Chas's Fervor: Insurgents Motorcycle Club (Insurgents MC Romance Book 3) (30 page)

Jordan’s pussy was good, but she was too damn eager all the time. He bet the librarian was a tigress in bed. Yeah, too bad the fucking Insurgent had broken in on his plan; she would’ve been a fighter, and he would’ve loved to have tamed her. Becoming turned-on just thinking about it, he yanked the slut up by her hair.

“Ow, Snake. What the fuck?” Virgo asked while rubbing her scalp.

“Turn around, lean over the bar, and spread your legs real wide. Do it now.”

Virgo spun around, her long, blonde hair just touching her ass. Leaning over, she spread her legs.

Snake looked at her muscled legs, her rounded ass, and her hanging tits. Her arms grasped the bar as she bent over. Glistening, her pussy was wet from his come and her excitement. Thinking of Addie in her starched white blouse with the pearl buttons and lace collar, he ran his hand up and down Virgo’s slick cunt. Her moans and shivers made him hard, and in one forceful thrust, he hammered into her. Pants and screams surrounded him as he kept slamming his cock into her cunt, smacking her ass.

He came hard. After he pulled out, he shoved Virgo away and stuffed his softened dick into his jeans. It was good, but he wished it was the redhead he had just fucked good and hard.

Leaning against the bar, Snake watched Virgo walk her naked ass over to Hutch and Bruiser, whose cocks were hard from observing Snake fucking her. She climbed on Bruiser’s lap, and Hutch stuffed one of her big tits into his mouth and sucked noisily.

Twisting his back to them, Snake stared into the emerald eyes and warm smile of a pretty redhead in a photo behind the bar. “Hey, Prospect, come here.”

The prospect rushed over. “Do you need another drink?” he asked as he rinsed out a shot glass.

“That’d be good. Let me see that photo behind you.” After handing him the picture, the prospect filled the glass with whiskey.

Perusing Addie’s picture, Snake’s cock twitched and his mouth went dry. “Why do we have this bitch’s picture?”

“I dunno. Reaper told me to hang it up.” Wiping the bar with a rag, the prospect nodded toward the door. “He’s just coming in now.”

Snake whirled around and lifted his fist in the air as the president of the Deadly Demons sauntered in. Reaper came over to Snake.

“What’s happenin’?” Reaper asked. He tapped his finger on the counter. Immediately, a shot of Jack appeared.

“Not much. Just finished fuckin’ Virgo.”

Reaper chuckled low. “She’s a hot piece of horny ass.” He threw back his whiskey. “I’ll have to give her a go after she’s done with Hutch and Bruiser.”

Snake laughed. “I’m guessing your ol’ lady ain’t around?”

“You’ve got that fuckin’ right.” Another shot appeared, and Reaper downed it.

Jerking his chin, Snake asked, “What’s with the bitch’s picture?”

“I promised Ian I’d post it. He’s lookin’ for the slut. Wants her real bad.”

“Oh, yeah? What for?”

“She skipped out on him. She’s his wife, and he wants his dick between her legs again,” Reaper snickered.

“
She’s
Ian’s wife? Well, Jesus fucking Christ. Give me that,” Snake said to the prospect.

Snake brought the photo closer to him and stared into Addie’s shining eyes. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he whipped out his phone. “You got his number?” he asked Reaper.

“Yeah. You seen the slut?”

“Even touched her, and fuck, does she have soft skin and hair.” He laughed as he dialed Ian’s number.

“Hey, Ian, this is Snake. How’s it goin’ for you?” He put the call on speaker phone.

“Can’t complain. How are you guys doing in New Mexico?” Ian’s voice crackled.

“Good. Reaper’s here, too.”

“Yo, man,” said Reaper.

“Hey, Reaper. You got a job for me?”

“No, but Snake is busting a gut over the picture you sent me a while back.”

There was a long pause, punctuated by Ian’s sharp intake of breath.

“You still there, dude?” Reaper asked.

“I’m still here.” His voice had a steel edge to it. “Have you seen Lizzie?”

“I’ve seen someone who looks just like her, but her name isn’t Lizze. It’s Addie-something.”

