Steele: Into Your Heart (Carolina Bad Boys #3 (27 page)

“So good. You’re so good, Ashe.” I spoke in the lowest, deepest voice, groans ripping from my throat.

“
Ahhh!
Oh God, the piercings!” She arched hard, her pussy contracting on my fingers. “Fuck me, Brodie. Take me. Have me.”

I slid my fingers out of her, placed both hands on her waist. Withdrawing my cock from the rippling velvet chute, I plunged right back inside again. The long slow wet ride became so intense my heart burst every time she cried my name. I rocked my fingers back inside her cunt. She was full of me in both holes, working up a lather.

Her head fell back. She tightened on my fingers and around my cock, fucking me hard from both angles as I tried to hold off.

When Ashe bore down on me, dragging me even deeper, I pushed up on my elbows. She hooked her ankles up and over my shoulders, opening her ass all the way. I bit off a shout and removed my fingers from her straining cunt to rise up on my fists. Thrusting short and fast, I hit against her clit with my pelvis every time I hammered home.

“That’s it, baby. Give it all to me. Give it all up to me,” I grunted. “
Oh Christ, Ashe
.”

I reared up, bursting inside her as she came. With my arms wrapped all the way around her thighs I hauled her ass to me with each lunge. Her cries and gasps made me come and come. I shouted until my voice was hoarse and stroked my cock inside her until all I wanted was my come slathering her without a rubber between us. When I could fuck my come back into her.

“Holy. Shit!” I pumped one last time then slumped over her, sliding her legs to either side of me and lowering them to the bed.

My cock still twitching, I reached down and slowly pulled out of her. I shuffled Ashe aside, and her lowered eyelids fluttered, as did the pulse in her neck and the muscles of her stomach.

“Oh my God, Brodie,” she whispered.

I gathered her in my arms, my heart pounding a fast beat. “Good?”

“Oh my God, Brodie,” she repeated, this time with a lazy
fuck-yeah
smile.

A little while later, I washed quickly in the bathroom and warmed a washcloth in the sink. I returned to the bed and gently cleaned Ashe. She shifted a little and murmured gratefully. After checking on Cara, hissing at Shitlock, and downing a glass of water, I carried an icy glass of orange juice upstairs.

Ashe was so out of it she barely moved when I jingled the glass beside her face. Oh well, it would be there in the morning.

I crawled in next to her. “C’mere. Lemme love on you,” I slurred, already half asleep.

“No more lovin’ on me tonight, mister.” She rallied enough to roll over, hogging her warm spot.

I grabbed her to me. “I’ll amend that then because you did me so good. Let me hug on you.”

“I’ll allow it.” Ashe smiled as I placed a last kiss on her lips.

A blaring noise woke me quickly from a deep sleep. It sounded like the alarms on Miss Myra’s monitors. I struggled up to sitting. In the dim predawn light, Ashe stood next to the bed, checking her phone. She swore quietly then started rushing into her clothes.

“’Z’up?”

“Go back to sleep, handsome. I’ve been called into work.”

“Okay. Call me later. I’ll get Cara home.” I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Funeral today, remember?”

Ashe returned to plant a kiss on my mouth. “I’ll be there. Love you.”

The Mourning After

AMBER THE BABYSITTER WAS waiting at our house when I pulled in with Cara the next day. We’d had breakfast with Boomer, hung out with him some, and had even done a little fishing from the dock before duty had called us home.

Upstairs in the bedroom, I dressed in a black suit, black shirt, black tie. I fucked up the tie as usual, but maybe Ashe could fix the hangman’s noose when I got to the funeral.

Returning to the kitchen, I tugged the end of Cara’s ponytail. “We’ll be back late afternoon, okay?”

“Tell Miss Mimi I said goodbye too?”

“You bet.” I turned to Miss Responsible, the on-call babysitter. “Fridge is stocked. You’ve got all our numbers, the health insurance card and pediatrician number is—”

“—magneted to the fridge. I know what I’m doing, Mr. Steele, no need to worry. Cara and I have the rest of the day planned, so you just take your time.” She smiled at me through a mishmash of metal braces. “Manicures first—”

Cara squealed in delight.

“Ice cream, and then swimming in the clubhouse pool
after
lots of SPF 50 sunscreen.”

“Rock ’n’ roll,” I said before heading out.

When I picked up Boomer, he slid in beside me. “Hotter than hell’s oven outside.”

“No doubt.”

“The fuck happened to your tie?” He squinted at the mess I’d made.

“I tried to tie it?”

“Christ.” He snapped on his seatbelt and double-checked it. “I’ll fix it later, you goon.”

