frisked at the door. Fetsko stiffened a bit when the guard thrust his hand into Fetsko’s inner jacket pocket, withdrawing three Cuban cigars, his cell phone, and his wallet.

“Why these?” he asked, holding up the cigars.

Duh
, Fetsko thought.
Did he think they were exploding cigars?

“A gift for
General
Blanco,” Fetsko said.

The guard looked at the adjutant who nodded and returned the cigars to the pocket. He held the cell phone, turning it over and over, as if looking for explosive devices.

Fetsko held his breath. If they took the cell phone, he was fucked. It had two functions—to alert waiting marshals that he was face to face with Blanco and to record their conversation.

The guard looked again at the adjutant, and then, apparently satisfied, returned the cell phone to the pocket, as well. The guard gave only a cursory look at the wallet and replaced it last. He gave a hard nod to the adjutant, indicating that he was satisfied.

“Only you,” the adjutant said, blocking Marlena. Fetsko nodded to Marlena, indicating that it would be okay, but she grabbed his arm, looking coquettishly at the adjutant.

“But I know
General Blanco
very well,” she said. “
Querrá verme
.”

The man hesitated, but her insistence that Blanco would want to see her seemed to sway him, and he allowed her to enter with Fetsko.

They entered a large room filled with overstuffed leather furniture and alpaca rugs on the floor and on the backs of some of the furniture pieces. Two men stood near a window, and the general sat behind an ironwood desk, perched on the edge of a leather wingback chair with brass studs.

Fetsko had seen pictures of Blanco before, but nothing prepared him for the man’s presence. Blanco’s jet black eyes spoke of his intelligence. This man would not be easy to fool. His craggy features showed he had earned his stripes the hard way. Fetsko realized he had miscalculated concerning Blanco’s ego. It wasn’t about ego. He was no fat, stupid aristocrat. He didn’t have to demand respect; he warranted it.

Blanco’s eyes followed Marlena. Lucas had told him that she and Blanco had been intimate, but Lucas had conjectured that it was a matter of convenient timing and lust rather than any kind of relationship. It wouldn’t be in Blanco’s personality to be jealous, but Fetsko realized that he might be very possessive. Fetsko saw that he may have made a mistake by allowing her to come in with him.

Fetsko looked at her, but she seemed oblivious. He ran through various scenarios in his mind but realized she would have no reason to double-cross him. Blanco didn’t know or want him. He wanted Lucas and the girl. The only way that Marlena would be useful there was if she knew who Lucas was, and Fetsko was certain she did not.

Fetsko reached in his pocket to pull out the cigars for Blanco and pressed a button on his cell phone to engage the recorder.

“A gift,
General,
” Fetsko said, handing the man two of the cigars, “in appreciation for our interview today.”

Blanco accepted them, indicating they should sit. Fetsko sat on one end of a walnut-colored davenport, and Marlena sat in the middle. She spread her skirt carefully around her, but she remained a respectful distance from Fetsko.
Smart woman,
he thought.
Safer for him.

Blanco’s focus was clearly on Marlena.

“Marlena,” Blanco said, “
¡Ven a mí! Sientes en mi rodilla.
”

Marlena glanced nervously at Fetsko then walked over to Blanco. She bent to kiss him, and he pulled her down to sit on his knee, encircling her waist.

Fetsko saw the strategy. With Marlena on his knee, Blanco could focus his attention solely on Fetsko.

“So, Mr. Fetsko—former U.S. Marshal. How is it that you come looking for work?”

Fetsko raised his arms and shrugged. “I’m sick of the government pimping me out, risking my life for a pittance. Senior Deputy Michaelson thought I might be interested in working for you.”

“You are acquainted with Marshal Lucas Roberts,
no
?” Blanco asked.

“I am.”

“Are you aware of his detail responsibilities now?”

“I am,” Fetsko responded.

“Do you know where he is?”

Fetsko shook his head. “The Marshals Service has pinpointed his whereabouts somewhere in the Mojave, but they have no clear location.”

“Why? Why don’t they know where he is exactly?”

“He’s gone rogue, sir.”

“I see. I actually knew all of that. I just wanted to see if you are as informed as I am.”

Fetsko nodded.

“Do you think you can find him?”

“With the right intel.”

“And where would you find this
intelligencia, señor
?”