Deep breathing. Clucking of a tongue. Ian cleared his throat. “So, she’s in Rawlins, New Mexico?”

“No, fuck, this Addie bitch is my woman’s boss in some library in Pinewood Springs, Colorado.”

“Colorado? Of course, the cabin. Fuck, I should’ve remembered that.”

“What?”

“Nothing of importance to you. So, she works for the library?”

“Yeah, like I said, she’s my woman’s boss. I just saw her the other night.” Snake omitted how his encounter with her had ended with him having a broken nose and a run-in with an Insurgent, but he didn’t think Ian wanted those details anyway. From the way Ian was breathing, Snake knew he was excited by the news, like a lion that had cornered its prey.

“Thanks for the call. This is very good news. Next job you want me to do is on me, okay?”

“Sure, good to know,” said Reaper. “Go on and get your woman back and teach her respect. You can’t be soft on bitches, ’cause they’ll run all over you. Give her a beating she won’t forget, and she’ll never skip out again, man.”

A cruel chuckle came over the phone. “I plan to do just that. The bitch will never leave me again. I’ll make sure of that.”

The phone clicked off.

A
cold chill
bit the air. Shivers of ice and doom laced around Addie’s body as she rushed to her car, parked under the amber streetlight. Leaves skittered around the quiet street, and gnarled branches from nearby bare trees clattered against each other as they swayed in the darkened night. For no apparent reason, a jolt of fear seized Addie, and it brushed over her, cold and damp like a tomb.
I’m being silly. It’s hard to get used to daylight savings. In the dark, everything seems creepier.

She dug for her keys in her purse. Didn’t the instructor in the self-defense class tell them to have the car key in hand? “Always be prepared” was his mantra. With trembling fingers, she pulled out her key and placed it in the lock. She heard a crunch behind her, like footsteps stepping on dried autumn leaves. Heart pounding, she fumbled to open the car door.

Kur-plunk
. Her key fell to the pavement.
Shit!
Picking it off the ground, she noticed a shadow lurking behind her.
Oh, my God! Ian’s found me. He’s going to kill me. Oh, God. Oh, no, please don’t let him kill me like this. Please, please
! Shaking, she attempted to put the key in the lock. A hand closed over hers and pushed the key straight in.

“No, no, please!” Beads of sweat trickled down her back as she gasped for air.

“What’s wrong, precious?” the low voice pounded in her ears.

Swinging around, Addie latched onto Chas’s dark eyes scanning her face. Tears of relief ran down her cheeks as her breath hitched and her nose ran. Chas tugged her to him and placed her head against his shoulder. As she blubbered like an idiot, he stroked her back.

Cupping her chin in his hand, he tilted her head up and his fingers, weathered from work, wiped the wetness from her cheeks and eyes. Handing her a tissue, she blew her nose.

“You okay? What’s going on?” he asked.

Stuffing the tissue in her pocket, she said, “Yes, I’m okay. Being silly, that’s all. I guess it’s the feel in the air. You know, early November chill, and all the long shadows and flitting leaves. I let my imagination get away from me. I spooked myself.” She didn’t share how a dark, foreboding sense of danger enveloped her.

“You shouldn’t be out by yourself. You need to walk out with another employee, especially since what happened with the Deadly Demon fucker. Damn, you had me worried.”

Hugging him and breathing in his scent deeply, her insides—which were twisted in fear only a few minutes earlier—quivered with arousal. Chas made her feel safe and cherished. For the first time since her parents had been murdered, she was really happy. She could actually see a future with him and Jack.

Raising her head, she stretched her neck and kissed him on his chin. Throwing her a soft smile, he bent down and kissed her, tenderly at first, but harder and more urgently as they stood there embracing.

“Let’s grab something to eat then go back to your place, so I can fuck you all night.”

“All night?” She opened her eyes wide, feigning surprise.

Squeezing her next to him, he whispered, “Fuck yeah.”

She laughed, the tension draining out of her. “I can’t wait. Let’s just grab a pizza to save time.”

Nuzzling her neck, he said, “You’re my kind of woman.”