Myra hadn’t wanted a big church service, tons of crying people, or any unnecessary melodrama. She’d opted for a quiet graveside salute in the cemetery of the pretty little historic chapel at the crossroads where new Mt. Pleasant met old Mt. Pleasant.

We gathered at the small graveyard. Miss Myra’s family, her friends, and fellow parishioners exchanged greetings and shook hands beneath the shady live oak canopy. While we stood there, the rumbling roar of motorcycles thundered closer and closer. Just as the full squad of Retribution MC bikers zoomed past on 17 North—each of the dudes raising a hand to the air—church bells began to peal out a call to worship. The bells rang on, echoing the throttle of the Retribution motorcycles as they streamed past in honor of one of ours who had fallen.

Cat held onto my arm, tears glistening on her cheeks. “That was really sweet, Brodie.”

“One of ours has passed away, so yeah. Wasn’t my idea, though. Remember, Boom and I switched roles.” I gave her a crumpled tissue from my pocket. “He’s good cop, I’m bad cop now.”

“Speaking of, where’s the real good cop?”

I scanned the group of people again, coming up empty-handed. “Ashe tore out early this morning on police business. Haven’t seen her since.”

“I’m sure she’ll show up soon.”

“Yeah.”

We quieted as Nick’s parents and the pastor moved toward the gravesite. Nick and Cat went to join them, the rest of us lining up on both sides of Myra’s coffin.

The pastor intoned low words about Myra’s life. I tried to focus, but every minute gone by with no sign of Ashe really started getting to me. I checked my watch, and watched the entrance to the cemetery. I started to wonder if her lateness had something to do with the Retribution investigation. Then I started to worry. She was always either on time, or she called. If shit came down on her because of my club . . .

I’d kill any fuck who touched her.

I couldn’t very well call a manhunt during a burial, but something wasn’t right. Ashe wouldn’t intentionally miss this.

Concentrating on the remainder of the funeral was impossible, so I lowered my head and thought about everything Ashe had told me about the Retribution case, which was basically nothing at all. I didn’t even know if that was why she’d been called out this morning. It could’ve been about any number of investigations she was working on.

By the time the funeral ended with Nick, Cat, and his parents softly saying something for Miss Myra before everyone present placed a flower on the casket, I was at the end of my rope. After managing to utter quick words of condolence to the family, I slipped away from the group. Once outside the cemetery, I sprinted to my truck.

On the way home I came up with all kinds of excuses for her absence:
Ashe had had such an early morning. She went home to change for the funeral but then fell asleep. Or maybe she got tied up at work. It wouldn’t be the first or last time.
I kept going back and forth in my head, imagining worst-case scenario then trying to convince myself everything was A-OK.

I called her and got voicemail on repeat.

I texted her repeatedly and got no ping back. Hell, texting in Mt. Pleasant while driving was illegal. What I wouldn’t give to have Ashe come out of the woodwork right then and arrest me for it.

I was almost all the way home before I remembered I was Boomer’s ride, and I’d ditched him at the funeral.

Screw it. He’d understand when I explained later. When I told him how I was a big worrying jackass because Ashe was probably absolutely fine, with a completely plausible excuse.

Her car wasn’t in the driveway when I threw my truck into park, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. Davies could’ve dropped her off.

Racing inside, I shouted my usual, “Hey, babe! I’m home.”

Saying that made me feel better. But when there was no reply, I quickly fast-forwarded past the
sit tight and take it easy
phase and launched
straight into
where the hell is she
headfuck.

Standing in the empty kitchen, I tried Ashe at the station. No one picked up her line. I dialed again, that time Davies’s number.
No fucking answer
. I called the goddamn intake desk. I got a reply from the wheezy-voiced desk jockey, one I didn’t like at all. Total bullshit:
Detective Kingston’s whereabouts are confidential
.

“What the fuck does that mean?” I asked.

It sounded like a zoo over there, and I couldn’t even hear the dude’s response. Then the motherfucker hung up on me.

Slamming my phone on the table I was just about to let loose a violent string of curses when Cara came in from out back. I had about two seconds to compose myself before she asked, “Where’s my mom?”

“The babysitter’s still here, right?”

“I’m here, Mr. Steele,” Amber said.

“Great. Can you give me a minute, Cara? Your mom’s just fine, but I need to call Cat real quick.” I ignored the panic eating me up inside and made sure I stayed cool and steady for Cara.

She met my fist bump with a small nod, then she and Amber slipped from the kitchen. I stuck my head out the doorway to make sure they were out of hearing range before I dialed Cat.

“You know you stranded Boomer at the funeral, right?” Cat started right in.

