Impulsively (Dante's Nine MC) (15 page)

“It’s nothing,” I finally say to my coworkers, “I flirt with
him to get information about the MC’s. That’s all.”

“Right,” Bruno scoffs.

“It’s not a bad strategy,” Mitchell nods. “Is he interested
in you, too?”

“He is, as far as I can tell,” I say, swallowing a smile.

“Then use that, Collins!” Mitchell urges, “How far you push
your relationship with him is totally up to you, but it could be a
fruitful...union.”

“Are you...giving me permission to pursue Brooks?
Romantically?” I ask my boss.

“I’m saying that if Keira Campbell wanted to make a move on
Caleb Brooks...that would be very good for Quinn Collins’ investigation,”
Mitchell says pointedly.

I have to laugh. All my worries about stepping over the line
with Brooks have been waved away. I’m free to do as I please with him. As long
as I claim it was all for the investigation, it’s fine, whether that’s really true
or not. There’s still the matter of coming clean to him as a Fed to deal with,
of course. But we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.
If
we ever get there, that
is.

“I’ll see what I can do, Mitchell,” I grin.

Bruno looks on with distaste, but I can’t be bothered by my
fellow undercover agent’s disdain. I’ve just been given a free pass to go after
the one man I’ve ever been crazy for.

And that is crazy
awesome
.

“I can’t stare at this screen anymore,” Kelly groans,
burying her face in her hands.

“I think I’ve gone into full zombie mode too,” Kassie sighs,
shutting her laptop with a click. “Time to call it a day.”

The three of us have been toiling over the website all day,
tweaking the smallest details and optimizing its function. But after this full
week of hard work, we’ve made a lot of progress. I’m actually really proud of
my contributions to CrowdedNest. Especially now that I know it’s not a secret
front for a drug or gun running scheme, or what have you.

“You’ve been an amazing help around here, Keira,” Kassie
says, grabbing my hand across the table. “Thank you for busting your ass for us
this week.”

“It’s been a pleasure,” I smile, squeezing her fingers
gently.

“If you keep up the good work, we may have to discuss making
this a full-time thing,” Kelly puts in, “Would you be interested in moving away
from being a freelancer? Just in
theory
,
of course.”

A genuine grin of surprise spreads across my face. “I’d love
that,” I say, before I can catch myself. As the words escape my lips, I know at
once that they’re true. I would love to keep working with these girls, hitting
up the MC clubs after work, spending every waking moment living in hope of
seeing Brooks walk through the door. I have to remind myself, for the
thousandth time, that this is all a lie. In a week, the dream will be over. But
I guess I can’t let the girls know that.

“We don’t have to make any decisions just yet,” Kassie says,
shooting Kelly a look, “But it’s good to know that you’re interested, Keira.
That’s great to hear.”

“Now that that’s cleared up,” Kelly says brightly, “I need a
whiskey. Let’s go.”

Just as the last words escape Kelly’s mouth, Brooks appears
in his bedroom door. He’s been sleeping off his early shift at the garage—a
fact that’s made it rather difficult for me to concentrate fully. One
afternoon, while Kelly and Kassie were out of the office, Brooks all but carried
me into his room to have his way with me. Of course, my bosses showed up again
just as things were about to get serious. I’m not sure what the official term
for female blue balls is, but whatever it is, I’m feeling it
hard
these days.

“You ladies heading out?” Brooks asks. “I’ll keep an eye on
Keira for you.”

“No doubt,” Kassie laughs. “We were actually going to head
out for a drink.”

“Are we going to the Forty-Five club?” I ask eagerly.

“Let’s try something new tonight,” Kelly suggests, “I know
just the place. Come on, girls. I’ll drive tonight.”

“You shouldn’t have to do all the driving by yourself,
Kelly,” Brooks says, striding over to our shared desk. “Let me help. I’ll come
along, and Keira can ride with me.”

“On...your Harley?” I ask, trying to hide my excited nerves.