Many hours later, as Addie and Chas lay sated and tangled in the sheets, she regarded the first rays of the day piercing through the retreating night sky. Chas had been good on his promise of fucking her all night. As he lay still, face wrinkled against his pillow, Addie’s heart lurched. She had done exactly what she didn’t want to do—she’d fallen deeply and foolishly in love with Chas. He hadn’t uttered words of love, even though he appeared to care for her; he acted like he did, anyway. How she longed to hear him tell her he loved her, and she was not just an interlude in his life.

Jordan had been right about one thing—bikers fucked a lot of women, and did regard them as “dick warmers.” Was that how Chas felt about her? Was she his “dick warmer” and nothing else? One thing was certain: Chas brought her happiness and a stability she hadn’t felt in years. Addie would travel this journey with him, seeing where it took them, even though her heart ached each time they were together and he didn’t tell her he loved her.

Stop overthinking things, Addie. You love Chas, and he makes you feel safe, cherished, and sexy. Be happy and grateful.

And she
was
happy and grateful. Chas sighed in his sleep, and she bent down and brushed a kiss across his shoulder blades. After so many years, her life finally seemed to make sense. Peace and contentment blanketed her as she marveled at the brightening sky with pink and gold brushstrokes painted on it.

*     *     *

“Flight two fifty-four
to Denver boarding at gate number thirty-seven.”

The voice from the loudspeaker filled the gate area at O’Hare Airport. Ian, ticket in hand, stood in line as a skinny airline employee checked boarding passes and told each customer to have a good flight.

Head back, Ian placed his folded hands on his crisp, pressed slacks. A woman and her six-year-old child sat next to him. He cursed himself for not springing for first-class tickets. Ian hated mixing with people he regarded as
common.
For him, the majority of the human race fit into his
common
category.

The young boy opened and closed the folding tray over and over, each slam and giggle reverberating through Ian’s brain like a hot sword slicing through flesh. Cranking his body sideways, his back to the boy, he checked his watch. The two-and-a-half-hour flight time to Denver was going to be quite tedious and
long.

As the plane began its descent at DIA, the small boy was spastic with delight. Ian, nerves on edge after more than two hours of rowdiness, cursed his wife for making him have to endure such bullshit. He entertained himself by visualizing various way he would kill the boy and his frantic mother if he had the chance. At least
that
provided some levity to his trip.

After collecting his two small bags, he picked up his rental car, reviewed the map, and made his way to Pinewood Springs. Ian wasn’t looking forward to the three-hour drive to the town, and he hated nature, so the majestic Rocky Mountains ablaze with the last colors of autumn held no interest to him. He was strictly an urban man—concrete, steel, a good whiff of pollution. City living, the energy, and the hype entered his bloodstream and pulsed through him. Having to spend even one day in a hick town pissed him off. His lovely wife would pay for all the inconveniences she’d caused him.
Ungrateful bitch!
To pass the time, he’d picture the various ways he would punish his wayward woman. Eyes narrowed, Ian gripped the steering wheel as his rental car began its ascent into the mountains.

Three hours and fifteen minutes later, Ian pulled up in front of the Briarwood Hotel and Spa. It was a four-star hotel located across the street from the train station. It was also two blocks away from the Pinewood Springs Library.

“You’ve booked for four nights, is that correct, sir?” the fresh-faced, pimply desk clerk asked.

“Yes.”

“Which credit card will you be using, sir?”

“I’m paying cash.”

The teenager opened his mouth, but Ian cut him off. “I’ll pay it all up front.” Ian took out a roll of bills. The desk clerk watched Ian count out the money.

“I’ll handle my bags myself,” Ian said over his shoulder as he sauntered over to the elevators.

Exiting on the fourth floor, Ian swiped the room key, opening his door to a nicely decorated room with paintings of the various mountain vistas in Colorado. He slid the curtain aside and peeked out the window. Cars drove past, people rushed or strolled down the sidewalks, and the damn train clanked by, the whistle piercing Ian’s brain. Maybe he’d change his stay to three nights. Ian smirked; he hadn’t become a pro by being impatient. Scoping the area, finding out the habits and routines of his fucking wife would take a few days or so. He had to be prepared before he could pounce. After all, he hadn’t earned his reputation by being sloppy. He’d waited two years for this moment—a few more days wouldn’t make a difference.