“Yeah. Sorry. You can read me the riot act later. I’ve got a favor to ask right now.”

“Brodie, come on. Today?”

I hung my head and clenched my fist. “
I
know it's been a shit day, sis, but I need you to come pick up Cara and take her to your house.” I dropped my voice. “Ashe still hasn’t turned up. She left before five this morning on some kind of work emergency, and I haven't heard from her since. She won't answer her phone. Her cop cronies are giving me the runaround. And there’s more. She was investigating Retribution.”

“What?”

“You heard me. No one’s supposed to know. Fuck, I’m not even supposed to know, but something bad is going down. I can feel it. So I have to find Ashe, and I need you to take Cara so I don’t have to worry about her too.”

“I’m on my way.”

I blew out a huge breath. “Thanks, sis.”

It took me T-minus two minutes to run upstairs where I switched my sharp suit for black leathers then bolted back downstairs. I found the girls on the deck.

After paying Amber, I said, “My sis will be here to get Cara in about fifteen if you can hang out a little longer.”

“Sure thing.”

“I’m going to Cat and Nick’s?” Cara asked.

“Yeah. Thought it would do you good to go play in the country. ’Sides, Cat told me Viper misses you.”

“But where’s my mom?”

I had no goddamn clue, and I’d never felt more useless in my life, but I maintained the cool and calm as I hunched down to Cara’s level. “I’m sure she just got held up at work so I’m gonna mosey down to the station, okay? See if she needs anything.”

****

Mosey my ass. Riding my Harley, I broke every single speed limit between Ashe’s house and the station. The whole time I kept thinking about that fucking untouched glass of orange juice in my old bedroom from last night. Maybe I should’ve asked her to stay instead of going in—stay in my bed.
Stay safe
.

I replayed the last words she’d said to me.
Love you
. I’d been so out of it I hadn’t said it back that time.

Barging into the police station, I ignored the metal detector I set off and the shouts of officers ordering me to stop. Cops ran after me, their shoes pounding the floors.

“STOP!”

“FREEZE!”

Fuck that shit.

I busted into the big room just ahead of them, then through the doors to the back. It was like a war room in there, cops racing back and forth, shouting at each other, ferrying files from one desk to another.

Locating Sipowicz in the melee, I swam upstream through everyone to reach him.

He looked even more harried than usual as I got in his face. “Where the fuck is Detective Kingston?”

Cops were on me before he could answer. It took three of them to start dragging me away.

“Sorry, Chief, he set off the metal detector and—”

I wrenched free. “It’s my fucking dick piercings, okay? You wanna do a strip search, go right ahead. All I want is some answers.”

“Leave him.” Sipowicz narrowed his eyes on me. “Whatever you think you know, you don’t. There is nothing I can tell you, Mr. Steele. We’re in the middle of an investigation of your MC.”

Tell me somethin’ I don’t already know
.
“Is Ashe missing? Did something happen to her? What about Davies? Where the hell is he? At least tell me she’s not out there somewhere alone, goddammit!” I slammed my fist onto the nearest desk.

The commotion around us stopped.

In the sudden silence, Sipowicz stared at me, the corners of his mouth drooping down. “Unless you want to be implicated in an ongoing investigation, I suggest you leave the premises now.”

Rage boiled in my veins, but I backed down. I stomped out the way I’d come. I left because they weren’t going to talk, and I didn’t want to jeopardize Ashe in any way by messing with whatever the hell they might be doing.

I’d find other people to talk, with my fist down their throat if need be.

In the parking lot, I called Boomer. Motherfucking voicemail.

There was only one other thing to do. Go to the source. I tried the Retribution clubhouse. Probie picked up on the first ring.

My voice strained, and my fist clenched around the phone. “Don’t even open your mouth before I finish talkin’. Ashe is missing. I think something happened to her. She’s been investigating Retribution—someone’s dirty in our club. I don’t know who, but I need to find out pronto. You’re there all fucking day and night. Have you seen anything?”

“Hunter’s here right now. I think you better come in and talk to him.”

“Make sure he stays put.” Finally, a break. And I was going to break Hunter’s fucking face. I’d known something was up with the mystery dude.

“You got it.”

Zooming away from the police station, I opened up to full throttle.

The only thing I saw when I entered the dim interior of the club from the bright sunlight outside was a massive silhouette sitting at one of the tables.

Moving fast, I wrapped my arm around his neck, dragging the man from the chair. Hunter didn’t put up a fight as I spun him around. He looked at me with dead-cool calm from his gold-brown eyes.

I slammed him against the wall, snarling in his face, “What the fuck do you know?”