“No, on my dragon,” he grins, resting his hands on my
slender shoulders. There’s a protective possessiveness in his every touch
that’s been growing with each passing day. It’s well known among the club
members that I’m Brooks’ girl after hours. If only I could be his girl
every
hour. But a girl’s
got to work—and
this
girl’s got to work enough for two.

“Whatever Keira wants,” Kassie smiles, linking arms with Kelly
and heading for the door, “though I can guess what
that
might be...”

I grin sheepishly at my new girlfriends. My desire for
Brooks is no secret to them. If anything, they’re thrilled that I might land
myself a biker boy of my own.

“You two lovebirds can follow me,” Kelly says, leading the
way down to the street. Brooks and I trail behind, his hand firmly on the small
of my back. He’s told me time and again that’s his favorite part of my body.
Though, to be fair, he’s said that about
every
part of my body by now.

“Have a good night, all,” the doorman says happily as we
pass.

Oh, I
plan to,
I think to myself, letting Brooks lead the way outside.

Kassie and Kelly slide into the Prius that’s parked before
the high rise. With a wicked grin, Brooks tows me over to an enormous,
impressive piece of machinery standing at the curb. He waves an arm before the
spotless Harley, pride gleaming in his green eyes.

“Your chariot,” he says, handing me a half-shell helmet.

“Don’t think I’m lame,” I say, slipping the helmet onto my
hair, “But I’ve never been on one of these before.”

“Another first of yours I get to take?” he says, letting his
hand slide over my ass. “Sounds good to me.”

“Can you two quit pawing each other for a second so we can
go?” Kelly calls out the car window, “Mama needs a drink!”

Brooks swings a denim-clad leg over the powerful machine and
looks expectantly over his shoulder at me. Screwing up my courage as best I
can, I lower myself onto the seat behind him. Here goes nothing.

“Hold on tight,” Brooks commands, grabbing my arms and
placing them firmly around his muscled torso. He doesn’t have to tell me twice.
I take as much of him as I can in my arms, resting my cheek against the smooth
leather of his cut. I’m pressed against the Dante’s Nine sigil emblazoned on
his back, fighting off the lingering guilt I feel at supposing that maybe MC’s
aren’t total packs of heathens after all.

Kelly and Kassie take off down the strip, and Brooks cranks
the Harley’s engine to life. I’m taken totally off guard as the mighty machine
begins to vibrate between my legs. The life contained in this vehicle is
mind-blowing. I lean forward on the leather seat, amazed by how good it feels
to have this much power clenched between my thighs. Though if I get my way
tonight, I’ll have a whole different kind of might wrapped up in my legs.

Brooks swings the Harley into the teeming traffic of the
Vegas strip. The sun is just setting over Sin City, and the place is coming to
life with vivid energy. I stare up at the towering resorts and casinos as we
fly by. Pressing against Brooks’ hard body, I feel like the queen of this
kingdom of vice. How can anything that feels this good really be bad? How can
all the people milling about Vegas, all the MC brothers, be so morally corrupt,
just for enjoying themselves? What if life is just too short to deprive yourself
of everything you want?

Better
not waste any more time, if that’s the case,
I think to myself,
tightening my grip on Brooks’ perfect body,
Tonight’s
our night.

We soar beyond the pulsing neon center of the city, tearing
through the outskirts of town. I look over my shoulder as we sail past the
Forty-Five Club. I wonder where we’re headed tonight? Another biker bar
somewhere, probably.

My heart swells with delight as we rip through the darkened
desert, uncountable stars wheeling overhead. I never thought this would be the
case...but I
love
the
feel of this bike beneath me. There’s nothing between me and the wind, and
nothing between Brooks’ body and mine. It’s a feeling I could get used to, if
my time with him wasn’t going to be over in a week, that is.

Don’t
think like that,
I chide myself,
Just enjoy the moment, Collins. You deserve it.
“How’re you doing back
there?” Brooks calls over the roaring wind.

“This is amazing!” I cry back, shaking out my curls behind
me.

“I like the feel of you on my bike, Red,” Brooks grins,
checking me out in the rear view mirror. “And the look of you, too. You’re the
sexiest goddamn woman I’ve ever seen.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” I say, squeezing his
thigh.

“No,” he says, “I don’t.” And the intent focus of his gaze
tells me he’s not lying.

We trail Kelly’s car up into the hills, deeper than I’ve
ever travelled before. As chaotic and wild as Vegas itself is, these dark,
deserted hills are far more chilling. What’s lying ahead of us, obscured from
sight? I guess I’m about to find out.

At long last, we turn down a dusty trail off the main road.
Brooks’ headlights illuminate the sprawling landscape before us, and alight on
a weathered wooden road sign. I squint at the marker as we rumble past, and
feel my heart bash itself against my ribcage as I spot the symbol emblazoned
there.

A ghoulish wraith beckons us forward, her skeletal hand
outstretched. We’ve entered the territory of the Devil’s Wraiths now. I’ve only
ever heard of this place, the compound they call the Wraith’s Nest. But there’s
one thing I know for damn sure—I’m not supposed to be here.

Brooks must feel my body go rigid against his, because he
peers back at me and asks, “Why so tense, Red?”

“I was just getting used to the Forty-Five Club,” I tell
him, “I’m not sure if I’m ready to get thrown into a whole new MC—”

“You’ve met all the Wraiths, and they’re cool with you,” he
assures me. “And remember, you’re with me now. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”

Except
possibly the other agent on this case,
I think to myself. Bruno was
furious when I started tagging along with Dante’s Nine. What’s he going to say
if I show up right at the heart of his investigation? I’ll just have to pray
that this is his night off or something. There’s no turning back now.

The Wraith’s Nest appears over the next rise—a scattering of
buildings strewn across the hillside. Most of the structures are low and
barracks-like, with one rather obvious exception. At the center of the compound
is a tall, brightly lit building, teeming with expensively dressed men and
scantly clad women. A red neon sign above the front door broadcasts to the
world that this is the infamous Devil’s Playpen.

“We’re going in there?” I ask, as Brooks parks his Harley at
the end of a long line of impressive bikes.

“Sure,” he says, cutting the engine. My legs remember the
intense vibration as I step off onto solid ground, “This is the Wraiths’
watering hole. There’s a great bar inside. You’re not shy about the whole strip
club thing, are you?”

“Hell no,” I reply, shaking out my long hair. “It doesn’t
bother me.”

“Good,” Brooks smiles, “It shouldn’t. Even in your nerdiest
work outfit, you’re way more beautiful than any woman in there.”

“I think you secretly like that I’m a nerd,” I smile,
resting my hands on his tapered hips as he steps off his bike. Brooks towers
over me, running a hand through his tumbling curls. He slips an arm around my
waist, tugging me protectively against his side.

“You caught me,” he growls, setting off for the Playpen.

“Is it that I’m a challenge, or that I’m something new?” I
ask, trying to stay cool as we approach the door.

“Both and neither,” Brooks shrugs. “It’s mostly just that
you’re you, Keira.”

I swallow a sharp laugh. If only he could appreciate the
irony of that statement.

Kelly and Kassie join us as we make our way into the Devil’s
Playpen. The second the doors of the strip club swing open, I’m nearly bowled
over by a wave of pounding music and flashing lights. The joint swallows us up
as we step inside, and I’m mesmerized by the writhing shapes of women that are spotlit
all around. It’s a Friday night, and the place is absolutely packed.

Hundreds of male faces are upturned around the women who
dance on lit-up stages all around the space. Audience members vie for the
dancers’ attention, waving twenty, fifty, and even hundred dollar bills in the
air. I notice that the men in attendance are anything but shabby. Most of them
wear perfectly tailored designer suits. These are the big spenders, shelling
out for a second of their favorite porn star’s time. Employing adult actresses
was a pretty savvy business decision on the Wraiths’ part.